Synopsis

When Maya Smock writes her first novel, everything seems to go her way. Her book practically writes itself. She marries her gorgeous agent. Her name is on all of the best seller lists. Billionaire author Jay McCallister takes an interest in her meteoric rise to fame and invites her into his world of alien-believing celebrities. Her life changes forever when he tells her that they were both created inside of a laboratory. These authors are embedding an alien genetic code within the pages of their novels that originated from Nazi Germany because…

The time has come. They are here.

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Excerpt

But I specialize in nonfiction,” he protested.

“Not today.  Listen, it’s easy.  The writers line-up and wait their turn.  You signal a green light when it’s time for one of them to sit in front of you.  And then you switch it to red when you are busy during a pitch session.  Repeat for each writer you see.  The buzzer is set for three minutes.  Each writer summarizes his or her story.  You offer honest feedback, well maybe not too honest.”  Michelle laughed at her feeble joke.  “Anyway, you might even want to represent one of them.”

“Hah, I doubt it.  I know jack shit about horror and science fiction.  And I am well aware of what a pitch is, thank you.  I think I can handle this.”  Michelle nodded and smiled.  Her deep set eyes disappeared behind her fleshy cheeks.  She handed him her revised schedule for the rest of Saturday and Sunday and then waddled away, leaving Claude alone with a small line already forming.

Claude slinked into his chair and practiced the off/on switch of the signal and then the on/off switch of the buzzer.  Before committing to the “green” light of welcoming a new writer to sit down, he pulled out his phone.  There were four messages from Veronica.  She probably called to bitch about him being late.  He had the event coordinator to thank for that.  He then glanced at the new schedule-classes that taught elements of steampunk, paranormal romance and historical romance.  Oh great, he thought, I know nothing about this nor do I want to.  At least the Meet-and-Greet cocktail party promised an open bar.  He reluctantly flicked on the green light and an old, thin man appeared in the chair across from him.

“Can I help you?” Claude asked.

The man wore a Star Trek t-shirt with a series of ears ending with Spock’s pointy ear on the front side.  ‘Highly Logical Evolution’ was underneath the picture.  “I’m here to pitch you my novel.”

Claude nodded and turned on the buzzer.  “Go.”

“It’s about an astronaut who runs into a tribe of aliens somewhere around Saturn.  He falls in love with one of the female aliens and then follows her back to the star that she came from.  She then introduces him to her…”

Claude drifted off into daydream land at this point.  He glanced at the buzzer.  Only one minute had passed.  It was going to be a long day.  Finally the buzzer went off.

“So what do you think?” the man asked.

“Honestly, I am not sure.  You have an active imagination and it’s brimming with potential.  Send my agency a copy once you are finished.”  Claude dug inside of his breast pocket for a stack of the agency’s business cards and then handed the man one of them.  He seemed happy and left.

Claude fine-tuned his brush-off speech for the next four writers, all white men and all over forty years old.  Their ideas were way over the top and difficult to follow.  He began losing faith in this so-called opportunity.  Writer number five blathered on about The Grays attacking the United States for the gold in Fort Knox.  He wished he had a bottle of vodka and a vile of cocaine to make the time go by faster.  Maybe some marijuana as well.  An altered state of mind might make the pitches entertaining.  The man with the Gray alien story finished his pitch.  Although Claude didn’t like the story, it was the best one he’d heard since pitch fest began.  “Yes, I think I see where you are going with this.  I think I can sell it.  Email me the manuscript direct.  Let me write down my email.  PDF please and I’ll see what I can do.”

The man smiled and practically floated away.  Claude’s afternoon improved.  Science fiction and horror began to rub off.  There were all kinds of new shows on television that discussed the possibility of aliens and vampires being real.  Science fiction and horror could replace the commission of the diet doctor.  He could hang another bestselling cover in his office.  One of these books could be the basis for a new pilot or even a movie.  For a moment, he felt the same excitement he had once felt at the onset of his career and got excited.  Maybe this was why Veronica sent him here.  He woke up from his daydream and began to take notes.

The first girl science fiction writer sat down in front of him.  She was also the first of the dozen or so writers to be under forty.  He guessed her to be somewhere in her early twenties.  She was short and small with long dark brown hair and amber brown eyes.  Her eyes were captivating.  They were shaped like almonds and outlined with thick eyelashes.  He wasn’t sure about her race, maybe mixed or Hispanic or even Native American-definitely exotic.  She was pretty in a self-conscious sort of a way.  She wore no makeup, a plain black shirt, a crystal necklace, and jeans.  There was something witchy and grungy about her, like she belonged in a novel about witchcraft.

“Okay, are you ready?” Claude asked.  She nodded and he started the timer.  Silence.  “Let’s start this again.”  She nodded but still would not speak.  This was a first.  Out of all of the windbags he listened to, she was the first to be tongue-tied.  “Let’s do this with no timer.  Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m so sorry.  I’ll try this tomorrow,” she said and then got up from her chair.  Her eyes watered and her skin reddened.

“Miss, there is no sci-fi pitch fest tomorrow.  Here, look at the schedule.”  Claude slid the itinerary her way before she walked off.  “It’s all paranormal and romance crap tomorrow.”  He got her to smile.  “C’mon, sit down.  Trust me, my opinion on this subject is meaningless.  I specialize in diet books and nonfiction.  I’m here because I was late.  Try your pitch on me, I’m harmless.”

She reddened again, embarrassed at something he must have said.  Hotel workers entered the ballroom and began collapsing the cubicles, putting round tables in their space.  He had a two hour reprieve and then it was cocktail time.

“There kicking us out,” the girl said.  “Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Let me assume you are coming to the cocktail hour.”  The girl nodded.  “How about you drink up some false courage and then pitch me?”  She smiled and nodded.  Claude wouldn’t mind taking her back to his room at the end of the night, but there was something more.  She had his attention.

“I’ll be here.  I’ll be ready then,” she said.

Yes, Vegas was getting better and better.

