Tag Archives: Fantasy

Void of Power Blitz

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New Generation

 

Science Fiction, Fantasy

Published: April 2020

Publisher: Indies United Publishing House

The Void belongs to everyone and belongs to no one. Because of the Cultural War Treaty, the federal government or any agent under their control cannot enter the Void. Ruled for nearly sixty by gangs and drug cartels, the “settlers” of the Void must live by their wits and their skill at arms.

Raised by scientists who had been sequestered in an underground complex in the Texas panhandle, the Walsh family employs their genius and talents to forever change the quality of life for the citizens of the Void using technologies far beyond the imagination of ordinary people.

When government forces enter the Void on a capture-or-kill mission which has targeted two extraordinarily gifted children, they run headlong into this family of geniuses and Texas Rangers who dedicate themselves to protect the children. The feds soon realize that they are mice attempting to capture one very mean, intelligent cat. The stakes must be raised. Lives are lost. War ensues.

Void of Power tablet, phone, paperback

 

About the Author

Born in Houston, Texas, Andrew was raised in a family of seven brothers. Most of the action and adventure that dominated his young life was that which sprang from the imaginations of the brothers Raiford. Since there was no limit to the stories they could create through their play-acting, it was not uncommon to have Daniel Boone not only be attacked by bears or red-coats, but also Nazis and/or extraterrestrial conquerors. Imaginative eight-year-olds care nothing for history.

During his young adult years, Andrew took on some very odd jobs to keep his young family fed. For two years he was a real cowboy who rode and roped and pushed cattle on a large ranch nestled in the snow-capped mountains of northern California. After moving back to his home state of Texas he worked in the printing business as a journeyman pressman, and later in gun sales and corporate security.

Andrew even worked in church ministry for ten years during the period that he and his wife raised five talented children. They would later become the inspiration for Andrew’s first novel, Void of Power – New Generation, which surprisingly contains no Nazis or extraterrestrial invaders.

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Bollywood Invasion Blitz

 

 

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Fantasy, Alternative History 

 

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Brooklyn boy reincarnates as John Lennon in 1958.

Can he escape Lennon’s tragic fate?

Modern-day Brooklyn boy John Palmieri is hit by a bus, what a coincidence, and he wakes up as the prince of a royal family in India, 1958! In this distant past, where the Beatles does not exist, he finds love and sex, and eventually conquers the world with the Beatles’ songs in his memory. One day in 1980, he runs into a man named Mark Chapman and realizes that fate is pulling him towards something he knows is coming…but cannot easily escape.

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 Excerpt 

 

Intro 

Imagine you’re sixteen, and living in Brooklyn, being bullied by every kid who’s bigger than you. Then, BAM! You wake up as a young prince in 1958 India. Suddenly, you find yourself with riches and power beyond your wildest fantasies. This is how your journey starts in Bollywood Invasion, which uniquely blends Indian cultural experience, time-travel and the legendary songs from the Beatles.

Brooklyn is readily forgotten. Life becomes a constant stream of debauchery, coming to a stand-still only when you meet “the one.” However, love doesn’t come easy. You must become a better man and you decide to sing your way into her heart with the songs based on your memory of vintage Beatles music. One night, you come to the lawn outside her dormitory building to ask her out, for the last time…

Hey Raj 

Ankita! Ankita!” 

At eleven in the night, Ankita woke up to a familiar voice calling her name outside her dorm. “Not again!” she groaned as she crawled from under the covers.

Why don’t you write a song for me too? I am not that bad!” 

Ankita could hear the banter outside. She walked to the door but could not open it. Priyanka must be in the building, she thought.

Ankita!” 

Raj stood on the lawn exactly where he had the last time he was there.

I wrote another song, especially for you!” 

Ankita opened the door and saw Raj standing next to Arun with his acoustic guitar. “Raj, please leave,” she begged.

Not until you’ve heard this!” Arun started playing a tune on his guitar and the entire dorm fell quiet. 

