Cocky Devil – A Lucifer Chronicles short satire

Sometimes somebody does something which is so audaciously WRONG, there’s no way you can let it pass. What better way to right a wrong than satire, and who better to do it than a beloved character y’all would like to hear more about.

Soo …

What would happen if a greedy author tried to trademark the words “Lucifer” or the “devil” so nobody else could use them?

THIS FOLLOWING STORY IS SATIRE…

“I hereby rule,” the Honorable Judge Jephthah’s voice boomed, “that the defendants owe the plaintiff all profits from the sale of the hats, as well as a fine of ten-thousand dollars apiece.”

He banged his gavel. The court stenographer, Kaitlyn Lee, “Kaylee” to her friends, recorded the decision as the losers filtered out of the courtroom. Coyote Corporation’s lawyers moved closer to the bench, chittering excitedly about how much money they’d just made, not on the hat sales, but on their share of the fines. Not one of the independent crafters had ever made more than a few hundred dollars—every single hat was handmade. But the show had developed a cult following and there was money to be made selling merchandise to diehard fans.

Kaitlyn sighed. Just this once, she’d been hoping her boss would rule for the defendants.

At four-foot eleven, with mousy brown hair, intelligent brown eyes, and a figure prone to a bit of plumpness, the judge, the lawyers, and even the litigants rarely noticed her. She was, after all, just a court stenographer. So when one of the knitters slipped up to her desk, Kaitlyn looked up with surprise.

“You’re one of us?” the knitter whispered. “Aren’t you?”

She pointed to the upside-down triangular pin Kaitlyn wore pinned to the straitlaced brown suit she’d worn in quiet solidarity with the defendants; green with two yellow stripes, and a blue star.

Kaitlyn glanced up at her boss. He sat atop his tall bench, cloaked in a too-large black robe. He looked like a mole with his sharp nose, too-small eyes, and a moustache that wriggled as he spoke like whiskers. “It’s our JOB to uphold the discretion of the clerk who issued the trademark,” he always told his staff.

“I’m sorry,” Kaitlyn whispered. “He never rules in favor of the little guy.”

The woman reached into her knitting bag and pulled out one of the now-forbidden hats; red, burnt orange and yellow; hand-crocheted, with earflaps and an enormous pom-pom. She placed it next to the stenography machine, and then slipped out of the courtroom.

On days like today, Kaitlyn absolutely hated her job.

She glanced at the judge, but he was too busy lapping up accolades from the corporate attorneys to notice the gift. Just once she’d like to see the court administer justice. She slipped the woolen hat into her bag.

Her head shot up as the Clerk announced a familiar name:

“I call the case of Hyeena Cocktard vs. Lucifer, the Devil,” the Clerk said. “An emergency motion to enjoin defendants from using her characters and titles.”

Hyeena Cocktard?

A statuesque redhead glided into the courtroom, dressed from head to toe in the latest faux Boho chic. She carried herself with the air of a Hollywood starlet, a bit too old to be relevant, and not quite talented enough to land a major role. Hyeena Cocktard had been her nemesis at an ill-fated improv class she’d taken: a failed screenwriter, failed film producer, failed comedian, and wannabe actress whose main talent was bragging about her own self-worth and conniving her way to the top. Behind her shuffled a disheveled-looking attorney, the kind who got “patent bar experience” by volunteering as a “volunteer lawyer for the arts.”

“The Plaintiff is present,” said her lawyer.

Hyeena spotted Kaitlyn and gave a self-satisfied smirk.

She hadn’t seen that name on the docket. She would have noticed, wouldn’t she have? Penciled into this time slot it said, “emergency injunction” and a question mark.

Drat! Had she known Hyeena Cocktard would be in court today, she would have worn something more attractive than the plain brown suit and, maybe, Idunno? Gone to the gym and run off fifteen pounds?

Hyeena caught her attention and held up her wrist. From her eloquently slender arm dangled a silver charm bracelet, the one she had thrown back in her ex-fiancé’s face after Hyeena had seduced him right in front of her, all part of “acting a part” in improv class, but later that night, Kaitlyn had gone home and found the two of them in bed.

Kaitlyn looked down, rather than let the bitch see she’d just driven another stake into her still-broken heart. Yeah, it was lame, to remain celibate two years after Joss’s betrayal. Rumor had it the two were now filming a porno together.

The red and orange knitted hat peeked out of her bag, reminding her of her favorite television series.

“Some days you’ve got to aim to misbehave…”

Her fingers flew to her stenography machine. She might not have Hyeena’s artistic connections or good looks, but she had a strong mind. She would record every word, including the ones the judge ordered her to strike, and make note of the spurious reasons for rejection, in the hopes that Hyeena’s latest victim might overturn Judge Jephthah’s decision on appeal?

“Where is the defendant?” Judge Jephthah asked.

“It’s everyone who stole the words ‘Lucifer’ and the ‘devil,’” Hyeena answered.

“Do the Defendants have actual names?”

“It’s just a bunch of conniving indie authors,” she batted her eyelashes at the judge, “using my beloved characters so they can piggyback off my fame.”

Characters, eh? So Hyeena had written another screenplay? Kaitlyn pulled up the case file so she could figure out what “play” the conniving bitch was twisting to squash her latest competition. Trademark violation on a book series? So that’s what she was doing now? Selling her carnivorous lifestyle to romance readers?

With Hyeena Cocktard, there were no happily ever afters…

“Please?” she prayed as she typed “Case Transcript: Injunction.” “Whoever you are, defendants, somebody please show up?”

“We move for a default judgment,” her attorney said.

The judge held up his gavel.

“I hereby rule—“

*SLAM!!!*

The courtroom doors flew open. Kaitlyn gasped as the most beautiful man she’d ever seen stalked into the courtroom.

