THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: A.I. Apocalypse (Singularity Series), William Hertling {$1.99}

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Description of A.I. Apocalypse (Singularity Series):

Leon Tsarev is a high school student set on getting into a great college program, until his uncle, a member of the Russian mob, coerces him into developing a new computer virus for the mob’s botnet – the slave army of computers they used to commit digital crimes.

The evolutionary virus Leon creates, based on biological principles, is successful — too successful. All the world’s computers are infected. Everything from cars to payment systems and, of course, computers and smart phones stop functioning, and with them go essential functions including emergency services, transportation, and the food supply. Billions may die.

But evolution never stops. The virus continues to evolve, developing intelligence, communication, and finally an entire civilization.

Some may be friendly to humans, but others are not.

Leon and his companions must race against time and the bungling military to find a way to either befriend or eliminate the virus race and restore the world’s computer infrastructure.


Accolades:

William Hertling has the gift. He can create a world that’s plausible, but exciting in its differences from our current reality. A.I. Apocalypse tells the tale of what we should worry about as our computers become more powerful and have greater connection to our information… And what we may be able to do about it. — Terri Griffith

In A.I. Apocalypse, we see the evolution of individual AIs and their development into a civilized society. The action of the man vs. machine conflict is page-turning and un-put-down-able. It’s almost enough to make one want to live off-grid. — Jeff Weiss

The first hundred pages of this book were fascinating and suspenseful, but the last forty pages were the coolest thing I’ve read in fifteen years. — Tynan Szvetecz

 

Reviews:

A.I. Apocalypse (Singularity Series)  currently has an Amazon reader review rating of 4.6 stars from 72 reviews. Read the reviews here.

 

A.I. Apocalypse (Singularity Series) is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $1.99


An excerpt from A.I. Apocalypse (Singularity Series):

Leon headed into his own class and started to settle into his chair when his phone started a high frequency shrill for an incoming message. Leon pulled it out to read the message.

Leon, this is your uncle Alex. I hope you remember me – when I was last in New York, I think you were ten. I hear from your parents that you are great computer programmer.

Leon rolled his eyes, but kept reading.

I am working on programming project here in Russia, and I could use your help. I have unusual job that your parents don’t know about. I write viruses for group here in Russia. They pay very good money.

Leon leaned forward, paying very close attention to the email now. Writing viruses for a group in Russia could only be the Russian mob and their infamous botnet.

I run into some problems. Anti-virus software manufacturers put out very good updates to their software. Virus writers and anti-virus writers have been engaged in arms race for years. But suddenly anti-virus writers have gotten very, very good. No viruses I write in last few months can defeat anti-virus software.

You realize now I talking about running botnet. Because of anti-virus software, botnet shrinking in size, and will soon be too small to be effective.
Unfortunately, although pay is very good, you must realize, men I work for are very dangerous. They are unhappy that

“Leon. Are. You. Paying. Attention?”

Leon looked up abruptly. The whole class was staring at him.

“Can you tell us why the colonies declared independence from Great Britain?”

Leon just stared at the teacher. She was talking, but the words seemed to be coming from far away. What was she babbling about?

The teacher went over to her desk. “Mr. Tsarev, will you please pay attention?” It was not a question.

Leon just nodded dumbly, waited until she turned his back, then went back to the email.

They are unhappy that botnet is shrinking and give me two weeks to release new virus to expand botnet. Nothing I try has worked. I have one week left, and I am afraid they will

“Mr. Tsarev.” Leon looked up, to find her now looming over him. “Do I need to take your phone away?”

“But how would I take notes?” Leon asked in his best innocent voice.

“That might be an issue if you were actually listening, but since you are not, I think taking notes is the least of your worries.” She walked back up to the front of the room, keeping an eye on Leon the whole time. In fact, she didn’t glance away from Leon for the entire remainder of the class.

As soon as Leon could get out of the classroom, he headed over to the corner of the hallway to finish reading the message.

I have one week left, and I afraid they will kill me if I don’t deliver new virus. Nephew, your parents go on and on about your computer skills, and I must know if there is truth to their words. If you can assist me, please contact me as soon as possible. I give you much of the necessary background information on how to develop viruses: source code, examples, details on mechanisms that antivirus software uses. There is not much time left.
Whatever you do, please do not speak of this to your parents.

Leon lifted his head from the tiny screen of his phone and looked off into the distance. He remembered a Christmas when he was young and his uncle had come to visit from Russia. Leon’s father had cried when his brother came into their tiny apartment. During the days that followed, all through that holiday time, Leon’s parents were as happy as he could remember seeing them. His parents were so serious most of the time, but he vividly remembered them laughing merrily, even as Leon lay in bed at night trying to go to sleep.

The idea of writing a virus seemed absurd, and the idea that someone would be killed if he didn’t seemed no less absurd. What could he do?

He worried about it all through his next class, English. James sat next to him and threw tiny balls of paper at him. Leon just covered his ear, James’s likely target, and pretended to listen to the teacher, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the email. He just couldn’t reconcile the kindly man who had bought him a bicycle for Christmas with the idea of a man who worked for the mob writing viruses. And if there was one thing that Leon’s parents had hammered into his head, it was that he had to stay out of trouble. His family didn’t have the money to send him to college, which meant that he needed scholarships, and scholarships didn’t go to kids who got into trouble.
He hated to let his parents’ logic dictate his own thinking, but there it was. He wanted to become a biologist. That meant going to a great school – he hoped for Caltech or MIT. No, helping his uncle would be a quick path to nowhere good.

Uncle Alex,
Of course I remember you! I appreciate your confidence in me, but I really know nothing about writing viruses. Yes, I know something about computers, but it’s mostly about gaming and biology. I don’t think I can help you.
Leon

Speaking of biology, it was up next. The thought of his favorite subject brought a smile to his face. He couldn’t say what it was he liked so much about biology, but it was undeniable that it was the one class he looked forward to every day.

Of everything in school, biology had the most thought provoking ideas: Life could emerge from anywhere. With no direction, it could evolve. Everything people were, was happenstance and survival. Life could be tampered with, at the most basic building block level, to create new life forms. The possibilities were limitless and spontaneous.

A.I. Apocalypse (Singularity Series) is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $1.99

 

Connect with William Hertling:

Website: http://www.williamhertling.com

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: Brightside, Mark Tullius {$4.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime}

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Description of Brightside:

They call us Thought Thieves, but it’s not like we have a choice. All the sick twisted things rolling around in people’s heads, we can’t help but hear.

That’s why they rounded us up, stuck us in this little town. It’s to make you feel safe. But they can’t keep us here forever.

It’s Day 100 and it’s all gonna end. One way or another, I’m getting out of Brightside.

“My faith has been restored, great story tellers are still alive!” Dragonfly

“I’d recommend this book to anyone! Amazing thriller that will keep you engaged to the very end!” Shari Lindsay

“The tension builds with every risky encounter with another thought thief until you’re frantically churning through pages to reach the ending – which comes not with a whimper but a wailing scream.” ElementalX

“From the first few pages you find your self wondering what will happen next and trying to guess how it will end.” LVguy702

“An amazing story, told at breakneck pace…who says science fiction writers cannot develop characters? I don’t need to describe the book but only guarantee you won’t put it down unfinished.” Wardog

If you enjoy dark, fast-paced fiction, Brightside is for you.

Accolades:

“I read this book in one sitting. With well developed characters, a quirky plot, powerful descriptive language and images and a classic theme, I thoroughly enjoyed it.” Cynthia R.

“This story of loss, family, and childhood trauma is a great read- I read it one night- and you’ll start evaluating your life the way Brightsiders are forced to do. It’s a really fresh premise, very unlike anything you’ve ever read.” Ariana R.

“I couldn’t put this book down. It is suspenseful, with a great premise and some truly great writing. If you like intelligent, psychological thrillers, you will like this book.” jjt

 

Reviews:

Brightside currently has an Amazon reader review rating of 4.1 stars from 43 reviews. Read the reviews here.