Hey Raj, don’t make it bad …” https://youtu.be/vxv_6YDOqvs

He never took his eyes off her the entire time that he sang Hey You, his parody of Hey Jude. Had she always been this beautiful?

Hey Raj, don’t be afraid …” 

Who the hell is singing at this ungodly hour!” the matron shouted from somewhere. Raj continued to sing, not flinching at all. Arun, on the other hand, was not feeling as confident as Raj.

Raj, we should go!” 

I am going to break every single one of your bones, you rascal!”

Raj, run! She will catch you!” yelled Ankita.

Raj smiled. She cared about him.

He continued to sing.

 “It’s you again!” The matron was on the lawn now, brandishing a large broom in her hand ominously. 

Raj, we should go!” 

Keep playing! Na nanananana!” 

He started running, the matron after him.

I am done here,” said Arun and ran away into the darkness.

Na nanananana!” Raj continued to sing while running around in circles in the lawn, the matron closing in. Some of the girls watching the moment unfold started singing with him. “Na nanananana!” 

Raj, what are you doing?” yelled Ankita. “Go back!”

Na nanananana!” The entire dorm building sang.

I…love…you…Ankita!” he shouted as he ran, his breath running out. “Give…me…a…chance!”

I am going to break your legs, YOU RASCAL!” The matron flung the broom at Raj. 

Na nanananana!” 

For god’s sake, run! I will go out with you! Just once! Go now!”

The entire dorm building erupted.

I love you, Ankita!” said Raj as he broke into a run. “Na nanananana!” he continued to sing as he disappeared into the darkness. 


About the Author


Ricardo Alexanders is the author of Bollywood Invasion and The Last Resistance: Dragon Tomb. He lives in Massachusetts, enjoys music, and loves to write time-travel stories that blend fantasy, science, and real history.

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Shadows of Atlantis: Awakening Blitz

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Fantasy

 

Publisher: SOA, LLC

 

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Brigitte is an emissary of nature chosen to renew the treaty between Atlantis and the ancient bloodline of Lemuria. Her sacred betrothal would renew the function of the Crystal Grid that powers the ten kingdoms of Atlantis. But her people are attacked by a storm of shadows, and now she is running for her life.

Upon her arrival in the ruling city, she meets D’Vinid, a dejected musician who lives the quintessential Atlantean lifestyle of revelry, escapism and apathy. Under the eclipse of a holy festival marking the union of Atlantis’s mystical technology with nature, they are swept into an attraction they cannot resist. They become the embodiment of two gods whose union is meant to protect humanity from a deadly enemy – the Shadows of Atlantis. But this man is not her betrothed.

Brigitte discovers the Grid is corrupted by psychic parasites that feed off human suffering, a sweeping epidemic called “The Madness.” The rituals required to charge the Grid with psychic emanations have been poorly attended, and this has caused the Grid to malfunction. But as nature always strives toward balance, the crystals have activated a genetic upgrade, and the youth have begun to express supernatural powers. Could it be that Brigitte and D’Vinid are meant to be leaders among the awakened? And if so, why does it seem impossible for them to be together?

A mysterious tale of romance, seduction and betrayal that reaches just enough into the modern mind to ask – will we learn the lessons of Atlantis?

Shadows of Atlantis: Awakening hardback

 

 

About the Author

 


Mara Powers is a modern Renaissance woman, scholar, traveler, musician, producer and philosopher, all of which feed her writing. She has been researching the mysteries of lost civilizations since she was a teenager, a quest that has become a personal hero’s journey. She hails from the mountains of Colorado and the west side of Los Angeles where she spends her days wandering the shores of the ocean, dreaming up Atlantis.