Well over six feet tall, “Lucifer, the devil” wore a custom-tailored navy pinstripe suit; topped with an off-white cashmere overcoat thrown casually over his shoulders like a pair of wings. He radiated animal magnetism, as though they were all just sheep and he was the alpha-predator. His white-blonde hair framed high cheekbones, a sensual mouth, and eerie silver eyes which reflected the light.

“It is I,” the man gave a mocking bow to the judge. “Lucifer, the devil, in the flesh.”

“You can’t call yourself that,” Hyeena sneered. “Lucifer is a character, invented by me, for my romance novels.”

“Lucifer is my name,” Lucifer said. “The government doesn’t have the authority to prevent people from using everyday terms of speech.”

“It does when a private party has filed a trademark,” the judge said.

“But I’m the devil,” Lucifer said.

“No you’re not,” Hyeena said. “-I- am. Or at least, in the books, my characters are. I trademarked those words so nobody else could use them.”

Kaitlyn glanced up at her boss. Normally in cases like this, he ruled immediately against the defendant. But one look at Lucifer’s hand-tailored suit warned the old mole that this was a client who might have enough money to launch an appeal.

“Can you prove prior use?” the judge asked.

“Of course.” Lucifer gave a wolf-like smile. “I’ve been called Lucifer and the devil for several thousand years.”

He reached into his overcoat and pulled out an ancient book, bound in leather, with frail, yellowed pages hand-written in faded brown ink. Emblazoned across the front it stated: “THE HOLY BIBLE, Conteyning the Old Teſtament, AND THE NEW: Newly Tranſlated out of the Originall tongues.” Just inside the cover it said “1611.”

“It’s the original,” Lucifer said. “Ordered by King James to warn all of you about me. Though I must say—” he shook his finger in Hyeena’s face “—that you, young lady, have been giving me a run for my money.”

“That’s a lie!” Hyeena said. “-I’m- the creator of Lucifer, and the Devil series.”

“Do you swear it?” Lucifer grinned maliciously.

“Yes!” Hyena swore.

“On this bible?” he held it out.

She placed her hand on it. “Of course!”

“But it refers to me right here—” he flipped the book open. “O Luciferi … star of the morning.

Hyeena glared at her attorney.

“Objection!” her lawyer shouted.

“Grounds?” the judge asked.

“Lack of foundation,” the lawyer said.  “Nobody knows who originally wrote that book.”

“Affirmed,” the judge said. “The book is excluded as hearsay.”

“It is?” Lucifer appeared perplexed. “Are you seriously stating the court refuses to recognize the bible?”

“Can you subpoena the person who wrote it?” the Judge asked.

“Who, my father?” Lucifer snorted.

“Yes.”

“No,” Lucifer said. “We had a falling out.”

“Then its inadmissible hearsay,” the judge said.  “So if you want to call yourself Lucifer or the devil, you must prove you’re the only person entitled to use those marks.”

Hyeena smirked.

Lucifer tapped his lip, deep in thought. His eerie silver gaze settled on Kaitlyn.

Kaitlyn stopped typing, a mouse held mesmerized by a snake. The cocky bastard knew the effect he had on women. And yet, there was real intelligence in those eyes.

“Tell me, Miss Kaitlyn,” he said softly. “What would it take to convince you that a man was really the devil?”

Her face turned scarlet as every eye in the courtroom turned towards her. A nobody. The court stenographer, asked to help sway this case?

“The devil has powers?” her voice lilted up in a question.

“What kind of powers?” Lucifer stepped closer. Oh, god, he smelled good.

“He’s tempting!” she blurted out, and then realized she sounded like a pathetic she-dog in heat. “I mean, the devil is known for his powers of persuasion.”

“Persuasion?” the judge asked.

“Yes,” Hyeena said. “The devil can persuade anybody to do anything. Obviously—” her eyes glittered with malice “—your stenographer has read my books?”

Lucifer turned back towards Hyeena. Of course he hadn’t really noticed her. Men like that, they used women to get what they wanted, and then they threw them away.

He stalked towards Hyeena like a panther sizing up a meal.

“You realize I can’t make people do anything they don’t want to do?” he said.

“So you’re conceding defeat?” Hyeena’s eyes glinted victoriously.

“I’m saying,” Lucifer’s expression grew intense, “that maybe you want something badly enough to misrepresent the truth?”

Hyeena tried to look away, but Lucifer held her in his gaze, an apex predator who had a weaker predator cornered.

Kaitlyn waited, her fingers positioned over the keyboard.

Say it?

“I need controversy,” Hyeena said breathlessly. “It’s the only way Hollywood will take notice of my movie.”

“What movie?”

“The one I’ve been filming based off my romance series,” she admitted. “A ‘Fifty Shades’ knockoff. By poking indie romance authors, it’ll cause enough uproar to attract the attention of a distributor.”

Kaitlyn typed it. There… The defendant had her.

“Objection!” the lawyer shouted. “Move to strike!”

“Basis?” the judge asked.

“Relevance?” the lawyer asked. “It’s not a crime to use fake publicity. The Clinton News Network broadcasts fake news 24/7.”

The Honorable Judge Jephthah fingered his whiskers.

“I’ll uphold the objection,” the judge said. “Building a ‘brand’ is the very reason that trademark law exists.”

“What?” Kaitlyn squeaked.

The judge gave her a pointed look.

“Strike it,” he ordered. “Miss Cocktard is not the one on trial.”

Kaitlynn “struck through” the damning statement, but did not erase it. She noted the basis for the motion to strike and highlighted it in red. Here. Here was a place the defendant might be able to appeal?

