Deleted scenes from "The Last Overseer"

These 3 chapters were difficult to remove from my novel but I felt that in doing so, I improved the pacing of what is otherwise a very long novel. It's never easy for someone to delete a scene from their work, and so I provided them for your reading pleasure here. If you plan on purchasing my novel, it wouldn't hurt to read these chapters first. They can serve as samples and they can familiarize you with the characters without giving away any spoilers. They mostly consist of back information and you can read them here without worrying about them slowing the pace and tension buildup in my story! 

 

(deleted scene #1)

"Pillagers"

When Charlie swam back to shore, Charlie knew there were people nearby because could smell the sweat of the people who traversed through the area recently. Charlie swung his duffel bag around and stuffed his snorkel and mask inside it. He didn’t even bother taking off his flippers; they were more comfortable than his sneakers.

After he put away his scuba gear, he hopped out of the water and then froze in his tracks after taking notice of the muddy areas of the street— where the slabs of tarmac were missing. Charlie noticed that they seemed to be deeply rutted by wheels. Sort of like the wheels of a horse carriage or wagon, he had figured. Charlie followed the tracks all the way up to a couple of salt stained, half-eaten homes— only to meet the gaze of two craggy looking men, who were indeed guiding a mule driven wagon. They were all garbed in ripped clothes, and were as thin as stick figures.

Charlie thought it would be best to find another route; the last thing he wanted was a confrontation. The men however, seemed to have opposite ideas, and began to divert their heading towards Charlie’s direction. Charlie turned around after five steps in order to see if they had continued on their path, but they began following him instead.

Charlie chewed his lip—

Another bunch looking for trouble...

The rich moon light fell upon the faces of his assailants, and Charlie could see the cunning curiosity in their faces. Their mouths were slack, and their tongues stuck out of the side of their mouths like hungry coyotes. When Charlie turned the corner on Pine Street, he quickened his pace, but he didn’t feel like running because of all the weight he carried.

The salty sea air stung and watered his eyes, but he kept them wide without blinking and soon enough, he began hearing the creaky wheels of that wagon again. The two men turned around the corner of Pine Street with sauntering steps, one of them moved more slowly because of the mule, but the mule was being whipped on its behind to encourage it to quicken its strides.

 The two canyon dwellers were surely on a mad foraging crusade judging by all the stuff their mule was lugging. And when the powerful blue moon light shone on the wagon’s contents, Charlie saw that it was packed with everything from bales of coyote pelts, buckets of fish, caged chickens, and bundles of dandelion greens. Several pairs of boots and sneakers were draped over the mule’s neck by their shoelaces and a stack of linens and clothes completed the pile on its saddle.

These men are pillagers, not foragers! Charlie was sure of it.

The fear subsided once Charlie thought of the innumerable things he could do to such gauntly looking men, if his spirit was prompted to do so of course, but he hoped that they wouldn’t get brave on him. They weren’t imposing at all, and seemed to be blemished by travel. As gaunt and thuggish as they looked, they did not seem particularly equipped for fighting and so Charlie took it easy and slowed his pace enough to get within an earshot of the two stragglers.

After a minute or so, one of them cried out to him—

“Find anything good”? Said a tall dark Hispanic looking man with a lumpy face and a southern American accent. Charlie turned around and swallowed, “No...Nothing worth mentioning”! Charlie began, forcing himself to disappointment. “I wasted nothing but time” Charlie’s voice echoed through the crumbling suburb, but got through to the men who were just one hundred feet behind him.

“That just sucks” Said the other man, who was lighter skinned, and spoke with an east coast accent. The man was short but had a strong nose and jaw, and he looked skinnier than his Hispanic friend, and much more sickly looking than the Hispanic guy. A fierce beard hid most of his splotchy flaking skin, and the boils on his nose were like strawberries. The other man with the Hispanic accent was straight and skinny, wiry but muscled, and with almost no body fat.

“That’s kind of strange that you didn’t find anything out here in these parts” The Hispanic guy said.

“Yeah— not too many got to this area yet” Said the other guy.

Charlie forced a lie, “Bad luck today, I’m going to have to go back out there tomorrow, my flashlight is getting dim” Charlie added in a friendly tone, but the men still stared with wide eyes and began to stare at each other in silence, communicating with their eyes. Charlie knew they were looking to rob him. He sensed their energy levels, and the tone of their voices suggested they had lots of adrenaline running through their veins.

Charlie hoped they would change their mind and give up their inquiry, but they actually began moving quicker instead. Charlie simply stared at them for a second or two, and his plain mouth quirked into a remorseful grin.

 “Good luck in your search gentlemen” Charlie grinned, scuttling away from them at a faster pace. However, the men matched his pace and continued their pursuit. The men whipped their mule until it protested, and after the mule stopped, one man stopped to guard the wagon, and the other Hispanic guy continued to follow Charlie.

  “I see you got a bag full of items there” The Hispanic guy said as he followed Charlie. Charlie slowed and eventually stopped. He pointed his flashlight in the man’s direction and aimed it on his face.

“Oh, nothing you would be interested in” Charlie started with exasperation in his words, “I just found a couple of shoes in one of the homes in the water out there” Charlie replied but he didn’t bother forcing a smile anymore. He knew he wouldn’t get rid of these men unless he outran them or fought them. Therefore, he just stopped and waited for the man to get closer. When the Hispanic man in the red bandana approached and got to Charlie, he poked his wooden staff at Charlie’s duffel bag, which was half-zippered shut because it was so full. His snorkel and flippers poked out of it.

“If I had some of that fancy scuba gear you got there, I might check it out” The man said unceremoniously and in broken English. He then emitted the most ghastliest and slimiest of smiles. His teeth were as brown as the sand they were standing on.

“Run you’re stuff” He said coldly. When Charlie tried to walk away, the Hispanic man skipped over to him and cut him off before brandishing a dagger. As ragged as he seemed, there was surely nothing ragged about his blade.

“We’re going to need those batteries in that flashlight of yours my friend” the Hispanic man said, using his staff to knock the flashlight out of Charlie’s hands. Charlie lurched at it before it rolled down the street, but the stockier guy gained ground and intercepted the flashlight with his boot, stopping its tumble.

“Now, now, easy my friend, we don’t want any trouble now, we just want you’re supplies and we’ll get on our way” He said as he unscrewed the flashlight and pocketed the batteries.

Charlie pressed his lips white from a rush of anger and his face darkened considerably. “Look mister” Charlie said with a calm but assertive voice. “If you are wise, you will turn away and forget you ever saw me. Or you’ll regret it”

The Hispanic man let out a mirthless laugh before he shot back, “It’s two against one. And my man over there has a samurai sword with him”!  