“Ha! Do you like that?” Vincent laughed devilishly. “You never respected me! But after today, you’ll never win again!” He pushed even more lightning bolts toward Jak. “You’ll have to go home and tell them that you were beaten by your little brother. Everyone will see that you’re not so perfect after all.”

Jak’s blue striker crystallized from the intense heat of the electric bolts. “Aaaahh!” he screamed. He tried to deflect the powerful torrents.

“You are nothing!” Vincent yelled.

Jak wheezed with the last of his strength. His words strained from the bottom of his diaphragm to the tip of his tongue. “It is a shame. Your first victory will be our last moment as brothers.” His face tightened. His brows merged. Moisture soaked his forehead. His knuckles whitened around his striker. His muscles locked up. “You need to know two things.” Jak paused to catch his breath. “I love you. I always have… Aaaahh!” A chilling scream bellowed forth before he could finish.

Vincent’s anger softened once he had won. He tried to release the rail and stop the flow of electricity, but something from beyond held his hand on the track. He vigorously struggled to let go, but it seemed an invisible force kept his hand there against his will.

Jak’s power met its limits. His striker could no longer take the electrical assault. It exploded into fragments of tiny blue shards. The lightning bolts devoured him.

Everything went dark as Vincent collapsed.

A strange, uneasy silence fell.

Face down, Vincent clumsily groped his way through the pitch-black tunnel. With a remorseful tone, he called out to his brother. “Jak, I’m sorry.” He began to stutter. “I was just… I don’t know… I was being stupid and mad about dumb stuff. I’ve never felt that kind of anger before. I didn’t know what I was doing. I swear. I’m really, really sorry. ANSWER ME!”

About the Author

Dina Rae brings an academic element to her novels by weaving research and history throughout the stories. Big Pharma, Big Agri, Big Conspiracy is Dina’s first nonfiction work.
Dina lives with her husband, two daughters, and dog outside of Dallas. She is a Christian, avid tennis player, movie buff, teacher, and self-proclaimed expert on several conspiracy theories. She has been interviewed numerous times in e-zines, websites, blogs, newspapers, and syndicated radio programs. When she is not writing she is reading novels from her favorite authors Dan Brown, Stephen King, Brad Thor, and George R.R. Martin. She also enjoys reading about religion, UFOs, New World Order, government conspiracies, political intrigue, and other cultures. The Best Seller, her newest sci-fi novel, is released by Solstice Publishing.

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Follow the Tour

 

Title: Floor 21
Author: Jason Luthor
Publisher: Scout Press
Pages: 355
Genre: Sci-fi/Dystopian

Synopsis

The last of humanity is trapped at the top of an isolated apartment tower with no memory of how they got there or why. All travel beneath Floor 21 is forbidden, and nobody can ever recall seeing the ground floor. Beneath Floor 21, a sickness known as the Creep infests that halls of the Tower. A biological mass that grows stronger in reaction to people’s fear and anger, the Creep prey’s on people by causing them to hallucinate until they’re in a state of panicking, before finally growing strong enough to lash out and consume them. Only a small team known as Scavengers are allowed to go beneath Floor 21 to pillage the lower levels in search of food and supplies.

Jackie is a brilliant young girl that lives far above the infection and who rarely has to worry about facing any harm. However, her intense curiosity drives her to investigate the bottom floors and the Creep. To deal with her own anxiety and insecurities, she documents her experiences on a personal recorder as she explores the secrets of the Tower. During the course of her investigation, Jackie will find herself at odds with Tower Authority, which safeguards what remains of humanity, as she attempts to determine what created the Creep, how humanity became trapped at the top of the Tower, and whether anyone knows if escape is even possible.

Excerpt

When you stop and think about it, I mean, our lives don’t make sense. We couldn’t have always lived up here, right? It gets me pretty antsy thinking about it because, I mean, this is a tower, so we had to have come up the stairs at some point. Didn’t we?

I don’t know, and thinking about it gets me frustrated. When I’m in this kind of mood, I go to the rooftop and look out. You can actually see other towers rising up in the distance. Some aren’t even that far from ours. I stare at them, and I’m just like . . . is anybody over there? Is anybody looking back at me? Does anybody know or remember we’re trapped in this place?

Or are we all that’s left?

After I’ve gotten myself sufficiently depressed, I’ll stare over the edge of the roof, trying to see how far below I can look. Thing is, it’s impossible to see much. This tower just vanishes into the Darkness. Nobody, and I mean nobody, even knows why. It’s just blackness down there.

Oh, about Floor 12. Yeah, that’s where the Creep really starts. The Creep? It’s this . . . gunk. Super-disgusting stuff that you shouldn’t touch because it makes you feel weird, and the lower down the Tower you go, the more you see it. It starts to cover the walls, and it’s kinda gross. It’s really slick, like saliva, and it looks all muscle-y. Almost alive. Good thing you don’t have to worry about it when you’re higher than Floor 11. Still, I wonder what it is. We all do. I know that when you touch it, you can start hallucinating. I did once. Well, okay, I’m lying. I’ve touched it a few times when I’ve been on the lower levels, which is why my parents made the rule that I couldn’t head down there in the first place. I mean, I don’t pay attention to them, but I get why they don’t want me going that far below into the Tower. The Creep makes you see . . . things. Shadowy things. Sometimes they’re right in front of you, but most of the time, they’re in the corner of your eye. They say that by Floor 21, you don’t even have to touch the Creep to hallucinate, which is a total trip. Must suck to live down there.

About the Author

Jason Luthor has spent a long life writing for sports outlets, media companies and universities. His earliest writing years came during his coverage of the San Antonio Spurs as an affiliate with the Spurs Report and its media partner, WOAI Radio. He would later enjoy a moderate relationship with Blizzard Entertainment, writing lore and stories for potential use in future games. At the academic level he has spent several years pursuing a PhD in American History at the University of Houston, with a special emphasis on Native American history.

His inspirations include some of the obvious; The Lord of the Rings and Chronciles of Narnia are some of the most cited fantasy series in history. However, his favorite reads include the Earthsea Cycle, the Chronicles of Prydain, as well as science fiction hits such as Starship Troopers and Do Androids dream of Electric Sheep?