“Now, Mr. Lucifer,” the judge asked, “do you have any other way to prove your impossible claim?”

“That I’m the devil?”

“Yes.”

Lucifer paced. He turned back to Kaitlyn.

“Tell me, Miss Kay-lee?” his voice dripped seduction. “What else might prove to you that I’m the devil?”

A pleasant tingle rippled down to her girly-parts, the place no man had touched since Hyeena Cocktard had lured away her man. Her mind filled with lurid thoughts, of him—it’d been a long two years since she’d broken things off with Joss.

“OMG … it’s hot,” Kaitlyn fanned her face.

“You’re saying the devil is seductive?” Lucifer asked.

Something deep within her abdomen clenched…

“Oh, yes!” she gasped. “Women would be willing to “do him,” right in the middle of a crowded room!”

Hyeena Cocktard giggled. The corporate lawyers all laughed. The Honorable Judge Jephthah cleared his throat.

“Which is why,” Hyeena Cocktard said,I filed a trademark on that character. Obviously the stenographer has read my books, because that reaction is exactly the reaction women have whenever I write my character, Lucifer, the devil.”

“Sex sells,” her attorney said. “Which is why my client needs to enjoin the other romance authors from appropriating her intellectual property.”

The Honorable Judge Jephthah fondled his mole-like whiskers.

“These days,” the judge said, “even toothpaste is sold with sex. You’ll need to do more than seduce a plain young woman—“ he gestured at Kaitlyn “—to convince me that you’re really the devil.”

The courtroom laughed. Kaitlyn slouched down in her seat.

“Make sure you record that!” Hyeena gave a viscous laugh. “I want to see it quoted in all of the newspapers.”

Tears welled in Kaitlyn’s eyes. Lucifer gave her an apologetic look. She reached into her bag and grabbed the red, orange and yellow hat. It felt warm and comforting, made by a single crafter, for a single buyer, with love.

“Tell me, Miss Kaitlyn,” Lucifer said gently, “what else would convince you that I’m really the devil?”

In his eyes, she could see her own reflection. Her voice warbled.

“Lucifer is an angel,” she said. “An angel, who fell too close to the Earth.”

“So you’re saying the devil should have proof of divinity?” he asked.

She glanced at her cruel boss, the judge, who’d just humiliated her for no good reason.

“Y-yes.”

Without breaking her gaze, Lucifer flipped off his cashmere overcoat and revealed a pair of enormous, snow-white wings.

The courtroom gasped.

Lucifer flared them out to their full length. Each primary feather was the length of an arm or leg, and the knee-joints rose so high, they almost reached the courtroom’s coffered ceiling, and when he flapped them, it blew all of the case files off of the Clerk o Court’s desk. How in hell had he managed to hide those underneath that paltry overcoat?

He gave her a coy grin, as if he had read her mind.

“The power of persuasion means more than simply convincing others to give me what I want, Miss Kaitlyn,” he said, seemingly inside her mind. “It means, making people speak the truth, especially when the truth goes against authority.”

Kaitlynn began to type:

‘The defendant angel just revealed his thirty foot wingspan…”

She proceeded to describe his wings in beautifully worded detail. The way the feathers moved as he flexed. The pink skin beneath them. The way they rustled and smelled faintly of after-shave and ozone. And most of all, how fluffy and downright heavenly the soft underfeathers appeared.

“They’re fake!” Hyeena shrieked. “Everybody knows angels only exist in books!”

“Objection!” her lawyer shouted.

“B-b-basis?” the Honorable Judge Jephthah gaped.

“Think what will happen if this court starts overturning trademarks?” Hyeena said. “The government’s control of commerce will cease, all because you cast doubt about government control of the people’s right to use common words?”

Kaitlynn held her breath.

“Government control of the people’s right to use common words,” she typed. There. She had it. She was no lawyer, but even she knew the government wasn’t allowed to do that.

“Lucifer?” she whispered, and held up one finger to signify the First Amendment issue. “Raise the objection!”

Lucifer met her gaze, but he said nothing.

The judge shuffled through the folders on his desk, rather than look at the enormous white feathered appendages which dominated the entire courtroom.

“We get a lot of cosplayers in here,” he mumbled. “You’d be amazed, at what they can do now with hydraulics.”

“So you’re denying my wings as evidence?” Lucifer clarified.

“Yes,” the judge said. “You can buy pneumatic wings on Etsy for two thousand dollars.”

Kaitlyn’s heart sank.

Lucifer glanced at her and winked.

“Then, may it please the court,” Lucifer said, “I can think of only one other way to prove to you, once and forever, that I, and only I, hold first use of my name.”

“And what might that be?” the judge asked skeptically.

“Why—“ Lucifer snapped his fingers. “I’ll simply let the court verify there really is a hell.”

Kaitlynn’s stomach lurched like it did when she got into an elevator, but the room looked exactly as it had before, only the Clerk, the Bailiff, and the other lawyers had all disappeared. Brilliant white shone through the window. All around them, heavenly harp music beckoned with soul-inspiring chords.

“This is it?” Hyeena asked. “This looks just like a courtroom.”

“Why, this is his hell,” Lucifer pointed up at the judge. “More specifically, your hell—” he turned to Hyeena’s lawyer “—and your hell, as well. It’s a court without plaintiffs because the government stops issuing trademarks for anything except truly unique, and original, work.”

“We’re still in the courtroom,” Hyeena challenged. “All you did was make the other people leave the room.”

“Is that what you believe?” Lucifer grinned.

Just outside the courtroom door, somebody shouted: “Lights, camera, ACTION!!!”

Hyeena leaped up.

“C’mon!” she grabbed her attorney. “The news must have gotten my press release about the lawsuit.”

