I've just published 'Rifts' and hope to get out the second book of the two book series at the end of March. Meanwhile there is another book in the works. This is also a supernatural thriller. I hope to add a little preview of this upcoming book (which will be a few months down the road) every so often. If you've got a minute leave me a comment telling me what you think.
Keep in mind that proper editing won't be done until the book is finished, though I try to keep it error free as I go. Thanks. Now here's the first installment. THE AWAKENING. CHAPTER 1 He awoke suddenly to find the car careening down an embankment into a curtain of blackness. His right foot frantically searched for the break, abruptly found it, and then slammed it to the floor. But by then the car was moving way too fast. The wheels of the Intrepid grabbed as best they could, but the car continued for a while, sliding over weeds, pine straw, and dirt, plowing headlong through patches of underbrush to sideswipe a lanky old pine tree. It seemed both an instant and an eternity before the tires found solid purchase and the auto groaned and squeaked to a stop gently kissing the trunk of a massive, white oak. Jack Mason exhaled a lung full of hot, bated breath then nervously swiped back a lock of his coal black hair. Something spit and spewed from the bottom of the car. Smoke and steam wafted out from the hood like an apparition drifting off into the night. He twisted the key in the ignition, but already knew what to expect. The car was dead. Even the dashboard lights failed to blink. He opened the driver side door into the velvet blackness and swung his legs out. When he did his foot kicked against an opened can of beer that had fallen into the floorboard. He instantly reached down and retrieved it. There was only a little bit of the foamy liquid remaining. He brought the can to his lips and drank what was left. He crushed the can and tossed it into the pile of empty beer cans that littered the passenger side floorboard. He righted the large red and white Igloo cooler that lay canted next to him on the edge of the seat. He opened it and removed the last can of beer submerged in the icy water. He had passed out. That was a cold realization. He had only come awake when the car left the road and began its jarring descent down this wooded landscape. He thought of his cell phone. He had it in the seat beside him when he left the house, but it was no longer there. He started moving around to see if the phone had fallen and somehow slid under the seat beside him. When he did something caught under his feet. He reached down to see what it was. It was his cell phone. The phone was dark. A portion of the back cover was missing. The front glass was broken. He pressed several buttons to see if he could bring it back to life. Nothing helped. The phone was dead. He pushed himself out of the car and struggled to his feet, quickly grabbing the top of the car with his free hand. His legs were wobbly as if they were made of soft rubber. Where was he? He stared out into the blackness of woods while he waited for a bit of strength and balance to return to his half inebriated and shaken body. Gradually he loosened his grip on the roof of the car and popped the top on the can of beer. For a moment it foamed over, then it was to his mouth where he took a big swallow. The last real location he could recall was the Mity Darn Quick convenience store. He had stopped there for a twelve pack. He wasn’t sure how far he had driven since he had left the store, but it was far enough to have finished nearly all of the twelve pack. What next? Any thought of fixing the car himself was out of the question. A mechanic he was not. He could spend the night in the car. That was an option. Of course he’d be taking a chance that some cop would notice where he had left the road and cut a swath down the embankment. If they found him in the car he would surely go to jail. If he was convicted of another DUI that would be three. That would make him a three time loser. Not good. He sighed. Okay, first he’d find a way out of here back to the paved road. From there he’d figure out what to do next. He began to climb and stumble his way up the trail of flattened weeds and scrub trees broken by the onslaught of the automobile. At the top of the hill he stood for a moment on the dirt shoulder of the two lane blacktop. The night was unusually dark. A scatter of clouds, like thick strands of dark cotton, blanketed the moon and most of the stars. When he looked to his right, down the paved road, he saw only darkness like a deep, lightless tunnel. There was nothing there to induce him to head in that direction. He finished the beer that he had been carrying and tossed the empty can across the street. It ‘clanged’ on the hard asphalt momentarily silencing the serenade of crickets that were hidden somewhere in the darkened underbrush. He looked to his left and spotted a street lamp about a hundred yards away on the opposite side of the road. Just behind it, caught in its soft ambient glow, was the faint outline of a house. He started in that direction. If he could persuade the tenant to call him a taxi (provided this area had taxis) he’d have the driver take him to a hotel. Sometime in the morning, or possibly early afternoon, he would decide on what he needed to do. The alcohol was working on him as he shambled along the shoulder of the highway, occasionally stumbling and laughing about it. What should have been a serious situation was passed off as just another slice of his muddled life. He came adjacent to the house before he was fully aware of it. It stood upon a slight hill across the street from him. It looked down on him as if it were a brick sentry warily eyeing his approach. His breathing was labored as if he had walked for miles, though in his mind it seemed