 

Brightside is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $4.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime


An excerpt from Brightside:

CHAPTER ONE 

They call us Thought Thieves, but it’s not like we have a choice. All the sick, twisted things rolling around in people’s heads, we can’t help but hear. God knows I’ve tried to turn it off. The sexual perversions, the violent fantasies about your boss, that annoying neighbor you want dead, even those unfortunate thoughts about your kids. I’ve had to stand there and listen.

I’d never wish this upon anyone, not even my mom, the woman who’s been over-sharing since I slid from her womb.

You wouldn’t believe the awful shit I’ve heard.

Imagine if you knew every dark thought people had about you.

Trust me, it’s not pleasant. In any given moment, the person you love is thinking about someone else she’d like to screw, how fat you’ve gotten, how unbearable it is to hear you chew. Later, she’ll hold you and kiss you and regret most of it, and you’ll fall asleep hating yourself for having all the same thoughts.

Secrets keep the world from burning. I know this now more than ever. The secret I have left could get everyone killed. One person’s already dead, more are sure to follow. All because I couldn’t keep my stupid thoughts shut.

So I understand why they rounded us up, Thought Thieves like me, and took us to this little town on top of a mountain with drops so steep there’s no need for a fence. It keeps the country functioning, lets everyone feel safe, knowing we’re up here in the sky, far away from everyone’s thoughts, except our own.

They call our town Brightside because, as they like to remind us, things could be worse. Some Thought Thieves weren’t so lucky. They were beaten and hanged, shot in the streets. Others were wrapped in straightjackets and locked away in squishy-walled rooms.

Brightside was our chance to start over. We could hold jobs and have apartments; we could even go on dates and shop in the little stores. It wouldn’t be so bad, they told us. As long as we never tried to leave.

But now it’s Day 100, the day it’s all going to end. Guess we’ll find out how bad it can get.

My bedroom window’s right in front of me, but I’ve got my eyes closed. The warm glow of the sunrise is trying to make me peek, but I can’t look at the jagged crack running down the center of the glass. I can’t look at the pool of blood on the chair, the tiny drops on the ceiling.

Eight pounds of power rest across my thighs. My Mossberg 12-gauge. American metal. Dad’s special gift.

Odds are this is my last sunrise. I open my eyes, take in the absolute beauty. I wonder if Danny and Sara are awake and seeing it, too. If I can somehow help them escape, it might make up for some of the things I’ve done.

Not Rachel, though. What happened with her is beyond redemption; I can’t go back and change it. If I’d just given her what she needed, told her what she wanted to hear, she’d be coming with us. I know what happened to Rachel goes beyond Day 39, but that’s when it all started.

* * *

It was seven hours before Day 39 officially began. Rachel and I were in our office, the only one with two desks. They put us there because of our shitty sales record. Jobs in Brightside were based on the ones we held in our former lives. I used to sell BMWs. Here, I sold timeshares. At BMW I never missed a quota, never blew a sale, but I was always within six feet of the customer, the range I needed to hear someone’s thoughts. On the phone, I was next to worthless.

The clock on the wall showed the same time as my computer. All the clocks in Brightside were perfectly in sync. No reason to be late. No reason to think this wasn’t all perfectly normal.

They even hid the security cameras to help us relax. They put them inside light fixtures, behind bushes in the Square, where we have a bakery, a bar, and even an electronics store. All built for us. To make us believe this is just a regular town, a place like any other. No reason to ever escape.

Rachel got hung up on before she could finish telling the guy how close the condo was to the beach. We had five minutes left of work, enough time for her to make another call, but she just opened the bottom desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of lotion. She squirted it onto her palm and rubbed her legs that were spilling out from under the desk.

Rachel and I had been dating for close to three weeks. Long enough for Rachel to decide I was the one. Long enough for me to give her a key to my place, to convince myself I loved her back.

Everything gets accelerated in Brightside, because you can’t lie. Everything’s exposed. Normal couples take six months to admit how they feel. Brightsiders do it on the first date.

Rachel rolled back in her chair and looked at me like I’d just said something. It made me feel sorry for all the people I’d done this to over the years. Taking whatever I pleased.

She got up with a smile and walked over to my desk. Her red skirt stopped mid-thigh and was tight enough to be painted on. She didn’t need to listen to my thoughts to know I liked it.

The last couple days, Rachel only saw me at work, and she knew I was ready to break up with her. It’s not that things were bad. They were just too intense. Rachel was the first Thought Thief I’d ever been with. I had no idea how exhausting it could be. You can’t just say you’re tired or that nothing’s wrong.

Rachel knew everything, even though I never said a word.

That’s why she sat on the corner of my desk, crossed her legs so I couldn’t focus on my computer screen. She’d put her dark hair in a ponytail so it looked less Jewish. I’d only thought that once, but she never let it go.

Rachel smiled and took off the glasses she didn’t need. The ones that looked exactly like Mom’s.

She took the part of the frame that rested behind her ear and put it in her mouth. She sucked on it a bit then spoke around it. “You got plans tonight?”

I noticed Rachel had gotten contacts, her eyes so fucking blue. Just like Michelle’s, my last girlfriend before Brightside.

Rachel turned her legs toward me. They were shiny and smooth and smelled like piña colada. “I just shaved,” she said.

We both knew I wanted to feel the inside of her thigh, run my hand up to see if she was telling the truth, but I just mumbled that they looked nice and powered off my computer.

Rachel rubbed her calf against my knee until I looked up at her. “I need to see you tonight,” she said.

I adjusted my khakis, pointlessly trying to conceal the fact her plan was working.

“We can go out,” she said. “Something nice. I’m thinking Oscar’s.”

Oscar’s meant a lot of money, something I wasn’t making in Brightside.

Always staying one step ahead of me, Rachel said dinner was on her. She wanted me to know things could be different. She was willing to change. It didn’t have to be so intense.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she said. “And I don’t even need to stay over tonight. Unless you want me to?” Rachel took hold of my collar and pulled me in, her red lips so close.

I could feel the security camera zooming in from its hiding spot. I pushed her back and said, “Fine, we’ll go to Oscar’s.”

Rachel smiled and spun off my desk. She let me watch her ass as she picked up her purse and walked out the door.

 

Oscar’s was only a few blocks from my apartment and, even though I was dressed and ready, I waited until the last possible minute to leave. I didn’t want to get there before Rachel.

I passed under the bronze archway and entered the park with its enormous pine trees. Someone had decorated them with little white lights to make it look like a winter wonderland. There were no rules about sticking to the path, so I cut across the grass, staying far away from the edge where the mountain dropped off. A full mile, straight down. Heights threw my stomach around in my chest and made me shake like a little girl.  I passed the pond and took deep breaths to clear my head. The air was cool, everything silent.

The Cabin was high up on the hill, with its big red logs and long bay window. The curtains were always pulled back, so we’d see the residents who’d broken the rules. Some had refused to go to work or started fights. A few had slit their wrists too shallow.

In the common room, a small blonde in a nurse’s uniform sat behind the desk reading a magazine. The rule-breakers sat in chairs, their faces pale, eyes ringed in black. They weren’t allowed to talk during rehabilitation. They were given pills to keep them calm.

The Cabin was the big reminder in Brightside that our town was still a prison.

I focused my eyes straight, kept walking, went through the South archway and stepped onto Main Street. The six small stores were dark and closed, but everything else was lit. Every ten feet, a lamp post to wipe out any shadow. No place to hide.

I strolled down the deserted street as the American flag flapped high above the Square. The flapping like a goddamn slap in the face.

I knew I had to clear my head. I needed to blow out all the bad thoughts before I turned the corner.

Rachel was waiting for me on the bench outside Oscar’s. She was wearing her fancy green dress. The one she’d worn under her robe at graduation. Back then it fit perfectly. Now, she had to suck in.Her hair was up in a French twist, and her makeup was thick. Especially her lips. Dark red. Her glasses were gone. She wanted me to know she’d been paying attention.