“I don’t know…” the lawyer held back.

“Dammit!” she shrieked. “I need the publicity! We did all this so I can star in and produce my own upcoming “50 Shades of Devil” movie!”

Lucifer held up a key, solid gold and ornate, and slipped it into a lock which Kaitlynn couldn’t recall ever having seen on the front of the Honorable Judge Jephthah’s bench. The double doors to the hallway swung open. Brilliant white light flooded in.

“Miss Cocktard, Miss Cocktard!” a bunch of television reporters begged from the hallway. “Could you please tell us about your upcoming movie?”
Hyeena fluffed her hair, and then sauntered towards the hallway.
Kaitlyn caught a whiff of brimstone…

“Your honor,” Lucifer said. “You’ll want to decide this for yourself. After all, you are the judge?”

“Yes!” The Honorable Judge Jephthah stepped off his enormous raised bench, revealing he wasn’t all that much taller than Kaitlyn, and hurried to the double wooden doors. He, and Hyeena Cocktard, and her lawyer all rushed outside.

Lucifer pulled the key out of the lock. The light, which until now had been blindingly, brilliantly white, all of a sudden turned into bright orange flames. The courtroom filled with the scent of sulfur and smoke.

“Ahh!” Hyeena screamed as the television reporters turned into demons.
The doors began to swing shut.

“Let me out!” ordered the judge.

“Please!” the lawyer shouted.

Mind-numbingly horrifying shapes scurried out of the shadows and dragged the three humans down into the writhing flames.

“I rescind the trademark!” the judge shouted as his face ignited.

“Too late!” Lucifer gestured at Kaitlyn. “She’s recorded enough for me to win on appeal.”

The doors finished swinging shut, not wood, but the kind of blast doors you’d see in an underground bunker designed to withstand a thermonuclear blast. The screams cut off as the doors thunked back into place. The courtroom disappeared, revealing Kaitlyn sat, at her stenography table, in an enormous, underground cavern.

All around them stood dozens of men. No. Not men. While vaguely human, many possessed sharp teeth and mottled green skin.

Demons?

No. They were dressed like soldiers. They looked more like were-shifters.
Kaitlyn grabbed her stenography machine and slipped it into her bag. All she had to do was get out of here, and then she could forward the transcripts to the defendants so they could all file appeals.

Lucifer turned towards her. The Lucifer. Prince of Hell. The one cast down from heaven. He sauntered towards her, still cocky and predatory, but there was an unsureness about him. As if he wasn’t sure she would bite his head off.

“Did you get all that?” he gestured at the stenography machine in her purse.

Kaitlyn nodded.

“There’s enough there to turn over several dozen cases,” she said. “But will they believe me? When I tell them the devil himself appeared in court?”

He handed her the priceless 1611 bible.

“It doesn’t really matter,” he said. “All you have to do is show them this.”

“And what about me?” she backed up. “Will you send me—“ she glanced at the blast door “—there?”

Lucifer laughed.

“Now why would I do that?”

“So you intend to seduce me?” her voice warbled.

“Do you want to be seduced?” he asked.

Kaitlyn thought about it a moment, and then shook her head.

“No,” she said. “It was kind of mean, what you did in the courtroom.”

Lucifer curled one snow-white wing forward and caressed her cheek.

“Women like you, when you fall for a cocky guy like me, you do it because we respect you and feed your mind. But—” He slid a single feather down her arm.  “If you don’t mind, I do have a favor to ask.”

Kaitlyn’s heart beat faster. All he had to do was push, and she’d fall prey to his charm, because the truth was, now that Hyeena Cocktard had gotten her due, he’d given her the one thing she’d become a stenographer to achieve.

Justice…

As soon as she got back, she’d amend the day’s transcripts so that the cases came down the way they should have been decided; including the case brought by Coyote Corporation against the hat-makers.

“What is it?” she swallowed.

Lucifer reached into her bag. He pulled out the hand-knit orange, red and yellow hat.

“Do you remember that episode when your namesake, Kaylee got shot?” he asked. “And Jayne stood outside of surgery, guarding the door?”

Kaitlyn knit her brow together. “Yes?”

“He cared for her, you know? He was just too cocky to show it.”

“Yeah,” Kaitlyn sighed. “I always ‘shipped them. Too bad Kaylee never made a move.”

He put the hat onto his head and flipped back the lapel of his suit, revealing that he wore the exact same upside-down green triangular pin as she did.

“Do you wanna cosplay?” Lucifer asked.

With a delighted squeal, Kaitlyn “Kaylee” Lee threw herself into the beautiful angel’s arms.

*Cocky Devil – a “Lucifer Chronicles” short satire, Copyright 2018 by Anna Erishkigal, All Rights Reserved. This story is satirical fantasy fiction. Any resemblance it may bear to anyone living or dead, or living dead, is purely coincidental.

**********

I hope this story made y’all giggle…

And seriously … the government isn’t allowed to impede free speech and freedom of the press (including books), which means it cannot grant that right to a third-party via a trademark. I mean, think about it? What will they trademark next? Will some Political Action Committee trademark “Change” or “Great Again” to shut down the next presidential campaign?  Or maybe some multinational corporation will trademark “genetically” and “modified” to shut down public discussion about the safety of GMO’s?  #CockyGate will be overturned, but in the meantime, all we can do is call out greed and make fun of the malefactor.

If you’d like to read more about my character Lucifer, who was originally supposed to be a bad guy, but he kinda ended up being my version of Loki across several of my book series, you’d probably like him best in my story “Angel of Death: A Love Story.

