Hey, look at at this. It's the September Celebration!

I'm giving away an autographed copy of my near future dystopian thriller The Shrinking Zone.

For your chance to win, click the give-away badge floating on the right.

 

Well, Pilgrim, if you're wondering what all the fuss is about, I'll explain it to you.

 For your reading pleasure, I've attached two excerpts from The Shrinking Zone, which is still available for only 99 cents in ebook, and $9.99 in paperback. Links to all of my books are directly above. You can also find them here.

I selected these two excerpts at random, with the only proviso being that they didn't give away too much of the story, or spoil for future readers the outcome of the scenes from which I took them. As always, the author has generously approved my use of these excepts.

Excerpt one:

Rodrigo waited for Vince to tear out on the four-wheeler before he sent the Jeep hurtling through the sagebrush and the darkness. He rapidly increased his speed, going straight for the space between two sets of headlights. The one on his right must have caught sight of him, for the black SUV veered away and slid to a stop. Rodrigo didn’t slow. The other SUV didn’t stop, but instead turned toward the Jeep. The maneuver sprayed a plume of dirt into the air.

Rodrigo cut hard left, going through the dirt-laden darkness the SUV had vacated. The SUV spun around in pursuit. Everything not locked down in the Jeep bounced, rattled and banged. The jockey box which hadn’t latched properly flopped open when the front end of the Jeep found a badger hole. The box of shells bounced out when the Jeep came down. Bullets spilled from the open box to scatter like frightened mice on the floorboard.

Rodrigo couldn’t spare a hand to shut the jockey box or to...

Excerpt Two:

Outside a few torches appeared in the night. Red eyes gleamed in the torchlight.

Don pushed the two women out the back door. "Go. Ride. Hurry, or you’ll never get out of here.”

...

A torch appeared from the corner of the house. Diana’s M4 spit a single shot. The torch and the exper who held it fell back around the corner.

“Don’t forget these,” Kim said, tossing Don the keys to the Buick.

“Go.” Don slapped the horses as they turned away.

Horses and riders disappeared into the night.

Don moved to the hayshed and peeked around to where he could see the lane. The first set of headlights started to make the turn to come to the front door. A storm of rocks and a piece of rebar struck the F-150.

Another fine review posted on Amazon for The Shrinking Zone last week. I'll share it in my newsletter which you can get here.

In other news, the review and edit of the new short story are complete. I implemented most of the changes my proofreader suggested. I will give the story another once over before I send it off this week.

I begin phase III of my workout program tomorrow. It's not part of some new year's resolution. I started the program in November. As you may suspect, my new year's resolution was, "I aim to misbehave." Which reminds me that I'm in the middle of a Firefly rewatch. I highly recommend it as instructional material on the elements of good story telling. It's also great fun. 

I've gone over the first 20K words of the next book in the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire series, adding and subtracting along the way. Antonio is the brightest light in that part of the story, but Alex and Lucette are getting the next steps in their respective adventures set up. Alex has made a particularly exciting advancement in his use of the essence. I still need to outline, at least in some general way, the next part of the tale for Iago and Atu, as well as for Akram and the other dragon hunters with their new acquaintances Frode and Njal. Lt. Roberts and his new pet are going to be a formidable obstacle for Alex and the patriot soldiers. The Commander is also likely to return to the New World, bringing the death and destruction which attend his presence both on and off the battlefield.

 

I spent part of yesterday extinguishing holiday cheer. The prevailing mood was frigid. With the landscape cloaked in icy white, and the temperature restrained to the single digits, I soon discovered that my worn, leather work gloves were woefully insufficient protection. After going back inside to warm my hands, and putting my cheap stretchy gloves inside the leather ones, I leaped into the action once more. 

It was lonely work all by myself, but I shrank not from the fray. I threw the scaling ladder next to the chateau walls and ascended to sack and pillage according to my whim. I spared not a single string of Christmas cheer, dragging them from the stronghold and binding them deftly (or with the meanest of skill as the case may be). The lights in the trees, like guerrilla bands in their mountain haunts, resisted in a most determined fashion, but my superior strength, mental acuity, and tactical brilliance eventually prevailed. There are very few inanimate objects that can defeat me in a straight-up battle of wits.

Earlier in the week, while shoveling snow, I formed a rudimentary fort around the fire pit. It stands forlorn and unused as everyone else maintains that the weather is too cold to loiter about a fire outside.

Last night, there were a hundred or so elk in a field that is off to the left in the snow fort picture. I didn't get a picture of that. 

______

Before I share a book review, I must report the surprise that I got today. My biggest fan caught me to tell me that he read my latest book, The Shrinking Zone, and he loved it. He then proceeded to tell me how he would slay red-eyes. Of course, I told him at the time I was writing it that he would like it. I'm not surprised that he read and loved it. I'm surprised that he had obtained a paperback already -- he received it for Christmas. I'm still waiting for my author copy paperbacks to arrive.