Charlie wasn’t intimidated by the steel in his hands. He knew how fast he had gotten ever since his transformation and so he thought of a plan. He considered attacking, but knew that if he did, he would kill the men because Charlie only knew one speed when fighting, and that was kill-mode or nothing. Once his adrenaline leapt in his veins, he knew he would wind up ripping their throats out and unless they attacked him first, he would not fight. For that reason, he figured it was best to run.

Charlie noticed a patchy grove of woodland that stretched ahead of him near Hector Street and he thought he might lose the men if he ran through there. Charlie tightened his toes and bolted for the grove on Hector Street, hoping his speed and stamina were enough to leave him out of their line of vision— hoping to vanish into the foliage.

 He peeked over his shoulder and saw the men’s continuous attempt to pursue him, leaving behind their mule and their wagon too. Charlie’s duffel bag weighed a whole lot and it slowed him down but he still kept a safe distance between him and his assailants. Charlie’s long powerful legs were like big pistons, his muscles really responded to his will when the adrenaline surged through his veins and after ten seconds or so, Charlie found himself a good two or three hundred feet away from them and he vanished into the grove.

When he got inside the wooded area, Charlie’s boots thrashed through the corn grass, and realized he was making too much noise in there. And so, he slouched near a dense area he could no longer penetrate. He parted the grass so he could see, but could not see the men so far. All he heard were their footsteps from afar and they got louder and louder as they drew near.

 Charlie scanned the area and found a better place to hide right near a boggy spot where some wild roses grew amidst towering thorny hedges. It was dark in the woods, the moonlight was speckled due to the trees but Charlie could see very well in the dark. He brushed aside and parted the hedge on his left. Still, he couldn’t see over the tall weeds but he could sense the men and their gnawing hunger as they ran towards the woods.

 Eventually, the men appeared at the grove’s entrance. Both looked out of breath, they were doubled over with two hands on their knees; and after catching their wind, the Hispanic man cupped his hands on the side of his mouth and craned his head forward as he shouted—

 “Pit Bull, he’s somewhere in the woods! Go get him”!

Suddenly, the definitive sounds of cracking twigs and crunched leaves indicated that it was no animal behind him this time, but instead, something heavier that loomed before him. A familiar scent hit him too, and Charlie wrinkled his brow as he tried to place the smell, slowly turning around and following its trail. It reminded him of the rotting flesh of that mutant he killed the other day and Charlie finally took note of its soundless approach. He swiveled to his right and there it was, a shape standing in the dry brush near the old decaying tree trunk just two hundred feet away.

The shape was standing on a hilly ridge towards the middle of the patch of woods and he had been scouting Charlie for the entire time. It stood silhouetted against the moon’s glare that hung low in the sky and Charlie sensed the appalling stench of this repellant hulk cut right through his nostrils. One thing Charlie was sure of, that this was no ordinary canyon dweller. This thing was beyond mutated, and even though the darkness of the night obscured it, Charlie could see his decrepit features when he changed his angle and stepped into patch of the dappled moonlight.

The creature’s face was splotched with oozing spores, and looked half eaten. His limbs were bony and he was so skinny that his ribs seemed to protrude through his skin. He had the most demoniac eyes Charlie had ever seen, and parts of his lips were completely eaten away. He had some of the sharpest teeth too, and Charlie had never seen such a set of fangs on a human being, It was as if the hulk’s canines didn’t fit in his mouth— they just gleamed in the moon light and whenever he would open his mouth to breathe, he snorted out puffs of vapor with each breath.

Suddenly, the man began to shriek and the mountain of muscle charged towards Charlie’s direction. Charlie assumed a shooter's stance and waited in the dense corn grass so he could form a counterattack, but Charlie underestimated the creature’s trajectory and speed, and before Charlie readied himself, the thing came darting in at him and bulldozed right through him, sending Charlie off his feet and onto the ground, landing him flat on his face.

Charlie spit out the rich soil in his mouth and sprang to his knees, but the impact knocked every wisp of air from his lungs and he struggled to inhale. Before he got his wind back, the thing confronted him again, and a shrill, screeching purr came out of its uncouth mouth as it beat its fists on its chest like an ape.

Charlie reached for the knife on the side of his belt and charged, before taking a swipe at the creature, but the creature dodged it. The acrid breath of the creature could be sensed as Charlie sailed by him. He almost stumbled and fell from the momentum of his swipe but he kept proper footing.

All he heard was cheering from behind him—

“Get him Pit-bull” Was shouted repeatedly.

    The disgusting creature then took initiative, and charged once again. This time, Charlie was ready for his uncanny speed and used a scissor-leg takedown, wrapping his legs around the man’s fibula. He straddled over the man, holding him down and thought about stabbing it. Instead, he threw his knife away into the bushes.

No honor in stabbing an unarmed...man.

He could not use the knife, even if the thing was no longer a man. Charlie continued to squeeze his legs around the creature’s torso and pinned it down. In their attempts of slaughter, both Charlie and Pit-bull let out inhuman snarls and growls that echoed through the woods. Charlie’s voice deepened from the adrenaline and the creature kept emitting that shrill, weird cry that Charlie heard before. The creature was ferocious, much more ferocious than any of the men Charlie had faced a week ago, during the attempted mugging. Pit-Bull endeavored to reach Charlie’s throat with its talons for fingernails, lashing violently towards his throat, but Charlie bobbed and weaved away.

He then risked freeing one arm and grabbed the creature’s throat and squeezed hard. He noticed the creature's eye change in appearance, and its struggles were lessening. The creature began to drool more and Charlie watched its infested spittle drip from its razor sharp fangs, it was surely tiring. With a surge of adrenaline, Charlie shimmied close to the creature, and began pounding on his face. Charlie’s own face was dangerously close to the creature's gleaming fangs and so were his fists.

As Charlie punched him, Pit-bull tried catching the fists with its mouth so Charlie stopped hitting him in the face or he would lose a hand or two. Charlie clenched his teeth and buried his hands around and into the creatures neck, squeezing as hard as he could on his windpipe, and noticed that the creature’s outer layer of skin begin to break and bleed. He fought the repulsiveness of it all, and then, with a surge of adrenaline, Charlie pulled on its neck, using every muscle in his broad shoulders and thick arms. Charlie could feel the spine collapse and splinter behind the creature’s flesh. With a final pull, he tore its muscle and the entire head came off.

Charlie craned his neck away from the neck stub, since it was spurting blood and he didn't want it to absorb in his mouth or eyes. The creature twitched for a few seconds, and then expired. Charlie threw its head on the ground, and immediately trudged over to the other two who initially tried to mug him, and this time, he was angry and determined.

“Get over here”! Charlie growled out towards the grove’s edge, locking eyes with the men.

The two men recoiled further away from the woods after witnessing Charlie’s terrific onslaught— seemingly in a state of shock. The stragglers were smitten by the red mist that swam before Charlie’s eyes, their jaws went slack and their eyes were wide with fear. The men continued taking nervous steps backward but did not run. They were almost paralyzed somehow. Charlie’s gaze penetrated the minds of the two men; it was as if he unleashed pheromones into the air.

