Tag Archives: Supernatural Suspense

The Soul Collector Blitz

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The Soul Collector cover

Dark Fantasy, Supernatural Suspense

Publisher: Story Bound Publishing

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As I lay trapped inside this quiet realm,

My soul adrift, my body earthbound,

A magical book guards my flight,

Will it keep me safe till morning’s light?

 

It begins with darkness. Are they dead, or trapped inside a horrible dream?
No one can hear them, see them. Has the world forgotten them? Are they
invisible? Not to the Soul Collector. They have stepped into her Kingdom,
and she is waiting for them.

The Soul Collector tablet

 

Excerpt

Chapter 1

 

The biggest boxing match of the season landed on a Friday the 13th. But a
little thing like superstition had no effect on the newcomer, Jonathan
Bayfield, and heavyweight champion, Lou Turlock. The fight fans agreed,
stomping their feet while chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” inside
the packed, brightly lit arena. Sportscasters got up close and personal,
claiming ringside seats for an in-your-face camera view.

Bayfield locked his gaze on his opponent, his right ear taking in
Coach’s words.

“Go to the body. Don’t overreach. Straight punches. Got
it?” Coach gripped Bayfield’s shoulder. “Hey, eyes on me.
Don’t let him get inside your head.”

Bayfield looked at Coach, giving him a slow nod, then reverted his focus
back to Turlock, transmitting a defiant “this fight is mine”
glare.

Turlock reciprocated, taunting Bayfield with a “we’ll
see” sneer.

The vein in Bayfield’s forehead pulsed, spreading a surge of heat
through his body. A fist to the gut. That would show the arrogant prick he
had something to worry about, rattled through his mind. The ringside bell
shattered Bayfield’s thoughts, bouncing him to his feet. Turlock came
out swinging, and Bayfield pivoted while throwing a right hook, catching the
corner of Turlock’s jaw. Turlock countered, landing a jab to
Bayfield’s chest. The blow forced the air from Bayfield’s lungs,
his body folding in half. But he quickly sprang upright, shaking off the
sting, and fired off several consecutive punches straight into
Turlock’s gut.

Turlock wobbled back and the crowd roared, shouting, “Way to go,
Bayfield!” Bayfield bounced back and forth on his feet, tapping his
gloves to the crowd’s cheers.

Turlock’s own pulse battered against his eardrums. Where was the
respect? He was a champion, and these morons had the nerve to cheer for a
nobody, some kid who’d happened to land himself a good manager.
Adrenaline tipped the scales on the fighter’s rationality. Cognitive
thought ceased. The whites of his eyes blazed as he hurtled his body like a
weapon, slamming his skull against the kid’s.

A crackling of bones ricocheted inside the ring, causing an eerie silence
to fall over the area, before shouts from the crowd came from all sides. The
ref barged in, spewing spit as he held Turlock back. Turlock’s gaze
traveled over the ref’s shoulder, colliding with the kid’s
vacant stare. He knew that look; like no one was home. He’d seen it in
his grandpa’s eyes before he’d taken his last breath. An icy
chill scurried down Turlock’s spine as the kid crumpled to the mat.
Turlock stood still as medics, judges, and more refs flooded the ring,
surrounding the kid’s lifeless body.

“I can’t find a pulse.”

“Start compressions.”

Coach pushed his way through the chaos to Bayfield. “Jonathan, can
you hear me?” Coach’s voice shook. “Stay…” He
blew out a breath. “Stay with me, buddy.”

Bayfield’s eyelids flew open, and with one push, he was on his feet.
A weird and wonderful lightness affected his body, which made no sense,
being as he weighed 200 pounds. Sounds rushed back, bouncing against his
eardrums and forming words—Coach’s words.

“Hold on, Jonathan. The ambulance is on its way.”

Bayfield focused his attention on Coach. “Ambulance?”

“Just hold on. 

Bayfield laughed. “What are you talking about? Coach, I’m
standing right behind you. Turn around.”

Coach made no attempt, his focus centered on something in front of
him.

Bayfield’s tone rose an octave. “Coach, what
gives?”

No answer came, not from Coach, nor from any of the other people hovering
around him.

Bayfield skimmed the faces of the crowd, searching for a clue or hint to
enlighten him on what the hell was happening. Why was everyone ignoring
him?