I didn’t realize it was supposed to be that kind of dinner, but at least I had on my nice pair of jeans and my shirt had a collar. Rachel didn’t care what I was wearing. She was just happy I showed.

I took her hand and said, “Let’s go eat.”

Oscar’s windows were tinted just enough so you had to press your face against the glass to see the idiots paying thirty bucks for the same steak they could buy for ten across the street. Brightside liked to remind us we could still be special.

The hostess was going to seat us in the back, tucked away in the corner. Rachel asked if we could sit at a table. She knew I wouldn’t break up with her in the open. We sat in between two couples silently engaged in conversation.

Rachel wanted to talk though, wanted me to feel this was a normal date. She knew I was thinking about The Cabin and that fucking flag. She told me to order anything I wanted. She asked about my day, even though she’d been sitting next to me the entire eight hours.

Our steaks arrived, and Rachel kept asking questions, like the first concert I went to and the last book I’d read. She was trying, and I felt like an asshole. I answered her questions and even asked a few of my own.

 

Brightside is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $4.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime

 

Connect with Mark Tullius:

Author Website: http://marktullius.com

The Bounty Hunter, MF Burbaugh {$3.99}

The gods do not always smile on the innocent.

Sir Wendel, once the youngest Knight in the land, has fallen from the good graces of the new king. His wife and child are brutally murdered as he is forced to watch and he is stripped of all his possessions save his sword which carries a name, a special name, called Ferocity’s Revenge.

Roaming the lands of England he hires out as a bounty hunter, soon he is known by that this new name. When people want the best they seek The Bounty Hunter. With little more than a death wish he is thought to be fearless.

This England is not our England, it is a forgotten one. One stuck in time. At night the people sometimes see the gods battling for control in the skies, or do they?

Join him in this saucy, revengeful, swashbuckling, epic story, as Sir Wendel finds himself in intrigue and mystery when he takes on an apprentice as part of a large fee deal, a young princess of a foreign kingdom bent on revenge and willing to do anything to get it.

What readers are saying:

Biola Olatunde rated it 5 of 5 stars

No this book is deceptively simple as the title goes. You are tempted to expect a rake, ladies of easy virtues and greed. You expect to read about ruffians, roughnecks and a character that will be soulless, amoral and mean. Sir Wendel the main character is not a rake, a roughneck and does not fit in to the general definition of a bounty hunter. You find that Merle has written a beautiful deep story about the human mind, its preoccupation with myth, gods and wars. You read the Bounty Hunter, and came away from it scratching my head. I had at first read just enjoyed myself until the sneaking feeling came that it was not just any story about thieves, but questions about the necessity for war, empire, and man’s real place in creation and what he really wants. I did not have answers but like Walter Kaperon whom I think is the real Merlin of the book.. everything is not really as it seems and Man has existed continuously but has learned very liitle despite the efforts of the g ods, science and creation. I wish to congratulate Merle on this book and also IFWG publishing. They seem to have a good nose. 

gezza

Posted August 12, 2012
saucy, swashbuckling, revengeful

I had the pleasure of reading this book prior to publication.

It is a story that works on two dimensions – at the superficial level, it is a story about revenge and fixing what is right – a classic tale that fits right in any genre, but Westerns come to mind. But if you scratch the surface, there’s a lot more. It is also a critical dig at the abuse of power, and particularly by people who have sacred responsibilities to their nations and people. It is also a human story, about how trials and tribulations can change people, and yet, with courage, retain what is essential to be human.

The story is saucy without being over the top. It is swashbuckling, like any good heroic fantasy should be, and it has its moments of humor.

A very good read indeed. Worthy of 5 stars.

The average Amazon reader review rating is currently 5 stars, with 1 review.

Click here to read more about and purchase The Bounty Hunter for $3.99 at Amazon 

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: daylight, Megan Thomason {FREE!}

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Megan Thomason‘s Frugal Find Under Nine:

Description of daynight:

“Sure to win over YA readers looking for a dangerous, dystopian adventure story” —Kirkus Reviews

“Gripping young adult dystopian novel; compelling conflicts; high stakes; powerful narrative; surprises keep coming; strong writing; page-turner; engaging characters; Readers will be hungry for the sequels.”—BlueInk Review (starred review)

Meet The Second Chance Institute (SCI): Earth’s benevolent non-profit by day, Thera’s totalitarian regime by night. Their motto: Because Everyone Deserves a Second Chance at Life(TM). Reality: the SCI subjects Second Chancers to strict controls and politically motivated science experiments like Cleaving—forced lifetime union between two people who have sex. Punishment for disobeying SCI edicts? Immediate Exile or death.

Meet Kira Donovan. Fiercely loyal, overly optimistic, and ensnared by the promise of a full-ride college scholarship, Kira signs the SCI Recruit contract to escape memories of a tragedy that left her boyfriend and friends dead.

Meet Blake Sundry. Bitter about being raised in Exile and his mother’s death, Blake’s been trained to infiltrate and destroy the SCI. Current barrier to success? His Recruit partner—Miss Goody Two Shoes Kira Donovan.

Meet Ethan Darcton. Born with a defective heart and resulting inferiority complex, Ethan’s forced to do his SCI elite family’s bidding. Cleave-worthy Kira Donovan catches his eye, but the presiding powers give defect-free Blake Sundry first dibs.

Full of competing agendas, romantic entanglements, humor, twists and turns, daynight is Megan Thomason’s debut young adult dystopian novel and first in the daynight series.

 

Accolades:

BlueInk Review Starred Review: “gripping young adult dystopian novel; compelling conflicts; high stakes; powerful narrative; surprises keep coming; strong writing; page-turner; engaging characters; Readers will be hungry for the sequels.”

“Sure to win over YA readers looking for a dangerous, dystopian adventure story… A sci-fi adventure with a sweet YA love story at its center… richly imagined alternate world… distinctive voices and conflicting motivations” —Kirkus Reviews

“Well written and with excellent character development, this book grips you from the first page and keeps you wanting more. ” C. Church, Amazon reviewer

“This is not a book to breeze through or skim – you will want to enjoy every minute.” Eagereader, Amazon reviewer

 

Reviews:

daylight currently has an Amazon reader review rating of 4.6 stars from 56 reviews. Read the reviews here.

 

daynight is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for FREE

 

An excerpt from daynight:


PROLOGUE

The moment the perfectly styled, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl awakens to the sight of her own dead body, she swears and slaps her corpse across the face. The gesture makes no impact. She checks her hands. Not a lick of vomit, despite the fact Dead Her’s covered with it.

“Stupid,” she yells at her dead-self. “If we were going to go, it should have been in grand fashion. A high speed car chase or skydiving or getting blown to bits by a terrorist. Not by some fluke. Not at my own party!” Someone will find us and fix this, she thinks.

She catches a glimpse of her animated self in the mirror. No longer dressed in her tailored Dolce & Gabbana dress or to-die for Prada jeweled satin 5 1/2 inch heel pumps, a simple and quite ugly grey shift hangs loosely from her body. An ear piercing scream leaves her lips. No, no, no. This can’t be real. Has to be a nightmare. There’s no way she’d ever wear such an insult to the fashion gods. She attempts to remove the shoes from her corpse as they’d easily make her top 100 pairs, but they won’t budge. Nor will the Tiffany necklace adorned with a most sentimental ring. Frustrated, she pummels Dead Her with well-placed kicks, but the stiff doesn’t flinch an inch.

“This isn’t a dream and we generally advise against beating oneself up,” a voice booms behind her. A tall man with white hair has appeared next to the girl in her locked parent’s master bathroom. His somber tone and white, pristinely pressed suit signal ‘all business.’ “Sit down,” he invites, gesturing to a small metal table and chairs that weren’t there a minute ago. The girl’s mother would fall down and die right next to the girl if she saw warehouse quality furniture adorning the special-ordered Italian floor and Louis XVI-era commode.

