Ray and Jay and Bob, part 1 Montreal, Canada, 2018 The late September sun had that particular Montreal gold, the kind that gilded the crumbling brick of the Plateau and made the dust motes dance in the air of Ramon Atila’s Civic. The sun warmed the asphalt of Boulevard Décarie, casting a honeyed glow that made even the traffic seem cheerful. Ramon navigated the chaos with one hand on the wheel and the other holding an expertly-rolled blunt, its tip glowing like a tiny, fragrant amber. The scent of high-grade Sour Diesel filled the car, a familiar perfume for his morning commute to his shift at the YMCA. He was, as ever, blissfully unaware. His phone, plugged into the aux cord, was a repository of 347 unread emails and 82 unread texts. He’d been off-grid, holed up in his Mile-End apartment finishing a new treatment, his mind a universe away from the mundane. The radio was tuned to CJAD, Barry “The Bull” Buchanan’s voice a familiar, grating comfort. Today, the airwaves were crackli...
Ramon Atila’s BIBLIOGRAPHY *updated* Graphic Novel Series >>>>> To LIVE and DIE on MARS (60 volumes) -Vol I-V Bandits on Mars -Vol VI-X Karla -Vol XI-XV Ari v Pitt -Vol XVI-XX The Spaceport -Vol XXI-XXV Saturn -Vol XXVI-XXX The Big Planets -Vol XXXI-XXXV Martian Summer 90 -Vol XXXVI-XL. Amara -Vol XLI-XLV. I ❤️ Earth -Vol XLVI-L The Corona Star System -Vol LI-LV Aura Beach -Vol LVI-LX The Phantom Vigilante UP IN THE GALAXY (22 episodes) THE ADVENTURES OF RAY NEUTRINO (3 episodes) -Ray Neut...
Ray and Jay and Bob, part 2 RAY AND JAY AND BOB PART II THE INDUSTRY STRIKES BACK It is a dark time for Ramon Atila. Despite the lucrative Universal deal to direct his own novel, the fledgling auteur is a man besieged. Hounded by a vengeful crime family who believe his fiction is a prophetic tell-all, stalked by an ex-girlfriend’s unhinged mother, and paralyzed by the terror of the blank page, Ray has fled the scrutiny of the city for the deceptive peace of a suburban hotel. But even in exile, there is no escape… ••• The black, late-model Lincoln Town Car, a land-going leviathan of tinted glass and polished menace, cruised with predatory silence down the rain-slicked boulevard. Its sheer, impersonal mass seemed to swallow the light from the streetlamps, a monolithic slab of power gliding through the Montreal night. This was no mere vehicle; it was a command ship, a mobile fortress from which a very specific, cold fury was being projected. With a soft, hydraulic hiss, a panel on t...
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