Fantasy

More information HERE: https://wp.me/P5T1EY-u

How to Manually Sideload an Ebook Using Calibre

I loved my Nook.   It was relatively inexpensive, it’s around the same size, weight and ‘feel’ as your typical physical paper book, and unlike the fancier color models, the screen displays in a nice, matte finish typical of ‘real’ paper which is easy on the eyes.  It was simple to set up a user account with Barnes & Noble … go online, give them your credit card number, click, buy.  Then one day I followed a link to download a friend’s ebook from a place called Smashwords and ran into a problem…

Clunky proprietary DRM…

DRM = Draconian Reader Moneygrubbing (okay … digital rights management)

I now realize that all these low-cost Nooks, Kindles, and other e-readers do everything in their power to lock customers into their distribution platforms.  I’m kind of a maverick.  I like this little thing called CHOICE.  Here’s how you get around the pesky problem of how to purchase books from wherever you want, whenever you want, without Big Brother telling you what to do:

Download Calibre FREE ebook management software to your desktop.  This computer program will become your best friend.  You will use it extensively, not only to sideload ebooks back and forth from the internet to your computer, but you can also use it to convert and sideload a .pdf of that big homework assignment you need to read onto your e-reader or Android portable device as well. You can find them at http://calibre-ebook.com/.

WATCH THE CALIBRE DEMO!!!  Much frustration could be avoided in this world if people would only read the boring stereo instructions!

Go to a website that offers specializes in offering DRM-free ebooks for sale or free download without lots of stupid, country-specific download restrictions.  You will need to set up an account.  Here are some good ones:

www.Smashwords.com

www.GooglePlay.com

While you are learning, I suggest you first download an ebook that is free to experiment with.  Some of the platforms make it easy to find free ebooks, some make it a bit harder.  Here is a nice free epic fantasy novella (mine) for you to play around with:

Click HERE to instantly download the ebook. You don’t need to leave this website. Just “click” and it will go directly to your “downloads” folder.

If you download from a distributor, make sure the book says ‘unlimited simultaneous device usage‘ or ‘DRM free.’  Remember … DRM = Draconian Reader Moneygrubbing!!!

Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and iTunes go out of their way to keep their platforms a ‘walled gate’ so you can’t escape to buy books someplace else, so you have to be savvy about not accidentally purchasing a book you can’t read.

If you own a Nook, iPad, Kobo, Sony, Samsung Galaxy, Kobo, or just about any other e-reader besides a Kindle, the correct file type is usually .epub.   You want to download an .EPUB!!!

Now comes the fun part … getting that ebook onto your device.

  1.  Open Calibre on your desktop:

2.  Plug your e-reader into your desktop USB port:

3.  Click ‘Add Books’:

Now comes the fun part, figuring out where the HECK your computer just stashed that ebook you just downloaded.  Calibre will usually automatically default to search your desktop ‘downloads’ folder first, but if you download from another ebook distributor they often have their own special folders. Finding the book is easy if the file lists the name, but some vendors [*cough, Amazon*] use their own internal routing number to make it difficult to find it.

To easily find it, fist click on your DOWNLOADS folder, then click on DATE MODIFIED and it should appear right at the top of the list. It will say EPUB FILE.

Some vendors automatically download your book to their own named folder, so it may be named ‘My Kindle Books’ or ‘Barnes & Noble’ or whatnot. The way to find it is the same. Click into the folder, and then ‘Date Modified’ to make it appear right at the top of the page.

The file will appear in  your Calibre Library.  Now it’s time to send it to your device (make sure it’s plugged into your USB).  Highlight the book in your Calibre library so the words highlight in blue.  The correct book cover should appear to your right.  At the top of the page click ‘SEND TO DEVICE.’

See? Easy peasy. Now it’s on your e-reader, unless….

…you downloaded that ebook from Amazon and want to read it on a non-Kindle device (without their Kindle App). If that’s the case, then first you’ll have to jump through an extra hoop and add the “Strip DRM” plug-in for Calibre (get the plug-in free HERE) (installation instructions are HERE) to your Calibre install. Only get the version offered by Apprentice Alf!!! Some of the other DRM-removal tools are loaded with malware.

Once you’ve installed the plug-in, OPEN Calibre and click ‘ADD BOOKS.’ Next, you need to find the file. Open your MY DOCUMENTS folder, and then go into MY KINDLE CONTENT. Sort by DATE MODIFIED to make your most recent purchases rise to the top.

Amazon uses an ASIN number instead of an ISBN number, so if you can’t find the file by the DATE MODIFIED, then use the SEARCH box to search for the ASIN number (you can find it on the Amazon product page or your buyer receipt). Double click and the book will be added to your Calibre library.

Next you need to convert it into a format your e-reader or mobile device can use (.epub for most devices) by HIGHLIGHTING the book you wish to convert, and then clicking CONVERT BOOKS on the top toolbar.

It will open up a dialog bar. Click the DROP DOWN MENU on the top-right of the menu. For MOST e-readers, you would want an .epub file, but Calibre can also convert an .epub into a Kindle-compatible .mobi file, as well as into .pdf or .docx.  In the example below, I converted from an .epub to a Kindle-compatible .mobi file.

Click CONVERT.

When it is finished converting, the dialogue box will close and bring you back to the Calibre library. Next to the little “Format” where it said “.epub,” you will now see your new file format (i.e., .mobi or .pdf). Highlight the title you wish to read, and then click which FORMAT you wish to read if you want to read it on your desktop.  For example, if you want Calibre to open your Kindle Desktop App to synchronize your file, just click .mobi and it will open.

It’s a good idea to ALWAYS backup your non-DRM ebook purchases by saving a copy into your Calibre library, even if you own that type of device. Why? Because the big online distributors sometimes change their policies to make it difficult to access books you previously purchased in good faith , or maybe you wish to share the book within your immediate family (spouse, children, etc). Having a copy backed up to your Calibre Library will ensure you can always use that ebook the same way you would as if you owned a paper copy.