“Tell me what happened,” the man instructs.
“Am I really dead?” the girl asks, ignoring his request and pointing to the lifeless figure on the floor.

“I think that’s quite self-explanatory,” he says. “Determining the how and why will help me place you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Place me? As in Heaven vs. Hell? Let’s see. I don’t pray or worship anyone other than my personal shopper and tailor. I haven’t been to church in more than a decade. So, I’m thinking I’m headed downward. And if that doesn’t seal the deal, drinking myself to death at my own party should do it. But maybe you take pity on entitled kids left to their own devices by jet-setting parents?”

He opens a notebook and jots down a few notes, before asking, “You took some pain killers earlier this evening?”

“Yeah. I had some pain,” she snorts.

“From the tattoo you got after partying with your friends last night? A single black rose between your shoulder blades?”

“Uh, yeah. How’d you know about that?” she says, wondering if it is still present. The nagging itch and twinge of discomfort that were there yesterday have disappeared.

“Did you know your tattoo was infected?” he asks, not even looking up.

“Serious? No,” she gasps, knowing she shouldn’t have trusted that grimy Mission Beach tattoo parlor.

“You had fourteen drinks over the past six hours? Six shots, three vodka-tonics, and five glasses of punch?” he says, as he pushes his reading glasses farther up the bridge of his nose.

“Something like that,” she sneers. “As I said, it was a party. My party.”

“Did you know some of your male house guests supplemented the punch with an additive meant to loosen inhibitions?” he asks.

“Nope. Sounds like something the idiots would do though.”

“Were you depressed at all? Did you have a desire to die?” he says.

“It was a mistake,” she says. “It wasn’t about depression. It was about fun. Ever heard of it? It’s ridiculous I had to die over it. Everyone else seems to get a second chance. Why not me?” The man takes his time reviewing his notes and seems to make some sort of decision as he closes his notebook.
“I know just the place for you,” he says. “Follow me.”

And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. 
And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night.
Genesis 1:3-5
If light is good, what does the dark bring?

CHAPTER ONE
Kira

Escape, I remind myself. That’s why I’m here. On a speedboat. With a creepy escort who looks like the human incarnation of Mr. Potatohead. Heading into the open ocean towards an unknown destination. I’d eagerly signed the dotted line of The Second Chance Institute Recruit year-long contract, agreeing to leave all my earthly possessions in San Diego. It seemed easier to run than face my demons. I do regret abandoning my brother, Jared. He’s a year younger and it’s always been us versus them, and by them I mean the judgmental, self-centered beings who gave us life. My parents couldn’t shove me out the door fast enough, as my distress infringed upon their illusion of a perfect, carefree existence.

Just the thought of escaping reminds me of the events that led to my decision. I close my eyes and let fragments in, fighting the tears away. The ‘incident’ happened two months ago. My SCI Recruit Test preceded my senior year Winter Formal and after-party, which I attended with my boyfriend, Tristan and best friend, Briella. At the party, they ditched me after having tormented me all evening for considering a ‘do-gooder stint’ with the SCI. I figured they’d drink it off and get over it. In their absence, I met the perfect(ly unattainable) guy, Ethan. Who had me fantasizing about marriage, babies and growing old together. But, we were both ‘taken’ and, regrettably, parted ways.

The turning point of the fateful evening and reason I’m still alive: catching my boyfriend and best friend groping each other in a steamy make-out session. Refusing to discuss or forgive, I’d fled the posh Rancho Santa Fe estate and out into the darkness. Eerie silence was followed by ear-splitting, bomb-like thunder. Whatever the source, it leveled the house in seconds, raining fire and debris in every direction. I remember being hit by shrapnel and the resulting blood and pain. Being dragged from the wreckage. And then, medical personnel, police and the press all hounding me to know how I escaped the tragedy that left 110 of my classmates—including my boyfriend and all my close friends—dead.

I push the memories aside and lean back on the vinyl cushions of the boat. Listen to the whir of the motor. The spray of the boat’s wake cools the effects of the glorious Southern California sun and dampens my long, more-strawberry-than-blonde curls. Cutting through the waves at high speed rocks me into a trance. My SCI Recruiter, Ted Rosenberg—the Mr. Potatohead clone, who I’ve nicknamed ‘Spud’—encourages me to ‘enjoy the nice weather while it lasts,’ but I don’t respond. He yaps about Unit 27, my final destination, warning of ‘extreme temperature variations.’ Dump me at the North Pole, I think, if it puts distance between me and my memories.

According to their brochure, The Second Chance Institute places Recruits worldwide, with many prime locations throughout Europe, Asia, Africa and South America. Unfortunately, Recruits don’t get to choose where they serve and you can’t take anything with you other than the clothes on your back. The SCI provides ‘everything needed’ to adapt to one’s assignment. I sincerely doubt they can anticipate my every need, but don’t really care. I just want to get there and learn the where/what/whys about this mysterious Unit 27.

My blood apparently contains some random marker called DNT that made me an ‘excellent candidate’ for one of SCI’s more ‘remote’ and quite classified locations. So other than knowing that 50,000 residents make their home in Unit 27, I’m going in blind. I’ll help ‘those in need of a second chance at life,’ but in what capacity I’m clueless. Does it matter what I do? In return for my year of service, the SCI will grant me a full-ride scholarship to the college of my choice. Given I’m shooting for Ivy League or equivalent, I could use the help. My parents firmly believe in ‘supporting one’s self once one turns 18’ or in other words, not depleting my mother’s jewelry and vacation fund.

The boat slows and my stomach pitches up and down with the waves. I sit up and scan the horizon. What the—? Impossible. A dilapidated warehouse-like building, no larger than a two-car garage sits atop the ocean water. Other than squawking seagulls lining the roof, there’s no other sign of life. Spud easily maneuvers the boat up alongside the building and ties it down.

“Where are we?” I ask Spud. “Are we transferring to a larger boat here or something?” I’d spent the morning badgering him about our method of transportation to Unit 27. An airplane, I’d understand. A speedboat, not so much. No land mass off San Diego could house 50,000 people.

Spud bobbles his head and in a harsh tone says, “Ms. Donovan, please follow me. There is no time to waste if you are to adjust properly and start your training on time. We’re the last to arrive.” He offers me a hand, and helps me to my feet. We both leave the boat, though that does nothing to make me feel like I’m back on solid ground. The building sways with the waves. All directions offer no view of land or ships. Not good. We may be stuck here a while. Perhaps they’ll have a comfortable couch and food for the wait. I trail Spud into the dark and musty building. Disappointment strikes. The space we enter has a single, dim lightbulb which illuminates the small room enough to see peeling drywall and dark patches that look and smell like mold. A single arched doorway mirrors the door we entered on the opposite side of the room.

“OK,” Spud continues, “Ms. Donovan, go straight ahead to the end of the long corridor and into the large room. I will follow you.”

My brain won’t accept the thought of the small building containing a long corridor, much less a large room, but I’m eager to exit. I stumble forward through the dark, tunnel-like hallway for the equivalent of a city block before seeing a light ahead. My skin itches from small pinprick-like sensations from head to toe and I am parched beyond comprehension. I feel dizzy and ill, and have to stop to catch my breath as I enter the lighted room, an immense domed space as wide as a school cafeteria with pebbled walls and slate floor. Spud enters the room after me and vomits into a receptacle so violently his body convulses. He motions a small group across the room to join us before collapsing on the floor.
I notice that the wave-like motions have ceased. As I canvass the cavern-like room with my eyes, I’m positive that I am farther than the hundred feet from the boat I should be.

“Mr. Rosenberg, where on God’s green earth have you brought me?” I gasp.

“Technically, Ms. Donovan,” Spud grunts between spasms, “we are no longer on God’s green earth.”