“Step aside, people,” security broadcasted with authority,
herding the crowd back. “Let the paramedics through.”

“Paramedics? Who got hurt?” Bayfield’s gaze darted to
Turlock, where men in dark blue suits surrounded him, escorting him toward
the locker room. Bayfield let his gaze grow distant. He had no memory of the
fight ending, and his boxing gloves were missing. No one acknowledged him.
None of it made sense. He gave his head a good shake. “Gotta be an
explanation for all this.” As his vision cleared, it centered on the
paramedics rolling a lifeless body away on a stretcher—his body!

His brain skidded to a stop—no pause, no rewind, no press play. Just
a complete stop. Was he being punk’d? Was this some kind of sick joke?
His gaze followed the stretcher, catching the tail end of it slipping inside
the ambulance. Coach followed, his hands running through his salt and pepper
hair. The look of sheer terror etched across Coach’s pale face slammed
against Bayfield’s brain. This was no joke. This was real, and that
ambulance was about to take off with his body.

Bayfield launched across the ring, catapulting over the ropes and sailing
inside the ambulance seconds before the doors closed and the siren sang out.
He plopped down next to Coach, his gaze transfixed on his own body lying
across from him. One massive, purplish bruise swallowed up his bloodied
forehead. Bayfield couldn’t explain it—couldn’t understand
it. “I’m sitting here, but also lying there. How is that
possible?” In a momentary shift, his eyes found Coach’s, thirsty
for an answer. None came. The silence sent a chill down Bayfield’s
spine.

A paramedic with tattoos blazing down his arms informed, “Got a
pulse,”—his intense blue eyes narrowed—“but
it’s thready.”

The paramedic behind the wheel, sprouting a six o’clock shadow,
lobbed a reply over his shoulder. “Letting dispatch know we’re
five minutes out.”

Coach gripped his hands, squeezing the blood from his knuckles.
“Getting a pulse, even a weak one, is a good thing,
right?”

The tattooed paramedic waited a good minute before saying, “For now,
yes.”

About the Author

LAURA DALEO is the author of five books. She is best known for her
storytelling of the vampiric persuasion. Her most recent work, The Vampire
Within, is the third book in her Immortal Kiss series. The series is an
interesting twist on the Egyptian pantheon being the original vampires. Her
current project, The Doll, is her first sci fi tale, with a touch of
mystery. She lives in sunny San Diego, California, with her three dogs,
Stuart, Morgan, and Dexter.

 

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First Second Coming TOUR

First Second Coming banner
First Second Coming cover
Book One In The New God Series
Supernatural Suspense, Romantic Suspense
Date Published: August 1
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png
In 2027 the deity known as NTG – short for New Testament God – retires after more than two thousand years of minding the store for his employer, Milky Way Galaxy, Inc. The new god, a planetary turnaround specialist, must decide whether Earth’s dominant species should or should not be included in his plan to bring the planet back into full compliance with Milky Way Galaxy, Inc.’s planetary operation standards.
Earth’s new God introduces himself to humanity by unexpectedly appearing on the Ram Forrester Hour talk show. Ram, an atheist, and co-host Brendali Santamaria, a devout Catholic, are stunned. God’s interview, beamed worldwide, shocks and infuriates viewers. They learn that a sixty-day conference will take place in Los Angeles to determine whether humans are capable of helping him implement his planetary turnaround plan. All mankind must do to earn a coveted spot in this God’s good graces is eliminate religious violence forever, without his heavenly help. Failure means extinction.
God designates Ram and Bren as the conference’s only authorized media reporters. This assignment, fraught with peril, ignites their romance. Not only must the harried couple attend the conference meetings by day and do their show at night, they must also outwit a fanatical religious group bent on killing them. When rising conflicts within the conference intensify, it’s up to Ram and Bren to do whatever it takes to protect their budding romance and mankind’s very survival.
 
First Second Coming phone, paperback

EXCERPT

From Chapter 1 – Stranger in a Strange Land :

Thirteen hours late, my cross-galaxy voyage to the All-Souls Transit Center ends in a puff of soft lunar dirt on Mare Tranquillitatis. I expect to meet the legendary God of planet Earth in his office but as I deplane he’s shuffling down the concourse toward his departure gate. He’s easy to spot – inside this small, sparse four gate terminal we are the only life forms in sight. 