 “You will drop that bag and go about your business. Take your mule, your wagon, and go”! Charlie growled, still staring at the men with a more piercing stare.

The faces of the men turned ashen gray after that and they wasted no time retreating towards where they had left their wagon. They knew Charlie was of a higher caliber predator then themselves and slunk back into the shadows whence they came from.

Charlie grabbed his duffel bag, walked out of the grove and fixedly headed towards his safe house. He never bothered looking over his shoulder anymore. 

(deleted scene # 2)

The Tabloids

The meeting ended quicker than he thought it would and Brennan didn’t have to be at his station for another three hours. However, he was so worked with emotion that he could not sleep after going back to bed. Instead, he decided to pace his quarters after his daughter Elena left for school, and did so with a jerky quality in his movement, gesticulating with flailing arms and daydreaming the entire time.

He decided to prepare a quick breakfast to help take his mind off the mission. He sifted through all the pre-packaged stuff in his refrigerator, tossing aside all the boxes of In-Vitro meat, including packages of the Trans-ham Petri-sausages, test-tube tuna, tank-steak, laboratory lamb-chops and beaker-bacon. He then reached for a small carton of Sirian chicken eggs and took out three of them. As he prepared his bowl and skillet, Brennan forced himself to whistle a tune as he turned on the steam, which hissed quietly out of the stovetop.

 He almost cracked one of the eggs too hard due to his overwrought nerves, and he dumped more than a handful of grated goat cheese into the egg mixture due to a lack of attention. He then poured the egg mixture into a skillet and began to cook it. He almost left them on the stove too long after drifting off in thought, but the loud sizzling snapped him out of it. When the egg yolks were firm, He put a dab of sour cream and chives over them, with a sprinkle of cayenne pepper imported from Titan, one of Saturn’s moons. He was so preoccupied with his new mission that he failed to notice how pleasing the dish looked.

 Brennan collapsed himself on a posh moon cow leather recliner in his living room, near the observation deck. He peered out of the view port window into the void of dark space, losing himself in the infinite mass of cold, vigilant stars. Instead of the usual orange juice, he cracked open a can of ale to compliment his breakfast to help subdue his jittery hands. However, Brennan realized that beer wouldn’t solve anything today. Brennan took long, healthy gulps of ale, and pulled his thin strands of hair from his sweaty brow to he could rub his temples. He was so stressed that he bit his fingernails until they bled and he even took pieces of skin with them.

 The thought of returning to Earth made him shift in his seat and he couldn’t eat or drink because his stomach was in knots. After a little while, his eggs stiffened up cold and his beer lost most of its carbonation. All the vague, horrific memories of post apocalyptic Earth tucked in the back of his mind morphed into imminent ones.

 His thirty year old marriage ended when his wife Anna was killed after falling into a sinkhole that opened up under their bedroom just a day before the first Earthquake hit New York City. However, unlike some, most people died slowly from radiation induced cancer. At least, Brennan felt some relief that his wife Anna died quickly, and was spared suffering. Billions of people died slow deaths over a span almost two years. The cancers stemmed from high concentrations of solar radiation, due to the constant barrage of coronal mass ejections that had slammed into Earth’s compromised magnetosphere.

He tittered nervously in his chair, and was oblivious to the sight of the gorgeous Eagle Nebula before him, failing to take notice of the nebula’s beautiful crimson patches billowing in his peripheral vision. He was too busy thinking about his abject days on Earth. Especially the thoughts of the day the news and radio finally went dead, and when he realized that the electricity would never come back.

During that time, Brennan and his family had no clue that the Earth nations disbanded and were without their operating governments. People were left in the dark ages and after the media and electricity went dead, and anarchy was born. The anarchy subsided after a few weeks because FEMA stepped in and dumped ration caches in random parts of the globe from EMP proof helicopters. People who lived in rural areas had it easier, since there was so much wildlife. In New York City, things were different. Without a supermarket to depend on, living off the urban land was impossible. Six months before finally getting a spot in a FEMA camp, Brennan continued to live in his mold-ridden home with Elena, hunting squirrels and pigeons. Most of all, they relied on the FEMA drops for survival, until the visitors showed up.

Almost two years after the last of the Earthquakes and storms, the ships came pouring out of the unknown depths of space with no warning at all. Orion corp. overseers made contact with several of the political delegations remaining on Earth on behalf of their corporation, and they did so with no hints of ever descending from one of the many gleaming ships that hovered above Earth’s major cities.

The first thing the Overseers did was reconstitute the electrical grids in several of Earth’s most populated cities— including the city of New York. The Overseers would then announce their proposal for humanity on live radio and they offered to recruit as many survivors with them up into their ships.

The proposal was a bad idea, because it created too much competition. Brennan could almost hear the faint sounds of men and women begging to be saved, however, little did they know that the Overseers had created a VIP list. The first of Orion corp.’s shuttles landed in designated shopping mall parking lots and began taking their chosen ones, offering them a new life amongst the stars and most importantly, an opportunity to leave the radioactive planet Earth.

The overseers spoke at the United Nations at first, before getting the radio waves going again and resorting to AM radio broadcasts to reveal which VIP citizens they had chosen to work for them. All VIP members would take their families with them of course and ever since Brennan was taken, currents of guilt flowed through him, after the thought of abandoning so many friends, co-workers, and even the grave of his dead wife. Brennan wondered if any of his friends were still alive. The likelihood of seeing them again was the only thing rousing him to visit his sordid home planet again, but judging from the remaining population figures on Earth, Brennan figured that they were undeniably dead.

The lesser skilled survivors weren’t so lucky to be picked to live amongst the stars. Brennan remembered what happened after the last broadcast when off the air. Many of the poor and middle class survivors rioted and protested afterwards, until of course, it was discovered that Orion corp. would cure their radiation poisoning. All non-VIP survivors were relocated into major cities so they could be treated all at once and at a faster pace. Everyone accepted the medical care with open arms and they were cured almost instantly. No one cared about going to live in Orion starships after their treatments, except for the occasional Science Fiction fan here and there.

 The ships would have probably taken more people into space but Brennan figured that Orion corp. had no need for non-skilled workers. Besides, too much violence ensued because of it and so Orion stopped their recruitment program. People stabbed each other and stole each other’s identities just for a spot on a ship, and after a while, Orion made their announcement that their ships were full, even though they only took a few thousand people up into space.

Orion admitted it might have been a bad choice to disclose their existence to the masses, especially since it was so obvious that they have been watching Earth humans for so long. Luckily, world leaders had almost no way of retaining their power after the catastrophes, because the power outage lasted for almost two years. It didn’t matter though, because no one would have taken their elected officials seriously after learning of the extra-terrestrial presence on Earth. Orion was quick to admit that they have been watching Earth for a long time, but never admitted exactly how long. When Orion finally showed face, no one could believe it at first even though it was depicted in science fiction for so many years.

