Typo Squad
Typo Squad Book 1
by Stephen Lomer
by Stephen Lomer
Genre: Action, Adventure
Typos are lethal to 98% of the population. Be thankful Typo Squad is on patrol …
Richard Shonnary was a Typo Squad legend. He had a gift for seeking out and destroying errorist cells, and was almost single handedly responsible for bringing about the end of errorism. But one night, a single errant bullet fired by his brother prematurely ended his career.
Convinced to come out of self-imposed retirement after five years, Richard unknowingly gives rise to his greatest enemy — Anton Nym. Will he and his new partner be able to stop this latest threat before deadly typos are unleashed upon an unwitting world?
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The car, a black SUV as it turned out, emerged from little more than a
walking path nestled among the trees, then crested the hill, coming to
rest with its front tires sitting on the stream’s highest bank, a spot
that would not see water until the spring runoff. A woman stepped out
from the driver’s side, slammed the door shut, and looked around. He
could tell immediately by the way she was dressed who she was, and he
had a pretty good idea of what she wanted. But as he was quite sure he
wasn’t interested, he turned his attention back to his fishing as she
approached.
She stood there for a minute or so, arms folded, watching him, but neither of them said a word. At last, her voice carried clearly in the near silence as she called to him.
“Are you Richard Shonnary?” It was less a question and more of a statement of skepticism, as though she could not believe that he was who she thought he was.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “I prefer Dick.”
“Some guys do,” she said, without missing a beat. “That doesn’t matter to me.”
“Good one.” He grunted. “Never heard that before.”
He cast his line back out and reeled in a bit, hoping the conversation was done, but knowing it was likely far from over.
“You’re not an easy man to find,” she said after a time.
“That’s by design,” Dick replied. “I prefer the solitude.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely up here, all by yourself?”
He looked back at her. She had plopped herself down on the bank and was sitting cross-legged, absently playing with some pebbles scattered on the silt. Her bright red hair, pulled back into a tight ponytail, had turned to flame in the sun.
“See now, I thought that uniform meant that you were with Typo Squad,” Dick said. “I didn’t realize you were a therapist.”
The woman smiled. “I am with Typo Squad.”
“Well, good for you,” Dick said. “Now if you don’t mind?”
“Don’t you want to know who I am? Why I’m here?” she asked.
“No, and no,” Dick answered.
They lapsed back into silence. Dick could feel the young woman staring at him, waiting. The minutes ticked by, and still she said nothing. On the opposite bank, a fawn poked her head out from the tree line and cautiously dipped her head down for a drink.
“Oh, all right then,” Dick said at last. “Make your pitch and get outta here.”
“My name’s Thea,” she said brightly. “Thea Saurus.”
Dick said nothing.
“And a pleasure to meet you too,” she said. “Anyway, I’m here to bring you back.”
Dick looked over at her. “Bring me back? Back where?”
“To Typo Squad.”
She stood there for a minute or so, arms folded, watching him, but neither of them said a word. At last, her voice carried clearly in the near silence as she called to him.
“Are you Richard Shonnary?” It was less a question and more of a statement of skepticism, as though she could not believe that he was who she thought he was.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “I prefer Dick.”
“Some guys do,” she said, without missing a beat. “That doesn’t matter to me.”
“Good one.” He grunted. “Never heard that before.”
He cast his line back out and reeled in a bit, hoping the conversation was done, but knowing it was likely far from over.
“You’re not an easy man to find,” she said after a time.
“That’s by design,” Dick replied. “I prefer the solitude.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely up here, all by yourself?”
He looked back at her. She had plopped herself down on the bank and was sitting cross-legged, absently playing with some pebbles scattered on the silt. Her bright red hair, pulled back into a tight ponytail, had turned to flame in the sun.
“See now, I thought that uniform meant that you were with Typo Squad,” Dick said. “I didn’t realize you were a therapist.”
The woman smiled. “I am with Typo Squad.”
“Well, good for you,” Dick said. “Now if you don’t mind?”
“Don’t you want to know who I am? Why I’m here?” she asked.
“No, and no,” Dick answered.
They lapsed back into silence. Dick could feel the young woman staring at him, waiting. The minutes ticked by, and still she said nothing. On the opposite bank, a fawn poked her head out from the tree line and cautiously dipped her head down for a drink.
“Oh, all right then,” Dick said at last. “Make your pitch and get outta here.”
“My name’s Thea,” she said brightly. “Thea Saurus.”
Dick said nothing.
“And a pleasure to meet you too,” she said. “Anyway, I’m here to bring you back.”
Dick looked over at her. “Bring me back? Back where?”
“To Typo Squad.”