like mere moments. That was one of the unique things about alcohol. It seemed to possess the magic to manipulate time. To shorten or lengthen its cadence as it saw fit. He looked up at the house as he crossed the road. It was not very big. A single story. A two bedroom, he guessed. Nevertheless, it looked imposing sitting on the hill, its brick structure nestled on three sides by thick woods. A single light, like a malevolent eye, shone dully from a front room. He puffed as he fought his way up the slight incline of the driveway. By the time he got to the top he was panting furiously. He leaned over to prop his hands upon his knees. His lungs felt as if they were going to explode. He stepped off the driveway heading away from the house. He needed the support of a good, sturdy tree. Just for a few moments. It might be a bad idea to show up at a stranger’s house all out of breath. He didn’t need to scare anyone into calling the cops on him. He stepped into an area of deep darkness to an old sweet-gum-tree. He slipped under the branches and sat down against the trunk. The street lamp was behind him, its rays successfully blocked by the big tree. To his left the light from the house was much too faint by the time it stretched its way to him. After a few minutes his breathing had steadied somewhat. He pushed to his feet and was about to head back over to the driveway when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head. From his position he could see one side of the house and a little behind the house. Something was moving through the woods behind the house. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. It looked to be a blackened outline, but was also a bit luminous. It was as if the object contained some kind of inner light. It reminded him of a small lamp with a low wattage light bulb covered by a black lampshade. As he watched in sheer fascination he noted that the adumbrated form did not bend and curve with the contours it slid across as a normal shadow would have. Instead it moved through the woods as if it were a physical being. At first he thought that it was a person. But then he realized that he could see the trees and brush through the figure as if he were looking into a fog. When the figure came closer stepping into the clearing that encircled the house Jack could swear that this was the silhouette of a man. To him this appeared to be a rather tall man of medium bulk. There were still no clear definitions of the face, or sharp lines to the arms or legs so it could still be a woman, though his intuition told him that it was a man. Jack watched the shadow figure walk straight into the brick wall adjacent to the corner of the house, and to his utter amazement the shadow wasn’t stopped by the structure. It disappeared into the wall as if it were being soaked into the very fabric of the bricks. He was momentarily stunned. He didn’t know what to make of what he had just witnessed. He was suddenly curious as to what had just happened. Had it gone into the house? Or was it just an apparition that had vanished into the night as quickly as it had appeared? He crossed the driveway to a spot a few yards across from the living room window but far enough away from the window to still be in the shadows. He could see into the living room through partially open curtains. A plump, gray haired man was reclining in a black leather recliner. He was half dozing, half watching, a big screen TV that sat a few yards in front of him. The scene looked too normal. For a long moment he was about to dismiss what he thought he had seen only a few seconds ago and credit it to his half-drunk state and an overactive imagination. Then it appeared through the interior wall, its somewhat hazy body like a reflection off of dirty glass. Jack felt as though as icy finger were running the length of his spine. He had a very bad feeling about all of this. The old man did not seem to notice when the shadow stepped directly in front of him. He continued to gaze at the television screen as though bored. Jack couldn’t understand it. The old man was looking straight at the shadow, but there wasn’t the faintest reaction from him. Couldn’t he see the gray, fuzzy outline standing before him? Or was it something with Jack himself? Maybe it was he who was seeing something that wasn’t there not the other way around. The shadow was still as though looking down on the man contemplating its next move. Then, slowly, it stepped forward bent down, and fell over on top of the man melting into the man’s flesh until there was nothing left of it. The old man suddenly flailed his arms wildly and pushed himself straight up in his seat gasping as if all the air in his lungs had fled. After only a few moments he fell straight down, his whole body as stiff as wood, to hit flat on his face. For the next minute the only sounds were the gentle murmur of the television and Jack’s own nervous breathing. He watched with a mixture of both terror and awe as the shadow came out of the man into a kneeling position on the carpet. Then, to Jack’s horror the shadow turned its blank, gray head to stare through the living room window. To stare directly at him. Luckily Jack was still in a darkened spot out of the rays of light that came through the living room window. Even so, he stood as still as possible in case whatever this was could detect movement from him. After long moments the shadow figure finally pushed to its feet. It turned away from the window and walked back out the way it had come. For several moments Jack remained frozen in place afraid to even breathe too hard. This didn’t happen he told himself. No, it couldn’t have! It was the alcohol. Somehow it was causing him to hallucinate. Yet, the old man was still on the floor. And now Jack thought that he could see blood trickling from the man’s nose, ears, and mouth.