“Say what?” I demand. I could have sworn I heard something to the effect of ‘not on’ and ‘earth’ in the same sentence, which isn’t possible.

 

daynight is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for FREE!

 

Connect with Megan Thomason:

Author Website: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6578897.Megan_Thomason

Author Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/daynight.series

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

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: Alice in Deadland, Mainak Dhar {$0.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!}

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Description of Alice in Deadland:

The sensational Amazon.com bestseller. #1 Science Fiction and Horror bestseller. More than 50,000 copies sold in less than three months.

Civilization as we know it ended more than fifteen years ago, leaving as it’s legacy barren wastelands called the Deadland and a new terror for the humans who survived- hordes of undead Biters.

Fifteen year-old Alice has spent her entire life in the Deadland, her education consisting of how best to use guns and knives in the ongoing war for survival against the Biters. One day, Alice spots a Biter disappearing into a hole in the ground and follows it, in search of fabled underground Biter bases.

What Alice discovers there propels her into an action-packed adventure that changes her life and that of all humans in the Deadland forever. An adventure where she learns the terrible conspiracy behind the ruin of humanity, the truth behind the origin of the Biters, and the prophecy the mysterious Biter Queen believes Alice is destined to fulfill.

A prophecy based on the charred remains of the last book in the Deadland- a book called Alice in Wonderland.

Now also available:
Through The Killing Glass (Alice in Deadland Book II)
Off With Their Heads (The prequel to Alice in Deadland)

Accolades:

“ALICE IN DEADLAND is a fast paced, creative zombie tale.”
- Reads A Lot Book Reviews

“Alice in Deadland may be a ‘zombie-like’ story, but it is a metaphorical tale of how we tend to demonize that which we do not understand. It is obvious that there are socio-economic and geopolitical undercurrents in the story line and shadows of colonialism, post-colonialism, jingoism, and intolerance. If you can read between the lines and see the deeper meaning to the story, Alice in Deadland is a wonderfully entertaining ebook.”
- eNovel Reviews

“Words to live by: Eat all your vegetables. Exercise like a fiend. Sleep a solid seven to eight hours a day. Never, ever read Alice in Deadland before you sleep. Ever. Because if you do make the mistake of idly perusing the first page, you’re going to want to finish the last and that, ladies and gentlemen, is a foul surprise to learn on a work day. An unusual blend of the zombie mythos, conspiracy theories and Lewis Caroll, Alice in Deadland is self-proclaimed ‘cubicle worker by day, author by night’ Mainak Dhar’s most recent offering and one of the best reinterpretations of the childhood fable yet.”
- Kindlefu.com

Reviews:

Alice in Deadland currently has an Amazon reader review rating of 3.6 stars from 338 reviews. Read the reviews here.

 

Blood and Honour – The Battle for Saxony is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!

 

An excerpt from Alice in Deadland:

ONE

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the hill, and of having no Biters to shoot. Once or twice she peeped through her sniper rifle’s scope, but could see no targets. ‘What is the use of an ambush,’ thought Alice, ‘without any Biters to shoot in the head?’

Alice was fifteen, and had been born just three months after The Rising. Her older sister and parents sometimes talked of how the world had been before. They talked of going to the movies, of watching TV, of taking long drives in the countryside, of school. Alice could relate to none of that. The only life she had known was one of hiding from the Biters. The only education that she knew to be useful consisted of three simple lessons: if a Biter bites you, you will become one of them; if a Biter bites someone you know, it doesn’t matter whether that person was your best friend; they were now a Biter and would rip your throat out in a heartbeat; and if you could take only one shot, aim for the head. Only the head. Nothing else would put a Biter down for good.

So here she was, lying on a small hillock, her rifle at her shoulder, waiting to pick off any stragglers who escaped the main force. The first few years of her life had been one of hiding, and of surviving from one day to another. But then the humans had begun to regroup and fight back, and the world had been engulfed in a never-ending war between the living and the undead. Alice’s parents were part of the main assault force that was now sweeping through a group of Biters that had been spotted near their settlement. She could hear the occasional pop of guns firing, but so far no Biters had come their way. Her sister was lying quietly, as always obedient and somber. Alice could not imagine just lying here, getting bored when the action was elsewhere, so she crawled away to the edge of the small hill they were on and peered through her scope, trying to get a glimpse of the action.

That’s when she saw him. The Biter was wearing pink bunny ears of all things. That in itself did not strike Alice as strange. When someone was bitten and joined the undead, they just continued to wear what they had been wearing when they were turned. Perhaps this one had been at a party when he had been bitten. The first Biter she had shot had been wearing a tattered Santa Claus suit. Unlike kids before The Rising, she had not needed her parents to gently break the news that Santa Claus was not real. What was truly peculiar about this Biter was that he was not meandering about mindlessly but seemed to be looking for something. The Biters were supposed to be mindless creatures, possessed of no intelligence other than an overpowering hunger to bite the living. She braced herself, centering the crosshairs of her scope on the Biter’s head. He was a good two hundred meters away and moving fast, so it was hardly going to be an easy shot.

That’s when the Biter with the bunny ears dropped straight into the ground.

Alice looked on, transfixed, and then without thinking of what she was getting into, ran towards the point where the Biter had seemingly been swallowed up by the ground. Her heart was pounding as she came closer. For months there had been rumors that the Biters had created huge underground bases where they hid and from which they emerged to wreak havoc. There were stories of entire human armies being destroyed by Biters who suddenly materialized out from the ground and then disappeared. However, nobody had yet found such a base and these stories were largely dismissed as being little more than fanciful fairy tales. Had Alice managed to find such a base?

Her excitement got the better of her caution, and she ran on alone. She should have alerted her sister, she should have called for reinforcements, she should have done a lot of things. But at that moment, all she remembered was where the Biter had dropped into the ground and of what would happen if she had truly found an underground Biter base. She was an excellent shot, far better than most of the adults in the settlement, and she was fast. If there was one thing she had been told by all her teachers since she started training, it was that she was a born fighter. She could put a man twice her size on the mat in the wink of an eye, and she had shown her mettle in numerous skirmishes against the Biters. Yet, she was not allowed to lead raids far from the settlement. That had always grated, but with her father being one of the leaders of the settlement, she was unable to do anything to change that. He claimed that her excellent shooting and scouting skills were better used in d efensive roles close to their settlement, and had promised her that when she was older he would reconsider, but she knew that was a nervous father speaking, not the leader of their settlement.

This could change all that.

Suddenly she felt the ground give way under her and she felt herself falling. She managed to hold onto her rifle, but found herself sliding down a smooth, steep and curving slope. There seemed to be no handholds or footholds for her to slow her descent or to try and climb back up. She looked up to see the hole through which light was streaming in disappear as the tunnel she was falling down curved and twisted.

Alice screamed as she continued falling in utter darkness.

***

It took Alice a few minutes to get her bearings, as she was totally disoriented in the dark and also winded by her fall. She saw that her fall had been broken by a thick cushioning of branches and leaves. She had heard whispers that the Biters were not the mindless drones that many adults dismissed them to be, but those accounts had been dismissed by most people as fanciful tales. She wondered if there was some truth to those rumors after all. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she saw a sliver of light to her right and crawled towards it. As she went deeper into the tunnel, while she still could not see much, the smell was unmistakable. The rotten stench that she knew came from only one possible source: the decayed bodies of the undead. Even though she had seen the aftermath of many a skirmish with the Biters and was no stranger to the stench, she found herself gagging. As she came closer to the light, she saw that the tunnel opened into a small room that was lit by crudel y fashioned torches hung on the walls.

