Excerpt from BEYOND HADES – Due out Monday, 16th April, 2012
PROLOGUE
His collar was crisply folded and perfectly pressed. The four stars affixed upon the lapels of his jacket denoted his rank, but it was his steely gaze that proclaimed his power.
Workstations loaded with computers buzzed all around him, technicians working furiously at their posts, but the general didn’t even glance at them. His entire focus lay on the task at hand. Everything they’d been working toward had led to this point, and he would not allow anything to go wrong. Too much depended upon this.
“General,” requested one of the many scientists, interrupting his thoughts. “We are almost ready to power up the mechanism. Do we have permission to proceed?”
The general nodded slightly, his features not betraying his inner excitement in the slightest. The scientist scurried away.
“I have to voice my protestations again, General,” said the man beside him, an academic-looking figure in his early thirties, his hair short and dark, and his white lab coat creased from long wear. “This machine hasn’t been operated in centuries. We have no idea what it might do. The writings –”
“The writings don’t mean shit to me, Professor,” growled the general. “I want to see what this device does. This could be the greatest discovery mankind has ever known, and you’re here pissing in your britches when you should be over the moon to even be involved. You might go down in history as the one to unlock the instrument which led humanity to the next level of technology.”
“It might destroy the planet.”
The general stared at him blankly. “I have faith in our defenses, Professor. I think you should as well.”
“This machinery was shut down for a reason,” protested the professor, waving his hand in a sweep toward the enormous stone structures standing around the room, beyond the scientific equipment. “There is no clear reference as to what will happen in any of the writings. For all we know it might be a doomsday device, God knows they had the technology.”
“That is exactly why we must activate it. We need to know what it does and how to combat it. Can you imagine if there are more of these scattered around the planet? What if our country’s enemies found one and learned how to use it? How long do you think it would be until they turned it on us?”
“But General –”
“But nothing,” countered the general. “I need to ascertain if this device is a threat to the United States, and if so, we will either destroy it or relocate it to a more secure location. You have your orders, Professor. Turn the damn thing on.”
Muttering something under his breath, the professor moved compliantly to the enormous stone tablet, its inlaid inscriptions seeming to pulse with anticipation. They had determined months beforehand that this functioned as the equivalent of a control panel. One by one, he began brushing his fingers over the carvings, each glowing slightly as he did. He continued with this for several minutes, pressing different combinations until finally a low groan emitted from an area surrounded by monoliths similar to those located at Stonehenge. These stood nearly twice as large as the circle in Europe which had evoked so much conjecture over the decades.
The ground rumbled heavily and dust began to drift from the ceiling of the cavern. With a thunderous crack the monolithic circle erupted and flooded the area with light so bright all the surrounding personnel – including the forty heavily-armed marines ringing the outer wall – instinctively turned away, shielding their eyes.
And the circle began to rotate.
The light dulled enough for the workers to return their awed gazes to it, witnessing the breathtaking spectacle. The entire platform, including the monoliths, had begun to spin, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed, starting to buzz with a high pitched whine which echoed from the walls. More than one scientist appeared to cower slightly, but all held steady. This was what they’d worked so long for.
The stone monoliths soundlessly flashed out of existence in an instant, no trace of them left, not even a grain of sand, replaced by an inky blackness which seemingly sucked the very illumination from the massive floodlights. Visibility dropped immediately, a cloak of gloom descending over everyone in a heartbeat.
“Secure this room!” ordered the general. Huge steel doors slammed into the ground from overhead crevices, blocking the ancient entrances. The external ring of marines snapped into action, stepping forward and taking up defensive positions, primed weapons aimed at the swirling darkness. The general noticed the annoying Australian soldier step in close to the professor, but for once he remained silent, all his attention seemingly centered on the swirling blackness.
An eerie silence descended upon the area, breaths held in anticipation. The professor moved swiftly back to the general’s side.
“What’s going on here, Professor?”
His question met with silence, and the general glanced away from the swirling black curtain, staring down at the smaller man. Sweat beaded upon the professor’s brow, and his hands were trembling, absolute terror etched across his features.
“Speak up, man!” barked the general.
The professor tore his gaze away from the scene before them, turning haunted eyes toward the general. “I-It can’t be,” he whispered.
“What is it?”