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I just published a new book titled “Rifts”. It will be in print paperback in 2 to 3 days on Amazon and in ebook format on Amazon sometime this evening in US. Other countries will take a little longer. The entire process is both exciting and painful, from writing the book to finally publishing it. Writing is great when the words just seem to flow forth in a seemingly endless stream. Unfortunately, that is not always true. Some days I have to force myself to work, to reach into my head and just pull the right words out. In the end, however, it is great to be able to say, ‘I wrote this book.’ It is both a sense of great accomplishment, and relief that the book is finally finished. Publishing the book feels good, but it’s also frightening. If it is the first book you’ve written you probably think that it will be greeted with tremendous praise. You don’t see how anyone can see it as anything less. It’s possible that it could be as great as you think. But it’s not the norm. On the first book I think most indie writers see our stories as they unfold in our minds not as people actually see them on paper. But we are soon brought down to reality when the critics find faults in our stories that we never knew were there. But back to ‘Rifts’. I sought to make it the best that I could, but is it enough? It is a complicated story with a lot of characters. Originally it was to be one book, but it kept growing. Now I wonder if it will be seen as a well-constructed, intricately plotted story, or a string of scenes, bad characters, and a confusing story line. My thought is that it is somewhere in between, but it is difficult for me to judge my own work. I have to just wait and see what others think. The waiting is a pain in itself. When I first started writing I imagined writing as being this wonderful, magical thing. I didn’t envision all the work I would have to be doing. I guess I figured that some publishing giant would pick up my first book and handle the editing, the publishing, and all the promotional work. All I would have to do is sit at my desk a few hours a day and write. All the complaining aside I still love it. I make a few dollars off my books. I would love to make a lot more, but even if I don’t I can’t see myself quitting. I have to write. I’m addicted. Sometime within the next couple of weeks I hope to publish the first book of my novel “Rifts.” If you’ve visited this blog recently you’ve noticed that I posted a few chapters of the upcoming book. As I stated before there might be some changes in the story. And I was right about that. The book is undergoing editing right now and I expect it to be finished in a few days. So far I have a lot of corrections to make and the editing is not finished. This is an eye opener. It’s a little embarrassing, but when it’s all done I hope to have a great book.
I still have to develop a great cover. To be honest, I’m not sure what to put on the cover. I keep going back and forth on ideas. I started the year with big plans. I see them starting to develop, but like most things worth doing it takes time. If it all works out I’ll have a half a dozen great books by the end of the year. The next book after “Rifts” is published will be a tossup between the second book of “Rifts” (the actual title has not been decided) and “The awakening” a supernatural thriller. I have a police/detective series that I am working on as well. I’m not sure right now when the first book will be published. It depends on how quick I can write and how much free time I have. I have a little promotional thing for the end of the month. After that I’m not sure what direction I’ll take in promoting my books. My main objective at this time is to make the best books I can. I hope to overhaul the books I had put out some time ago. Nexus: Expanded Edition is the first book I published. It needs work. When I have time (not sure when that will be) I hope to go over it and see if I can make it great or if I just need to delete it. The doorway trilogy is a middle grade book. I’m not sure how to promote a children’s book. I’ll need to get more feedback on that. The coming of dark which has done very well with 25 reviews and a 3.8 rating had flaws that kept it under a 4 star rating. Good news on that. I had it properly edited a couple of weeks back. It’s the same book, with the same story, but much easier to read. Since the publication of “Rifts” is so near I will be deleting the “Rifts” preview chapters. When it is published on Amazon I will not be allowed to show previews on my site. Looking back over the last year I am somewhat disappointed. It wasn’t my best year as a writer. I could have done better. With that in mind I sat down and listed some improvements I could make for this year. For all the writers out there and those aspiring to be this may also be of benefit to you. I have listed these tips as if I am solely talking about others, but I wrote them primarily to help myself.
