Status Updates

Status Updates

King Henry and the Three Little Trips (FM5.5), IS OUT!

Main Focus: FM6 (The Artificial Court), First Draft = 55k out of 200k estimate (28%)

Side Focus: Gush (Fantasy YA) Novel, First Draft = 11k out of 80k estimate (14%)

Other Stuff I Need to Get To: FM1-FM5 print-on-demand editing and formatting, FM3-FM5 concordance updates

Monday, February 1, 2016

FM5.5 is Out!

As usual the old WOW adage holds that you won't get the last item for your quest until you complain to your guild about drop rates.  So, the second I went to get some sleep after that long night and morning, and sent an email to Amazon, of course "King Henry and the Three Little Trips" started finally going through the system like it was supposed to.

But, enough of book!  Is out!


What started life as a small "vacation" project for Richard Raley became something more in the writing. Telling three interconnected stories taking place on the same day, two weeks after events in "The Foul Mouth and the Mancy Martial Artist" this novel is a can't miss for fans of THE KING HENRY TAPES. Spending equal time with Tyson Bonnie, Eva Reti, and King Henry Price himself, KING HENRY AND THE THREE LITTLE TRIPS shows the fallout from the Days of Supernatural Exhibit in both the personal cost for our characters and the political cost for supernatural organizations worldwide as fear of the Curator spreads to even the Asylum itself.

Read as Tyson Bonnie escorts Vicky Welf to the Coyote Nation compound, find out if Eva Reti can survive the anima experiment inflicted upon her, and follow King Henry as he returns to the Asylum seeking Plutarch's help.

The queue for the "Foul Mouth and the Artificial Court" roller-coaster begins here!
King Henry and the Three Little Trips by Richard Raley on Amazon

King Henry and the Three Little Trips by Richard Raley on Amazon UK

King Henry and the Three Little Trips by Richard Raley on Smashwords

Enjoy!  Have fun reading!  I promise I'm working hard on FM6 for your next hit!

Still Waiting for the Machines

So why isn't my new book out yet?  I don't know.  About 12 hours ago I submitted it to Amazon.  Sometimes it can take awhile to get going, never this long for me, but awhile.  So, it could just be a slowdown due to it being the 1st of the month or that it's Monday, I don't know.  Ball is in Amazon's court.  I've gone ahead and sent them an email, asking what's up.  We'll see if that helps...of course, it can take up to 24 hours to get an answer from them, so...yeah.


For now...I'm really tired guys.  Been up all night and all morning.  I'm going to sleep.

Sorry this has been frustrating for some of you (for me too!), but these things happen with modern technology.  One of the great parts of ebook publishing is that I can have the book in your hands immediately without all that paper and printing nonsense, one of the bad parts is it's not yet an exact process.  Last time it took a couple hours for my book to show up for sale, surprised the heck out of me and all of you got it earlier.  This time...clock is still ticking.

Hopefully when I wake up this is figured out and you all have your copies.

But for tired...must sleep...

Friday, January 29, 2016

3 Days Before FM5.5 Release Quick Notes!

1.  "King Henry and the Three Little Trips" is very done, all the beta readers have returned their lists and the final version plus the cover are finished.  I know you all LOVE to check for my books early in the system but I probably won't be putting this one through until midnight, so if you want to catch it, you'll have to stay up very late, like this vampire writer boy.

2.  I got kind of bored working on the mainline of FM6 (as I'm known to do) so instead of just sitting around thinking about my problems with it, or working on another novel like Gush (like that will ever happen!), I switched over and started the school story instead.  One of the things I did when writing FM5.5 was switching from POV to POV every few days and that really seemed to keep me focused on pumping out the pages, so I'm trying things this way again instead of doing all one, then the other.

3.  7 chapters are finished as drafts, six mainline, one school.  I'm estimating I'll need 28 to finish the book, so there are 21 left to write.  So far, so good.

4.  Been watching through the West Wing on Netflix.  Completely forgot how much I love that show.  I don't think there's been a bad episode yet and I'm halfway through the second season.

5.  Speaking of TV, they're making a TV show for "Altered Carbon".  Holy shit is that awesome, one of my favorite books.  Here's hoping "Heroes Die" gets it's due one day too!

