King of the Mountain

King of the Mountain Summary My new proposed novel “King of the Mountain”, concerns a disabled Canadian Afghan war veteran, who has struggled with post trauma depression. After his honorable discharge from the Canadian Army as an officer, he became a private detective in Toronto. Unfortunately, He both started drinking and using drugs to forget his frustration and anger. He was a Colonel in the Canadian army. He was huge, muscle bound but moved with the grace of a cat. He lived only by his values which included a clear definition of duty, this being fighting injustice in every way, respecting human decency, courtesy and honor. He did everything he could to win loyalty through honesty and, a total knowledge of those who served him. He did everything he could to promote them, show his loyalty to them, and protect them from harm. He would in hesitantly kill for them, if absolutely necessary, if not he would either persuade his adversaries to leave the upcoming fight, or he would seriously incapacitate them. He did this to send a message to both his adversaries, and the primary authors of evil. If someone killed one of his precious friends, they would die, all of them. He left no one alive except those he assumed dead, and his most evil enemy survived almost certain death. This happened once, but he will never forget it. He would not assume, anything from that time onward. Old enemies must die He holed up in a ratty, substandard building for years, slowly drinking himself to death. Yet when he saw injustice he acted swiftly disabling the perpetrators. He became a private investigator, going after the most brutal perpetuators of evil. His was born Michael King but insisted on being called “Friend.” Everyone called him, “Friend”, his superiors, those who served with him or for him, and all his clients. We had an ecliptic memory with sharp attention to detail. Nothing got by him. He would play any game to win. This included deep cover as a spy, and complicated ruses. He was a perfect cop if you didn't mind a few murders. All his loyal partners did the same. He lived on the top of a mountain but most of his time after his honorable discharge, roaming the world. He was after his most hated enemy, Nero, born in Canada, of Sicilian parentage, and the most evil man he ever met. Nero, survived what Friend called “Certain Death” This was his first and last assumption. Even though he lost a leg in the Afghan war, below the knee, his mechanical leg and foot, served him better than a living leg. A vibrant CIA supervisor with excellent qualities, and values, along with her most trusted aides, asked him to become a confidential informant. She did this on a snowy night.

Mar 17, 2025 - 00:14

Summary

My new proposed novel “King of the Mountain”, concerns a disabled Canadian Afghan war veteran, who has struggled with post trauma depression.

After his honorable discharge from the Canadian Army as an officer, he became a private detective in Toronto. Unfortunately, He both started drinking and using drugs to forget his frustration and anger.

He was a Colonel in the Canadian army. He was huge, muscle bound but moved with the grace of a cat. He lived only by his values which included a clear definition of duty, this being fighting injustice in every way, respecting human decency, courtesy and honor.

He did everything he could to win loyalty through honesty and, a total knowledge of those who served him. He did everything he could to promote them, show his loyalty to them, and protect them from harm. He would in hesitantly kill for them, if absolutely necessary, if not he would either persuade his adversaries to leave the upcoming fight, or he would seriously incapacitate them. He did this to send a message to both his adversaries, and the primary authors of evil.

If someone killed one of his precious friends, they would die, all of them. He left no one alive except those he assumed dead, and his most evil enemy survived almost certain death. This happened once, but he will never forget it. He would not assume, anything from that time onward. Old enemies must die

He holed up in a ratty, substandard building for years, slowly drinking himself to death. Yet when he saw injustice he acted swiftly disabling the perpetrators.

He became a private investigator, going after the most brutal perpetuators of evil.

His was born Michael King but insisted on being called “Friend.” Everyone called him, “Friend”, his superiors, those who served with him or for him, and all his clients.

We had an ecliptic memory with sharp attention to detail. Nothing got by him. He would play any game to win. This included deep cover as a spy, and complicated ruses. He was a perfect cop if you didn't mind a few murders. All his loyal partners did the same.

He lived on the top of a mountain but most of his time after his honorable discharge, roaming the world. He was after his most hated enemy, Nero, born in Canada, of Sicilian parentage, and the most evil man he ever met. Nero, survived what Friend called “Certain Death” This was his first and last assumption.

Even though he lost a leg in the Afghan war, below the knee, his mechanical leg and foot, served him better than a living leg.

A vibrant CIA supervisor with excellent qualities, and values, along with her most trusted aides, asked him to become a confidential informant.

She did this on a snowy night.