Michael Patriate thinks he has it all.
Fate decides to teach him a lesson.
Welcome to the 15th Century.
That's the marketing speak for what Joe's done to me. One night I'm walking through Manhattan celebrating my success, the next I'm stuck alone out in the Italian wilderness.
But I've done pretty well here, and I'm not through yet. I figure to take back what was stolen from me, in my own time or right here while Columbus does his dirty deeds in the New World.
I heard someone named Bonella made some comments on something I said. I think her words were:
"Stop sniffling about coffee. Geez...go to the forest and collect some beans already. And about owning this place...yeah, dream on."
I may not have a cup of coffee in the morning, but I've got something more important--me. I've rescued a friend from two thugs, faced down pirates, taken out a hitman wanting to slit my throat, even done a stint in a Portuguese prison where the cockroaches will carry you off when you're not looking. And I'm poised to be the guy you see when you need an edge. Not bad for a country kid from North Carolina.
So, Bonella, climb on that bag-of-sticks horse of yours and come for a visit. I'll take your mount, fly back home, and get even with a certain Weasel.
Michael X. Patriate, The King of Silk