6.  Really need to get back to the theater to see Star Wars again...

7.  Rain...more rain...even more rain...

8.  Can't wait to see what you all think of the new book, mini book though it may be.  Also can't wait to see if it sells like a book or a short story or...something else.  Really hoping people don't skip it, it would be a mistake.  So says all the beta readers!  Who have already read it...neener neener.

Monday, January 18, 2016

"Home is Where the Crazy Is" Sample (FM5.5 King Henry Chapter)

As promised!  Usual caveats apply, copyright, link back here, old unedited file because I'm too lazy to transfer the new one from my writing laptop to my main computer before release day, yada yada! Enjoy


“Your tits start scraping on the ground yet, you old bag?” King Henry answered the door, thinking it must have been the Lady despite Plutarch’s insistence otherwise.

Who else would visit Plutarch at that hour?

Who else would visit Plutarch period?

Only it wasn’t the Lady.

It was a delighted Miranda Daniels.

At some point in their tumultuous relationship the Ginger Nemesis had ripped the stick out of her ass, started having sex, and even talked about it . . . without blushing!  You had to embarrass her to get her to blush . . . and it was harder than ever to embarrass her . . . fucking awful!  Ever since, she’d been the one to gross out King Henry with the fact that pale, freckled disgusting ginger she might be, but she was just as much of a sexual being as anyone else.

And King Henry had just thrown a hanging fastball.  “Don’t,” he begged.

Unable to help herself, Miranda leaned forward so she could whisper it, “Only if he’s particularly rough and only if the room is carpeted.”

King Henry would’ve clawed out his eyeballs, but the problem was with his overactive imagination giving him a quick mental image.  “For fuck’s sake . . . I’m not even over the hairy strawberry text you sent me yet!”

“Well, I’m not over all the times you drunk dialed me to moan about Valentine,” Miranda pointed out, “so I guess we’re even.”

He got sheepish for once.  “Yeah, not the best week of my life.”

“I did warn you,” Miranda pointed out some more.  It was one of her favorite thing to do, especially to King Henry.

“Stupid me, I figured you were just telling me not to be an asshole like usual.”

Miranda grinned again.  “Oh, I accepted that you would always be an asshole a long time ago.”  Her expression softened some.  “Both of you are very far from normal, King Henry.  Valentine’s been told by just about everyone for her whole life that’s she’s special, so she doesn’t want to waste it . . . even on you.”

“Yeah . . . I don’t blame her . . . much.”

“That’s right, you have the Ceinwyn Dale Broke Us Up theory . . . I think I heard it four or five times, each time with a different reason for why she was doing it.”

“Junior!” Plutarch called from the kitchen, still grouchy.  “I’m fine with you staying the night, but if you try to have sex with a woman in my spare bed again I’m throwing both of you out on your naked asses this time!”

Miranda and King Henry stared at each other.  Brown as the deepest earth and green like moss rippling in a fierce Irish wind.  “Don’t,” King Henry begged again.

Her lips quirked a bit, but she relented on whispering about her own freckled butt, instead going with.  “We both know I’ve seen what you have to offer and would never partake.”

“Stop reminded me of all the stupid shit I’ve been through while you’re at it.”

“It’s hard . . . it was a bunch of stupid shit.  Just since you graduated . . . if you want me to go back to school then . . . wow, I might need a couple books.”

“About one-hundred sessions with a tape recorder actually,” King Henry murmured.

“What was that?” Miranda asked inquisitively.

Fuck me, I need to burn those tapes before she finds them . . . her or Val . . . or Annie B . . . or Isabel . . . Isabel will probably make a dildo out of them or something freaky as shit.

“Junior?!?” Plutarch called to save him.

“What?” King Henry called back.

“Who is it, you numbskull?!?”

“It’s Miranda Daniels here to torture me.”




Miranda looked confused; it wasn’t an expression King Henry was used to seeing on her face.  


“It’s your fairy title.”

“I have a fairy title?”

“He talks to them more than he talks to humans,” King Henry explained.

“I have a fairy title?”

“Every Ultra has a fairy title.”

