The Adventures of Bob Juan Casanova

The Winter's Rose Chapter 3 – The Lake It was the first time Roberin had seen the blue haired, blue winged, tall, thin and leggy Faerie but it felt as though he had known her his entire life. He knew he had never been to the lake under the moon so large and full that its reflection filled the center of the crystal clear body of water, but it felt so familiar it was as though it was his truest home. A symphony of stars encircled the brilliant moon as giant clouds floated lazily overhead, their puffy white in stark yet beautiful contrast to the endless black of the night sky above them. The ground beneath his feet was covered in the softest, greenest grass Roberin had ever seen or stood upon. No crickets chirped, no bullfrogs sang. It was golden silence as far as his ears could hear and as purely beautifully peaceful as far as his eyes could see. The heartbroken gardener looked around, taking it all in but his eyes came back to the blue winged b...

The Winter's Rose Chapter 2 – The Heroic Gardener The Alarm went out all over Castle Drakewood, the Queen had been captured by the evil Dark Prince Balthazar from the Grey Mountains, the guards had been knocked unconscious and the villainous prince was fast fleeing the kingdom with his prisoner trapped in a cage atop a well guarded wagon in his escaping caravan. The townsfolk, the noblemen and the ministers were all afraid to act but one man in all the kingdom was brave enough to go after Balthazar and attempt to rescue the Queen from his vile clutches. Many knew him as the shy and crippled gardener, but Roberin Gossamer was in fact much more than that. He was a master horseman and skilled swordsman. He rode now on his powerful charger through the streets of the city and out into the forest where Prince Balthazar and his men were hoping to disappear from any possible pursuit, but they would not escape from the heroic gardener of Castle Drakewood. Roberin willed his hor...

The Winter's Rose Chapter 1 – The Garden As Roberin Gossamer dreamt, Molanna watched on from her garden in the Faerie Realm… “ I wonder what type of magic goes on in days like this, when most children are asked to play inside and stuffy grownups grumble and mumble to themselves, all the while wishing for different weather,” Roberin’s mother whispered to him as she held him in her arms while they both gazed out the window at the wintry autumn weather outside the castle window. “And while that weather is being wished away, the fall faeries come out to dance and play. Oh, what time is spent wishing away the magic being whirled and twirled about their homes and gardens; they shall never know.” Roberin, all of four years old and enchanted by the sound of his mother’s voice and the whimsical magic of her words, looked out into the gray beyond his warm dwelling and watched as lazy snowflakes fell upon bundles of fallen orange, red and brown leaves in the castle courtyard. ...

(What follows is a short story featuring Spider-Man that I wrote one afternoon, over six years ago now. I wrote it on a day I was filled with a lot of self doubt, and admitted as much to a friend of mine I was chatting with online. He suggested I write a story where Peter Parker is feeling the same sorts of doubt, so I did, and this following story is the result. It is just a work of fandom and not authorized by Marvel comics or their parent companies. This blog has no ads or revenue. Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy reading it.)                 There were only three of them—only three.  When you've faced Galactus and fought in the secret wars, three hoods dragging a woman into an alley seems like nothing more than taking out the trash or putting dishes in the machine… not that I own a dishwasher, but you get my point.                 I’d been at the Bugle earlie...

(For those of you who have been awesome enough to have been reading this 4 part blog all month, the end is here. For those new here, please reads the first three parts of the story before reading any further on this installment. If you like what you've read, please leave comments and share with your friends. Thanks.) I arrived back at my San Francisco home around 1 PM and immediately went to work.  I opened the attaché case and pulled out the hefty thousand some page manuscript from within.  The title page alone took me by surprise:                 The Greatest Adventure                 by Anderson Peter Hart                 I put the title page aside and was again surprised to read the dedication on the next page:     ...