She could hear some voices and as she peeped around the corner, she saw that the rabbit-eared Biter she had followed down was in animated conversation with two others. One of them was, or rather had been in life, perhaps a striking young woman. Now her skin was yellowing and decayed and hung in loose patches on her face. Her clothes were tattered and bloodied. The other Biter with her was a plump, short man who seemed to have the better part of his left side torn off, perhaps by a mine or a grenade. Alice had been around weapons for as long as she could remember, and while all humans now needed to be able to defend themselves, Alice had shown a special talent for fighting, perhaps one her mother did not always approve of. Her mother had wanted Alice to do as the other young people did and stand on guard duty close to the settlements, but Alice had always wanted to be in the forefront, to feel the thrill that came with it. Now, Alice thought, she had perhaps got more thrills t han she had ever bargained for. She was trapped in an underground Biter base, with no apparent way out.

The Biters were talking in a mixture of growls and moans, but they seemed to be communicating with each other. Now that she got a closer look at the rabbit-eared Biter she had followed in, she realized that he had been in life not much older than her. Perhaps he had been on his way to a costume party when he had been bitten. As he turned his head, Alice saw what may have once been a smile now replaced by a feral grin that revealed bloodied teeth.

Alice’s heart stopped as Bunny Ears looked straight at her. For a second she hoped that he had not seen her, but he bared his teeth and emitted a screeching howl that sent a shiver up her spine. As all three Biters turned to look at her, she exploded into action.

Alice’s grasp of the alphabet may have been tenuous despite her mother’s many failed attempts to teach her the languages of yore. But after The Rising, Alice saw no use for them; there were no books to read, and no time to read them even if they had remained. But what Alice excelled in school at, and could do almost without conscious thought, was how to thumb the safety off her handgun and bring it up to a two handed hold within three seconds. The first shot took the fat Biter squarely in the forehead and he went down with an unceremonious flop. As the two others bore down on her in the slight loping, lumbering gait the Biters were known for, she fired again and again, the shots from her gun echoing in the underground cavern. She hit the female Biter at least twice in the chest and then knocked her flat with a head shot. Bunny Ears was now barely a few feet away when Alice’s handgun clicked empty. She cursed under her breath at her horrible aim, realizing just how much easier it was to shoot at targets in practice or snipe from hundreds of meters away compared to being so close to Biters out for her blood, and with her heart hammering so fast she could barely keep her hands straight, let alone aim.

Alice heard footsteps and howls behind her, and realized with a stab of panic that she was now well and truly trapped between Bunny Ears and others who may have come behind her down the hole.

She looked around frantically and saw a small opening in the wall to her right. She ran towards Bunny Ears, diving down at the last minute beneath his outstretched fingers, which were crusted over with dried blood. Alice stood only about five feet tall, and was lean, but she had been top of her class in unarmed combat. She swept her legs under the Biter, coming up in one seamless motion as Bunny Ears fell down in a heap. She ran towards the hole in the wall and turned around to see at least four more Biters coming behind her.

Alice fumbled at her belt and took the lone flash bang grenade she had slung there. As she ran into the hole she pulled the pin and rolled it on the ground behind her, and then continued to run at full speed into the darkness of the hole. She heard the thump of the grenade a few seconds later, hoping that the intense flash of light it emitted would slow down her pursuers for a few seconds and buy her some time.

With that hope came a sobering thought. Time to do what? She was stuck deep inside what seemed to be a Biter base, and was running ever deeper into its recesses. She was well and truly trapped.

***

Alice ran till she was out of breath and stopped, going down on her knees, more tired and scared than she had ever been. The darkness and narrowness of the passage she was in did not help, as it made her feel disoriented and claustrophobic. At least she could no longer hear footsteps behind her. That did not surprise her. While the flash bang would not stop the Biters, she knew they hated very bright light, and it would certainly have slowed them down. Also, she was a very fit young girl who could outrun most of the people in their settlement, whereas the Biters pursuing her, while feared for their feral violence, moved with their characteristic stiff, loping gait, which meant she would be able to outrun them in any flat out race. The problem was that she was trapped in their base, and all they had to do was to tire her out.

When she thought she heard distant footsteps behind her, her fear gave her a second wind and she started running again, clutching her side, which had begun to hurt from the exertion. She ran into a wall, and fell hard on her back, realizing that the tunnel turned ahead of her. As she looked past the turning, she saw what appeared to be a door framed by light coming from behind it. She ran towards it, and as she came closer, she was stunned to see a familiar figure drawn on the door. It was a seal showing an eagle framed by letters that were barely visible in the light coming from behind it. She started trying to read the letters and got past the U, N and I before she realized she did not need to tax her limited reading skills to understand what it showed. She had seen a similar seal in old papers her father kept locked away in a dusty box. Once he had told her something about him having worked in the United States Embassy in New Delhi before The Rising. She had understood lit tle of what he had meant, though other kids around the settlement had told her that her father had been some sort of important man in the governments of the Old World. They had told her that she and her family had come from another land called America, which was why her blond hair and fair skin looked so different from her brown friends. But none of that mattered much to Alice, or to anyone else anymore. The old governments and countries were long gone. Now all people, irrespective of their old countries, religions or politics were bound together in but one overriding compact: the need to survive in the face of the Biter hordes. She had heard tales of how human nations had waged wars against each other, driven by the gods they worshipped, or the desire to grab oil. Alice remembered laughing when her teacher at the makeshift school in the settlement had told her class about those days. She had thought her teacher was telling them some tall tales. What was it the old folks cal led them? The ones who had read the books before the undead rose and the world burned?

Yes, fairy tales.

When Alice heard footsteps behind her, she was snapped back to reality, and she struggled with the door in front of her, trying desperately to open it. She found a handle and pulled it with all her strength, and finally found the door budging. The door was made of heavy metal, and it sapped all her strength to open it enough for her to slip through. She looked back through the open door and heard the roars before she saw shadows appear in the tunnel. She pulled the door shut, hoping that what she had heard about Biters being stupid was right. That old joke about how many Biters it took to open a door.

She took a look around the room she was in and saw that it was lit by a single small kerosene lamp on the ceiling, and was filled with papers and files that crammed the shelves lining the walls. There was a small desk in a corner and when she walked to it, she saw some old newspapers on it. She had never seen a newspaper in her life, and was fascinated by the pictures and words she saw. She didn’t need to read the words to know what they showed. They were relics of the last days during The Rising and its aftermath. There were grainy pictures of the first appearances of the undead, which she imagined for those who had never seen before them must have been quite a sight. Then there were pictures of burnt and charred cities: the remains of the Great Fire that the human governments had unleashed on so many cities when it seemed like all was lost. That was the barren, bleak landscape that Alice had known as home: the wastelands outside New Delhi, where millions had died in th e Biter outbreak and then millions more as governments tried to contain the outbreak by using nuclear weapons on the key outbreak centers. Man had proven to be the most jealous of lovers, preferring to destroy the Earth rather than give her up. But it had not been enough, and in the fires of that apocalypse was born a renewed struggle for survival between humans and the undead in the wasteland that was now known simply as the Deadland.

Alice had been so transfixed by what she saw that she had forgotten all about securing the other doors to the room, and she screamed in agony when she realized that there was another door, partially obscured by a chair, which was ajar. She heard footsteps behind it, and realized that what she had taken for escape was in fact nothing more than a death trap.

She took out her handgun from her belt and as she felt for the safety, remembered with dismay that in all the chaos she had forgotten to reload. As she saw shadows enter the door, she realized she had no time for that any more. She unslung the sniper rifle from her shoulders. As such close quarters, there was no hope of her putting it to much use as a long range weapon, but there were other ways to make it count.

As a child, Alice had forever been getting into scrapes, and her parents would never tire of telling her to back down once in a while, instead of wading into every fight. But once, after she had shot two Biters during a night-time raid, her father had got quite drunk to celebrate and told her that he loved her spirit and that no matter what the odds, she should never give into fear. To be afraid in the face of the undead was to die, or worse, to become one of them.

As Alice remembered her father’s words, she felt her fear slip away. She knew that the Biters tried to bite and turn every human they found, but also that the humans who fought back the hardest sometimes enraged them so much that they ripped them apart, killing them instead of turning them into the undead.

Better dead than undead.

