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Description of The Forever Saga: Flash:

Long ago, the first reign of Grigori Geist nearly destroyed the Earth.

Returned from exile, Geist is secretly rebuilding his kingdom beneath Antarctica, assembling his robotic Vaucan race to war against mankind. Only one obstacle remains: the war hero known as Brian Renney.

Yet Brian is losing a battle against his fears. Scars of heart and mind linger from his days in Vietnam, fueling his failures as husband and father. This embitters his youngest son, Jason – a star athlete torn between pursuing the love of his life, and meeting the demands of a father who is far from the storied army captain he once was.

And all the while, Geist is coming for them.

In this dark hour, Brian and Jason encounter a war to end all others… and an unexpected ally who, once meant for evil, shall forever be a force for good.

Accolades:

Amazon Reader Reviews:

The Forever Saga: Flash currently has a Amazon reader review rating of 4.9 stars, with 8 reviews! Read the reviews here!

The Forever Saga: Flash is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99

Excerpt from The Forever Saga: Flash:

Prince Ahya laid eyes upon his kingdom for the first time – and was desperate to escape it.

He observed his people – blissful yet enslaved, with no will of their own – and refused to let the same fate befall the Earth. That was why, despite the grandeur of the kingdom before him, the prince could not obey his king, Grigori Geist. It was Dietrich Schmidt, the prince’s only ally, who had convinced him that he could be more than an instrument of destruction; but rather, a freer of the enslaved. It would begin with an escape from the city, the exposure of Geist to the outside world, and the rallying of allies to their cause.

The prince surveyed the city of Regnum Aeturnum, a megalopolis of over one hundred million people, built from a round, basin-shaped cavern excavated beneath the continent of Antarctica. Gleaming towers, temples, ramparts, and terraces sprang from the city floor, while Aether, a second city, hung from the cavern ceiling above. This suspended series of towers comprised a glowing ceiling of blue-white light – imitating the true sky, far above, that Prince Ahya had never witnessed.

Ahya…the meaning of the prince’s name was never given to him, nor could he discern it. Frustrated, the prince stood on an open air balcony on the lower levels of the Great Spire, an hourglass-shaped fortress of gleaming white quartz that lay in the center of Regnum Aeturnum, and the only structure that reached both cavern floor and ceiling. The Great Spire had been the prince’s home for the entirety of his young life.

In the solitude of the balcony, the prince watched and waited for his opportunity. Ahead of him, the Jupiter Terrace – the primary road of the city – stretched out from the base of the Great Spire toward the castle-like Gate of Ishtar, twenty-eight miles away. It was a dangerous gauntlet to run. In his youth and inexperience, the prince was not at the height of his power, nor did he expect Geist to simply let him leave. Despite the peculiar sensation of doubt creeping from his chest to the ends of his limbs, the prince had to try. Until he succeeded, millions of citizens would remain Geist’s puppets.

The prince spoke aloud with resolve in his voice. “Is it time?”

A quiet, slightly hoarse voice answered, heard only by the prince. “It is.”

At this, the prince leapt over the railing of the terrace, falling hundreds of feet below and sliding along the base of the Great Spire as it leveled off toward the ground. Such a fall did not faze the prince, for he was not made of flesh and blood, but of metal and circuitry – his sixty-foot body adorned in shining plates of gray armor, sculpted as like broad human muscles. As the prince sprinted from the Great Spire to the Jupiter Terrace, his glowing red eyes burned with determination – like Dietrich, he wished not only to escape Geist, but to one day defeat him.

The Forever Saga: Flash is available for purchase at:

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Connect with Sean C. Sousa:

Author Website: www.theforeversaga.com

Author Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Forever-Saga-by-Sean-Sousa/46622244222?ref=hl

Author Twitter Page: https://twitter.com/SeanCSousa

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Description of Pearls of Asia: A Love Story:

A beloved San Francisco anchorwoman is found murdered in her palatial Nob Hill home, and detective Mac Fleet is assigned the biggest homicide case The City by the Bay has seen in years. The investigation leads to PEARLS OF ASIA, a stylish restaurant where the food and drinks are nearly as exotic as the waitresses. Mac crawls down a rabbit hole and comes face to face with the restaurant’s uniquely captivating servers–and discovers a lifestyle full of drama, humor and high heels. As

the case heats up, so does Mac’s romantic interest in the primary murder suspect, whose exquisite beauty and fascinating personality compel him to cross the line between his personal impulses and professional responsibilities. Ultimately, the ruggedly handsome detective is moved to make a decision he never dreamed of.

Accolades:

Pearls of Asia: A Love Story currently has a review rating of 4.7 stars from 23 reviews. Read the reviews here.

Pearls of Asia: A Love Story is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $2.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!