“I have a fairy title and it’s Redwind?”

“It could be worse . . . Pocket’s is Fernthrower . . . I helped.”

“Do you know what it’s like to have your hair color as your defining personal characteristic for your entire life?” Miranda complained.

“Nope . . . no idea at all,” King Henry deadpanned.

“You’re not that short,” Miranda said, “you grew out of it.”

“Could dye your hair . . . like, black maybe.  Be a Goth.  Can’t do anything about the freckles though . . . or the hairy strawberry.”

“Oh, that was just a joke,” Miranda informed, “I’m bald as can be down there.”

Again King Henry considered how to tear his brain out of his head.  “If you’ve finished tormenting me, I really need to get back to tricking Plutarch into helping me make a golem.”

“That’s illegal, King Henry!”  Miranda regressed.

“Only if you put a fairy in it.”

“Also, I didn’t come all the way across the school just to annoy you.  You don’t rate that highly on my list, thank you very much.”

“That’s good, because I’d need to be drunker than when I drunk dialed you to even consider making out with you, much less bumping uglies.  It might be shaved, but in my heart I’d know the ginger pubes were in there just waiting to sneak out and infect me.”

Her hands found her hips in a bit of indignation.  “We both know that if we bumped uglies I’d be the one worried about getting infected.”

“Why does everyone think I caught something from Isabel?”

“Because Isabel has plenty of crazy to spare and syphilis would be the least of it.”

“If I knew you would get so annoying over the Redwind thing I never would’ve brought it up.  Although I’m beginning to think it’s not about your hair and is about how you’re always on your period.  Menstrual fluids blowing in the wind!”

She slapped him.

He blinked.

“Sorry!” Miranda squeaked.  “Force of habit!”

“Yeah . . . well, guess I overstepped,” King Henry found himself apologizing.  “And Redwind ain’t so bad . . . I kind of like it.”

Miranda forced her hand down.  “What are you called?”

“The Dirt King.”

She stared.

“I know . . . it’s awesome.  Hey, maybe I can put in a word for you and we can get it changed?”

Now she shivered.  “No thank you; once was enough with you and your fairies.”

“About that . . .” He motioned for her to leave.

“Did the sentence where I mentioned that I wasn’t just here to tease you just go right over your head?” she reminded him.

“I’m busy.  Tell whoever it is that I’ll talk to them tomorrow . . . unless it’s Ceinwyn and she can still fuck off.”

“It’s the Lady,” Miranda said as King Henry closed the door in her face.  “You can’t say ‘no’ to her!”

“I am!” he yelled at the door.

“I’m supposed to lead you into the bowels of Admin, into the restricted sections!” she tried again.

“Fuck me,” King Henry growled as he yanked the door back open.

Miranda smiled at him.  “Curiosity will get you killed one day.”

“Yeah, so I hear . . . that or my big mouth, right?”


Two weeks from release!

Monday, January 11, 2016

"Shadow Running" Sample (FM5.5 Eva Chapter)

Eva sneak peek as promised.  You don't see it here but some mega Crazy happens in this story.  It might be my favorite of the bunch.  As always, still an unfinished sample with plenty of typos so sorry about that.  Also as always, if you want to share it please link back here instead of copy and pasting to your fellow fans.  Copyrighted by me, Richard Raley, and all that aren't reading this are you, you skipped immediately to the sample, didn't you?


“The things I do for you, Lover Boy,” Eva mumbled to herself as she sat in her stolen car, thumbing the steering wheel with a chaotic beat that made little lyrical sense.  “Not really for you, to be fair.  For the Asylum, like always, but you’re involved so I’m blaming you, okay?  Always liked blaming you when something went wrong on one of our adventures and you must admit, usually it was your fault.  So this is too . . . I’m bored . . . I’m on a stakeout . . . must be your fault.  All. King.  Henry’s.  Fault.  Yes.  It.  Is.”

 Eva took a sip of her water bottle, gray eyes never leaving the dentist shop she was casing.  “I mean, I might have already found Iscariot and delivered Samson’s message to him if you didn’t decide to get yourself mixed up with the Curator.  Now Jackson’s dead and every inch of you smells like Isabel Soto and well . . . I’m pretty disgusted with you.  Someone should be, shouldn’t they?