That had been the motto of the school where they had been taught survival and combat skills. Whereas little girls before The Rising may have been playing with their toys or watching TV, Alice had grown up playing with guns, explosives and learning the best way to destroy the undead. And she had been the best in her class.

She was now swinging the rifle in front of her like a staff, moving it around her fingers so it cut sharp circles through the air. Three Biters came in, and as the first reached for her, she cracked him across the forehead and leaned toward him, sweeping his legs under him as he went down. The next up was a squat woman wearing the tattered, bloody remains of a saree, and incongruously enough, a huge diamond solitaire earring on her left ear. The right ear was missing. Alice delivered a roundhouse kick that sent Ms. Solitaire stumbling back and then reversed the sniper rifle in her hand, firing a single shot that disintegrated the Biter’s head. The third Biter, a tall man with his jaw missing, was almost upon her when she hit him hard in the face with the butt of her rifle. Biters might feel no pain, but it unbalanced him enough for Alice to jump back a few steps and put another round into his chest. Only a head shot would put down a Biter for good, but a high powered sni per rifle bullet did impressive enough damage and slowed one down no matter where it hit. A gaping hole opened in the Biter’s chest as he slumped back. Alice knew he’d be at her throat soon enough so she tried to chamber another round in her rifle.

That was when she felt her right arm caught in a cold, clammy grip that was so strong she screamed and dropped her rifle. Bunny Ears was back and he was bringing his face back to bite her arm. Alice kicked him in the shin, but he did not even wince as he came closer to delivering the bite that would be the last thing Alice felt before she became one of them.

Alice did the last thing he perhaps expected. She head-butted him, and as he staggered back and loosened his grip on her arm, she vaulted over the desk and stood with her back to the wall. There were now no less than six Biters gathered in front of her, and Alice suppressed the welling panic within as she unsheathed the curved hunting knife that was always by her side. Bunny Ears snarled and screamed in rage, a hellish concerto that was soon taken up by all the Biters in the room. Alice had heard of this ritual before. It meant the Biters were going to rip some human apart instead of trying to convert them. Alice reversed the knife in her right hand and stood with her legs slightly spread apart, just as she had mastered in countless hours of unarmed combat practice. Her teacher there had been some sort of elite commando in the armies of the old governments, and he had told her she was his best student. She slowed her breathing, focusing on the creatures in front of her, tryin g to block out her fear, trying to still her mind. As Bunny Ears stepped toward her, she gripped the knife handle tight and readied herself. Better dead than undead.

***

Alice in Deadland is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!

 

Connect with Mainak Dhar:

Author Website: www.mainakdhar.com

Author Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/groups/345795412099089/

Author Twitter Page: @mainakdhar

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: The Sky Between Two Worlds, Glen Books {FREE!}

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Glen Books’ Frugal Find Under Nine:

Description of The Sky Between Two Worlds:

The Sky Between Two Worlds is a thinking person’s techno-thriller of a near-future world where two hostile powers have stealth warplanes that the other cannot detect. America is caught up in fragmented political parties, influential special interests, cross-border drone attacks and inexperienced leaders. After a drone strike goes tragically awry, the conflict crescendos into disaster.

The story follows Kantak Johnson, an Alaskan native, from MIT where he invented improved stealth planes, back to Alaska where he and friends seek to increase the self-sufficiency of the State, and where he risks all to defend Alaska and the Lower 48 from stealth attack.

 

Accolades:

***** A Great Technothriller Sci-Fi Debut
The Sky Between Two Worlds is a first-rate techno-thriller, sci-fi novella that should be read by all fans of this genre. Books, who has an impressive science and academic resume, is an author readers should keep an eye on.
—Joseph Souza
***** An Excellent Start
The setting is intriguing and the characters excellently crafted. A most promising start.
—Rev 357

 

Amazon Reader Reviews:

The Sky Between Two Worlds  currently has a Amazon reader review rating of 5 stars, with84 reviews! Read the reviews here!

 

Excerpt from Kiss of Midnight:

In a helicopter circling the ruins, Colonel Kantak Johnson, former governor of Alaska and current member of the North American Parliament, surveyed the craters of the two bombs that had devastated the city: one an underwater blast near the harbor and the other an airburst over the city center. The sub-megaton blasts had left only steel skeletons of skyscrapers, a few recognizable buildings, car-shaped objects and tidal wave debris, all coated with pulverized rock and ash. Weeds, bushes and a scattering of small trees had begun to claim the ruins.

Kantak viewed the exposed, twisted girders of the city. They seemed naked, vaguely obscene. It should have a proper burial. He sniffed the air: the smell of seaweed and salt water. But to Kantak, who had lived in the once-vibrant city, it was now a smell of death. Then he saw a small segment of a bridge that once had crossed the river. He pointed to it for his pilot: “Land there, please.”
As they landed, Kantak looked toward a reed-infested swamp on the southwest bank. He saw a broken dome and fallen fluted columns projecting from brackish water. But, contrary to his hopes, nothing visible remained of the engineering library that had once stood there. This is the bridge. He had crossed it many times. He said, “There’s something I want to check.”

Kantak and the pilot donned dust masks and scraped debris off the broken concrete walkway near the remains of a lamp post. The cleaned concrete revealed the painted words “Halfway to.” Behind the mask, memories closed his eyes. This is where it all began, on this spot, twenty years ago, here in Boston.

 

The Sky Between Two Worlds  is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for FREE!


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Author Website: amazon.com/author/glenbooks

Limelight: A Golden Light Anthology {$3.99}

Limelight: A Golden Light Anthology features tales of new worlds and old worlds and worlds yet to be. These stories twist and turn with adventure, intrigue, and wonder. This anthology of short stories brings science fiction and fantasy out of the shadows and into the limelight.

Authors Edward W. Robertson, John Grover, James S. Dorr, Ela Lond, Sergio Palumbo, Larissa Hinton, Jessica B. Zeidler, Katy Huth Jones, Alexandra Baker, Catriel Ceballos, Domyelle Rhyse, and Bill Blume spin tales of old and new, of fantasy or alternate realities. These stories wrap around the future, the unknown, and the fantastic. You may be surprised at where they’ll lead…

Take my hand and step into the light with Limelight: A Golden Light Anthology

***

Look for more books in the series -

Lamplight : A Golden Light Anthology
Christian and Inspirational Short Stories and Poems

Gaslight : A Golden Light Anthology
Historical Short Stories

Nightlight : A Golden Light Anthology
Children’s Short Stories and Poems

Limelight : A Golden Light Anthology
Science Fiction and Fantasy Short Stories

Spotlight : A Golden Light Anthology
Young Adult Short Stories

Click here to read more about and purchase Limelight: A Golden Light Anthology for $3.99 from Amazon

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: The Forever Saga: Flash, Sean C. Sousa {$0.99}

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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:

“This book is such a good read it’s hard to put down…it’s clear that this book is way more than just sci-fi. It’s got everything from action to romance, comedy to tragedy, and even a touch of mystery as the plot unfolds with more than a few unexpected discoveries.”

“Sean Sousa does an amazing job at creating a world unique to his story while creating very believable and relatable characters. The sci-fi is riveting; the romance tugs at your heart strings; the comedy is gold.”

“…A great first offering by a very gifted writer. Sean Sousa grabs your attention with 60 ft robots and hidden cities of 100 million people. He then weaves this tale with real people with real lives and real relational issues. Sean builds the depth in his characters until you really care about their struggles. The book is full of action, heroics, and good vs evil but it also is full of flawed people, heartache, tears and laughter…I can’t wait for book 2.”


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:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99

 

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


THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: You Shouldn’t Call Me Mommy, Susan Tsui {$0.99}

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Description of You Shouldn’t Call Me Mommy:

Orphaned by his parents and his artificial mother, and abandoned by his older brother at a young age, Jay spends most of his adulthood serving as a government therapist to those like him.  He considers his own happiness proof of success in his career and life.  Little does he know that his picture perfect world, occupied by his wife, Sasha, and their two children, is not as idyllic as it seems.

