ANYONE NEEDING BOOK COVER HELP, JUST LET ME KNOW...I'M WILLING TO HELP IF I CAN PROBABLY JUST FOR A REVIEW OF ONE OF MY NOVELS...YOU CAN'T BEAT THAT :)Friday, May 01, 2009
CONCEPTS AND ACTUAL BOOK COVERS: BY ME
ANYONE NEEDING BOOK COVER HELP, JUST LET ME KNOW...I'M WILLING TO HELP IF I CAN PROBABLY JUST FOR A REVIEW OF ONE OF MY NOVELS...YOU CAN'T BEAT THAT :)
NEW MORE DRAMATIC COVER!
Hey folks, I've done some revision to the cover for my Christian Action-thriller, HALLOWED BE THY NAME. See if you think this is more dramatic! Click the cover to check out the back copy description. "Jonathan Hallowed undergoes a real trial of faith as he tries to understand why God has allowed this situation to happen to him and whether or not to sacrifice his life in order to use the power he's been given in order to save those around him."
Monday, April 27, 2009
"PERDITIONS GATE" COMING SOON!
I've got several new novels about to be released in the near future..."Hallowed Be Thy Name" has already been released as a paperback and Kindle book as well as "The Chronicles of S0one: Rise of Lucin."
PERDITIONS GATE is coming soon. This is a Christian action-thriller involving special ops, in a near future setting, lots of intrigue, etc. Check out the back cover copy when you click to blow it up :D
For any self published authors interested in Book Cover work, I'm also willing to do that and CHEAP. email me jamessremos(at)yahoo.com and we'll talk. This PERDITIONS GATE front and back cover is a sample of my work--click it to see full size.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
HALLOWED BE THY NAME - PREVIEW
PREVIEW: FIRST TWO CHAPTERS OF "HALLOWED BE THY NAME"--now available!
1 PROWARD STREET STATION
Only an idiot would dare travel through Donalee at night. That’s what Dr. Trenton Hallowed had read in today’s newspaper. He opened the door of his Lexus sedan, a tall man of slim build, dark hair and stepped into the street at the intersection of Walnut and Vineyard. New-car-smell segued into late evening after-the-rain. He toggled the trunk switch and the lid popped open. Trenton placed his key set in the pocket of his suit pants and removed a knee length white lab coat, folding it up as he walked around to the rear bumper and set it inside. A Genetic Corp employee pass-badge lay clipped on the front pocket face up.
Trenton removed a brown suit jacket from the trunk and pulled it on. He paused a moment to wipe his wire-rimmed glasses with a monogrammed white handkerchief then seated them securely upon the bridge of his nose with an after-push. He retrieved a beige fedora and black leather briefcase and capped his outfit before closing the trunk lid.
Trenton scanned the area and then crossed Vineyard Street reaching into his pocket to depress the keychain. The hazard lights on the Lexus flashed behind him with a chirp as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. Rainwater splashed his hat brim from the streetlight as he passed under. To his right, a digital billboard flashed the date and time in between advertisements. Trenton scanned the Rolex on his left wrist. His timepiece read two minutes fast at 10:30 PM.
Trenton opened one of the glass double doors to the Vineyard Street Subway station and walked inside. This late in the evening, the station was virtually abandoned. Custodians operated sweepers while a few others waxed the floor. Walking through the station, he noticed how impeccably clean everything was.
The marble floor showed very little signs of wear as did the costly leather couches and mahogany tables sitting in the vestibule. The custodians performed a duty, not a necessity. Only then did Trenton consider that most people living in Imperial City’s Hilton borough didn’t need public transportation. It held a stigma here.
As Trenton approached the turnstiles, he saw a burly security officer leaning against one of two attendant booths. One stood dark, while the other housed a lone female attendant with curly blonde hair who was engaged in conversation with the officer. They seemed surprised to see anyone actually coming into the station, especially at this time of night.
“Good evening, sir,” the security officer said. He straightened and Trenton wondered if all he did every night was stand there talking to the pretty girl in the attendant booth. “Would you like an escort?” the man asked.
“No thank you.” Trenton kept his fedora at an angle shadowing his facial features. He passed his right hand over the turnstile sensor and it automatically scanned the Hilton identification band on his ring finger. A green light on top of the turnstile flashed and Trenton walked through unhindered. “Have a lovely evening, sir,” the security officer said.
Trenton kept walking and did not reply. An escalator carried him down to the train platform. Two more security officers sat at a desk to his right. They were already looking at him by the time he cleared the short hallway leading onto the platform. He made a mental note of several camera mounts positioned in the ceiling corners. “Hello, sir,” one of the men said from behind the counter.
Trenton nodded to them with a slight tug on his brim. Neither of the guards showed enough interest to actually come over and investigate. He examined his watch again. 10:37PM.