Brennan had taken it hard after learning that the unsteady sovereignty of the Earth leaders had ended. Local and federal governments would form up here and there, and they would still keep some dominion, but they were all just puppets. When it came down to the more solemn international dealings, then the absolute decisions had conceded out of human hands and were put into the hands of Orion ambassadors and overseers. Most notably the newly appointed overseer of New York City, a Draconian military man from Alpha Draconis B named Colonel Jirral Jasso, who would soon declare himself as chief overseer of the entire planet Earth. Additionally, he would be the last of the overseers to keep an eye on things until Earth rebounded to the point of setting up self-sustaining economies and governments again.

Apparently, the president felt useless in the post apocalyptic world, and only the Orion overseers could offer food, electricity, shelter and medicine that the people so desperately needed. Militaries remained disbanded one year after the final Earthquake hit, and many soldiers remained in AWOL status in order to take care of their families, caring very little about their military duties. As a result, Orion corp. immediately infiltrated Earth’s entire social and political infrastructure in no time at all, and the visitors faced no hostility from anyone.

Many conspiracy theories came afterwards, and many people, including Major Brennan, knew that it seemed all too strange that these Orion ships knew exactly where to land- and knew exactly where Earth’s major cities were. On top of all that, the overseer knew how to speak English in a most idiomatic way, as well as a dozen other languages.

Brennan figured that Jirral Jasso’s  English, Spanish, Japanese and Russian was so perfect that there just had to be a long standing connection between Earth and these Extra-terrestrials that must have gone back as far as the 12^th century. Brennan remembered all the wiles, protests, and questions that were aimed at the new overseer right before the masses were inoculated. Almost all of them went unanswered of course and they were all were futile anyway. Nevertheless, the conspiratorial questions ceased immediately after the inoculations.

 Brennan figured that everyone was just thankful enough to be cured of radiation sickness and glad to have jobs handed to them. Not only did the conspiracy theories subside, but also, the crime rates went down considerably. People were stripped of their debts, given new jobs and a new monetary system was established. Everyone accepted the visitors as their benefactors and everyone soon found that it was all too straightforward to gain their trust.

Brennan just sat there on his moon-cow leather recliner, thinking and daydreaming. Earth was so fresh in Brennan’s mind that he figured it was a good time to read up on current events over there. Brennan fired up his tablet and browed through the news sections of Earth news websites and old tabloids. Brennan’s brow remained furrowed from the sight of all the headlines that scrolled across his screen, his black, hard eyes flicked back and forth very rapidly as he read back issues of what remained of the tabloid sites. Most of the articles were written during the time of the catastrophes and he couldn’t help but shed a few tears after reading them. Brennan cried after seeing so many wrinkled, water logged people laying dead over the barren, water swept streets of Earth after the sea claimed them all. Those who thought they were lucky to have survived would eventually die from the radiation sickness, and in a sense, they were the unlucky ones because they suffered before dying.

God surely was a rigid individual he thought, dismissing God as hearing impaired to everyone’s prayers. The catastrophes ruined his relationship with God because of the colossal dread Brennan dealt with.

After ten minutes of reading, Brennan decided to visit the newer websites that specialized in galactic news— news from all of the civilized planets owned by Orion corp; including Earth. Brennan speedily tapped the glass on his tablet as he browsed the archives with a peculiar curiosity, curious to know what happened on Earth in the last ten years and he came up with nothing but the most demoralizing of news.

He then came across the article that reported the three recent murders that took place in New York City.

“The first murders in ten years” Read the headline.

“First murder on Earth in ten years”

Yet, Brennan could not help but wonder what finally made a particular person snap, or a whole group of people snap if it was indeed more than one killer. He figured it was the radiation. He could remember how he felt when his mind began to wither. He lost control of his emotions and had trouble with being reasonable at times. After some more web browsing, Brennan became hysterically agitated from a particular article he had read that was published on a Draconian website titled –

“Intergalactic cultures”

His fingers began to tremble as they slid across the glass on his tablet, and had become breathless by the time he got to the last paragraph. He was just shocked to read such discriminating journalism towards his home planet Earth. He skimmed through the article with nervous eyes. He almost closed the website from frustration but kept reading about the reasons behind Earth’s nickname as the planet of war. The article explained on how Earth contained one of the few ten thousand year old civilizations that still failed to develop a one-world government. The lack of cohesion on Earth was the main reason why Brennan had to endure the most of cruel prejudices every now and then while living in space. Many insults were occasionally thrown his way, and Earth humans were routinely referred to as monkeys by the more prejudice Draconians. He would hear their wisecracks as he walked through the Niagra’s halls every now and then.  

The readings made his fingers twitter as he tapped his tablet, and found a website published out of planet Gliese, Earth’s so-called sister planet. Undercurrents of shame hid beneath the pang of excitement after reading a particular article about Earth’s stagnant civilization. There was some truth to the article after all and Brennan knew he was in denial. In the last ten years, there have been no scientific breakthroughs on Earth or any hints of civilization bouncing back.

Brennan’s eyes darted from headline to headline that read—

“The problem starts with Earth’s citizens”

“Apathy a problem with Earth people”

“Uneducated children on Earth rumored to be 80%”

Brennan read on and on about the abortive state of Earth’s space agencies. He then read that the electrical grids were still prone to power outages and terra forming the planet back to habitable conditions was stagnating. Brennan then checked the status of the galactic market, and he wanted to confirm the drop in Orion corp. stock, and like Clarkson had told him on the phone, it was most likely due to the ongoing civil unrest that was taking place on Earth and its endangerment of being classed down a letter.

The Orion group was named one of the top five corporations in the Milky Way this past year, mainly due to all the Class C celestial bodies they own, including planet Earth— Orion’s most prized possession. Earth was one of Orion’s top commodities due to the abundance of resources and mining opportunities, ranging from the abundance of crude oil, Uranium, Plutonium, Platinum and especially Iridium. Earth was also a rare gem of a planet with an unparalleled amount of crude oil and natural gas. Earth was a precious planet for Orion, although the Draconians would never admit it.

After flipping through some of the archived news articles in his tablet, Brennan’s age old questions about these ancient aliens within Earth society had resurfaced after reading several articles he found on the Sirian internet. Brennan began to recall the time the people of Earth were told that there was indeed a bit of philanthropy involved with Orion corp. and the people of Earth. Brennan was aware of the story involving a couple of Orion scientists that went rogue shortly after they defected to Earth in the early twentieth century. These Draconian scientists thought it would be a good idea to take some advanced technology and introduce to the Earth people. They figured they would be considered gods if they did so.