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About the Series

Title: The Pirates Cycle Series
Author: Chris Gerrib
Publisher: Cincinnatus Press
Genre: Science Fiction

When eighteen-year-old Janet Pilgrim’s boyfriend was killed in a training accident at the space academy, she thought she was going to be thrown out. Instead, she soon found herself shipping out as a junior astronaut on the forty-year old spacecraft Windy City bound for Mars.

But freighters and passenger ships aren’t the only craft plying the spaceways. When the Windy City is attacked by pirates on the way to Mars, Janet finds herself in more danger than she could ever have imagined.

The Pirates Cycle series is available at Amazon.

Excerpt

A very solid clunk on the outer bulkhead awoke me from my after-watch nap.  This was immediately followed by the general alarm.  The ship’s Voice was reporting all sorts of problems, and as I rolled out of my rack the lights flickered off, and a second later about half of them came on again.  As I listened to the Voice, I heard three alarms, any one of which was serious.  First I heard a “loss of communication” alarm, then a “ reactor coolant leak #2 radiator” and finally a loss of pressure alarm for the #3 greenhouse.

The reactor coolant leak scared me the most.   Our reactor was a pebble-bed unit, so it couldn’t melt.  But if it got too hot, it would automatically shut down.  No reactor meant no propulsion which meant we’d sail past Mars and out of the Solar System.  Some uncounted tens of thousands of years later some unknown alien would find our bones.  Maybe.

I jumped into a pair of coveralls and raced to the greenhouse.  Everything seemed to be in slow motion, but it was really only a few seconds before I was at the pressure door to the greenhouse.  As I looked in through the observation port, still struggling though sleep and shock, I couldn’t understand at first what I was seeing.  Maybe I didn’t want to understand.

Practically all the plants had been sucked out of the compartment, and what few remained had been sucked clean of leaves.  A couple of the water sprays were running, and the water coming out was boiling and freezing at the same time.  I looked shipdown towards the outer hull.  Something had cut a gouge almost the entire length of the compartment, slicing through the twin hulls like a hot knife through butter.  There were scorch marks along the edges of the gash, which must have immediately vented the compartment to space.

A flash of red caught my eye.  I blinked and saw Kate, drifting lifelessly against the far bulkhead.  I stared at her in disbelief.  There was a red streak of blood down her face from her nose, and her hair was matted with blood, whether from her ears or a skull wound I couldn’t tell.  There was nothing I could do.  I only hoped that she had passed out quickly from the loss of pressure.  I pounded on the hatch for a minute, out of frustration more then anything else.

“Kate, where are you?”  Alex said, his voice booming out of the announcing system.

I picked up the nearest ship’s phone and dialed the pilothouse.  Ken answered.  “Kate was trapped in #3 greenhouse.  The aft bulkhead and hatch holding.”  It took me a minute to notice that there was no answer.  “Ken, status?”

“You’d better get up to the pilothouse fast, Janet.”

About the Author

Chris Gerrib admits to being a bit obsessed with Mars, but in a healthy way.  Chris still has a day job as the IT director at a Chicago-area bank, and holds degrees in history and business from the University of Illinois and Southern Illinois University.  He also served in the US Navy during the First Gulf War, and can proudly report that not one Iraqi MiG bombed Jacksonville, Florida while he was in the service.  In his copious free time, Chris is a past President of and currently active in his local Rotary club.  His three-novel series set on Mars, The Pirate Cycle, is being reissued by Cincinnatus Press.

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Giveaway

Chris Gerrib is giving away one complete paperback set of The Pirates Cycle (3 books) and two complete ebook sets!

Terms & Conditions:

• By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
• One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one paperback set and two winners will be chosen to receive one of two ebook sets.
• This giveaway begins July 5 and ends on July 29.
• Winners will be contacted via email on July 30.
• Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!

ENTER TO WIN!

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Synopsis

Under the totalitarian reign of the 23rd century’s world’s government- The Sovereign Regime- control is made possible by the identity chip implanted in every human being, recording everything that is seen, done, and experienced.

No more bank accounts.

No more smart phones.

No more secrets.

When Goro inadvertently overhears an exchange of sensitive information, causing him to confront the truth about his world and prompting him to choose his true loyalties, his dream of revolution kicks into high gear. Goro doesn’t know he has covert intel in his possession both the SR and the resistance movement are desperate to acquire.

Determined to attempt the impossible task of bringing down the world government, he and his closest friends gain access to the key to ultimately deciding who has sovereignty.

But who will get to Goro first: The resistance or the Sovereign Regime?

Amazon  ~  Barnes & Noble

Guest Post

Building Relationships with students

I have found that building a bridge with my teenaged students is paramount to helping them achieve success. When someone other than a family member genuinely cares about their lives and what goes on with them, it makes a difference- even if it’s just a brief smile in their direction. I’m not all that, believe me, but I have an innate ability to connect with youth- thankfully I was born with it!  Therefore, I decided to write a YA Dystopian novel for not just my students, but for the world as well. Even though I am biased in thinking my students are rock stars!

I want my students to know that I am there for them. I want them to be able to look back over their high school years and hopefully say, “That Hughes teacher was always in my business, (they don’t really say this, lol) but no really, it was cool of her. She made an impact on my life.” THAT is the ultimate high five- when a student comes up to you years later and thanks you, saying they appreciated you being there for them. In my book Sovereignty, Goro is the ultimate cocky teenager, thinking he is all that and a bag of chips, but he learns real life giving lessons and comes out stronger and more gracious in the end.

The three main characters, Goro, Alex, and Cory are named after the three students who positively influenced my life throughout my teaching career. They say, “To teach is to touch a life forever,” well, these three students touched my life profoundly. They were the reason I stayed with teaching. I mentored all three of these exceptional students.