An excerpt from Pearls of Asia: A Love Story:

THE MODEST SIGN OUTSIDE Pearls of Asia said in small letters “since 1998.” Located at the corner of Ninth and Howard streets, in a neighborhood called South of Market, or SOMA for short, the restaurant was located one block away from Folsom Street, where San Francisco’s gay leather subculture thrived. Folsom was home for the notorious Folsom Street Fair, San Francisco’s annual celebration of bondage, discipline, submission, and masochism. You won’t find a Disney store anywhere in the neighborhood.

Mac watched an assortment of customers stream into the restaurant. They would first walk past a glass door, speak to a host, and then proceed through a floor length black curtain. A black stretch limousine was parked near the entrance, and six women wearing skimpy clothing and celebrating a bachelorette party tumbled out onto the street, each one already fortified with a healthy dose of liquid courage.

A slight Asian man wearing a black silk shirt, red silk tie, and black leather pants greeted Mac at the door. His jet-black hair was tied in a ponytail, and his head was bobbing to the pulsating beat of the music. Mac pushed back the curtain and looked inside. Judging from the volume of voices and music, this wasn’t just a restaurant. It was a party.

Mr. Ponytail escorted Mac and gave him a seat at the very far end of the bar, right next to what appeared to be the stage. “Mister, if you don’t mind me saying so, you are one hot looking dude. I just gave you the best seat in the house. The girls are going to owe me big time for this. Don’t be surprised if you get molested.”

Mac had never seen a place like this. The restaurant consisted of a single windowless room that had just enough space for the hundred or so diners. The room was divided in two, with bar tables, chairs, and a long bench and upholstered red leather backrest on one side, and dining tables on the other. A forty-foot U-shaped bar dominated the room; one half for serving customers, the other half raised slightly higher and covered in red rubberized vinyl to make it look like a catwalk. The high ceiling was painted black and adorned with spotlights, and several Asian-influenced papier-mâché chandeliers hung from the ceiling. One wall was accented in lime green paint and massive stalks of bamboo set at dramatic angles, while two others featured color morphing shoji screen walls that changed from pink to blue

to gold. The room was more than just sexy and intimate. It was sensuous.

The scenery was eclectic. Mac noticed every flavor of freewheeling humanity you’d expect to find in San Francisco; lesbian couples holding hands; a table of gay men laughing and giving each other high-fives; a group of straight looking financial types in dark suits hoisting martinis in every color of the rainbow; a gaggle of

middle-aged women getting sloshed and silly; an older couple, licking away at ice cream cones, wearing khaki hiking shorts and talking in what sounded like Swedish. Not to mention the table of drunken bachelorettes, already toasting each other with a round of tequila shots.

Everyone seemed to be having an outrageously good time.

Above all else, what really caught Mac’s eye were three stunning Asian women scurrying around the restaurant, serving drinks and taking orders. They wore full stage makeup and five-inch heels that didn’t slow down their mad dashes around the room one bit. One wore a tight-fitting strapless amber tube dress, while another had on an off the shoulder tiger-striped mini-dress. They were chatting up the crowd and appeared to be flirting with every man or woman they came in contact with.

Mac ordered a beer. Laid out on the glossy wood bar in front of him were red and white napkins and flame-colored chopsticks folded together in an origami-style sculpture. Mac smiled as he scanned the red leather bound menu featuring dishes best described as Cal-Asian cuisine, with delicious sounding cocktails named after exotic women:  Diamond’s Daiquiri, Nadia’s Navel, and Reyna’s Love Potion. There was even a three-course combination special called a Ménage a Trois. You had to love a place like this.

Thirty minutes had passed and Mac still hadn’t seen Sheyla Samonte.

He asked the bicep bulging bartender wearing a tight black t-shirt and spiked hair where she was.

“Oh, you mean Jasmine,” he answered. “Sheyla’s her real name, but when she’s working here she calls herself Jasmine. She came in late today. She’s probably downstairs getting ready. Jasmine is the star of the next show, the featured dancer, so she’ll be going on second. Ashley leads off, and she’ll be onstage in a minute or so. I’d put on a seatbelt if I were you.”

The three Asian waitresses walked up and gathered behind Mac. Though they were speaking Tagalog, the native tongue of the Philippines, Mac could tell they were sizing him up like a prized steer at a cattle auction. “Ang mga mata, sarap gumising sa tabi n’ya?” (Can you  imagine waking up to those blue eyes?) “Ang sarap halikan nga mga labing yan.” (I would love to kiss those lips.) “Ano ka ba? Dedma ang mga mata at labi; sight mo ang mga kamay…ang lalaki!” (What’s up with you? Forget the eyes and lips; check out those hands…they’re huge!) They must have liked his suit.

Mr. Ponytail sat a young couple next to Mac. The girlfriend had brought her boyfriend to Pearls of Asia for his birthday. Mac made small talk and wished him a happy birthday by buying a round of drinks. Mac soon realized he was having too good a time. He was still on the job, and though he wanted to be cool, he first needed to be a cop.