“Like Prometheus, who brought fire to the people” Brennan said in a half whisper. He had no hard feelings towards Orion corp. because only a handful of rogues broke protocol. One day, on the Niagra, several Draconians told Brennan that the Overseer routinely stressed the consequences of doing such a thing, and Orion corp. had penalized any rogue scientists that dared to intervene in primitive cultures too much. Just like tales of Prometheus, who was cast out of the heavens for doing exactly that.

Brennan was so alarmed by such news at the time,  that he brought it up in an email he had sent to General Clarkson. According to General Clarkson and the table of twelve, Orion corp. went as far as only assisting Earth science, not re-shaping it with inventions that would ripple through society. They never sought to conquest Earth or any other planet industrially and economically. Many considered their deeds philanthropic, but criticism of the alien intrusion on Earth became widespread over time. What scared Brennan the most was the fact that several rogues were never accounted for and many Earth born conspiracy theorists claimed that these rogue extra-terrestrials were responsible for creating the Nazi-German war machine on Earth.

The Nazis had always intrigued Brennan even though he fought in a war almost eighty years after WW2. Many of Brennan’s colleagues have said that this machine never died after WW2, and instead, it continued on and on, growing and growing and spawning into a countless amount of black ops agencies. Including RAPDA, an organization he worked for after he retired from the army, and that was way before the visitors officially made their presence known.

It all led to a theory that the Nazis may have been utilizing advanced alien technologies toward the end of WW2. Brennan wondered if these conspiracy theories were just inclined toward paranoia, but at times, he too had wondered if there were alien things Hitler’s scientists and aeronautics engineers might have been developing. If there was any existing potential that any such craft or other technologies might have somehow continued on, it surely occurred very carefully behind the scenes of mainstream science. On the other hand, Brennan had figured that while he may never know to what real extent Nazi scientists may have been influenced by Orion corp.  or other extra-terrestrials— in projects that dealt with such things as anti-gravity, E.M. field propulsion systems, Torsion technology, and other highly advanced technology.

Again, the questions Brennan kept asking himself regarding the entire Nazi UFO conspiracies were never answered.

How plausible was it that technology as advanced as what was described in modern UFO reports could not only have been developed here on Earth, but were already in existence by the end of the 1950s? Or according to ancient astronaut theorists, as far back as 1950 B.C. for that matter?

 Brennan wasn’t sure. No one was. Brennan did know one thing though. That in just 150 years, the Earth civilization went from horses to jet planes, and from spears to electromagnetic pulse weapons. Thousands of wars on Earth were fought the same way for thousands of years, with cavalry, swords, shields, arrows and spears; until WW1 came around. It was around that time when technology began progressing at an uncanny and rapid pace. And wars never ceased afterwards. Not for over a century, not until mother nature put an end to them in 2033.

This speculation caused Brennan to relive his battle scars, not the ones on his body, but those in his psyche. The rogue extra-terrestrials might have been responsible for the Nazi war machine or not. Most of Brennan’s military success came after World War 3 in 2029, while working for a secret covert intelligence agency on Earth called The RAPDA agency, and at the time, Brennan had no idea that RAPDA was actually sanctioned by Orion corp. for all those years he had worked for them.

The RAPDA agency stood for the same thing DARPA stood for, except the words were switched around, which came out to— “Research Advanced Projects Defense Agency” The other difference between the two was that RAPDA used pre-existing alien technology. Brennan was always aware of the magnitude of RAPDA’s scholarship and virtuosity, its tantalizing glimpses of knowledge and technology largely remained untapped by civilian corporations. Brennan always knew that he worked for an agency with immense intellectual power, and he always speculated whether or not an extra-terrestrial corporation sanctioned it. Of course, he got his answer a decade ago. Nevertheless, he always suspected it; many people did, and when the obvious became clear, the overseer’s secretiveness became an obsession for many people.

However, the people’ faith in the overseer and his altruistic deeds were enough to free them from their doubts. Still, somewhere in Brennan’s subconscious mind lurked speculation. He didn’t know every single one of Orion corporation’s motives for saving humanity.

Such thoughts had caused Brennan to keep his head down disconsolately, and a permanent rueful expression was fixed on his face as he browsed the internet on his tablet. Brennan thought and pondered all morning, and had lost track of time until his bedroom alarm clock went off, causing his consciousness to dawn upon him. After catching a glimpse of his grandfather clock in the living room, Brennan sprang up from his moon-calf recliner and gasped at the sight of the time. It was 0700 hours cosmic time and he had 10 minutes to report to duty!

(deleted scene #3)

Back Home

 After soaking in the sight of the moon lit sky, Elena set down her backpack after seeing a cozy looking bench by the side of a cute little pond just off the bike paths. She adjusted the time on her tablet to Earth time, and plopped her tired self on a park bench to continue her meditation. She took long laborious breaths and held the crisp night air in, savoring the natural oxygen. The percentage of oxygen content on the Starship Niagra was higher than the oxygen levels on Earth but she didn’t care. She appreciated the stuff that emanated from whatever healthy trees remained. Her nose tingled from a strong wind that brought in the hopeful smell of the few pine trees that still lived along the perimeter of the park and she really enjoyed the soft melody that was sung by the residents of a pond just ahead of her. The croaking and chirping could only be made by toads, frogs, and crickets, she thought.

Planet Gliese didn’t have the bio-diversity that Earth had— or its glorious moon and starry night sky for that matter. She smiled at the site of the moon’s reflection on the pond’s rippled water; it sparkled like stars where the lunar beams hit it. The moon appeared much larger than most of the moons of other Earth-like planets, especially those of planet Gliese, which were nothing but large, quirky looking asteroids.

The Earth’s moon was actually a planet, perfectly round, and as majestic and soothing as she remembered it to be. Elena just loved the moon ever since she was a kid because unlike the merciless sun, the moon could be stared at and was a sharp contrast to the dark, night sky; completely dominating it even though it only borrowed the throne from the sun. It commanded the water of the Earth still as well as Elena’s own body and mind.

Elena sprang up from the bench and took enthusiastic steps to the fence near a bike path, completely burying her feet in the soft loam beneath her after she took off her shoes. She thought it was great to feel the grass on her toes again and almost became paralyzed with astonishment after staring at the misty woodland of Central Park. The view in front of her was a sight that would otherwise appear as eerie on any other day, but not tonight. Tonight the scene was beautiful to her.

It wasn’t until well after 3am Earth time that she realized how late it had gotten and she didn’t even begin her search for a hotel yet. Besides shelter, she needed to find a diner or a bagel store really soon or her stomach would split in half. It was so dark in and around the enveloping streets that she decided to wait until morning— and as she continued to encircle the pond, a noise from afar had arrested her attention— and so she followed the thrumming sound of a nearby generator.