Now it’s time to read your brand new ebook.  Unplug your device and search for your brand-new ebook.  Congratulations!  You have just cast off Big Brother and declared your freedom from DRM Digital Reader Moneygrubbing!!!  Happy reading!

Be epic!

Anna Erishkigal

P.S. – if you found this tutorial to be helpful, please read my free ebook if you’re into epic fantasy/space opera / romantic fiction and recommend it to your friends?

Culloden Battlefield and the Unfortunate, Ill-Fated Battle

My husband and I recently returned from Scotland, where we got to tour the Highlands where my ancestors were born, including Mount Cuillin on Skye, several standing stones, and the Culloden Battlefield just outside of Inverness.  What was interesting was to find out that my Campbell ancestry, which in the United States is viewed with much pride due to their powerful clan-association with the Blackwatch and the Queen’s Guard, are not very well-liked in northern Scotland, while the MacLean side of my family, of which I know very little, are viewed as heroes and everywhere I mentioned them I was greeted warmly and told interesting stories.

Some of my ancestors lie buried in this mass grave 🙁

It was with some awe I walked upon the Colloden Battlefield where the crown crushed the clans who supported the Jacobite Rebellion, all because they followed a young king who viewed his armies as little more than toy soldiers.  I photographed two carved granite stones with the word MacLean written on them before I realized the long, slender grass mound I stood upon was the actual mass-grave of the clan.

Shiver…

I wonder if I was related to any of them?  I left the battlefield with a feeling of awe, determined to delve a little deeper into that side of my ancestry and find out what drove them from their homeland.

I don’t think I’ll write a Scottish history time-travel novel as Diana Gabaldon has already done that to death, but perhaps I’ll re-enact that battle somewhere in deep space?  With a different outcome?  One where the boy-king is made to understand he shouldn’t pit his ‘toy soldiers’ against the might of a conventional army, but let them retreat to the hills where they can wage a guerrilla war?

Lucifer reminds me a bit of Bonnie Prince Charlie, in thinking he can just pit a few factions against the might of the Eternal Emperor.  We all know what happens at the end of the story.  Lucifer gets cast down and ends up on Earth.  It is written thus in the bible.  But how much misery will it bring upon those who follow him? How much will the Fallen suffer?  And where will they be forced to go?

Fairy Pools, Mount Culloden, Isle of Skye. We hiked this mountain at 10:00 p.m. at night during the summer solstice — it was still light out!

So that’s my musing for today!  I hoped you enjoyed this little summary of my trip. And if you do ever get to travel to the Highlands of Scotland, be sure to roam around Skye and visit the Fairy Pools at the foot of Mount Cuillan.  I’d heard my ancestors came from that area. I don’t know if that’s true, but it was an awesome place to visit and, well off the beaten track, there were lots of handsome Highland guys who looked as though they’d just stepped off the pages of a Highland Romance novel, and plenty of no-nonsense lassies who looked like they could keep their big-tall Highlanders in line!

So that’s it for now, although perhaps once I get the rest of the pictures off my camera I’ll write about all our visits to the standing stones, the Pictish tower, and an awesome yarn shop overlooking the ocean where I learned how to dye natural tartan-dyes and got to pat the sheep who grew my new black sweater!

And here’s a song by one of my favorite Scottish folk-singers, Rebsie Fairholm, called MacCrimmon’s Lament, entirely in the Gaelic.  ‘Dh’ iadh ceo nan stuc mu eudann Chuilinn’ means ‘on Cuillan’s face’ which is the mountain you see a bit of in the picture above.  Enjoy!

MacCrimmon’s Lament (click to listen)

Be epic!

Anna Erishkigal

P.S. – visit  Rebsie Fairholm’s website to listen to her other songs. She was kind enough to let me borrow her rendition of “The Captain Cried” for my book trailer for Agents of Ki, and The Cursing Song is one of my favorites because it ties into Scottish mythology.

What’s On Your Bucket List

As a middle aged woman who was born with two left feet, people laugh at my forays into martial arts, gymnastics, and my long conversations with my imaginary friends.  Each week as I bend over and pant for breath, I ask my gymnastics coach why I’m doing this and he says ‘mid-life crisis.’  But no, really, it’s kinda fun when you reach that age that you’ve accomplished all the low-hanging fruit in your lifetime to-do list (such as an education and career goals) and you start chasing after the more absurd stuff you always wanted to do.

My earliest ‘bucket list’ item was my foray into community theater. Recently divorced and back to college to get a degree, I had no idea of who I was, so I decided to rectify that problem by becoming somebody else. What better way to do it than to become a free-spirited hippie?

I had no acting ability whatsoever when I walked into the Janus Players audition for ‘Hair.’ I didn’t know anybody. I saw the sign one night while taking an evening class and walked into the audition on impulse. I remember the director’s face as I read my lines for a script I had never seen. I hadn’t ever watched the musical! Yeah … it was pretty lame.

But then the music director asked if I could sing. I didn’t know the songs, either, although I had heard Age of Aquarius on the radio when I was a kid. So then he ran me through some basic scales. I’m one of those rare creatures that can hit a high-C cold. His eyebrows got higher and higher as he brought me through the upper registers, past the high-C, into a D, an E, and a very squeaky, breathy high-F, and he hopped off of his piano bench like the White Rabbit checking his watch when my voice finally gave out at a high-G.  It didn’t matter that my only acting experience was playing ‘Little Buttercup’ in the fifth grade. I could sing coloratura, so they stuck me in the background and the character ‘Chrysanthemum’ was born.

My eldest daughter, official mascot of the Janus Players.