The professor swallowed. “It’s a doorway. A rift.”
“A doorway? A doorway to where?”
“I didn’t think it was possible,” he replied, his voice trembling so erratically it seemed he might choke on the words. “I thought I’d misinterpreted what the runes said. It can’t be true.”
“Will you tell me what the hell is going on here? Where does this doorway lead?”
“We’ve opened a temporal split, General,” answered the professor. “It’s a gateway between dimensions.”
“What are you talking about, man? I need to know exactly where this thing goes.”
“The writings spoke of the machinery we’ve just started. They told of a power so immense it would unleash absolute evil upon the world if ever it were restarted. I assumed they were being metaphorical, that it was merely a weapon. I had trouble with a section which told exactly what would happen when the machinery restarted. The wording seemed open to a great many interpretations, but now I see it was, in fact, literal.”
“What did it say?”
“It told of the machinery’s ability to unleash something so horrible nothing on this planet could stand against it.”
An ominous lamentation sounded from the rift, echoing around the room, the flood lamps flickering in unison as though a surge of power followed the noise.
The professor assumed an expression of total resignation. “This machine is designed for one purpose,” he said, his tone neutral. “It opens a doorway into a place men were never supposed to go.”
“Where?” demanded the general. “Tell me where this thing goes.”
“Into Hell.”
Bestial howling roared through the cavernous room. The lights exploded, thrusting them into the bowels of darkness….
BEYOND HADES will be unleashed worldwide on kindle
Monday, 16th April, 2012.
Print version will follow very soon after .
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The Anticipation.
As some of you have no doubt realized, I’ve just released to an unforgiving world my latest child, a novel named BLACKLISTED. You can read all about this novel on my website if you’re interested. For now all I will say is it centers around the premise of using criminals to fight terrorism; a sort of fire-against-fire concept.
What I would like to discuss with you today is the anticipation of setting free such a thing to fend for itself. Sure, like any doting parent, I can watch over it in the hopes no harm befalls my child, but ultimately the readers hold its life in their hands. They alone can keep alive the dream I envisioned between those pages.
And such a thing is daunting to the extreme.
Any published writer will know what I mean when I say that it’s like sending a child through a daisy field where rabid dogs often roam. At any moment your creation can be savaged and torn to shreds by an unforgiving beast when it merely wishes to exist in the sunlight for a time before moving on.
The only way to protect your creation is to empower it with an inner strength which will shine forth against all odds, regardless of what assails it. Spelling and punctuation help, but they are like armor for the legs but none for the head; good characters are invaluable, but if left without direction they constitute a lance without a point . No, a surviving story combines many factors and a veritable rainbow of devices before it will even come close to enduring in the bitter wilderness of the reader kingdom.
Does mine contain this rainbow? I sure hope so.
But how does one truly know?
Like anything, the true test resides in the real world, not some assessment playground. Sure, I could give it to a test group of a million readers and get back a million glowing responses, but that still wouldn’t be true. For these people haven’t sought out my story of their own volition, haven’t paid out their own, hard-earned money to read my words. No, those testers are merely puppets constrained by rules. The real trial begins now, when my creation is set loose to live or die on its own worth.
Wish me luck!
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Fantastic video trailer for BLACKLISTED
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Rejection of a writer’s soul.
I remember rejection in high school, talking to girls and getting my emotions thrown back in my face. Regardless what they said it was always like a hand made of ice had clawed its way through my ribs and wrenched my heart from my chest.
This is so much worse.
Every writer trying to get published knows the anguish of rejection. It’s part and parcel of the traditional route – still the ultimate goal of authors despite the ease of the much improved self-publishing route. And in order to gain the interest of a big publisher, a writer needs a fantastic agent, but unfortunately these are in short-order and the demand is high; thus each person trying this route will ultimately feel the sting of what I speak – and it hurts worse than acid on your soul.
As a writer, you expose a part of your innermost self to the world, like carving open your flesh with a knife as strangers wander past, and they have it in their ability to either caress your wound or pour vinegar upon it.
A rejection letter is like drowning you in gasoline and lighting a match.
It never gets better, no dulling of the edges, no softening of the blow. If anything it becomes worse, each rebuff an axe-blow against your confidence, drawing inexorably closer to the one which will topple you completely. That’s why so few survive, why the successful number less than one percent of the hopeful.