Building relationships with students can be one of the most rewarding aspects of being a teacher. Of course, all my students are important to me, but every once in a while, a few will rise above the rest. Seeing students learn, grow, succeed in life, is the best feeling in the world. It’s a marathon, not a sprint and it’s never easy for a teacher to build relationships, but it is ultimately rewarding in the long run. I’ve had students tell me I was the only teacher that cared enough to check in with them. I’ve had students tell me if it wasn’t for my care and concern, they would’ve dropped out of high school. Again, this is not to point the spotlight on myself, I just want to reiterate that students don’t care how much you know, until they know how much you care. Many times the old clichés are too true. J

About the Author

With master’s degrees in education, special education, and counseling, Anjenique “Jen” Hughes is a high school English and math teacher who loves teaching and mentoring young people. She enjoys traveling and has worked with youth on five continents. Saying she is “young at heart” is an understatement; she is fluent in sarcasm, breaks eardrums with her teacher voice (students have complained when they were within earshot), and cracks sarcastic jokes with the best of her students. Her work with ethnically and socioeconomically diverse youth has inspired her to write books that appeal to a broad variety of students seeking stories of bravery, perseverance, loyalty, and success.

 Website  ~  Twitter  ~ Facebook

Giveaway

Five winners will each get a copy of Sovereignty and a $25 Amazon GC (open USA & Canada) Ends Aug 13
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Title: Evolved
Author: Aubrey Coletti
Publisher: Escape Artist Press
Pages:
Genre: YA/Scifi/Thriller

Synopsis

The boarders of J. Alter High have fought their school, sabotaged their school, and attempted to destroy their school. Yet the powerful Academy and its enigmatic Headmistress have remained always one step ahead of them. Now they must decide whether or not to work with the school, to unlock the abilities that brought them there — a decision that could tear them all apart. But choose they must, before they are out of moves, out of options . . . and out of time.

About the Author

Aubrey Coletti is a twenty-three year old singer-songwriter, dancer, and author, who began her first novel while still in high school. Now graduated from Sarah Lawrence College, she has three published novels in The Academy Series, Altered, Shattered, and Evolved.

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The Visitor
By Brent Ayscough

Synopsis

Tasked by the Federation of Planets to determine if Earthlings present a threat as they venture into space, Tak, an alien anthropologist, leaves her starship orbiting Earth and takes a shuttle to Kansas. Intending to study humans in the United States—as she has learned no Earth language but English—she is detected while descending through the atmosphere and only evades capture by fleeing to Europe, where she lands in Poland. There, she meets an international arms merchant, Baron Von Limbach, who becomes her guide. She studies “typical” human behavior by accompanying the baron as he fulfills his latest assignment—to get the Dalai Lama back into Tibet. His method of halting the communist takeover of Tibet is to create a race-specific Ebola that will only attack Han Chinese, giving Tak a prime example of how barbaric humans can be. However, the CIA and US military are aware of Tak’s presence on Earth and are determined to capture her. And if she is unable to complete her mission and return to her starship—her captain will destroy every living thing on Earth.

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

The shuttle doors of the starship opened, and a dark gray, twenty-five-foot-long shuttle exited. Tak looked at the glowing stars and then studied the blue planet ahead as she began her descent. Numbers appeared on the shuttle screen, notifying her of relevant information affecting her intended descent. She choose to descend without power, just gliding, so as not to so as not to draw attention from the planet’s defense systems.

In the quiet of space, she pondered whether she’d made the right decision in choosing the language called English. But one language was enough to learn for this mission–or was it? Some of the languages picked up by the starship seemed so difficult to learn. Transmissions were intercepted from major airport towers all over the planet, and they all spoke English. The place called Russia launched more satellites than any other country, but she had been unable to intercept any transmissions from countries where Russian was spoken, except for a few less-developed adjacent countries. A large number of countries spoke Spanish, but there was no detectable space activity from them.

The place called America seemed to be the best choice, given its satellite activity and advanced technology. Its language was also found to be spoken in a number of other countries around the planet, called England, Australia, New Zealand, Singapore, and much of India. And English had been made so much more pleasurable to learn, as she could watch the intercepted movies. The most interesting ones came from America and were in English. So right or wrong, English had been her choice. And she would land in the middle of that country, in a place called Kansas. This was her first assignment alone and she was determined to do her very best.

As she descended through the atmosphere, the outside temperature began to rise. The blackness of space was being replaced below by bluish stratosphere. Descending by gliding so as to create as little heat signature as possible, the shuttle passed through one hundred sixty thousand feet, downward, soon to be pushed in an easterly direction over the surface of the planet by the natural direction of the prevailing winds. All things seemed to be in order.

BONG! A loud warning sounded, and then she heard, “Radar is being received from the surface.”

She focused intently on her monitor.

About the Author

Brent Ayscough or Ace, as he is known to friends, retired from the practice of law and lives in a house overlooking the sea in Southern California. He has always loved machines, from airplanes to motorcycles, structural design, and other interests. He has enjoyed the acquaintance of diverse and interesting people, and is widely traveled. Bits and pieces of characters he has known, places he has been, seasoned with the spice of his imagination, help him create unusual stories and characters. Extensive collaboration with experts and sources, hopefully, make his stories credible and interesting.

 

Synopsis

The highly effective team of genetically enhanced soldiers code-named Chaos Company has returned to the United States to be commended for their bravery. While on leave the team finds themselves at odds with the highly dangerous mercenary Liam King, who has been contracted to assassinate President Jennifer Grey. Chaos Company thwarts Liam’s attack, but at the cost of their team leader’s life.

With their leader killed the team looks to Corporal Desmond Striker to guide them in a hunt for Liam. During their hunt the team will find themselves in the cross-hairs of a private military company and have their abilities pushed to their limits. Before Chaos Company finally comes to blows with Liam they will discover that their greatest threat is a leader within their own country.

Excerpt

“Wake up mate!” the man said, slapping an unconscious man in the face.

The middle-aged man woke up moved around hysterically. He didn’t realize he was constrained to a metal chair. Ropes were tied to his feet and handcuffs bound his wrists, causing him to fall over on his side the moment he rocked in his seat.

“Agh! Dammit!” he ached. All he saw was a bright light shining in his face. Outside of that there was nothing but darkness. The echo from his voice and the cold damp floor helped the man realize he was in a closed empty space. It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust and discover he was inside the unfinished basement of his own home. He looked up at the man who had woken him but could not see his face. What he could see was the man about him wearing a military grade Kevlar vest and urban camouflage pants, attire that did not sit well with the restrained man.