With his stooped posture and unkempt shoulder length gray hair, God reminds me of the mythical Atlas. His tremors underscore the physical and emotional toll he has had to bear. Did his mental state also degrade? He spent two millennia managing a planet populated by quarrelsome headstrong terrestrials. Over that much time any deity posted to such a world would succumb to the effects of prolonged stress. 

I quicken my pace, catch up to him and extend a hand. “Good day, Lord.”  

“This is how you address your superiors?” The decibel level of his gruff voice implies impaired hearing. “Where are your manners? A bow is in order.”

Though I have not yet fully adapted to the musculature of this adult male body I inhabit, my flawless execution of a deep obeisance brings a quick smile to my face.

God gives me a brusque signal to rise. “You’re my replacement, are you?” 

“Correct, Lord. I am humbled and honored to take your place.” I bow again, less fully.

“Call me NTG if you wish. I prefer answering to that nickname.” 

So the rumor is true. That he calls himself the New Testament God instead of his given name means he has indeed gone native. This explains a lot.

We sink into a ‘maximum comfort’ couch – or so the attached tag boasts – stuffed full of condensed nimbostratus cloud threads imported from Earth. An ugly green tarp spread over the cushions prevents our clothes from getting soaked by residual moisture. 

God adjusts his overcoat and leans toward me. “I trust you had an enjoyable flight?”  

“I would like to say yes, but what a hellacious trip.” That’s an understatement. “We flew through several cosmic storms, circumvented an unmapped black hole and limped here on back-up power after the anti-matter fuel engine failed. I will never fly by chartered spaceship again.”

“Now that you’ve arrived, what makes you think you can take on a tough job like this?”

“This is my fourth assignment, though the first for Milky Way Galaxy, Inc.” I place my carry-on bag on the tan moonrock table and open a side pocket. “I have a résumé, if you want to peruse it. In each previous posting, the planets I shepherded returned to optimal status. Whilst this assignment is more complex, I assure you my record shall remain unsullied.” 

“Humph.” He spits into the thin puddle created by the leaky couch and waves off my résumé. “I thought those spineless MWGI decision-makers would send a rank amateur. After only three postings, you expect to fix this mess? You’re still wet around the ears, sonny. Have you even hung your precious university degrees on a wall yet?” He points at the nearby picture window. “On Earth they say you learn more through failure than success.” 

“Elder, I did not travel here to fail. MWGI reached out because of my extensive training as a planetary turnaround specialist. They are confident I am the best available deity for this job.”

“And you agree with that assessment, do you?” He fidgets, as though trying to stand and walk away, but can’t get off the couch.   

“I would not otherwise have taken the job, Lord. Once I did, I undertook considerable research. The travel delays afforded me extra preparation time. I have learned everything a new deity should know about Earth and its inhabitants. I am ready to take the reins.”

“Your extensive reading helped you form opinions regarding the humans, did it?”  

I disregard the sarcasm implicit in the question. If I ever reach his wizened old age, young deities will receive better treatment from me than this. His attitude is understandable, though. Forced retirement is a difficult pill for anyone to swallow, supreme beings included.

“Lord, these sentient beings do have many laudable qualities. However, whilst I prefer not to focus on the negative, on the whole humans strike me as a rather unpredictable species.”  

NTG spits again and rummages through the pockets of his black overcoat, pants and vest. “Where’s the damn thing? Did I forget it? Ah, here. Since you’re not dead, you’ll need this to get into heaven.” 

He hands me a Holyday Inn card key with “NTG” stenciled on the back side. I stare at the card whilst mulling over my research, which characterized heaven as an imaginary afterlife sanctuary. With a shrug, I deposit the card in the pocket of my blue denim shirt. 

“Many humans call it heaven, but I consider it home.” God’s melancholic smile comes and goes in seconds. “Souls get over the false advertising once they adjust to their newly deceased status. Follow the overhead signs to the tram that’ll take you to the complex. My office is by the main gate so I can greet arrivals on St. Peter’s days off. Ask for Angie, my chief of staff. She’s a real angel in every sense of the word.”