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Gatekeeper Blitz

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Book One in the Daemon Collecting Series

 Fantasy

Date Published: October 6, 2020
 Publisher: Spark Press
 

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Rachel Wilde comes from a dimension that exists adjacent to ours. The people there have structured their society around daemon collecting: they locate, catch, and repair malfunctioning daemons (creatures out of phase with our world that tempt people to do good or evil). Now Rachel has been given two unusual assignments: 1) find a person who has been trying to break down dimensional barriers, and 2) track down a missing line of gatekeepers, human placeholders for a daemon that was too badly damaged to repair. Authorities of Rachel’s world believe the missing gatekeepers are descended from a girl who went missing from West Africa hundreds of years ago, likely sold into slavery. With no leads to go on, Rachel seeks help from Bach, a raving homeless man who happens to be an oracle. Bach does put her in the path of both of her targets―but he also lands her in a life-threatening situation. Somehow, Rachel has to stop the criminal, reunite a gatekeeper with her stolen past, and, above all, survive.

 

 

About the Author

 

ALISON LEVY lives in Greensboro, North Carolina with her husband, son, and variety of pets. When she’s not writing or doing mom things, she crochets, gardens, walks her collies, and works on home improvement projects.

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Gatekeeper Tour

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Book One in the Daemon Collecting Series

 Fantasy

Date Published: October 6, 2020
 Publisher: Spark Press
 

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Rachel Wilde comes from a dimension that exists adjacent to ours. The people there have structured their society around daemon collecting: they locate, catch, and repair malfunctioning daemons (creatures out of phase with our world that tempt people to do good or evil). Now Rachel has been given two unusual assignments: 1) find a person who has been trying to break down dimensional barriers, and 2) track down a missing line of gatekeepers, human placeholders for a daemon that was too badly damaged to repair. Authorities of Rachel’s world believe the missing gatekeepers are descended from a girl who went missing from West Africa hundreds of years ago, likely sold into slavery. With no leads to go on, Rachel seeks help from Bach, a raving homeless man who happens to be an oracle. Bach does put her in the path of both of her targets―but he also lands her in a life-threatening situation. Somehow, Rachel has to stop the criminal, reunite a gatekeeper with her stolen past, and, above all, survive.

 

Gatekeeper tablet

 

EXCERPT

p r o l o g u e

The pounding rain soaked through her clothes in seconds, Twashing away the blood on her shirt and hands. Her shoes were soggy and made her feet heavy as she sprinted through the city streets. Panting, she ran blindly, with no idea where she was headed in the darkness, only conscious of what she was running from. The adrenaline flooding her veins drowned out her grief. She felt nothing but terror. 

“Run!” The memory of her father’s final command rever-berated in her ears. He had shouted it at her as he grabbed the man with the knife. But she hadn’t run then. She’d still been crouched over her mother. 

_

THE UMBRELLA SHE held shielded the violent struggle from her view. She held her mother and wailed. 

“Mom!” she screamed. “Oh God, Mom!” 

At first, she begged—begged her mother, begged God, begged the red gush of blood—while she pressed her hands over the wounds, as if trying to force her mother’s life back into her limp body. Then, barely hearing her own voice, she began to apologize. She apologized for arguing with her mother that morning. She apologized for not studying for the exam. 

She apologized for sneaking out with her friends after curfew. 

She would never do it again. She was so, so sorry. 

When nothing she said triggered a change, she began to sob. “Mom! Mom!” The blood spreading over her mother’s green blouse slowed from a gush to a trickle. Her wet, red hands trembled as her eyes inched their way to her mother’s face. “Mom?” 

Rain beat down on her mother’s dull, unblinking eyes. 

Her chest constricted. She could only breathe in tiny gasps. The world fell away, reduced to a muffled blur, as she stared at her mother’s body. The wild pounding of the rain on her umbrella drowned out the rest of the world, filling her ears with a dull white noise. With every labored breath, she expected to wake up from this nightmare. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. This sort of thing happened to other people—

not to her, not to her mother. It was all a mistake. 