“Boomworm won’t be.  Never could understand how she just let your crap go on by with a chuckle at it all.  Pissed me off from time to time, didn’t it?  And I’d tell you it did and we’d yell and get it out and then we’d be ready for the next leap to take together.  I fought to keep you on the path with me . . . Boomworm just let you roam around like a herding dog after wolves, and you kept coming back to her with dirt all over your fur and brambles in your paws . . .”

It was jealousy really.  Not even jealousy that he might have been with other women and she’d never have known it.  It was jealousy that Eva hadn’t been out their roaming with him, getting her own bit of dirt and bramble in her fur, the smell of strange and exciting journeys the only perfume she craved.  What did you do without me, Lover Boy?  How dare you!  You’re mixed up with all that intrigue and I’m out here chasing a shadow’s shadow!

To be fair . . . she was pretty sure she’d found it.  Isabel and Conan Sapa’s hideout at least.  The corner that the shadow’s shadow is living in . . . argh, I just can’t stand this spy metaphor junk.  Lying, deceit, subterfuge.  That was the part of her job that she had the most trouble with.  The training, the sneaking, the spying, even the killing she’d done in the name of the Asylum was all fine, not a single stain on her conscience, but the lying to the few friends she had . . .

“Killing easy . . . lies hard,” she said to herself.

 Lots of talking to herself lately too.

She just couldn’t talk to her friends about what she did or even the world she’d fallen into by accepting Samson’s training.  Most of them didn’t even know how dangerous vampires really were to mancers or that the upper structure of Vampire society existed.  They didn’t have a clue how much work the Learning Council did to keep them in check and to keep the peace alive.  Add in wild mancers going insane week by week, Weres expanding the black market for supernatural goods, and now the Curator . . . Eva was never without something to do, something she couldn’t talk about.
Another adventure that couldn’t be shared.

“You know what this is like, don’t you, Lover Boy?” she asked the invisible presence King Henry seemed to have this week in Las Vegas.  “Only difference is that I was invited into this world by our teachers and you seemed to fall into it, probably on your face, just like usual.  Or that nice plump tushy you got.”

Maybe she should stop with the metaphors and talk to him about it some time.  They used to talk all the time . . . best part of their relationship after the sex really.  They just never admitted to each other that the talking was up there . . . always pretended it wasn’t what they were about.  Sex, adventure, fun . . . casual . . . nothing more.  Then when it might have been something more . . . what if that stopped all the rest?  Couldn’t risk it . . . we have to break up!

Sure, sure, yeah, good idea!

Eva wasn’t sure about going back to that particular relationship with him.  Or even any relationship that included physical activities of any sort . . . even with him clear of Boomworm again, she wasn’t too interested.  “Sleeping with Isabel Soto and that Anne Boleyn months back, what is wrong with that boy?”

But conversation . . . conversation she wouldn’t mind.

Compare notes.

“I can tell you the names of the Divines and what they look like, what do you have?” she whispered the imaginary future that she knew she could never walk towards.  “You know how to split a pool, but what if I can still rock your world when it comes to anima, Lover Boy?”

She’d never do it . . . but it was nice to pass the time thinking about doing it.

Truth was . . . she’d left the majority of her peers behind.  King Henry, Welf, maybe Boomworm if Miss Dale kept feeding her info, but the rest?  In another world.  “Isabel too, I guess, just on the wrong side of it all . . . they’ll just make me hunt her down and put her back in her cage one day, so why not get it out of the way right now?  Especially since once I have her Iscariot will have to come to me . . . then I can deliver Samson’s message, let Lover Boy deal with Sapa, and hand Isabel back to the normal goons in ESLED . . . what a brilliant plan, right?”

Fines Samson talked a lot about finding weak points.  Conan Sapa was the weak point in all of this.  “Even if he killed Jackson somehow, poor big, bastard . . . competing in an underground Were event, why don’t they learn that Weres always mean trouble and it never works out?  Think King Henry would know after that mess in Los Angeles, but did he learn?  Never!”