About the Author

Jeff Pollak grew up in Riverdale – not the one in the Archie comics and movies, the one in the Bronx. After graduating college in Buffalo’s often frozen tundra, he moved to Los Angeles to thaw out and learn to play golf without losing the ball in snow drifts. While there, a law school accepted him into their night program. Now retired from life as a civil trial litigator, Jeff lives in the Crescenta Valley where the closest Jeff comes to winter is his sporadic attendance at hockey games.
FIRST SECOND COMING, Jeff’s debut novel, was inspired by 9/11. Like everyone else, Jeff was transfixed by the unfolding tragedy. Unlike everyone else, Jeff had clients in the World Trade Center, his law firm had given annual seminars at Windows of the World, at the top of the building, and he’d become familiar with some of the staff. While watching the WTC collapse, the thought “earth needs a new God who’s a planetary turnaround specialist,” came to mind. Over the ensuing decade, this odd idea germinated in the deeper recessions of Jeff’s overactive brain until this story hatched in 2015. Jeff’s been writing it ever since.
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First Second Coming Blitz

First Second Coming banner
First Second Coming cover
Book One In The New God Series
Supernatural Suspense, Romantic Suspense
Date Published: August 1
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png
In 2027 the deity known as NTG – short for New Testament God – retires after more than two thousand years of minding the store for his employer, Milky Way Galaxy, Inc. The new god, a planetary turnaround specialist, must decide whether Earth’s dominant species should or should not be included in his plan to bring the planet back into full compliance with Milky Way Galaxy, Inc.’s planetary operation standards.
Earth’s new God introduces himself to humanity by unexpectedly appearing on the Ram Forrester Hour talk show. Ram, an atheist, and co-host Brendali Santamaria, a devout Catholic, are stunned. God’s interview, beamed worldwide, shocks and infuriates viewers. They learn that a sixty-day conference will take place in Los Angeles to determine whether humans are capable of helping him implement his planetary turnaround plan. All mankind must do to earn a coveted spot in this God’s good graces is eliminate religious violence forever, without his heavenly help. Failure means extinction.
God designates Ram and Bren as the conference’s only authorized media reporters. This assignment, fraught with peril, ignites their romance. Not only must the harried couple attend the conference meetings by day and do their show at night, they must also outwit a fanatical religious group bent on killing them. When rising conflicts within the conference intensify, it’s up to Ram and Bren to do whatever it takes to protect their budding romance and mankind’s very survival.
 
 

Excerpt

Thirteen hours late, my cross-galaxy voyage to the All-Souls Transit Center ends in a puff of soft lunar dirt on Mare Tranquillitatis. I expect to meet the legendary God of planet Earth in his office but as I deplane he’s shuffling down the concourse toward his departure gate. He’s easy to spot – inside this small, sparse four gate terminal we are the only life forms in sight.

With his stooped posture and unkempt shoulder length gray hair, God reminds me of the mythical Atlas. His tremors underscore the physical and emotional toll he has had to bear. Did his mental state also degrade? He spent two millennia managing a planet populated by quarrelsome headstrong terrestrials. Over that much time any deity posted to such a world would succumb to the effects of prolonged stress.

I quicken my pace, catch up to him and extend a hand. “Good day, Lord.”

“This is how you address your superiors?” The decibel level of his gruff voice implies impaired hearing. “Where are your manners? A bow is in order.”

Though I have not yet fully adapted to the musculature of this adult male body I inhabit, my flawless execution of a deep obeisance brings a quick smile to my face.

God gives me a brusque signal to rise. “You’re my replacement, are you?”

“Correct, Lord. I am humbled and honored to take your place.” I bow again, less fully.

“Call me NTG if you wish. I prefer answering to that nickname.”

So the rumor is true. That he calls himself the New Testament God instead of his given name means he has indeed gone native. This explains a lot.

We sink into a ‘maximum comfort’ couch – or so the attached tag boasts – stuffed full of condensed nimbostratus cloud threads imported from Earth. An ugly green tarp spread over the cushions prevents our clothes from getting soaked by residual moisture.

God adjusts his overcoat and leans toward me. “I trust you had an enjoyable flight?”

“I would like to say yes, but what a hellacious trip.” That’s an understatement. “We flew through several cosmic storms, circumvented an unmapped black hole and limped here on back-up power after the anti-matter fuel engine failed. I will never fly by chartered spaceship again.”