Four basic writer tips. 1. Be more sociable. A) Be active on Facebook. Show genuine interest in people. Let people know you’re a writer without pushing your books on them. After a time people will be asking you about them. B) Join a reading group and be active in it. For me it’s Goodreads, but there are a few others out there such as LibraryThing, and Shelfari. C) Post on Linkedin more often. It makes a writer more visible. If you’re not a member it’s a great place to meet other writers through one on one or through a writer’s group. D) Be more active on the groups I’ve joined on Google plus. You can set up your own site on Google plus. There are also writing groups to join. There are some that offer writer tips, helps, and even some will allow you to promote your book. E) Create better tweets on Twitter. If you haven’t joined you should. You meet a lot of interesting people there. You can also promote your book, but it shouldn’t be the only thing you tweet about. Be interesting first then people are more prone to look at your book. 2. Make better use of the time that you have. A) Cut down on the time spent watching TV and playing games as well as other non-essentials. For me I couldn’t cut out everything, and I don’t think it would be a good idea, anyway. Everyone needs a break to refresh their imagination. 3) Learn more. A) For me it’s learning about what I can do on the computer to enhance my writing career: Correct formatting for books and ebooks. Creating book covers, and much more. B) How to effectively use the Internet. Finding places to promote my books. Finding writing tips. Creating a better website. I could go on and on about the benefits. 4) Make better books. Everything before this is moot if you don’t have a book that people want to read. A) Seek original ideas. Read, read, read. Write, write, write. Get feedback when I can. Don’t be satisfied with “ok”. Strive to be better than everyone else. That’s a short list of goals for writer success. I hope they help. The review was first publish in Goodreads.
Karen Spellman, a young widow, along with her two daughters, move out of Los Angeles to the town where she grew up. She is there to marry her high school sweetheart whom she was reunited with at a high school reunion. After the wedding Karen and her daughters move into her husband’s big farmhouse. For a while all seems ideal. Then her oldest daughter, Julie, is stung by a bee and has an allergic reaction. At the local clinic she is treated for the sting, but she continues to get worse. As a last resort she is given a new drug. The drug works right away, but now something is happening to the daughter. Though she claims to be fine, she doesn’t feel fine. Something sinister is beginning to take over her free will. Julie infects her friends and soon she, and other children begin disappearing. Parents become frantic trying to discover what is going on. Finally a doctor uncovers some disturbing news involving the children. She believes she can stop the terrible thing that is happening. But will she be in time? This was an older book, but didn’t seem dated. It was well written and was very suspenseful. Having said that I will say that I enjoyed it, but was not crazy about the story line. That goes to my taste. I think the story was very good, but not top notch. I will give it a 4. I would love to wake up each morning knowing that I will have the free time to write. But a full time job as well as other responsibilities just doesn’t allow that. Unfortunately, the money necessary to quit my job eludes me. I would go on and on about this, but I suspect that there are many more indie writers out there in the same boat as myself.
Having started this blog in such a negative tone I have to admit that all is not lost. This weekend I hope to go over 90,000 words on my latest novel. I’m getting closer to finishing it though I suspect that I have another 20,000 words or more till it is complete. As far as the story goes I think it will far exceed my previous works. Others, however, may think it is more suited for the dollar store. The story is a mixture of genres’. The strongest is probably science fiction, and horror. There is a big piece of spirituality in it as well. The elements are not easily woven into the story, thus the reason for my ambiguous feelings toward the success of my manuscript. Besides the storyline I am putting a lot of effort into the creation of my characters. I want people to feel as if they know these people. I don’t want readers to see cardboard cutouts in their minds’ eye. I want them to see 3D pictures as if they were standing in front of them. I do hope to find a good balance in the action and the depth I put into the characters. I don’t want to go to the point of boring people. The tentative title of the novel is “Rifts”. I have a first draft written, but I’m continually adding to it as I write this current copy. If the manuscript should grow much more than 100,000 words I may even have to turn it into two novels. In that event “Rifts” might be only one part of the title. I can’t say when this will be published. There are too many variables. I will be looking at traditional publishers. If I get any takers that might change everything. Either way I hope to release a publication date when I know. I am considering adding a couple of chapters each week to my blog page to see what people think of the story. I just have to remind people that this is not a finished product. And since the novel is not completed I can’t guarantee that I won’t have to backtrack to make changes. Hopefully, the changes, if any, will be minor.