______

As for the book review:

I finished the last of these (except for a half-hour remaining) while taking down the lights yesterday. These two books are actually one book that has been divided into to 2 audio books on Chirpbooks from Dumas' sequel to The Three Musketeers. Twenty Years After is over 13 hours long, and Blood Royal is nearly fifteen hours long. I acquired them for $2.99 or maybe $4.99 each, although I believe they are both back up to their regular price of $20 or more. The books are read by John Lee who does an absolutely fabulous job. 

As the more perceptive may glean from the title, the story begins 20 years after the conclusion of The Three Musketeers. D'Artagnan is still a lieutenant of musketeers. Athos is a retired country gentleman, Aramis is an abbot. Porthos is also a retired country gentleman. The four friends find themselves on opposite sides in a political dispute that threatens to break out into civil war. They cannot prevail against one another. Only when they combine their talents do they find success--and even that has limits. Milady's son Mordaunt is the major antagonist in the story. Mazarin, the Prime Minister of France, is the secondary villain. The heroes travel from Paris and about France to England, Scotland, London, and back to France again. The story drags in places where the political intrigue among the secondary characters takes center stage. However, as a whole, the story demonstrates Dumas' expertise in weaving a compelling tale of fiction with historical events. D'Artagnan and Porthos continue to be highly satisfying and likeable characters in my opinion. I found Athos and Aramis, particularly Athos, to be less satisfying. Athos grows less mysterious, and Aramis continues to become more mysterious. If I remember correctly from my reading of the final book, Le Vicomte de Bragelonne, Aramis is the only one of the four heroes whose death is not finally revealed. 

In summary--This was a fantastic translation and reading of Dumas' work.

_____

In my own writing, I'm still wrestling with a short story that I need to submit before the month is over. That's all I've got to say about that.

 It's alive.

Or, it's live.

I did it. The Shrinking Zone is live on Amazon. 

This is my 9th novel. 9 is the number of novels I have written. The novels I have written are 9 in number. It all began with Justice in Season, which I wrote back in 2000-2002, and put on the big river site in 2012. I followed that with Smoke, and the sequel to the first novel Justice Resurrgent in 2018. The following year I published Threading the Rude Eye, and Power to Hurt, the first two books in my alternate history fantasy Tomahawks and Dragon Fire series. The third book in the series, Clamorous Harbingers, came out in 2020. I published two more books in 2021: Promise of Carnage and Flame, book four in the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire series; and this new stand-alone, The Shrinking Zone. The more astute among you, or anyone who can count, may notice that that only totals 8 books. Well, I wrote another one, Finding Jack-The Orb, which is the first in a trilogy, but I have no idea when I'm going to get back to that trilogy, so I removed that book from Amazon.

That's all a lead-in to saying that the price of this 9th book shall be 99 cents. 99 cents shall be the price thereof. Get it. Get it now.

One weird thing -- The Amazon reviews of Smoke are showing up on The Shrinking Zone page. I don't know why.

What do you need to know about The Shrinking Zone? It's a fanfare for the common man. The protagonists aren't supermen or grizzled special forces veterans. They're working-class patriots and families. The location is not some exotic locale, but a rural area on the Snake River Plain. The stakes begin small, but rise with the tension and fast-paced action. If you have hope for America, The Shrinking Zone is the book for you. Get it before it becomes reality.

I'm on to book 5 in the alt-hist-fantasy series--which is already started.

_________

The festive illumination du Chateau du Chat Gris began on Saturday. The contractor and I did all we could until we could take the weather no longer. The weather we couldn't take was cold and gray like a concrete slab in winter--with the added bonus of a freezing wind to challenge our combined will. I did get started before he came, but had to take those lights down because parts of each strand were defective. My wife had played a nice trick. She had labeled the box, "lights for the trees" and also in a faint and faded marker had written, "need fixed." I did test each strand before I put it up, and cast aside any that were totally dead. The problem was that of the rest of the strands half or more of the lights didn't work. The problem became apparent after I ran power to them. The tree lights went up more quickly the second time when the contractor got into the tree. I was tempted to make a Legolas joke while he was up there, but none came to mind that were witty enough to be worth mentioning.

To complicate the illumination installation, I got a call from local law enforcement about a matter that required contacting the secretary who knows how to generate the appropriate paperwork, and coordinating with the judge who had to review and sign the right papers to make sure things happened in a timely manner. Ultimately, it didn't slow me down much, because the contractor continued stringing lights while I talked on the phone.

Finally, the contractor insisted that he beat me in a game of cribbage. I nearly prevented that, but I let him get one 15 too many (or is it two many in this case? You won't get that if you don't know how to play cribbage), so he was able to count out with a hand of only two. I had plenty of points in my hand and crib, but had to count second. Naturally, he wanted to move on to dinner rather than let me get even. My desire for revenge has been left to fester.