“Now that you’ve arrived, what makes you think you can take on a tough job like this?”

“This is my fourth assignment, though the first for Milky Way Galaxy, Inc.” I place my carry-on bag on the tan moonrock table and open a side pocket. “I have a résumé, if you want to peruse it. In each previous posting, the planets I shepherded returned to optimal status. Whilst this assignment is more complex, I assure you my record shall remain unsullied.”

“Humph.” He spits into the thin puddle created by the leaky couch and waves off my résumé. “I thought those spineless MWGI decision-makers would send a rank amateur. After only three postings, you expect to fix this mess? You’re still wet around the ears, sonny. Have you even hung your precious university degrees on a wall yet?” He points at the nearby picture window. “On Earth they say you learn more through failure than success.”

“Elder, I did not travel here to fail. MWGI reached out because of my extensive training as a planetary turnaround specialist. They are confident I am the best available deity for this job.”

“And you agree with that assessment, do you?” He fidgets, as though trying to stand and walk away, but can’t get off the couch. 

“I would not otherwise have taken the job, Lord. Once I did, I undertook considerable research. The travel delays afforded me extra preparation time. I have learned everything a new deity should know about Earth and its inhabitants. I am ready to take the reins.”

“Your extensive reading helped you form opinions regarding the humans, did it?”

I disregard the sarcasm implicit in the question. If I ever reach his wizened old age, young deities will receive better treatment from me than this. His attitude is understandable, though. Forced retirement is a difficult pill for anyone to swallow, supreme beings included.

“Lord, these sentient beings do have many laudable qualities. However, whilst I prefer not to focus on the negative, on the whole humans strike me as a rather unpredictable species.”

NTG spits again and rummages through the pockets of his black overcoat, pants and vest. “Where’s the damn thing? Did I forget it? Ah, here. Since you’re not dead, you’ll need this to get into heaven.”

He hands me a Holyday Inn card key with “NTG” stenciled on the back side. I stare at the card whilst mulling over my research, which characterized heaven as an imaginary afterlife sanctuary. With a shrug, I deposit the card in the pocket of my blue denim shirt.

“Many humans call it heaven, but I consider it home.” God’s melancholic smile comes and goes in seconds. “Souls get over the false advertising once they adjust to their newly deceased status. Follow the overhead signs to the tram that’ll take you to the complex. My office is by the main gate so I can greet arrivals on St. Peter’s days off. Ask for Angie, my chief of staff. She’s a real angel in every sense of the word.”



About the Author
Jeff Pollak grew up in Riverdale – not the one in the Archie comics and movies, the one in the Bronx. After graduating college in Buffalo’s often frozen tundra, he moved to Los Angeles to thaw out and learn to play golf without losing the ball in snow drifts. While there, a law school accepted him into their night program. Now retired from life as a civil trial litigator, Jeff lives in the Crescenta Valley where the closest Jeff comes to winter is his sporadic attendance at hockey games.
FIRST SECOND COMING, Jeff’s debut novel, was inspired by 9/11. Like everyone else, Jeff was transfixed by the unfolding tragedy. Unlike everyone else, Jeff had clients in the World Trade Center, his law firm had given annual seminars at Windows of the World, at the top of the building, and he’d become familiar with some of the staff. While watching the WTC collapse, the thought “earth needs a new God who’s a planetary turnaround specialist,” came to mind. Over the ensuing decade, this odd idea germinated in the deeper recessions of Jeff’s overactive brain until this story hatched in 2015. Jeff’s been writing it ever since.
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First Second Coming Reveal

First Second Coming cover

 

Book One In The New God Series
Supernatural Suspense, Romantic Suspense
Date Published: August 1
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png
In 2027 the deity known as NTG – short for New Testament God – retires after more than two thousand years of minding the store for his employer, Milky Way Galaxy, Inc. The new god, a planetary turnaround specialist, must decide whether Earth’s dominant species should or should not be included in his plan to bring the planet back into full compliance with Milky Way Galaxy, Inc.’s planetary operation standards.
Earth’s new God introduces himself to humanity by unexpectedly appearing on the Ram Forrester Hour talk show. Ram, an atheist, and co-host Brendali Santamaria, a devout Catholic, are stunned. God’s interview, beamed worldwide, shocks and infuriates viewers. They learn that a sixty-day conference will take place in Los Angeles to determine whether humans are capable of helping him implement his planetary turnaround plan. All mankind must do to earn a coveted spot in this God’s good graces is eliminate religious violence forever, without his heavenly help. Failure means extinction.
God designates Ram and Bren as the conference’s only authorized media reporters. This assignment, fraught with peril, ignites their romance. Not only must the harried couple attend the conference meetings by day and do their show at night, they must also outwit a fanatical religious group bent on killing them. When rising conflicts within the conference intensify, it’s up to Ram and Bren to do whatever it takes to protect their budding romance and mankind’s very survival.