The man standing over the captive stopped pacing back and forth for a moment, juggling the thought of smashing his boot into the frightened captive’s chest. After a long moment of silence he picked the captive up.

The prisoner shook vigorously, failing to keep his composure. “Do you know who I am?” the prisoner tried roaring in a threatening tone, but his voice faltered.

“Brian R. Fraser,” his capture said with an Australian accent. “Governor and native of Wisconsin. You got your MA in Political Science from UCLA before attending law School at North Carolina State. You’re married to Sarah Fraser, your high school sweetheart. You’re a fan of barbeques, hunting, and for some reason that’s…f*ing beyond me…ranting about international affairs you have no stake in.”

“Bravo.” Governor Fraser said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “You googled me. If I wasn’t tied up I’d applaud you for being competent with a laptop.”

“I also know you cheated on your bar exam.”

Keeping a cool head during a crisis was a trait the press had identified with Fraser. He took a breath, and swallowed the fear that occupied him. “So you paid off one of my friends. Am I supposed to be impressed?”

Fraser’s kidnapper stood in front of him and pulled out a needle filled with a greenish-yellow liquid. “How about this? You know what this is?”

“Some kind of dope you took to make you think going after me was a good idea?”

The Australian laughed while twirling the needle in hand. “I like that. Calm under pressure. But you see that’s how all men like you start.” He dangled the needle between his fingers. “It’s a heavy sedative. I borrowed it from your doctor. Well, you could say I traded him for it.”

“A trade?”

“Yeah. I took this and he took a bullet to the head. Seemed like a fair trade.” The Australian said while shrugging his shoulders.

About the Author

Christopher Slayton was born and raised in New Castle, Delaware. During Chris’ high school years he earned two All-Conference awards in lacrosse and three national awards in JROTC. Chris attended the University of Delaware, where he earned a B.A. in Psychology. While in college Chris was a UD ambassador, and wrote sketches for his school’s comedy show. Chris was a member of his school’s Tae Kwon Do team, where he earned multiple honors in nine tournaments. Chris has incorporated his passion for both martial arts and videogames into his writing, helping him finish his first ebook Chaos Company.

 

Synopsis

Lacy Dawn is a little girl who lives in a magical forest where all the trees love her and she has a space alien friend who adores her and wants to make her queen of the universe. What’s more, all the boys admire her for her beauty and brains. Mommy is very beautiful and Daddy is very smart, and Daddy’s boss loves them all.

Except.

Lacy Dawn, the eleven year old protagonist, perches precariously between the psychosis of childhood and the multiple neuroses of adolescence, buffeted by powerful gusts of budding sexuality and infused with a yearning to escape the grim and brutal life of a rural Appalachian existence. In this world, Daddy is a drunk with severe PTSD, and Mommy is an insecure wraith. The boss is a dodgy lecher, not above leering at the flat chest of an eleven-year-old girl.

Yes, all in one book.

Amazon * Doghorn Publishing * Impress Books (UK) * Lulu * Barnes & Noble * Mediander

 

Praise for Rarity from the Hollow

Rarity From The Hollow is written in a simple declarative style that’s well-suited to the imaginary diary of a desperate but intelligent eleven-year-old – the story bumping joyfully between the extraordinary and the banal.

The central planet of the universe is a vast shopping mall, and Lacy Dawn must save her world from a menace that arrives in the form of a cockroach infestation. Look again and the space alien has made Daddy smart and happy – or at least an eleven year old girl’s notion of what a smart and happy man should be. He has also made Mommy beautiful, giving her false teeth and getting the food stamp lady off her back.

About the only thing in the book that is believable is the nature of the narrative voice, and it is utterly compelling. You find yourself convinced that “Hollow” was written as a diary-based autobiography by a young girl and the banal stems from the limits of her environment, the extraordinary from her megalomania. And that’s what gives Rarity From The Hollow a chilling, engaging verisimilitude that deftly feeds on both the utter absurdity of the characters’ motivations and on the progression of the plot.

Indeed, there are moments of utter darkness: In one sequence, Lacy Dawn remarks matter-of-factly that a classmate was whipped to death, and notes that the assailant, the girl’s father, had to change his underpants afterward because they were soiled with semen. Odd, and often chilling notes, abound.

As I was reading it, I remembered when I first read Vonnegut’s “Cat’s Cradle” at the age of 14. A veteran of Swift, Heller, and Frederick Brown, I understood absurdist humour in satire, but Vonnegut took that understanding and turned it on its ear.

In the spirit of Vonnegut, Eggleton (a psychotherapist focused on the adolescent patient) takes the genre and gives it another quarter turn. A lot of people hated Vonnegut, saying he didn’t know the rules of good writing. But that wasn’t true. Vonnegut knew the rules quite well, he just chose to ignore them, and that is what is happening in Eggleton’s novel, as well.

Not everyone will like Rarity From The Hollow. Nonetheless, it should not be ignored.  – by Bryan Zepp Jamieson, The Electric Review

The most enjoyable science fiction novel I have read in several years

Rarity from the Hollow by Robert Eggleton is the most enjoyable science fiction novel I have read in several years. Who could think of an intergalactic handbook for entrepreneurs? Who could turn a tree-hugger into a paranormal event of death-defying significance? Who could create characters so believable, so funny, so astonishingly human (and not)?

Robert Eggleton, that’s who.

I put this book on my IPhone, and it followed me everywhere for several days. Strangers smiled politely at my unexpected laughter in the men’s room toilet stall. They looked away as I emerged, waving the IPhone at them as if it might explain something significant.

Oddly, the novel explains a great deal that has become significant in our society. Rarity from the Hollow is satire at its best and highest level. It is a psychological thriller, true to traits of mankind (and other species). It is an animal rights dissertation (you will laugh when you understand why I write that). It celebrates the vilest insect on earth (make that Universe).

