The Boy Scout is a fantasy novel (book one of the trilogy Dragons Son) about a thirteen year old boy, Jimmy, who just happens to be an avid Boy Scout in the late nineteen-fifties. Much of Jimmy’s Boy Scout training saves his life and the lives of his companions as they embark on a quest to free Jimmy’s grandmother who has been kidnapped. Much to Jimmy’s astonishment his grandmother, Atthea, a grandparent Jimmy had no idea he had, turns out to be of a race he didn’t even know existed.
Jimmy and his friend Kirk stumble down a concealed shaft in a dark and spooky cave during a Boy Scout camping expedition and tumble into a down right nasty situation in an alien world, a world of dragons and elves and any number of good and evil creatures. Jimmy and Kirk are rescued from their first encounter with “nasties” by two winged warrior elf girls, Annatheia and Roannee. Extreme tensions develop as the four teenagers struggle with their relationships and learn slowly who and what they really are and the latent powers they possess.
The story takes the teenagers through intense self-discovery, wrenching fledgling romantic situations, and heart pounding life and death adventures in a landscape of unknown pleasures and perils.
Palace guards open the way into hell and fan out in all directions; searching, searching for what, survivors, there aren’t going to be any…an enemy; too late, the merciless perpetrators that ravaged here are gone. What once was conservative elegance and quite conversation now lies smashed and ruined with ugly columns of evil smelling dirty smoke rising form blackened piles of what remains of people and their artifacts.
Atthea and OrinRex enter the reception hall; the devastation they encounter is horrifying. Ghosts of elegant tapestries hung limp and smoldering from the once gleaming mahogany now charred and split paneled walls. Among the heaps of shattered furnishings are mutilated naked bodies in pools of spilled blackened blood cracked and parched on the ruined marble floor like the surface of a sun scorched mud flat. The men and boys have been tortured and the women and girls assaulted and left grotesquely splayed around the room. Their bones have been brutally broken and their skin branded and lashed and sliced with knives; the stench of burning flesh and hair fouls their nostrils bringing molten bile to their mouths causing them to double over retching.
"Rage and hate and black in a terrifying raptors stoop and we were its end; its quarry. Her arms around my waist she banked violently right then jerked straight up with such power and velocity that the blood drained from my head and I almost lost consciousness. Intense searing fire and pain exploded crimson in my mind as the tip on one acid predatory talon ripped the flesh on the back of my hand."
“It’s not just underwear Kirk. It’s a kind of armor. It weighs nothing and will keep you cool or warm as you need. All fighters wear it, see.” Roannee pulled up her shirt exposing her belly button and the under side of her breasts. “I always wear mine.”
Kirks eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Put your shirt down. Please.” Kirk begged not really meaning it.
Still holding her shirt up and taking a coquettish pose. “Well silly boy. What do you think...hummmmm?”
Kirk looked into her eyes and there was no shame or self consciousness there and all he could manage was a hushed… “Beautiful.”