A train howled coming through the tunnel on approach to Vineyard Station. The automated train engine emerged from the tunnel trailing five passenger cars. When the car doors opened with a hydraulic hiss, the yellow barrier gates followed suit—five gates swung open giving access to this lone passenger. Trenton boarded and sat down in the empty train car.
The computer controlling the train waited two more minutes, sounded an intent-to-board alarm bell then closed the passenger cars. Trenton pulled a current newspaper from his briefcase, began reading and waited. No other passengers had boarded while in Hilton, just as he had expected.
In a matter of minutes, the train covered miles of underground and overland track. It left the Hilton borough altogether—immediately entering the Branton borough. Trenton read with the pages held aloft blocking his view of any passengers who might board. All he heard at each stop were the doors. He waited.
When the computerized female voice announced that his train had passed into the Donalee borough, Trenton’s palms began to sweat. This was it—his field experiment was about to happen. The train stopped at the Proward Street station—the same as the news article Trenton had read. The door hissed and opened. The smell of sweat and cigarette smoke invaded the train car along with several sets of footsteps.
Trenton’s newspaper exploded away from his hands revealing four armed men—two with knives, one with a lead pipe, the last swinging a thick chain. Trenton noticed two overly made-up young women waiting outside the subway car door. One held a .38 caliber pistol—Saturday night special. Two of the men grabbed Trenton out of his seat and slung him out of the train onto the platform. Trenton stumbled but did not resist. The doors closed back into place. Seconds later the automated train left the station, leaving the famous geneticist behind.
Trenton stood on stained gray concrete in the midst of the four men and two women on the Proward Station platform. Graffiti adorned every wall. “The wallet and briefcase now, fancy pants!” one of the men said. Trenton searched for camera mounts and found all of them torn down.
He smiled. Perfect.
Only an idiot would dare travel through Donalee at night. That’s what Dr. Trenton Hallowed had read in today’s newspaper. He opened the door of his Lexus sedan, a tall man of slim build, dark hair and stepped into the street at the intersection of Walnut and Vineyard. New-car-smell segued into late evening after-the-rain. He toggled the trunk switch and the lid popped open. Trenton placed his key set in the pocket of his suit pants and removed a knee length white lab coat, folding it up as he walked around to the rear bumper and set it inside. A Genetic Corp employee pass-badge lay clipped on the front pocket face up.
Trenton removed a brown suit jacket from the trunk and pulled it on. He paused a moment to wipe his wire-rimmed glasses with a monogrammed white handkerchief then seated them securely upon the bridge of his nose with an after-push. He retrieved a beige fedora and black leather briefcase and capped his outfit before closing the trunk lid.
Trenton scanned the area and then crossed Vineyard Street reaching into his pocket to depress the keychain. The hazard lights on the Lexus flashed behind him with a chirp as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. Rainwater splashed his hat brim from the streetlight as he passed under. To his right, a digital billboard flashed the date and time in between advertisements. Trenton scanned the Rolex on his left wrist. His timepiece read two minutes fast at 10:30 PM.
Trenton opened one of the glass double doors to the Vineyard Street Subway station and walked inside. This late in the evening, the station was virtually abandoned. Custodians operated sweepers while a few others waxed the floor. Walking through the station, he noticed how impeccably clean everything was.
The marble floor showed very little signs of wear as did the costly leather couches and mahogany tables sitting in the vestibule. The custodians performed a duty, not a necessity. Only then did Trenton consider that most people living in Imperial City’s Hilton borough didn’t need public transportation. It held a stigma here.
As Trenton approached the turnstiles, he saw a burly security officer leaning against one of two attendant booths. One stood dark, while the other housed a lone female attendant with curly blonde hair who was engaged in conversation with the officer. They seemed surprised to see anyone actually coming into the station, especially at this time of night.
“Good evening, sir,” the security officer said. He straightened and Trenton wondered if all he did every night was stand there talking to the pretty girl in the attendant booth. “Would you like an escort?” the man asked.
“No thank you.” Trenton kept his fedora at an angle shadowing his facial features. He passed his right hand over the turnstile sensor and it automatically scanned the Hilton identification band on his ring finger. A green light on top of the turnstile flashed and Trenton walked through unhindered. “Have a lovely evening, sir,” the security officer said.
Trenton kept walking and did not reply. An escalator carried him down to the train platform. Two more security officers sat at a desk to his right. They were already looking at him by the time he cleared the short hallway leading onto the platform. He made a mental note of several camera mounts positioned in the ceiling corners. “Hello, sir,” one of the men said from behind the counter.
Trenton nodded to them with a slight tug on his brim. Neither of the guards showed enough interest to actually come over and investigate. He examined his watch again. 10:37PM.
A train howled coming through the tunnel on approach to Vineyard Station. The automated train engine emerged from the tunnel trailing five passenger cars. When the car doors opened with a hydraulic hiss, the yellow barrier gates followed suit—five gates swung open giving access to this lone passenger. Trenton boarded and sat down in the empty train car.