About the Author
Jeff Pollak grew up in Riverdale – not the one in the Archie comics and movies, the one in the Bronx. After graduating college in Buffalo’s often frozen tundra, he moved to Los Angeles to thaw out and learn to play golf without losing the ball in snow drifts. While there, a law school accepted him into their night program. Now retired from life as a civil trial litigator, Jeff lives in the Crescenta Valley where the closest Jeff comes to winter is his sporadic attendance at hockey games.
FIRST SECOND COMING, Jeff’s debut novel, was inspired by 9/11. Like everyone else, Jeff was transfixed by the unfolding tragedy. Unlike everyone else, Jeff had clients in the World Trade Center, his law firm had given annual seminars at Windows of the World, at the top of the building, and he’d become familiar with some of the staff. While watching the WTC collapse, the thought “earth needs a new God who’s a planetary turnaround specialist,” came to mind. Over the ensuing decade, this odd idea germinated in the deeper recessions of Jeff’s overactive brain until this story hatched in 2015. Jeff’s been writing it ever since.
Contact Links
RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on First Second Coming Reveal

Filed under BOOKS

First Second Coming Reveal

First Second Coming cover

 

Book One In The New God Series
Supernatural Suspense, Romantic Suspense
Date Published: August 1
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png
In 2027 the deity known as NTG – short for New Testament God – retires after more than two thousand years of minding the store for his employer, Milky Way Galaxy, Inc. The new god, a planetary turnaround specialist, must decide whether Earth’s dominant species should or should not be included in his plan to bring the planet back into full compliance with Milky Way Galaxy, Inc.’s planetary operation standards.
Earth’s new God introduces himself to humanity by unexpectedly appearing on the Ram Forrester Hour talk show. Ram, an atheist, and co-host Brendali Santamaria, a devout Catholic, are stunned. God’s interview, beamed worldwide, shocks and infuriates viewers. They learn that a sixty-day conference will take place in Los Angeles to determine whether humans are capable of helping him implement his planetary turnaround plan. All mankind must do to earn a coveted spot in this God’s good graces is eliminate religious violence forever, without his heavenly help. Failure means extinction.
God designates Ram and Bren as the conference’s only authorized media reporters. This assignment, fraught with peril, ignites their romance. Not only must the harried couple attend the conference meetings by day and do their show at night, they must also outwit a fanatical religious group bent on killing them. When rising conflicts within the conference intensify, it’s up to Ram and Bren to do whatever it takes to protect their budding romance and mankind’s very survival.


About the Author
Jeff Pollak grew up in Riverdale – not the one in the Archie comics and movies, the one in the Bronx. After graduating college in Buffalo’s often frozen tundra, he moved to Los Angeles to thaw out and learn to play golf without losing the ball in snow drifts. While there, a law school accepted him into their night program. Now retired from life as a civil trial litigator, Jeff lives in the Crescenta Valley where the closest Jeff comes to winter is his sporadic attendance at hockey games.
FIRST SECOND COMING, Jeff’s debut novel, was inspired by 9/11. Like everyone else, Jeff was transfixed by the unfolding tragedy. Unlike everyone else, Jeff had clients in the World Trade Center, his law firm had given annual seminars at Windows of the World, at the top of the building, and he’d become familiar with some of the staff. While watching the WTC collapse, the thought “earth needs a new God who’s a planetary turnaround specialist,” came to mind. Over the ensuing decade, this odd idea germinated in the deeper recessions of Jeff’s overactive brain until this story hatched in 2015. Jeff’s been writing it ever since.
Contact Links
RABT Book Tours & PR

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Filed under BOOKS