The characters created by Robert Eggleton will bug your brain long after you smoke, uh, read the final page. Thanks for the laughs, the serious thoughts, the absolute wonder of your mind, Mr. Eggleton. A truly magnificent job.  – by Temple Emmet Williams, Author, Former Reader’s Digest Editor 

Excerpt

Cozy in Cardboard

Inside her first clubhouse, Lacy Dawn glanced over fifth grade spelling words for tomorrow’s quiz at school.  She already knew all the words in the textbook and most others in any human language.

Nothing’s more important than an education.

The clubhouse was a cardboard box in the front yard that her grandmother’s new refrigerator had occupied until an hour before.  Her father brought it home for her to play in.

The nicest thing he’s ever done.

Faith lay beside her with a hand over the words and split fingers to cheat as they were called off.  She lived in the next house up the hollow.  Every other Wednesday for the last two months, the supervised child psychologist came to their school, pulled her out of class, and evaluated suspected learning disabilities.  Lacy Dawn underlined a word with a fingernail.

All she needs is a little motivation. 

Before they had crawled in, Lacy Dawn tapped the upper corner of the box with a flashlight and proclaimed, “The place of all things possible — especially you passing the fifth grade so we’ll be together in the sixth.”

Please concentrate, Faith.  Try this one.

“Armadillo.”

“A, R, M, … A … D, I, L, D, O,” Faith demonstrated her intellect.

“That’s weak.  This is a bonus word so you’ll get extra points.  Come on.”

Lacy Dawn nodded and looked for a new word.

I’ll trick her by going out of order – a word she can’t turn into another punch line. 

“Don’t talk about it and the image will go away.  Let’s get back to studying,” Lacy Dawn said.

My mommy don’t like sex.  It’s just her job and she told me so.

Faith turned her open spelling book over, which saved its page, and rolled onto her side.  Lacy Dawn did the same and snuggled her back against the paper wall.  Face to face — a foot of smoothness between — they took a break.  The outside was outside.

At their parents’ insistence, each wore play clothing — unisex hand-me-downs that didn’t fit as well as school clothing.  They’d been careful not to get muddy before crawling into the box.  They’d not played in the creek and both were cleaner than the usual evening.  The clubhouse floor remained an open invitation to anybody who had the opportunity to consider relief from daily stressors.

“How’d you get so smart, Lacy Dawn?  Your parents are dumb asses just like mine.”

“You ain’t no dumb ass and you’re going to pass the fifth grade.”

“Big deal — I’m still fat and ugly,” Faith said.

“I’m doing the best I can.  I figure by the time I turn eleven I can fix that too.  For now, just concentrate on passing and don’t become special education.  I need you.  You’re my best friend.”

“Ain’t no other girls our age close in the hollow.  That’s the only reason you like me.  Watch out.  There’s a pincher bug crawling in.”

Lacy Dawn sat almost upright because there was not quite enough headroom in the refrigerator box.  She scooted the bug out the opening.  Faith watched the bug attempt re-entry, picked it up, and threw it a yard away into the grass.  It didn’t get hurt.  Lacy Dawn smiled her approval.  The new clubhouse was a sacred place where nothing was supposed to hurt.

“Daddy said I can use the tarp whenever he finishes the overhaul on the car in the driveway.  That way, our clubhouse will last a long time,” Lacy Dawn said.

“Chewy, chewy tootsie roll.  Everything in this hollow rots, especially the people. You know that.”

“We ain’t rotten,” Lacy Dawn gestured with open palms. “There are a lot of good things here — like all the beautiful flowers.  Just focus on your spelling and I’ll fix everything else.  This time I want a 100% and a good letter to your mommy.”

“She won’t read it,” Faith said.

“Yes she will.  She loves you and it’ll make her feel good.  Besides, she has to or the teacher will call Welfare.  Your daddy would be investigated — unless you do decide to become special education.  That’s how parents get out of it.  The kid lets them off the hook by deciding to become a SPED.  Then there ain’t nothing Welfare can do about it because the kid is the problem and not the parents.”

“I ain’t got no problems,” Faith said.

“Then pass this spelling test.”

“I thought if I messed up long enough, eventually somebody would help me out.  I just need a place to live where people don’t argue all the time.  That ain’t much.”

“Maybe you are a SPED.  There’s always an argument in a family.  Pass the test you retard,” Lacy Dawn opened her spelling book.

Faith flipped her book over too, rolled onto her stomach and looked at the spelling words.  Lacy Dawn handed her the flashlight because it was getting dark and grinned when Faith’s lips started moving as she memorized.  Faith noticed and clamped her lips shut between thumb and index finger.

This is boring.  I learned all these words last year.

“Don’t use up the batteries or Daddy will know I took it,” Lacy Dawn said.

“Alright — I’ll pass the quiz, but just ’cause you told me to.  This is a gamble and you’d better come through if it backfires.  Ain’t nothing wrong with being a SPED.  The work is easier and the teacher lets you do puzzles.”

“You’re my best friend,” Lacy Dawn closed the book.

They rolled back on their sides to enjoy the smoothness.  The cricket chorus echoed throughout the hollow and the frogs peeped.  An ant attempted entry but changed its direction before either rescued it.  Unnoticed, Lacy Dawn’s father threw the tarp over the box and slid in the trouble light.  It was still on and hot.  The bulb burned Lacy Dawn’s calf.

He didn’t mean to hurt me — the second nicest thing he’s ever done.

“Test?” Lacy Dawn announced with the better light, and called off, “Poverty.”

“I love you,” Faith responded.

“Me too, but spell the word.”

“P is for poor.  O is for oranges from the Salvation Army Christmas basket. V is for varicose veins that Mommy has from getting pregnant every year. E is for everybody messes up sometimes — sorry.  R is for I’m always right about everything except when you tell me I’m wrong — like now.  T is for it’s too late for me to pass no matter what we do and Y is for you know it too.”

“Faith, it’s almost dark!  Go home before your mommy worries,” Lacy Dawn’s mother yelled from the front porch and stepped back into the house to finish supper.  The engine of the VW in the driveway cranked but wouldn’t start.  It turned slower as its battery died, too.