The sound came from just down the footpath near a small grove of honeysuckle and so she continued to draw near to its source. When she got to the source, her nose tingled from the trail of cinnamon that preceded the source of the thrumming sound, which was a generator that powered up a cute little 24-hour coffee cart near the Central Park FEMA camp’s main entrance.

A sign on the stand said—

“Sol Credits only”

 The stand only sold coffee and muffins exclusively to those with Sol credits, catering to the space elevator dockworkers and space tourists usually. The man behind the cart was a mustached fellow with bushy eyebrows that complimented his thick whiskers well. He greeted her silently with a smile, and waited for Elena to decide as she stared on the menu posted on the outside panel of the cart.

“Two banana nut muffins and a tall Jamaican coffee— double sweet, double strong” She said.

The bushy eyed fellow nodded and flung two muffins into a paper bag before pouring her a steaming cup of coffee. Elena slid her SOL stick three times on the nearby credit slider in order to complete her 3 SOL purchase and opened the paper bag as it was being handed to her. She wasted little time consuming her two banana nut bran muffins and coffee in a most avaricious manner. The moist buttery taste of the dough, combined with the brittle walnuts and raisins sent a shudder through her mouth and throat, all the way down to the hollowness of her belly. She drained her cup of coffee in less than a minute while she ate, stopping her bites until her mouth could not hold anymore.

After her snack, she noticed a pink hue outlining the southwest horizon and thought about beginning her quest to find a hotel because the sun began creeping up. After she walked through the park’s main gate, Elena noticed that the statue on Columbus circle was no longer there; and the roads and sidewalks were still cracked like they were just after the Earthquakes hit.

The fact that Orion never re-paved the streets fueled her curiosity to see how far the stagnation had gotten, and so Elena walked until she reached the West side edge of Manhattan, where the water-damaged areas still remained.

A large sign dangled from a chain link fence that blocked the passageway to Eleventh Avenue—

“Red District. Structurally unsound. Keep out”

The chain link fence could not evade her, and hopes of finding a hole or a break in the fence was useless because there were none. After trotting down vine encumbered Rector Street, much of what she saw looked the same as she left it over a decade ago and the terrain was almost impossible to traverse.

Crumbled and mossy masonry blocked the street and sidewalks at times, and the lack of a strong, afternoon sunlight made it difficult to see what was in front of her. She plunged blindly down a cracked road; the paving was irregular, sometimes in slabs, and most of the time sprouting nothing but quaint looking greenish-grey vegetation.

The visitors never even cleaned up the place after they landed just like the promised!

All she saw was rubble piled up along the Hudson River’s outlying streets. The apartment buildings there were severely damaged and Elena could not believe they didn’t just topple or crumble to the ground judging by the looks of them. Every corner and avenue was still damaged from the storm surge, and the streets have pined quickly.

Elena let out a lungful of tense air and began to wonder—

What ever happened to Orion’s matter dissolution devices? Couldn’t they simply alter the atomic structure in all the rubble and turn the solid matter into gas? Just like they promised they would do during their cleanup proposals! Why aren’t the people complaining!

Seeing her home planet in such as state of neglect infuriated her. Her curiosity to see just how stagnant Earth’s rebuilding had become just made her want to see more with her own eyes; so she latched onto the chain link fence so she could scale it.

Suddenly, some sporadic sounds of barking dogs in the distance caused her to stiffen up, but she continued climbing until she swung a leg over the top of the fence, but then, she stopped after seeing movement ahead of her.

A throng of swaying figures appeared near a parked car just a hundred feet ahead of her. They were apparently rummaging through abandoned parked cars but did not notice her. From that moment on, Elena jumped back onto the sidewalk from the fence and thought she should head back towards the park and find a hotel. The sight of those things was enough to stifle her curiosity.

She walked almost mechanically due to the new throb of fear that rippled through her after seeing such ghastly faces— and even though she did not see the details, she saw that they were pallid, and were all covered in oozing lesions. Their faces were so grisly enough in repose that Elena forced herself to walk quicker.

I thought Orion cured everyone of the radiation sickness....

When she got back to Columbus circle near Central Park, She was about to head to a nearby hotel when she heard what seemed to be over a thousand voices. It seemed to be coming from some more haggard looking people, however, they were not as mutated as the two she encountered in the red district and they didn’t have a sinister look in their eyes either. At least most of them were decent. Most of the people had sturdier frames, despite their ghostly white complexions.

“Aliens go home” was written on most of the picket signs they were holding.

Elena’s eyes turned to golf balls after reading them. She sprang ahead with quicker strides and headed towards the tumultuous crowd, heading towards Central park. After tracking them for a few blocks, a tight ball of indecision weighed down Elena’s stomach. She was tired, but she had to know what these protestors were up to, and so— she trudged forward and decided to figure out what all the cacophony of conversation was all about.

At first, she became a bit repelled by the vagrancy, but the paltry lot of vagrants got her attention. The lot of vagrants seemed to get the attention of not only her, but most of the morning commute too. People parked their cars, and tied up their horses, and some commuters even abandoned their bus stops. All sorts of people then began following the crowd. However, some of the motorists on the street drove past them as if they were not there. Elena noticed that some of the civilians were acting strangely.  Some people walked around inanimately, choosing linear paths to get to their destinations, looking undismayed and oblivious to the procession of protestors. However, she had no time to reflect on the various worker-class citizens because the lot of vagrants were beginning to shout—

Aliens go home! Aliens go home!

 

Superman: Red Son (review)

Superman: Red Son by Mark Millar
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

One of the best graphic novels I've ever read, and I put this one up there with "Watchmen" as one of the best. "Red Son" is a great piece of alternate history, where Superman lands on Earth 12 hours earlier, in Russia, and eventually grows up and becomes Stalin's right hand man.

Eventually, Superman stops following orders and does what he does best...the right thing--even though his actions seem to conflict with his own government. Superman winds up being next in line to succeed Stalin, but politics aren't his thing. He just wants to live his life as a worker and supporter of humanity.

Throughout the book, Superman faces many enemies. The biggest one is Lex Luthor, who collaborates with the CIA in an effort to create an anti-Superman deterrent. Superman winds up becoming big-brother himself, and begins building robot spies and even Brainiac himself--who helps Superman run the world via various catalogs of stats and occasional advice. The result is essentially a Utopia, where everyone works, and no one starves. However, many pro-communists remain to stifle Superman's new social vision, and of course, Lex and his fascist supporters don't like the idea of a Superman running the world...so like always, Lex tries to step on his toes.

Eventually, Batman shows up...who is not the Batman we know. In this book, he's a terrorist, and he works for Lex. Other than Batman's revamping, writer Mark Millar throws another curveball with Green Lantern, who happens to have arrived via the 1947 Roswell Crash. After the ring chooses Hal, Lex Luthor employs Hal and his Green Lanter corps. to take down Superman...and the result is one big, wild climax, that pits 3 of DC's biggest heroes against each-other.