Click to sForever Odd by Dean Koontz
My rating: 5 of 5 stars I like Odd Thomas. He's a very unique, and loveable character. This is the second Odd Thomas book I've read and I was not disappointed. If you're not familiar with Odd Thomas you should know that he sees ghosts. Unfortunately the ghosts cannot talk to him. That means that Odd Thomas has to figure out what they want from him. In this story the ghost of a doctor that Odd knows is murdered and his son, who suffers from a disease that leaves his bones brittle, is kidnapped. Odd seeks out the kidnappers with his psychic power. Taking a circuitous route to avoid the kidnappers he finds the boy. But not all is what it seems. This is a very adventurous story. It is exciting, but not heavy. It is lighthearted, but serious. I would recommend this book if you like to be entertained. View all my reviews et custom HTML I received an email from best-selling author David Baldacci this morning. When I saw the “Dear Gary” I was instantly elated. Wow, David Baldacci is writing me as a friend! He must have read one of my books. Or, perhaps he heard about me from one of the book clubs. It was so exciting!
The fact is this whole thought process only lasted seconds. I knew this was just a form letter made to look personal, but a part of me didn’t want to admit it. I was kind of hoping that I could plug one of his books and he could plug one of mine. That seems kind of remote now. I wonder if I could find his cell phone number on the Internet. I could give him a call and ask him where he got me email address. As I read the email further I see that the email actually came from Goodreads. And, much to my dismay it’s actually an advertisement for his upcoming book “The Keeper”. I am given the option to pre-order it. I probably won’t. The book is recommended for those 10 to 110 and I am much older than that. But what the heck. Here’s the email. If it interests you contact Amazon to pre-order. And if you happen to meet up with David Baldacci tell him I said ‘hi’. Oh, and tell him he is welcome to recommend any of my books. Dear Gary, I don’t write about damsels in distress for one good reason: I don’t know any. Meet Vega Jane, a heroine who packs a mean punch, in The Keeper. The Keeper Vega was always told no one could leave the town of Wormwood. She was told there was nothing outside but the Quag, a wilderness filled with dark magic and death. And she believed it - until the night she discovered a secret that proved everything was a lie. Now Vega must find a way to cross the Quag . . . and survival might come at a price not even she is willing to pay. I wrote The Keeper and Vega’s first adventure, The Finisher, for readers ages 10 to 110. These are books to read for yourself, to give to your kids, or best of all, to read together as a Goodreads family. Keep turning those pages. David Baldacci From me: If you'd like to pre-order The Keeper from Amazon 'click' HERE. On the 18th and 19th of July my ebook “The coming of dark” will be free on Amazon.
Of the books I currently have out this is my most popular. It is not because it is a perfect book. It does have its’ flaws as I’ve book told, but the majority of people like it. Some actually love it. I think it is because it is fast paced with a mystery that is quite unusual. The central character is Detective Troy Dance. Detective Dance is left paralyzed after a shootout. But don’t confuse this book with a heartwarming drama about a man that rises above his handicap. One reviewer did and was disappointed when the story began to turn a little gruesome. This story is a supernatural thriller and may even be considered horror. I don’t want anyone going into this book thinking it is something that it isn’t. This book could also be considered a psychological thriller. This is related to Troy’s sudden handicap and how he deals with it. I could say more, but I don’t want to spoil it for anyone deciding to download the free book. I originally wrote this as a short story, but I kept thinking of new things to put into it and had to eventually make it into a novel. A couple of reviewers have called this book a Stephen King knockoff, though not in those exact words. It was meant as ridicule, but I kind of like it. Not that I have set out to emulate Stephen King. I would like to be known for my own work. If I am to be accused of copying anyone, however, it’s best that I’m accused of copying someone at the top of the industry instead of someone like Bud the unknown guy. My last two giveaways for this book has been in thousands of downloads. During this time I have spent no money on advertising only posting on free sites. This giveaway here, however, I have spent some money to be featured on a couple of sites plus twitter posts. I’m anxious to see how much of a difference this paid advertising makes. In any event if you like the supernatural (especially a lot of action and a twisted ending) I think you’ll like this one. Gary |
AuthorWhen I write a blog, I try to keep it relevant. Often it will be about writing and books. I also review books that I read. Archives
May 2024
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