I was hoping for another round of gaming fun with Les Freres Corses, but they haven't been able to come over yet. I did get to do Legos with the Goose, but her and her sister spent most of their time with their grandma and the college girl who is home for the holiday.

Merry Christmas!

 

The Corsican Brothers were here at the Chateau du Chat Gris for Thanksgiving. The K-man got to help light (reluctantly) the final batch of coals I used to finish off the turkey. The bird turned out great, by the way, with a light smoke and orange flavor. It may have been as good as the turkey I smoked last year.

Following the gratitudinal repast, the four-wheeler refused all entreaties. It could not be persuaded, cajoled, or prodded into service. Instead, we enjoyed a rousing game that I made up on the spot. RC wanted to play a game with the Star Trek figures, and K-man manifested boundless enthusiasm for the idea as well. With five figures, a hunk of rigid insulation for a game board, homemade scenery and obstacles that consisted of a ruin, a big rock (played by an actual rock) a few trees and a wooded area, and the Guardian portal from The City on the Edge of Forever which came with some of the figures, along with several six-sided dice, some bottle caps and red wax, we sat down to the table to play. I should say that I sat down. The boys remained standing, moving about, and hopping with excitement. 

The visiting team included both Federation and Klingon crewmen. The home team consisted of two carnivorous dinosaurs, and a giant spider. It seems that the joint mission of frequent enemies had troubles with their small craft and had to land to effectuate repairs. While working to fix the problem, one crewman was bitten by a venomous creature. The venom didn't kill him, but sent him into a delirium and he leaped through the strange stone portal with a crucial part of the vessel. The rest of the team followed to find themselves in a strange new environment. Their mission required the crew to find the missing part, and to rescue the crewman who had gone unconscious, all while avoiding the unfriendly denizens who sought to make a meal of them. 

The game was complicated by the fact that RC insisted on adding more monsters/plot complications, and also a creature that wandered about according to his desires dispensing unsolicited healing. The Corsican Brothers had their men spread out for a more effective search. One Klingon bravely faced off with a dinosaur--and finished the game right there as a terrible lizard lunchable. 

One crewman took a wound in battle with a dinosaur; he escaped. Another red shirt made the dinner menu for a dinosaur, but the remaining crew escaped with the missing part and the passed-out crewman. A late arrival (one of RC's plot complications) tested his phaser on a dinosaur and found the results entirely satisfactory. I think the fact that most of the Star Trek figures were from the "Day of the Dove" episode, and carried swords rather than phasers or disruptors, is why the Corsican Brothers didn't think to try ranged weapons before they had already fed two comrades to the beasts. The giant spider did get in on the action, but neither took nor delivered any wounds.

In short, the Corsican Brothers and I had a great time with our little game. The chance to take a second or third action tempted the boys early in the game, but they began to see that the gamble usually brought unfavorable results. They stopped taking the gamble until the race to the portal at the end. After some close calls and frustrating die rolls, the K-man made it to safety with the crucial part, and RC carried off the unconscious crewman.

***

In other news, I'm working on the cover for The Shrinking Zone. Here are two possibilities for your consideration. I'm probably going to explore more font/color options for the title. 

Let me know if you think one is more appealing than the other for a novel categorized as a dystopian domestic thriller. It's a fanfare for the common man featuring action and adventure in a dystopian setting.

Here are some quotes I've included in the Author Foreword of the novel:

“May the Freedom and Independency of America endure until the Sun grows dim with age, and this Earth returns to Chaos.” –Toast given at a Massachusetts tavern in 1776 following the reading of the Declaration of Independence

“Show me that age and country where the rights and liberties of the people were placed on the sole chance of their rulers being good men, without a consequent loss of liberty?” –Patrick Henry

“They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.” –Patrick Henry

Get your copy of The Shrinking Zone in December.

 

I was going to give the main character a flip phone in a holster. It would have been perfect for him. Except the dystopian society in which he lives in the high desert of the Western U.S. won't let him have one. He doesn't meet the necessary criteria and his son has possible ties to a suspected domestic terrorist group. Electricity is an intermittent luxury for him and his wife. The internet and cell service are only two of the things the government has forbidden to them. 

(here's a photo of a lizard completely unrelated to the novel I'm writing)

In this dystopian thriller, Don is a hardworking, blue-collar man just trying to survive. When his best friend's daughter is taken by the half-crazed subjects of clandestine government experiments, he calls on Don to help save her. How can Don rescue the girl when he must struggle against a power-mad demagogue in the desert, savage hybrid beasts, rebel forces, and the crushing power of a state rushing toward totalitarianism?

Find out in The Shrinking Zone -- coming soon.

I've had some great times writing this novel this week. The action has built to a crescendo and the chips are hitting the fan with exceeding rapidity. At its core, the novel is about families and friendships, but it's wrapped in thrilling action with precious lives and the fate of a nation at stake.