It wasn’t until her father shouted her name several times that she remembered the assailant. As she lifted her gaze from her mother’s corpse, the world came back into focus, and when she glanced out from under the rim of her umbrella, she saw two men locked in a violent struggle barely two steps away. Blood from a dozen red slashes ran all over her father’s arms. He had the young attacker by the wrist and was holding the knife at bay, but the man was fighting hard to get free. 

Only then did she realize that the killer wasn’t looking at her father. Far from concentrating on the struggle at hand, the lean young man was staring with heart-stopping intensity right at her. And his eyes were blazing with murder. 

Her broken heart pumped out cold terror. The umbrella slipped from her trembling fingers and fell to the ground; its dark canopy spun for a moment before it tipped onto its side and came to rest in a puddle. Her father bellowed at her again

—“Run!”—and this time she jumped to her feet. Jolted by the stranger’s glare and her father’s desperate shout, she bolted. 

TIME PASSED IN gasps and footsteps. She had no sense of whether she had been running for blocks or miles. As fatigue overtook her muscles, the memory of her mother’s dull stare overtook her mind. Soaked to the bone, she came to a stop, hot tears streaming down her face and mingling with the cold rain. 

Her mom was dead. This new reality of her life wrapped its long fingers around her brain and dug in its claws. 

She let out a pained sob and sank to her knees. Through heavily blurred vision, she glanced around, barely registering the tightly packed old buildings and cobblestone street. She stared vacantly at the distorted reflections of the streetlamps’ 

glow in the rain-stained sidewalk. The illuminated water flowed into the cracks between the paver stones and over the edge of the curb, draining into the road. It looked like a painting that had been splashed with paint thinner and left on the wall to run and drip. The storm beat down upon her. Her tears streamed through her long, unbound hair as she wrapped her arms around her torso, giving herself the hug she would never again give her mom, and let out a deep moan. 

A car sped past, its headlights barely penetrating the downpour, and splashed a puddle over her. She was so drenched that she hardly felt the water, but the noise of the vehicle brought her out of her mournful trance. 

Still shaking from exhaustion and misery, she got to her feet and looked back the way she’d come. The rain and her tear-filled eyes made the world a dark, wet haze. 

“Daddy?” she called out. 

As far as she could see, she was the only living soul on the street. She squinted against the storm and took a few steps in the direction of the scene she had fled. 

“Daddy?” she said again. 

The only response she got was the drumming of the rain. 

For the first time, it occurred to her that she might have lost both parents in the same night. Even when she had seen her father struggling with the killer, she’d never once thought that he might die. Her father—a large, strong man—was invincible in her eyes. She couldn’t fathom that he would ever be beaten by anyone, especially a man threatening her life. What out-come could there be but that he would fight off the stranger and then come to rescue her? 

But he hadn’t come. 

Her grief was suddenly overpowered by fear. Without her father, she had no family left. Without him, she was alone. 

“Daddy!” she shouted as she started to run. “Daddy, where are you?” 

A shape came out of the night, shuffling through the puddles, obscured by the curtain of rain. She hurried toward it, her desperate mind filling in the details of the outline until it looked like her father. 

It wasn’t until she was a few strides away that the truth asserted itself and she skidded to a stop, arms flailing and eyes wide. The man was too young, too tall, and too lean. It wasn’t her father. 

The stranger’s murderous gaze locked onto hers again, and he lifted his knife. She opened her mouth to scream, but mortal terror choked her; all that escaped her lips was a squeak. In the light of the streetlamp, the killer smirked. 

She pivoted on her heel and scrambled away like a mouse that had just stumbled upon a coiled snake. At the far end of the block, she spotted another man and headed straight for him. 

“Help me!” she shrieked. “Help me, please!” 

The short, heavyset man turned in her direction, and she felt a flush of hope and relief: she had been seen. She glanced back at her parents’ murderer and saw him walking, almost casually, toward her. 

“That man!” she yelled, pointing. “He stabbed—” 

With her eyes on her pursuer, she never saw the blade that slid between her ribs. 