Faith slid out of the box with her spelling book in-hand.  She farted from the effort.  A clean breeze away, she squished a mosquito that had landed on her elbow and watched Lacy Dawn hold her breath as she scooted out of the clubhouse, pinching her nose with fingers of one hand, holding the trouble light with the other, and pushing her spelling book forward with her knees.  The moon was almost full.  There would be plenty of light to watch Faith walk up the gravel road.  Outside the clubhouse, they stood face to face and ready to hug.  It lasted a lightning bug statement until adult intrusion.

“Give it back.  This thing won’t start,” Lacy Dawn’s father grabbed the trouble light out of her hand and walked away.

“All we ever have is beans for supper.  Sorry about the fart.”

“Don’t complain. Complaining is like sitting in a rocking chair.  You can get lots of motion but you ain’t going anywhere,” Lacy Dawn said.

“Why didn’t you tell me that last year?”  Faith asked.  “I’ve wasted a lot of time.”

“I just now figured it out.  Sorry.”

“Some savior you are.  I put my whole life in your hands.   I’ll pass tomorrow’s spelling quiz and everything.  But you, my best friend who’s supposed to fix the world just now tell me that complaining won’t work and will probably get me switched.”

“You’re complaining again.”

“Oh yeah,” Faith said.

“Before you go home, I need to tell you something.”

To avoid Lacy Dawn’s father working in the driveway, Faith slid down the bank to the dirt road.  Her butt became too muddy to reenter the clubhouse regardless of need.  Lacy Dawn stayed in the yard, pulled the tarp taut over the cardboard, and waited for Faith to respond.

“I don’t need no more encouragement.  I’ll pass the spelling quiz tomorrow just for you, but I may miss armadillo for fun.  Our teacher deserves it,” Faith said.

“That joke’s too childish.  She won’t laugh.  Besides, dildos are serious business since she ain’t got no husband no more.  Make 100%.  That’s what I want.”

“Okay.  See you tomorrow.”  Faith took a step up the road.

“Wait.  I want to tell you something.  I’ve got another best friend.  That’s how I got so smart.  He teaches me stuff.”

“A boy?  You’ve got a boyfriend?”

“Not exactly,”

Lacy Dawn put a finger over her lips to silence Faith.  Her father was hooking up a battery charger.  She slid down the bank, too.

He probably couldn’t hear us, but why take the chance.

A minute later, hand in hand, they walked the road toward Faith’s house.

“Did you let him see your panties?” Faith asked.

“No.  I ain’t got no good pair.  Besides, he don’t like me that way.  He’s like a friend who’s a teacher — not a boyfriend.  I just wanted you to know that I get extra help learning stuff.”

“Where’s he live?”

Lacy Dawn pointed to the sky with her free hand.

“Jesus is everybody’s friend,” Faith said.

“It ain’t Jesus, you moron,” Lacy Dawn turned around to walk home.  “His name’s DotCom and….”

Her mother watched from the middle of the road until both children were safe.

About the Author

Robert Eggleton has served as a children’s advocate for over forty years. He is best known for his investigative reports about children’s programs, most of which were published by the West Virginia Supreme Court where he worked from 1982 through 1997. Today, he is a recently retired psychotherapist from the mental health center in Charleston, West Virginia. Rarity from the Hollow is his debut novel and its release followed publication of three short Lacy Dawn Adventures in magazines: Wingspan Quarterly, Beyond Centauri, and Atomjack Science Fiction. Author proceeds have been donated to a child abuse prevention program operated by Children’s Home Society of West Virginia.

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Title: Genius De Milo
Author: Russ Colchamiro
Publisher: Crazy 8 Press
Pages: 320
Genre: SciFi/Comedy
Format: Paperback/Kindle

Best pals Jason Medley and Theo Barnes barely survived a backpacking trip through Europe and New Zealand that — thanks to a jar of Cosmic Building Material they found — almost wiped out the galaxy. But just as they envision a future without any more cosmic lunacy:

The Earth has started fluxing in and out of existence, Theo’s twin girls are teleporting, and Jason can’t tell which version of his life is real.

All because of Milo, the Universe’s ultimate gremlin.

Joined by the mysterious Jamie — a down-and-out hotel clerk from Eternity — Jason and Theo reunite on a frantic, cross-country chase across America, praying they can retrieve that jar, circumvent Milo, and save the Earth from irrevocable disaster.

In author Russ Colchamiro’s uproarious sequel to Finders Keepers, he finally confirms what we’ve long suspected — that there’s no galactic Milo quite like a Genius de Milo.

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Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club on Goodreads.

Excerpt

Jason’s smile dropped away, replaced with a silent, open-mouthed slug of resignation, that whatever was happening was authentic, and unfolding in real time.

In a shared-brain moment Jason and Theo slowly panned in Jamie’s direction until finally she felt their accusatorial eyes lock on her. And though neither of them spoke, the imputation of blame came through with perfect enunciation: What did you do? What’s coming?

But what could she say? Which cluster of words could encapsulate both the scope and nuance of their predicament? Jamie could offer a pretty good guess as to why their immediate surroundings morphed before their very eyes—it had to be Brigsby-related, didn’t it?—but when it came to the what, she was equally mystified.

So all she could do was stand there. She blinked a few times. Then a few times more. The night went bracingly still, as if every fractal of sound had been drained from the Universe. The three of them held in place, petrified, as if the incredible forces converging upon them were seemingly just to be unleashed. Which, of course, they were.

About the Author

Russ Colchamiro is the author of the rollicking space adventure Crossline, the hilarious scifi backpacking comedy Finders Keepers, and the outrageous sequel, Genius de Milo, all with Crazy 8 Press.

Russ lives in West Orange, NJ, with his wife, two children, and crazy dog, Simon, who may in fact be an alien himself. Russ is now at work on the final book in the Finders Keepers trilogy.

As a matter of full disclosure, readers should not be surprised if Russ spontaneously teleports in a blast of white light followed by screaming fluorescent color and the feeling of being sucked through a tornado. It’s just how he gets around — windier than the bus, for sure, but much quicker.