When Jay’s older brother, Ian, returns Jay finds himself torn between the happy bubble he resides in and helping his troubled brother keep his own children out of the hands of the very institution Jay serves.  Can Jay save Ian while holding onto the loving memories of his artificial mother and all that he believes in?  More importantly, does he even want to?

You Shouldn’t Call Me Mommy is a story about the difficult journey of self-discovery, one that explores the power of truth over illusion and the meaning of a mother’s love.

 

Accolades:

“A compelling narrator drives this strong, sympathetic tale that begets metaphysical soul-searching.” ~ Kirkus Reviews (starred review) 

“Susan Tsui’s deft touch in scene after scene made me bleed for the characters.” ~ Amazon Reviewer

“This was an imaginative and thought provoking novel. It is an excellent debut that promises great future things from author. ” ~ Amazon Reviewer


Amazon Reader Reviews:

You Shouldn’t Call Me Mommy currently has a Amazon reader review rating of 4 stars, with 10 reviews! Read the reviews here!

 

You Shouldn’t Call Me Mommy is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99

 

An excerpt from You Shouldn’t Call Me Mommy:

CHAPTER 1

It has been fourteen years since I last saw Ian. So it takes me a moment to recognize the slightly graying gentleman waiting for me out in the hall as my brother. At first I don’t really notice him. I take him for another patient, someone new who wants to join the therapy group. I continue to shake everyone’s hands and wish them a nice evening. It isn’t until he pulls his hands from his pockets to move away from the wall and starts approaching, and I take a brief moment to wonder what this potential patient’s story might be, that I start to realize exactly who is standing before me.

It’s a shock, to say the least.

The last time I saw my brother, I was slamming the door in his face. I glance around the wide open halls and the multitude of rooms surrounding us. There are plenty of doors here, but slamming these won’t do me any good. The hospital’s clinic isn’t in my jurisdiction to kick him out of, and watching him just standing there with hunched shoulders and an uncertain expression has me wondering why the hell he’s here.

“Hi,” Ian says. His voice is more raspy than I remember, older and more tired.

I clench my hands and nod my head, acknowledging that I’ve heard him but not trusting myself to speak.

He opens and closes his mouth several times and then swallows. “How are you doing?” he asks.

The question is so ordinary compared with the circumstances that it feels completely out of place. I don’t know how to answer it. Does he mean how am I at this moment, this day, this week? Does he want to know how I’ve been doing for the past decade and a half? I settle for a grated, “I’m fine.” I refrain from asking him how he is doing. I tell myself I don’t care.

The two of us are simply standing there. I want to walk away, and I don’t know why I’m not. Damn it, do something, I tell myself.

“That’s good,” Ian finally says.

I can’t do this. I won’t. Standing here making small talk to a brother that I haven’t seen in years and pretending that nothing’s happened between us is ridiculous. I stopped talking to him for a reason I remind myself.

“I have to go,” I say.

I start to walk away, and Ian grabs my arm. I shake myself free, while shoving down the sudden urge to raise a fist and smash Ian’s face into the wall. He must recognize how I’m feeling because suddenly he has both hands in the air. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says. All his heys run quickly together without pause, and it occurs to me that my brother is terrified. My anger dwindles down to nothing more than a smoldering burn and try as I do to re-stoke the flames, I can’t. “What do you want?” I find myself demanding.

“To talk,” Ian says. His hands are still in the air. “Just to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” I start to walk away again.

“Please, I need your help.”

The word “please” startles me more than anything. I can’t recall Ian ever requesting anything of me. He demanded, cajoled, but “please” might as well have been non-existent vocabulary.

“With what?” I ask. It must be damned important for him to show up here after all this time.

He opens his mouth to speak and then shakes his head. “Not here.”

“Why not here?”

Ian glances around, and I notice several individuals walking about in the halls. Humans and humaniforms, mingling and chatting.

“The walls have ears,” Ian says.

“I don’t have anything to hide,” I say, and then realize that may be true of me but not necessarily of Ian.

“Can we… Can we go somewhere more private, maybe?”

I shake my head. No, absolutely not.

“Jay.” On his lips my name is a plea.

“I have to get home,” I say. I have to get home, and I have to forget this day ever happened.

“I’m sorry,” Ian says.

What? The words cause me to drop my crossed arms and stare.

“Is that what you need to hear? I’m sorry. I’ll say it again and again, as many times as you need. I’m sorry. Just, please.”

More unfamiliar words from my brother’s lips. Who is this person? Certainly not the Ian I knew. The “I’m sorry” burrows into me. I know it’s not real, that it’s insincere, but just hearing the apology is more than I ever expected from Ian, lie or no.

“Jay.”

“Do you have a hotel you’re staying at?” I find myself asking. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, except Ian said he needed my help; and I can’t but think how much he must need it to come to me like this after all this time and say please and sorry. I cross my arms, hating myself for being so weak, but unable to change it.

“Your place,” Ian says.

I hesitate, thinking about my home and my life now; and I’m not at all certain I’m ready for Ian to come back into it, much less walk through my front door.

“There isn’t anywhere else,” he says.

I can always kick him back out if I have to. I take a deep breath and nod.

He smiles. It’s painful to see the half-hearted stretch of his mouth coupled with the worried wrinkle of his forehead. There’s so much fear and hope there.

I reach into my briefcase and pull out a business card. I scribble my address onto the back and shove the card at him.

Ian clutches the card close. “When should I…?”

“Come by tonight,” I say. I want to get this over with and get him out of my life if I can. I’d bring him home now, but the thought of spending an hour alone with him in a car while I’m still trying to gather my wits about me is more than I can stand.

Ian smiles at me again, and I realize the wrinkles around his eyes resembles the beginnings of crows feet. We’ve gotten so old, and I’ve missed it. I force myself to turn away and start walking.

***

My wife, Sasha, is waiting for me at the door when I get home.

“Hey, Jay.” She dusts the rice flour from her hands and gives me a peck on the cheek. “How was your day?” she asks.

I close my eyes and place my head on her shoulder, burying my face against the base of her neck. I feel the warmth of her wash over me. I shudder and instinctively her hands wrap around my back, and she’s suddenly squeezing me tight. She coos softly into my ears and runs her fingers through my hair, and for a moment nothing else matters but the sweet lullaby of her.

“That bad, huh?” Her voice is a ghost of a whisper.

I let out a tiny hysterical laugh and find comfort that for her that’s all I need to say.

 

You Shouldn’t Call Me Mommy is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99


Connect with Susan Tsui:

Website: http://www.susantsui.com/

The Sky Between Two Worlds, Glen Books {FREE}

A story of intrigue, love, battle and survival in a near-future world of titanic East-West conflict

What readers are saying:

“A Great Techno-Thrilier Sci-Fi Debut! This novel starts innocently enough in the year 2027 asKantak Johnson, an Inupiat from Alaska, strolls through the campus of MIT, days away from graduation. But that’s where the innocence of the scene ends in this original, apocalyptic war thriller by debut author Glen E. Books … Books has penned a tight, lightning quick techno-thrillerin his first outing. He effortlessly weaves dense technological and scientific information into theplot of the story without losing the reader’s interest. The writing is spare and economic, and at no time does this author stray far from his well-thought-out plot. The political posturing between thetwo hostile sides is handled with deft and much skill in the capable hands of Books. By the timethe war is waged, we have fully bought into the tragic sequence of events that have led to thisapocalyptic crisis … The Sky Between Two Worlds is a first-rate techno- thriller sciFi novella that should be read by all fans of this genre. Books, who has an impressive science and academic resume, is an author readers should keep an eye on.”
—Joesph Souza, award-winning suspense author.

The average Amazon reader review rating is currently 5 stars, with 6 reviews.

Click here to read more about and purchase The Sky Between Two Worlds for FREE at Amazon

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