If hunting Iscariot was a chore then hunting Isabel would be a nightmare.  “Locking the most powerful corpusmancer on the planet up in the Pit just to keep the Anima Quota down; talk about being stupidly optimistic . . . if only the Learning Council was nearly as good with plans as I am!”

Iscariot:  chore.

Isabel:  nightmare.

Conan Sapa though . . . hard to hide when you’re a seven-foot-tall corpusmancer who has had who knows what kind of anima experimentation done on you.  Seriously, men and their stupid muscles.  Like all those muscles would matter anything once the Mancy was brought into the equation.  Even without the Mancy, that much bulk would be nothing but a hindrance.  If Jason hadn’t been surprised that the fight took the deadly turn it did, Eva would have put money on him winning over Sapa.

But it had taken that turn . . .

You expect me to tell you to always fight like your life depends on it,” Eva tried to do a Fines Samson impression, “but you don’t get to fight for your life.  You get to fight for the life of every mancer on the planet.  So doubly don’t be a moron and ever consider to play fairYou’re the blade that darts in from the shadows, not some stupid ass crusader with a shield screaming as you charge in, never forget it!”

Conan Sapa, too many muscles or not, was the key to finding Isabel and Iscariot.

One:  find Conan Sapa.

Two:  track Conan Sapa.

Three:  Confirm Isabel is present.

Four:  Call in the Calvary in the form of King Henry and Welf.

Five:  Capture Isabel.

Six:  Use her as bait to lure out Iscariot.

“Eva Reti, she’s a planner,” she said about herself before lapsing into awkward silence.  “Eva Reti, she spends too much time alone in stolen cars.”

Recruiters and ESLED proper got their pick from the Asylum fleet of modern transportation, but not her.  Too obvious, Samson had whispered with a shake of his head, get you killed.  You need to know how to always obtain your own transportation.

So he brought in one of the best car thieves in the United States to teach her and Eva had been stealing a car every week for the last couple years.  “Alone . . . with my phone and Candy Crush as my only friends . . . at least they let me borrow one of the jets occasionally.”

Alone, but still a planner.  When everyone else had rushed through the Ouroboros Casino trying to track Conan Sapa’s quick departure, Eva had tracked his arrival, particularly the car he arrived in.  “Thus proving Samson’s point that company cars are a bad idea, especially a black Hummer still registered under a subsidiary of your mercenary company, despite the fact that everyone knows you’re working for the Curator.”

Too many muscles, not enough brains.

“The description of every corpusmancer on the planet except for Isabel Soto . . . whose problem is that she has twenty or so brains all in one head.”

Eva sipped some more water.  Once she found out about the Hummer, and really, a Hummer?  “Big muscles, small where it counts,” she chuckled.  Once she found out about the Hummer, she put in a call to ESLED’s computer club—where most of the electromancers, cryomancers, and mentimancers ended up—and they returned a list of Hummers spotted in Las Vegas during the last week.  NSA, be super jelly.

Next came an assumption that Sapa wouldn’t be in an affluent neighborhood or near the Strip itself, which cut down her list to a dozen.  Finally she put in the footwork and crossed off five possibilities before finding a black Hummer outside a dilapidated dentist office in a not-so-happy part of town.
Given the way she kept seeing shadows on the edge of her vision, the sciomancer sign of nearby anima pooling, she knew she was in the right place.  “Only he’s not alone and I don’t know who’s inside with him.”  Two other cars, a SUV and a Mini-Cooper.  She ran the plates . . . both stolen, unless George Derek Pleck—a seventy-two-year-old retired high school principal of Lancaster, California—was working for the Curator.  “Someone knows how the game is played at least.”

She tried to imagine the Curator driving a Mini-Cooper. 

“Just terrifying.”

There was no way the Curator was inside of that dentist office.  Whole idea was unthinkable, really.  Isabel probably stole one of them, but what about the third?  “And someone had to drive the Hummer after they dropped off Sapa . . .”

That put her at a minimum of four people inside the building.

Sapa, Isabel . . . but who else?

“Come on, Sapa, keep being stupid.  Come on out so I don’t have to go in there and get a look at all of you.”


Three weeks!  Check back next week for a King Henry sneak peek!