His latest book is the science fiction novel, Genius De Milo.

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Title: The Ark
Author: Laura Liddell Nolen
Publisher: HarperCollins
Pages: 239
Genre: YA Scifi
Format: Paperback/Kindle/Nook

There’s a meteor headed for Earth, and there is only one way to survive.

It’s the final days of earth, and sixteen-year-old Char is right where she belongs: in prison. With her criminal record, she doesn’t qualify for a place on an Ark, one of the five massive bioships designed to protect earth’s survivors during the meteor strike that looks set to destroy the planet. Only a select few will be saved – like her mom, dad, and brother – all of whom have long since turned their backs on Char.

If she ever wants to redeem herself, Char must use all the tricks of the trade to swindle her way into outer space, where she hopes to reunite with her family, regardless of whether they actually ever want to see her again, or not . . .

Read Chapter One here

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Excerpt

On the last day of Earth, I couldn’t find my hairbrush. That probably seems like a silly thing to worry about, what with the imminent destruction of, well, everything, but my mom was always after me about my usual ratty ponytail. Normally, I’d ignore her. Or, if I were having a really bad day, I’d tell her what she could do with her hairbrush. But like I said, it was the last day of Earth. And I figured, since it was the last time she’d ever see me, I wanted it to go smoothly. I wanted her to remember me, if not fondly, then at least without anger.

A girl can dream.

I slipped out of my cell as soon as the door swung open. I’d done the same every day for the past month, and my family had yet to show up. Their OPT—Off-Planet Transport—took off in eighteen hours, so they still had time. Barely. I couldn’t blame them if they didn’t come. It wasn’t hard to imagine that they’d rather escape to the stars without so much as a backward glance at me, their big disappointment. Even my father’s influence couldn’t persuade the government to give me a spot on an OPT.

Turns out, when humankind is deciding which of its children to save, the last place it looks is in prison.

But I was pretty sure they’d come. West had said as much in his last transmission. The thought of my younger brother actually halted me mid-step, like one of those punches in the gut where you can’t breathe for a few seconds.

“Looking for something?” The lazy drawl floated out of the nearest cell.

Against my better instincts, I turned to see Cassa lying on her bunk, her arm draped across Kip. My Kip. Or at least, my ex-Kip. Whatever. In twenty-two hours, I wouldn’t have to think about him anymore.

See? Silver lining. And they called me a perpetual pessimist at my last psych workup.

They barely fit next to each other on the flimsy mattress, but that wasn’t the weird part. The guys’ ward was separated by a substantial metal wall. We were kept apart during evening hours, for obvious reasons. Not that anyone cared anymore. The med staff had been the first to go, followed by the cleaning crew, followed by the kitchen crew. To show you where girls like me fell on the government’s list of priorities, there was still a skeleton crew of guards lurking around, despite the fact that I hadn’t had a real meal for going on a week. The guards would be gone soon, too, and then there’d be no one in here but us chickens.

I figured either Kip had a key, or the guards had left already. A key could be useful. My curiosity got the best of me. “How’d he get in here before the first bell?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I got some tricks you ain’t seen, babe. Why don’t you join us? End of the world and all.”

The guards were gone, then. I felt a small trill of anxiety deep in my chest. If the guards were gone, my family was even less likely to show. But it was never smart to show fear. “The Pinball could be headed straight for this building, and I still wouldn’t be desperate enough to touch you. Oh, wait. Guess you don’t have to take my word for it.”

I turned to leave, but he continued. “Now is that any way to treat your dear ole partners? Be nice or I won’t give you back your stuff.”

“Ugh, you were in my room?” I flexed my shoulder blades, making sure my gun was still tightly secured between them.

“Don’t worry, Char. I didn’t handle the merchandise. Didn’t want to wake you up. Just lifted me a few keepsakes.” He pronounced my name the way I like: Char, as in charred. Something that got burned.

I wasn’t sure what Kip and Cassa were planning, but I knew I wouldn’t like it. They were thieves and liars. I would know. I used to be one of them. That was before the last job, when Cassa had attacked an elderly man in the home we were robbing. She’d kicked him until he stopped fighting back. Kip had called her off after a few licks, but I just stood there, staring. The old man looked at me, like right at me, while we made our getaway, and my stomach twisted into a knot so tight that I tasted bile. That was the moment I knew I wanted out.

But by then, no one believed me. Or, if they did, no one cared. Except for Kip and Cassa, of course. They’d taken the news pretty hard, to put it lightly.

If I lunged for the box, I could probably grab my hairbrush and get out of there. I wouldn’t have time for more than that. Then again, I’d be doing exactly what they expected, and I didn’t have time for delays. My family could be in the commissary any second now.

“Ahem. Seeing as it’s your last day of life, I might let you have one thing back,” said Kip.

“In exchange for what?”

“I’m hurt. All our time together, and you still don’t believe in my inherent generosity. But now that you mention it, I’ve got a hankering for some peanut butter crackers.”

“Sorry, Kip. I’m fresh out of food. Kinda like everyone else.”

“Nice try, Charrr.” He drew my name out, as though tasting it. “I saw them yesterday. Figured you were hiding them under your pillow when I couldn’t find them last night.”

“You figured wrong.”

All I could think about was my brother’s face. And how I had this one last chance to apologize to my parents, for everything. I shrugged and turned to leave.

About the Author

Laura Liddell Nolen grew up in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, where she spent lots of time playing make-believe with her two younger brothers. They supplemented their own stories with a steady diet of space- and superhero-themed movies, books, and television. The daughter of a comic book collector, she learned how to handle old comics at an early age, a skill she’s inordinately proud of to this day.

Laura began work on her first novel, The Ark, in 2012, following the birth of her daughter Ava, a tiny rebel and a sweetheart on whom the novel’s main character is loosely based. Completion of The Ark was made possible in part due to an SCBWI Work-in-Progress Award.

Laura loves coffee, dogs, and making lists. She has a degree in French and a license to practice law, but both are frozen in carbonite at present. She lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and two young children, and their dog Miley, who is a very good girl.

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