All in all, a 5/5 stars...the writing is excellent. This is writing that challenges you to think and may even change the way you think. And did I not mention the art? The style is beautiful...and sort of resembles "propaganda art" from the 1940s. If you don't read graphic novels, make this your first !

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I interview author, LaTorre Mays!

I had the opportunity to interview a fellow peer of mine, who happens to write some of the most intriguing paranormal horror stories I've come across in quite some time. His name is LaTorre Mays. His books are The Darkened Soul saga. (Photo above) As part of our effort to cross promote, I decided to interview him, and so come and join us for this interview and get to know him and his books!

AT: So LaTorre, what made you decide to become an author?


LaTorre: Ever since I could read and write, I kept to myself. Other than Saturday morning cartoons, you were most likely to find my nose in a book. Narnia. Neverland. Oz. Prydain. Those were the places I wanted to be. Those were the things I loved. Then around 4th grade, I got into the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and it just took off from there with me writing these little scripts that my librarian let me display in the school library.


AT: Describe your writing process. Are there any rituals or routines you go through before hitting the keyboard?

LaTorre: Ooooo...where do I even begin? LOL!!! For me and writing, usually it depends on what I'm working. I tend to let ideas fester in my head for a while...whether it is months or even years...because I start to put it to pen. I begin with characters sketches to get me more of a feel for some characters. I also mentally start to plot out where the story is going. I have the plot points, but my characters take over along the way. If I feel that I am having a hard go at it, I still start to outline to get a stronger structure to work with. When I am working on a novel or short story, I write when I can. When I'm on the trolley heading to work, on break at work, on the trolley home from work. Definitely, like my coffee so it's not unusual to find me either at Starbucks or a coffeehouse with fast internet. Then I tend to sit for an hour minimum writing. I don't do a set word count when I write, but I do like to write 10 pages a day or barring that a chapter a week. Did I mention coffee? That's usually all the routine I need before I sit and start writing. That...and a good pencil. I'm old school so I write down what I am writing before I type it up on my laptop, different genre of music in my ear. Trance. Pop. Progessive house. Rock. Ballads. Soaps.


 AT: What advice would you give to any aspiring writers out there?

LaTorre: Follow your bliss. Whether it is just one sentence a day, do what makes you happy. You will be surprised how just one sentence a day can translate over a period of time to a novel.

 Just write.

 AT: What inspired you to create the Johnathon, the main character of your Darkened Soul saga?

LaTorre: Uh...I just need to make a brief correction. While Jonathan is definitely the focus of the next book...a novella...I am working on, my main character of the saga is Daniel Westberg. What inspired Daniel? Well...he came to me one day while I was working on another novel that was just a coming-of-age YA novel. I saw this man standing on a ledge, wanting to kill himself. And while I tried to ignore the image in my head, focus on the novel I was working, it was so strong and I was so curious about why he would be on a ledge, that I stopped. I stopped what I was working on...and listened to the story he was trying to tell me. There are several of my friends who had read the first few drafts of Darkened Soul who felt that Daniel was me. One even apologized because she thought that I was brutally harassed in high school. In a way, I guess there were parts of Daniel that were me. I definitely in my life have known loneliness and isolation as well as dark times so that is a natural draw to me. The parts of the self that are hidden. The undercurrent.

Now to just mention him since I do mention him a lot as of late, Jonathan is a secondary character in Darkened Soul. In fact, he says my favorite line in the whole entire novel. It's a line which resonates with me very much. As did his conversation that he has in the novel with my villain Ursula. It was due to that exchange that I wrote a short story She Walks in Shadows (which is on www.facebook.com/darkenverse ) as well as started to write a novella Jonathan's Tale due to there was such an undercurrent to him that drew me. This jolly Nosferatu who in these small moments showed there was a sadness to him involving Ursula and I wanted to see what it was that ultimately separated them.


AT: So what can we expect from LaTorre Mays in the future?

LaTorre: Wow. For now, I'm working on Pieces of a Darkened Puzzle which my novella Jonathan's Tale will be the main part for. It's going to be a short story collection that hope will get readers used to this little dystopia world I created. It will have old short stories that I already have posted online as well as new stories made for the collection that flesh out the world. One of them is even a sequel to a short stories I posted called One or the Other dealing with magicks in this world. I hope to have the ebook out in December...and maybe hardcover as well.

I also am working on having Darkened Soul out in hardcover around the same time as well.

As far as writing beyond that, there's the Darkened Soul sequel Darkchilde that I am going to work on for Spring 2014 dealing with a character very close to Daniel. I like to mix my genres and which it will still have some of the themes in the first book, it will have a love triangle of sorts at the center and a slightly different story structure from Darkened Soul.

I also want to try my hand at a fantasy trilogy, one of the books I want to try at Nanowrimo in a few days. Unless I change my mind...LOL.

AT: Well LaTorre, I really enjoyed having you on my blog, you seem like a very passionate and talented author and I thank you for being a guest on my blog. I wish you all the best on your endeavor and I hope to read more or your work in the future!

For any of you out there reading this, be sure to check out LaTorre's websites below, as well as the links to his books!



LINK:

AUTHOR PAGE: www.facebook.com/writerguygothic

BOOK PAGE: www.facebook.com/darkenverse

BLOG PAGE:  http://www.tumblr.com/blog/someplace-that-is-else

DARKENED SOUL ON AMAZON: http://www.amazon.com/Darkened-Soul-ebook/dp/B00DY5JMIE/

My review of "Her Sweetest Downfall" by Rebecca Hamilton.

Her Sweetest Downfall by Rebecca Hamilton
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

An enchanting, magical tale full of mystique, imagination and a unique twist on Romance.

Her Sweetest Downfall is a prequel to The Forever Girl series, but could be read as a standalone book. The story was structured in the traditional model, with a beginning, middle and end, so no cliffhangers here! Which was satisfying.

The story opens up with Ophelia, who wakes up one day with "Mark of the Serpent" on her neck--a painful wound that winds up being more than such. On her way to deliver a letter, she encounters a man named Ethan, who informs her that their encounter was not by chance and soon enough, Ophelia learns that the Mark of the Serpent is a sign of a calling...a call of duty, to work for the Universe! I was immediately hooked after the first few pages, and the mystery never lets up either.

Ethan guides Ophelia on her journey, who is on the brink of a new spiritual awakening and doesn''t know why. Everything is thrown on her ever so suddenly, and I felt the character struggle with her new sense of purpose as well as her newfound fears and abilities. As she embarks on a world previously unknown to her, she begins to encounter odd-worldly beings, called, Elementals, who take on the traits of Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind. Rebecca Hamilton imagines characters and locales so rich, her writing is superbly detailed and I could sense the characters breathe on the page, and I could feel the atmosphere that felt straight out of a Tim Burton film.