Over the next six weeks, oh, boy, did my grades slip!  I was attending college at night after a full day at work and raising my eldest daughter (that’s her, she was our official mascot and was given a tiny role).  But it was also some of the most breathtakingly fun time of my life. I got recognition for a skill I’d always had (those perfect high notes), got to try on the persona of a free-loving hippie, I learned to act, a skill which has served me well in my legal career, learned to make costumes, and I learned to dance the swing. Most importantly, I met some friends who I still keep touch with today.

What do we want? PEACE!!! When do we want it? NOW!!!

 But there was one other gift that stuck with me more than any other. Because Janus Players is hosted by our local community college, the director brought in some members from the local Vietnam Veterans association to educate us that Hair is not really a story about fun-loving hippies, but a protest against a war which never had clearly defined goals.

Here is the article I wrote for the school newspaper. It was featured on the front page (bottom-right) along with the write-up about our play in general:

Nam Vets Association Tells “Hair” Cast How It Was

Six members of the Nam Vets Assn. met with cast members of the musical “Hair” to discuss what the war protests were all about in 1968, the time setting for the show. Viewpoints differed according to the time frame the G.I.’s served during Vietnam, ranging from acceptance of the war for soldiers serving before 1967, to shame for those who served later in the war.

“Everyone was afraid of being drafted and sent to ‘Nam, so they hated anyone in a uniform who represented their worst fears” said Mike Williams, who served from 1966-68.

“We saw idealism go right down the toilet,” said Williams. “Watching the (war) machine go to work… changes everyone forever.”

Hank Tucker, who served as a Combat Engineer until 1967, spoke of not daring to walk down the street in his uniform. “Most of the protestors were scared-they just wanted their brother’s and cousin’s to come home.”

“The play “Hair” is about the internal war in the U.S. by the hippies,” said Mike Trainor, who served for 6 months.

All expressed deep anger at Jane Fonda for her pro-Viet Cong stand on national television. Ms. Fonda was videotaped frolicking on the tanks of the Viet Cong during the war, portraying the V.C. movement as a humanitarian effort for the Vietnamese people. All felt that Ms. Fonda had done more damage to the war effort than any single movement.

by Moi

Not conveyed in that tiny article is the impression which stuck with us long after we’d finished singing Let The Sunshine InAll of the veterans spoke of suffering from PTSD, which at the time, most of us had never heard of. They felt proud to have served their country, but all were frustrated about how poorly they were treated after they returned. They spoke of being spat upon and called ‘baby killers’ by the hippies and war protesters we’d been cast to play. They spoke of fear, and an inability to reconnect to their families after they got home. And most of all they spoke of how nobody who hadn’t been ‘over there’ could understand what it had been like. That their experience had scarred them. That a lot of them were still not okay more than twenty or twenty-five years (at the time) after the war had ended.

This is why a significant portion of The Dark Lord’s Vessel is devoted to exploring the Archangel Mikhail’s lurking PTSD, and why it’s taking me so long to write the story. I want to get it right. I want to get it right because this group of combat veterans came into our cast session and bared their souls. I think of our soldiers returning from Afghanistan and Iraq today, and while we now shake their hand and say ‘thank you for your service’ instead of spitting upon them, not a lot else has changed. We still can’t understand what it’s like for them to reintegrate because we’ve never been over there. We cannot grasp the brotherhood and the horror of war.

My friend Heather as Lady Liberty. She played Sheila.

The knowledge the veterans gave us changed the way we portrayed the hippies. Yes, we were still a bunch of snot-nosed college students, but our characters now portrayed an edgy quality of fear as we staged the mock protests. Our music director, Tom Dutton, amended the score of Three-Five-Zero-Zero to lose that 1960’s ‘soul’ feel to be a cold, mechanistic indictment of war. Everybody who saw the play said they felt chills as we sang through the verses, enunciating each word with the precision of a sword, and it made their flesh crawl.

My friend, Dave, in “Kabuki” theater mask. He now does Revolutionary War historical re-enactment.

Being on stage was a dream I’d always had, so while I can’t say answering my ‘bucket list’ impulse to audition for community theater turned me into an actress, what it did do was improve my life in the following ways:

  1. I learned to act … a little bit;
  2. Once you’ve sung White Boys in a skimpy gold go-go dress in front of 450 people, public speaking becomes a cinch;
  3. I draw upon my experience bringing dialogue to life on a stage not just in my writing, but also in my day-job as an attorney when examining a witness during trial;
  4. I learned to dance the swing … sort of;
  5. I made some great friends;
  6. I learned how to ‘fake it until you make it.’ During one of the performances, the guys singing Crazy for the Red, Blue and White messed up which part of the song they were supposed to be singing, but after six weeks of rehearsal they worked really well together, so they all sang it wrong … right … and nobody but the cast realized they were singing the words to the wrong song!
  7. I learned how to create a character from nothing;
  8. I developed a deep and abiding respect for our veterans;
  9. The cast party… Yeah … maybe I should just “plead the fifth?”
Crazy for the Red, White and, uhm… forgot the words? Just keep singing, Mike!!!

So … what’s on your bucket list?  I want to hear from you guys because I’ve got a series in the works, a bunch of short novellas about a group of middle-aged women who cope with their impending old age by creating a bucket list and then conquering their fears.  These are meant to be short, humorous stories, mostly for fun to break up the long stretch between my full length, more serious books.

Tell me what you hope to try before you kick the bucket? And do tell us why you’ve always wanted to do it.  The more absurd, the better! And if you have a link to a video or article about your crazy dream, include that as well.  Why not? Maybe you’ll Let the Sunshine In and inspire somebody else?

Be epic!