On the ground, gasping like a fish on the floor of a boat, she stared up at the pitch-black sky. Pain radiated outward from the stab wound in her chest and encompassed her entire body like a cocoon. The storm pelted her with its emotionless tears and washed away the evidence of her wound even as it oozed from her veins. 

Two men appeared on the edges of her vision, her parents’ 

attacker and her own. Their unfamiliar faces peered down at her with identical, bland expressions. 

“Just the girl?” asked her assailant. “Where’s the other one?” 

“Dead,” the younger man replied. “Husband, too.” 

Daddy?  A fresh wave of pain seized her body; lava-hot tears scalded her eyes. 

“This kid’s the last one, then.” The older man leaned over her and squinted down through a pair of glasses. “There should be more of a dent in the dimensional barrier by now.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the young man said through a yawn. He scratched at his neck with the hilt of his knife. “‘Dimensional barrier,’ ‘last one’—nothing you people say makes much sense.” 

“Just answer me this: Is there anyone else in the family? 

Another daughter? A sister? An aunt?” 

“Both of the parents are only children and this girl’s their only kid. I killed every other relative on the list you gave me. 

The whole family’s a dead end.” 

The whole family. 

Her eyes swayed from one man to the other and then to as much of the world as she could see from where she lay on the street. A blaze of light cut across her vision, accompanied by the sound of tires slicing through puddles. She opened her mouth to call for help, but as she drew breath, blinding pain shot through her torso and quashed her voice. The car drove up the street without slowing. The two men showed no sign of concern at its passing. 

“If she’s the last,” the older man said as he carefully scanned the area around her bleeding body, “then there’d be a breach opening up about now. But there’s not.” He sucked air through his teeth and shook his head. “Fuck.” He took out his phone and, leaning forward to shield it from the rain with his body, typed a message. “There’s another one somewhere.” 

“Another what?” 

“Gatekeeper.” 

“More weird terminology,” the younger man griped. 

“Whatever. You want me to kill someone else?” 

“Doubtful,” the older man said. “We did a very thorough search of this branch of the family. It’s more likely that the gatekeeper we want is abroad. We’ll get someone to find her and then send another one like you to finish the job.” 

“Another one like me?” The younger man chuckled. “How many murderers are on your payroll?” 

“Too many,” the older man replied with obvious disgust. 

The wiry young killer snorted and casually waved his knife in the older man’s direction. “If you people don’t like it,” 

he said, “then do your own dirty work. Or are you above that sort of thing?” 

“Clearly not,” the older man said, and she saw him nod down at her. “Just because we dislike violence doesn’t mean we aren’t prepared to do what’s necessary.” His phone chimed and he looked at the screen. “Our world needs to change,” he said as he typed, “even if that means that yours has to burn.” 

As he put his phone away, he glanced down and briefly locked eyes with her. She gasped and tried to turn her head to avoid his eyes. He quickly looked away. “She’s still alive,” he said to the younger man. “Take care of it.” 

Daddy’s not coming for me, the girl thought as the man leaned down with his knife in hand. No one’s coming for me.  

The blade that had killed her parents hovered before her eyes. 

It was shiny and clean. It should have so much blood on it, she thought. How can it be so clean when it’s killed so much? 

The knife flashed in and out of her sight. She knew he was stabbing her, but the pain was like a distant echo. Blood loss had left her body numb; she felt hollow and cold. The two men vanished from her dimming sight. She vaguely heard them talking about the weather as their voices retreated. 

Her eyelids were heavy, but she stared up at the black sky one last time, wishing there were stars. A primal voice in her mind whispered for her mother one last time before she closed her eyes and finally let go.

About the Author

 

ALISON LEVY lives in Greensboro, North Carolina with her husband, son, and variety of pets. When she’s not writing or doing mom things, she crochets, gardens, walks her collies, and works on home improvement projects.

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