And so the successful writer, indeed any kind of artist, is indeed the wisest fool; a true glutton for punishment. For each blow they push forward, for each cut they ask for more, until their enemy falls and they stand victorious atop the mound of corpses who fell where they stood firm, who gave up when they forged ahead, who changed course when it hurt too much, unable to stand the conflagration of their heart when their soul in words was not enough.
For me there is no question, no option of retreat. This is not something I do, it is what I am, and to give it up because of rejection would be like cutting off my legs because walking was too difficult. I am writing, it defines me and makes me whole, and eventually my words will reach those who matter. Not the ones sitting at desks or punching numbers, but the ones who will feel my song and understand it. They are my readers, my fans, my followers. That is who I write for, and I will not fail.
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A Progression of Cover Design.
To those of you who don’t know, due to circumstances beyond my direct control, there has been a major hold-up on the release of my second book, BLACKLISTED, and after something of a major crash it looked like things would be delayed even longer – if I hadn’t decided to take things into my own hands. I’ve chosen to bring out my second novel myself, and will be utilizing the same editor I worked with for THE DARK PATH in order to get BLACKLISTED out for those who have been clamoring for more of my novels. Also, in order to make up for the prolonged delays, I’m going to be initially releasing BLACKLISTED in all ebook formats for only 99c!!!
I feel so bad for people who have had to wait and just want to get more of my stuff out there as quickly as possible – without compromising the quality of my work. I’m not sure what the future of my other four completed novels will be just yet, but for now I’m focusing on getting BLACKLISTED out as swiftly as I can and am working feverishly to get it ready for you all.
It’s been quite a while since I read through this novel while it was under prolonged consideration by major publishing houses in New York, and I have to say I had forgotten how much fun it is. Stepping away from the tone of THE DARK PATH slightly, I decided to base BLACKLISTED completely in reality, with no supernatural themes, in an effort to cement my place as a high-quality action-thriller author. I have to point out it was not rejected by those houses considering it, and they were very serious houses indeed, but beyond that I refuse to make comment on the disaster which not only affected me, but several others as well. I may one day talk about it in the hopes of helping other new authors and advise them in ways to avoid what happened to me, but for now I just want to focus on the positive aspects of novel writing and that is satisfying those who enjoy my work. That is the most important thing to me, and I hope it always will be.
Anyway, back to the point of this post. I changed my cover art yet again today, and figured I might just post the several incarnations and ideas I’ve had for this novel along the way. The first versions were extremely clumsy since I had no idea how to properly use my photo-editing software to its full potential. I had to learn as I went. Descriptions of each image are below the picture.
This was the first cover I posted. The grunge American flag was something I wanted in there right from the start and the muscular physique of this image was kind of what I wanted to convey, but really wasn’t appropriate at all. The ugly face just looks stupid and scares the reader away instead of enticing them to read what’s inside.
After the debacle of my first attempt, I went completely to the other end of the spectrum and put together this boring piece of crap. For those interested, the pyramids are pertinent to the story and for those who are picky the swirls are part of the watermark on the test picture I used and wouldn’t have been part of the final art – but it sucked anyway and ended up in the bin almost immediately.
With this one I was starting too get the idea, but as a few of my testers pointed out it looked a bit too much like a gay-romance novel. Now there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not the right image when trying to promote an action-thriller like mine. Kinda like putting a picture of My Little Pony on a fishing magazine; it might look great, but just isn’t appropriate for what lies within the pages.
This was the one I thought would be the finished product, but it was pointed out to me that the torso floating in space was a little weird. After noticing this, it just became more and more evident to me until that was all I saw any time I looked at it.
This is my most recent version, a far cry from the original monstrosity which I remember thinking looked so good. Just goes to show how much you can achieve with the help and advice of others along with just a little bit of ingenuity. It might change a little bit as different ideas come to me and I polish it a bit, but this will almost certainly be the final cover.
Huge thanks go out to Jacqueline Remmers, Melissa Toms, Claude Bouchard, Troy James and Sarah Dougherty for their help and invaluable advice on this project, along with everyone from Twitter and Facebook who offered suggestions. I absolutely love the end result and could never have done it without any of you.
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