Return
of the Wordmonger
Typo
Squad Book 2
The
quest to find Anton Nym and his errorist army are put on hold as Typo
Squad is called away to London to help one of their own confront a
villain from his past — a mysterious foe known only as the
Wordmonger.
Joining forces with Her Majesty’s Royal Typo Brigade, Typo Squad takes up residence in Buckingham Palace to try and draw out this dangerous madman.
With the lives of the royal family in their hands, will Typo Squad be up to the challenge of finding and capturing the Wordmonger? Or will history repeat itself?
Joining forces with Her Majesty’s Royal Typo Brigade, Typo Squad takes up residence in Buckingham Palace to try and draw out this dangerous madman.
With the lives of the royal family in their hands, will Typo Squad be up to the challenge of finding and capturing the Wordmonger? Or will history repeat itself?
loudspeaker and Dick and Ewan headed for their gate. Dick let Ewan go down
the Jetway first, and when they boarded, watched the delightful confusion on
Ewan’s face as he realized where their seats were.
“My goodness,” said Ewan, turning to Dick. “First class?”
“Last year Commander Peck told me I’d have whatever resources I needed
at my disposal,” said Dick, grinning. “It’s a long flight. I felt I needed this.
Since you’re with me, you get it too.”
They stowed their carry-ons and settled into their luxurious seats. Dick
looked over at Ewan and nodded at the empty seat between them.
“We’re in luck,” he said, a look of contentment on his face. “There’s no one
in the middle.”
“There was no one in the middle,” said Big, suddenly appearing and easing
his bulk into the center seat. “Oooh, that’s soft.”
Dick was thunderstruck. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Oh, you didn’t think I was gonna let you two have this adventure on your
own, did you?” Big smiled. “Dick. I thought you knew me better than that.”
Dick tried to process what was happening.
“But how did you get a ticket?” he pressed.
“Oh, well,” Big said, “I bumped into Commander Peck at the gym.”
“You were at the gym?” Ewan asked.
“Oh, we’re gonna start right away, are we? All right then, you’re so old—”
“Big,” Dick cut across him. “Finish your story.”
Big pointed at Ewan. “Put a pin in that conversation, Methuselah; we’re not
done,” he said, and then turned back to Dick. “So I bumped into Peck at the
gym and I told him that since you guys were gonna be away, it would be the
perfect opportunity for him and me to spend some quality time together.
Wasn’t even half an hour later that I had a ticket in my hand.”
Dick laughed out loud, and even Ewan chuckled softly.
“Fine,” Dick said. “Just don’t start an international incident.”
“Me?” Big said with false innocence. “I am a model of decorum. I will hold
myself to the highest standards during our British expedition.”
Dick nodded. “Good.”
At that moment, a flight attendant passed by.
“Pardon me, miss?” Big said, raising a beckoning hand.
“Yes sir?” the woman asked brightly.
“Just curious,” Big said. “Is first class pants-optional?”
The
Typo Alliance
The
Typo Squad Book 3
Typos
are lethal to 98% of the population. Be thankful typo squad is on
patrol …
Typo Squad is dealt a terrible blow by Anton Nym and his new errorist cell, known as the Erristocracy. But when all seems lost, the tide turns with the rise of the Typo Alliance.
With a new headquarters, a new captain, and the arrival of some truly unexpected allies, Typo Squad is set on a collision course with the most dangerous foes they’ve ever faced.
Will Dick and his team be able to overcome the odds and make the world safe from typos once and for all? Or will Nym and his inner circle be victorious in the end?
Typo Squad is dealt a terrible blow by Anton Nym and his new errorist cell, known as the Erristocracy. But when all seems lost, the tide turns with the rise of the Typo Alliance.
With a new headquarters, a new captain, and the arrival of some truly unexpected allies, Typo Squad is set on a collision course with the most dangerous foes they’ve ever faced.
Will Dick and his team be able to overcome the odds and make the world safe from typos once and for all? Or will Nym and his inner circle be victorious in the end?
Stephen Lomer is the Amazon best-selling author of the hugely popular Typo Squad book series, the short story collections Stargazer Lilies or Nothing at All and Hell's Nerds and Other Tales, and the holiday novella Belle's Christmas Carol. He also has featured stories in the anthologies UnCommon Evil, Once Upon a Time in Gravity City, and The Dystopian States of America.
Stephen wrote the screenplay for, and starred in, the short film Typo Squad: Words Can Hurt You, and is the host of the YouTube series Tell Me About Your Damn Book. He's a hardcore fan of the Houston Texans, despite living in the Hub of the Universe his whole life, and believes Mark Twain was correct about pretty much everything.
Stephen lives on Boston's North Shore with his wife, Teresa.
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