Throughout their adventure, mistrust creeps in around the peripheral, as Ethan's true motives are uncertain; until the latter portion of the story of course. His ability to abstain from forming an emotional attachment to Ophelia contributes to this mistrust, as Ophelia is thrown into a mission, a mission that winds up being about one of the most fundamental of all our journeys in life--the mission to find ourselves, to find our purpose in life, and most of all, to find the answers to the question of all questions-- what it means to be human.



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Interview with Rebecca Hamilton- author of The Forever Girl series !

 Rebecca Hamilton is the author of The Forever Girl series, tales of Paranormal/Fantasy and Romance. She is a prime example of self-publishing success, her novels are highly acclaimed and she has garnered many fans who cannot wait for her next book--Including me! When Rebecca offered to do an interview as part of her blog tour, I was honored, so please do take this opportunity to get to know Rebecca and her work. 

Anton:  

So what made you decide to become an Author? 

  
 Rebecca: 

Truth be told, it started off as a bucket list item. “Write a Book.” Check. As it turns out, it’s hardly that simple! Writing is addicting. 

Anton:. 

 Please tell us something about yourself, especially how you came to love vampires, witches, ghosts, and the paranormal in general. 

Rebecca: 

Great question! I am not really sure what spurned my interest in the paranormal. I’ve always just loved it in film and movies. Maybe because it’s an escape—anything is possible. I am not a religious person, but I suppose there is some part of me that wants to believe in something “bigger” than life. I don’t think witches or vampires or real, but I guess it’s just fun to pretend for a little while. Ghosts, on the other hand—well, either they are real or the mind can play some amazing tricks.

Anton: 

What inspired you to create Sophia, the main character in your Forever Girl series?

Rebecca:
  
The Forever Girl series has several big characters, each with their own story to tell, but Sophia I suppose would count as the “main” character of the series, as she is the only one who we continually re-visit throughout the series. She, like most of my characters, just “came to me”. I start writing and let the character reveal themselves to me as I do so. The only thing I really knew before I started writing about Sophia was that she is Wiccan.

 Anton: 

 Do you have any specific rituals or routines that you follow before writing? Many readers such as myself, always love to ask their favorite authors what their writing process consists of.

 

Rebecca: 

I always write at night, when the kids are in bed. I play music, usually through my playlist created on grooveshark (I make a new playlist for each book). And in the actual writing process, I just . . . write. I see where it takes me. I write down ideas for future plot points and events, or sometimes I start to map out the rest of the story, but my characters are always changing things on me.

Anton:  

What advice would you give to other aspiring writer's out there? 

Rebecca: 

Persevere. Never give up. I really believe this is the number one key to any author’s success! I shiver to think what would have happened if I had given up on my writing. My life would look so different now, and I rather like the way it is  

Anton:  

What can we expect from Rebecca Hamilton in the future? 

Rebecca: 

Later this year I’ll be releasing a co-written paranormal horror story with Riley J. Ford called Circus of Lost Souls. I’m also in the editing process for Come, the Dark (book two of the Forever Girl Series). Finally, I have a literary fiction novel on the backburner and I plan to resume working on another two paranormal horror stories with author R.P. Kraul; I’m pretty excited about these. 

 Anton:

Well Rebecca, once again, I thank you for the time to conduct this interview, it's been my pleasure.To those who joined us, If you are interested in learning  more about Rebecca or the Forever Girl series, please make sure to visit Rebecca's websites listed below. She'll be partaking in various blogs over the course of November and there’s a list of blog stops and activities listed over on her BLOG, complete with opportunities to win prizes! 

Rebecca's BLOG : http://www.paranormalfantasybooks.com/

I discuss what motivated and inspired me to pen my debut novel, "The Last Overseer"

The Last Overseer by Anton Troia
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I'm not going to review my own novel, but I'll write a brief essay on what inspired me to write it.

I've always asked myself questions regarding the state of our civilization on Earth and its technological stagnancy. Sure, we're living in a world connected- plugged in by social media, confused by the blurs between CGI and reality, and of course, we're all linked by our handhelds. However, most of our technological advancement is in the toy department! The combustion engine is dirty and has outlived its usefulness. We have failed to discover some of the universe's physical laws that would help heal our planet, and if the planet can't be healed, then we're kinda screwed because we haven't developed a space program yet that would lead us into far space, and potentially solve our over-population problems.

And so I asked myself. What are the dangers of progress? And what are the dangers of no progress? Are we headed towards something Orwellian? Or something that Gene Roddenberry envisioned with Star Trek over 50 years ago? And most importantly...is humanity progressing or regressing? And why not? Why yes?

The answers to these questions can be speculated upon in my very first and very latest novel, "The Last Overseer" Expect a good blend of science fiction, paranormal horror, dysfunctional romance and the ever ongoing tug of war between science and ethics. Whilst the novel was written to entertain and be mysterious... it was also designed to make the reader ask themselves- why? and what if? What repercussions will the high tech. future of tomorrow have on our ecology? And also, what effects will it have on our psychology, physiology, political system and social structure? These are the questions I try to answer in the Last Overseer, all while wrapping them around with a high octane chase story!
Also, If zombies are your thing, then you'll enjoy this novel for sure. The setting takes place in a very near future, where both zombies and vampires must receive a cure or face imprisonment.

And so- if you do decide to read my novel, do so with caution! Side effects include bouts of intense paranoia due to psychological nudity!

Happy reading !

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My review of "The Wolf Gift" by Anne Rice

The Wolf Gift by Anne Rice
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

(Review re-written after I went back and re-read some parts of the novel)

The Wolf Gift really pulled me in, but it quickly lost steam after the inciting incident. It's not exactly a page-turner, but, it was a relaxing read and a perfect book to read in bed at night just before bedtime. It's easy to put down at anytime, because very little happens in this book. Don't get me wrong, Anne Rice's writing is a joy to read, and the atmosphere of the Nideck mansion and surrounding woodland is described in such rich, pristine prose. But sometimes a book can get overly descriptive. I mean, I felt as if Rice described the same bedrooms over and over again, and spent whole pages describing the furniture of a house in the later chapters, when she should've focused on pacing the mystery. Then, another gripe worth mentioning is the action scenes. There were far too many hunting scenes, where Reuben, the Werewolf, ventures out in the woods to hunt animals. This might satisfy the gore-junkies, but I think the hunting scenes were repetitive and served as filler material--henceforth, ruining the pacing of this story.

I recommend it though, to patient readers, who don't mind slow, dramatic buildup. It really pays off in the end, especially if you are interested in the science of Werewolf-ism or Lycanthropy. Anne Rice gives her take on the origin of the myth, although with a bit of fluff and sugar coating, but I liked what she was implying and felt as if some of her characters had a hidden meaning behind them and were rooted in real world history. I highly recommend this book to anyone who loves philosophy as well.

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