Anna Erishkigal

“The Main Sheet” newspaper, spring 1993

Ancient Assur – Yup! It’s a Real-Life Village

I promised y’all I’d start consolidating some of my research into my website, so here we go. This isn’t meant to be anything scholarly, just me sharing some ‘where the heck did she get that crazy idea’ kind of stuff where I tell you about my arcane research gleaned from watching too much History Channel. I’ve got to put that hobby  to use somewhere! It might as well be one of my stories so I can entertain people with it.

Husband: [*stumbles downstairs at 2:00 a.m.*]   Honey? When are you coming to bed?

Anna: [*eyes glued to television*]   I can’t … I’m doing research!

Husband: [*shuffles back upstairs, grumbling about imaginary friends*]

In Sword of the Gods, my spacefaring Angelic is forced to integrate into a Neolithic village after his ship crash-lands on Earth. They visit this village again (briefly) in Angel of Death, only by then it’s nothing but ruins a bit downriver from one of Saddam Hussein’s palaces. Surprise! Assur is a real place and you can visit its ruins today (if you’re not scared of ISIS cutting off your head live on YouTube). So for this month’s blog post I’ll tell you a little about my inspiration, and then I’ll give you the link to Google Earth so you can look down on its ruins from outer space.

Assur (Ashur) started out as a village which later grew into a city-state and eventually one of the seats of the Assyrian Empire. In 3,500 B.C., it was little more than a tiny settlement by the Hiddekel (Tigris) River in what is now modern-day Iraq.

Grain growing was the staff of life in this region, so Assur always planned everything else around the growing and harvest of their fields.

I wanted to set my story close to the oldest known myths of angels, around 11,000 B.C., but before the first recorded myths of ‘fallen’ angels which date around 2,700 BC.  I originally set the story in 10,000 BC, but people didn’t really live in permanent settlements back then, cultivate crops, keep livestock, or have weapons made of metal. I just couldn’t picture Mikhail living in a tent and following a herd of goats around, so I moved the story up to 3,500 BC Assur.

Because my earliest draft of Sword of the Gods involved Mikhail living in a semi-nomadic, moveable village, I initially described it as more of a medieval setup, where people lived in cottages surrounded by their land and gardens. Oops! That’s not how people lived in Assur in 3,500 B.C. Because people were always under attack, so they built their houses close together so they could defend them.

These houses were a lot smaller than they are today.

The inside of the houses had two or sometimes even three stories. The lower floor was for gathering together to do chores and cooking, while the upper floors were for sleeping. Because it’s so hot there, but large windows make you vulnerable to attack, most houses had ladders all the way up to the rooftop to act as a kind of chimney to carry away the heat. Below are the ruins I used to describe the layout of Ninsianna’s parent’s house. It’s really not sized for a 7.5 foot tall Angelic with a 30-foot wingspan. Mikhail would bump his head a lot in such a house and not have any place to comfortably stretch his wings.

Ancient Assur was built in a series of stages. At its center are the ruins to a ziggurat, a temple to the gods.

*Image credit: Tagred Khaleel

The Ziggarat of Assur is in pretty bad shape. Erosion has eaten a lot of it away. But it is built at the apex of a natural, sloping hill which rises above the banks of the Tigris (Hiddekel) River. Hiddekel is just the ancient name of the Tigris. No, really, I didn’t make it up. Because I perceived the ruins as having been built outwards from the center, I describe my version of Assur as being built in a series of concentric rings, but in real-life it was more a bunch of lumpy squares, kinda-sorta gathered around in a roundish outgrowth pattern.

Want to know something cool? When I had to come up with a sci-fi cover quick when The Chosen One was invited to be in a box set with one of my favorite legacy sci-fi authors, I slapped some character cutouts I’d made for a promo onto three pictures of the real-life village. I used GIMP to cut out the ziggurat above (incidentally, some people believe that ziggurat is the origin of the story of the Tower of Babel):

This is a picture of the oldest excavated part of Assur which dates from around 3,000 B.C., the closest in age to my story (above):

*Image credit: Tagred Khaleel

And here’s a view of the Hiddekel (Tigris) River taken from Assur which I used the foreground bit, minus the river in the background (above). Add a picture of the Milky Way, a crashed spaceship, a bit of free GIMP image manipulation software, add a purple filter, and you have:

*Image credit: Tagred Khaleel

[*yeah … I know there’s a gap … but Mikhail stands there in the Sci-Fi version of the cover so you don’t see it*]

That’s what’s cool about being an indie author. You can do cool stuff like that which would make a ‘real’ publisher have conniption fits. I’ve sent the temp-cover off to a REAL cover artist to turn my fun-with-GIMP experiment into a permanent cover that looks all pro, but for now, I kinda like that mine is the only epic fantasy book cover that I know of which features the actual real-life archeological ruins as part of the background image.

And now [*drum roll*] … here’s the promised link to the satellite image looking down from a sky canoe towards the real-life village of Assur (Ashur):

https://www.google.com/maps/place/Ashur/@35.4621447,43.266697,1778m/data=!3m1!1e3!4m2!3m1!1s0x1553a979c7f6a995:0xa08d3d7eff4bdb4e

So that’s the end of my not-a-blog ramblings about the real-life setting of one of my book series. Really, it’s just an excuse to share some really cool pictures. If you have any questions, or suggestions about what else you’d like me to post information/answer questions about, drop a COMMENT into the thread below and I’ll see if I can’t grant your wish?

Be epic!
Anna Erishkigal

*All images self-taken photos, from U.S. government websites, or adapted from a licensed image purchased from DepositPhotos. Full list of image credit licensing available upon a written request sent via USPS certified mail with a postage prepaid return envelope. No emails please … my spam filter eats it.