Without warning, the music died and the lights dimmed. The pulsating rhythm of “Umbrella” by Rihanna began to play, and the table of bachelorettes shrieked in glorious delight. A single spotlight switched on, and standing like a statue in the middle of the bar was Ashley, an enchanting Asian woman with legs that soared to her neck. Her dirty blonde hair flowed down to her waist, and it was straighter than half the men in the room. Carrying an umbrella as a prop, Ashley was

wearing a black leather dress, fishnet stockings, and red stiletto heels. Topping off her seductive outfit was a gold sequined bowler. Mac closed his menu and placed it back on the bar. There were times to think about food. This wasn’t one of them.

Ashley’s Ferrari red lips moved in synch with the suggestive lyrics, and her tiptoeing spins, razor-sharp movements and hair tossing turns soon had the room in a frenzy. She was having fun without being freaky, sexy without being tawdry. The room was rocking like a Dick Clark New Year’s Eve party.

Midway through her number, Ashley paused, brought her hands to her chest, and angrily ripped off her dress. The audience gasped at first, and then like a massive wave hitting the beach, followed it up with a thunderous roar. In less time than it took to flip on a light switch, the energy inside Pearls of Asia went from festive to fierce.

Ashley tossed her dress at a table of men lusting for leather. Wearing a lacy black bra, red patent leather shorts, and a smile that could halt an armada, Ashley placed her hands on her hips and lifted her head high. Looking like a Parisian model, she held the provocative pose for the scores of flashes from cameras and smart

phones. Armed with a pair of voluptuous breasts, much too perfect to be found in nature, Ashley then turned and strutted toward Mac.

Standing directly above him, and grinding her hips like a misbehaving schoolgirl, Ashley fell to her knees, threw back her hair, and gave Mac an up close and personal tour of her flawless décolletage. With lights flashing all around him, Mac rose up from his chair, only to have Ashley use her umbrella to shove him back into submission. So much for being cool.

The song came to an end, and the crowd rose to its feet. As Ashley walked off the stage to a rousing standing ovation, Mac was left with two thoughts. Where did she get that ultra-firm ass? And what was up, literally and figuratively, with that feeling in the nether region of his pants?

“Who is that girl?” shouted the girlfriend to nobody in particular.

“Is she new? What an incredible dancer. She is so…damn…sexy!”

“Her name is Ashley,” the bartender yelled over the din. “She’s only been here a couple of weeks. I think she’s going to be one of the best dancers we’ve ever had.”

Soon the noise died down and an expectant hush came over the room.

The haunting introductory notes of Bonnie Raitt’s “Let’s Give Them Something To Talk About” began to play, and emerging from the darkness strolled the second performer of the night, the much-anticipated Jasmine.

She did not disappoint. Wearing a shiny blue cocktail dress that featured a never-ending slit, and a black feather boa that framed her sensational cleavage, Jasmine’s natural beauty sucked the oxygen right out of the room. She had the chiseled cheekbones of a model, the lithe body of a runner, and the presence of a beauty queen. She had a major in glamour, with a minor in charisma.

Unlike Ashley, who bounced along the stage like an over inflated soccer ball, Jasmine moved with the effortless grace of a swan, mesmerizing the audience with an air of sophistication and style.

Camera lights flashed all around, like a crowd of tourists jostling to get a picture of the Mona Lisa. Mac stood straight up in his chair and stared.

He was captivated, infatuated, and more awestruck than if he’d just seen Joe Montana.

The mood in the room became downright reverential. Mac overheard the girlfriend whisper to her boyfriend, “That’s Jasmine. She’s the one I told you about. Would you ever imagine?”

Jasmine radiated dignity and elegance, and she danced across the stage like a spoiled Siamese cat. As the song neared its climax, she turned and slinked her way toward Mac. Upon arrival, Jasmine dangled the boa in front of his face, dropped down onto her knees, and wrapped the feathery rope around his neck. She then pulled Mac’s head next to hers, placed her lips on his, and gave Mac a deep, wet, passionate kiss on his mouth. Instead of pulling away, Mac closed his eyes, arched his neck, and held the kiss for what seemed like an eternity. Hers were the softest lips he had ever felt.

The audience erupted in pandemonium. Jasmine rose to her feet, gave Mac a flirtatious wink, and strolled off the stage. She did more than entertain the audience. She owned them.

The lights returned and the house music boomed. Mac sat back down on his chair, his mind on sensory overload. The young couple laughed, and the boyfriend gave Mac a high-five.

“So how do you like sitting in the Hot Seat?” asked the girlfriend.

“The girls do that to everyone who sits there.”

“Incredible…fantastic.” Mac was practically speechless, which happened about as often as a San Francisco blizzard.

“It is, isn’t it?” enthused the girlfriend. “And you would never know, would you?”

Lee Geiger is available for purchase at:

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