The computer controlling the train waited two more minutes, sounded an intent-to-board alarm bell then closed the passenger cars. Trenton pulled a current newspaper from his briefcase, began reading and waited. No other passengers had boarded while in Hilton, just as he had expected.
In a matter of minutes, the train covered miles of underground and overland track. It left the Hilton borough altogether—immediately entering the Branton borough. Trenton read with the pages held aloft blocking his view of any passengers who might board. All he heard at each stop were the doors. He waited.
When the computerized female voice announced that his train had passed into the Donalee borough, Trenton’s palms began to sweat. This was it—his field experiment was about to happen. The train stopped at the Proward Street station—the same as the news article Trenton had read. The door hissed and opened. The smell of sweat and cigarette smoke invaded the train car along with several sets of footsteps.
Trenton’s newspaper exploded away from his hands revealing four armed men—two with knives, one with a lead pipe, the last swinging a thick chain. Trenton noticed two overly made-up young women waiting outside the subway car door. One held a .38 caliber pistol—Saturday night special. Two of the men grabbed Trenton out of his seat and slung him out of the train onto the platform. Trenton stumbled but did not resist. The doors closed back into place. Seconds later the automated train left the station, leaving the famous geneticist behind.
Trenton stood on stained gray concrete in the midst of the four men and two women on the Proward Station platform. Graffiti adorned every wall. “The wallet and briefcase now, fancy pants!” one of the men said. Trenton searched for camera mounts and found all of them torn down.
He smiled. Perfect.
2 CHAOS
Detective Michael Stamos depressed the button to roll down the passenger side window of his unmarked police cruiser. “Richard do you have to smoke those things?” he asked. “You’re gonna get cancer.”
“At least I’ll die happy,” Richard said. He blew a stream of cigarette smoke out the window.
“Well I don’t want cancer. My dad passed away last year.”
Richard looked at him. “I thought he had a heart attack.”
“What’s your point? He died…I don’t want you to kill me with your nasty habit.”
Richard chuckled, drew a final drag and flicked the butt out the window. “Happy?”
“I will be when you finally quit.” He rolled the window back up.
“Maybe I’ll quit when you get married.”
“Hey now, I like my space,” Michael said. He turned a corner keeping one eye on the GPS screen.
“You’ll never find a woman with that attitude. You gotta give a little—stop being such a lone wolf.”
“I like lone wolf and who says I’m looking?” He turned another corner and ran through a red light—siren blaring outside and police lights flashing. “Besides, I’ve got you,”
“Now that’s scary,” Richard said, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah…I mean, if I want someone to nag me about what I’m doing and where I’m going, I’ve got you. I don’t need a wife for that.”
Richard ran his thick fingers through his wavy gray hair. “Do we have any information on this one?”
“Just six dead bangers.”
“A Joy deal gone bad?”
“Sounded more like a robbery that backfired,” Michael said.
“Vigilante?” Richard mused. “Interesting.”
“That’s all we need. If they’re any of Ming’s people, we’ll have a bloodbath on our hands.”
“I should’ve capped him when we had the chance,” Richard said.
“They’d have locked you up on that one.” A multitude of police lights flashed down the road ahead of them—a swarm of angry fireflies. “The guy was unarmed.”
“Yeah, but he was guilty,” Richard said.
“You know how that goes.”
“Would’ve been nice to get him when he was still just a two-bit punk,” Richard said as he checked his sidearm beneath his beige sport coat. “Now nobody can get near him.”
Michael pulled up to the subway station at Proward Street. He and Richard got out of the car with their badges ready just in case some rookie tried to stop them crossing the police line. They ducked under the black and yellow tape and walked through a nest of black and whites.
The two detectives entered the Proward Street subway station, passing several officers they knew well. An emergency entrance bypassed the turnstiles and all the traffic flowed through it. Mike and Richard walked through with several forensics technicians and followed them down three flights of stairs to the large subway platform below.
Emergency lighting had been imported because most of the platform lighting had been damaged. Fluorescent bulbs still flickered. A uniformed police officer vomited into a station-labeled trashcan. “Oh boy.” Richard sighed. “It’s gonna be one of those nights.”
“Nothing we haven’t seen before,” Michael said. But as he and his partner entered the crime scene, Michael realized he was wrong.
Crime scene investigators and technicians worked like ants gathering food for the winter. The entire platform was showered with gore. Cameras flashed almost continually. Richard stood wide-eyed. Michael felt like joining the uniform at the trashcan.
The area had been taped off to prevent officers from messing up the crime scene. Michael and Richard remained behind it. The call involved six gang members. One, a female, lay dead with her own pistol shoved halfway inside her mouth. A Caucasian male had been wrapped like a horseshoe around a support pillar with his back broken. An Asian male, gang member lay ten feet away crumpled in a heap beneath a blood-smeared wall. It appeared as though he had been swung by his legs and repeatedly smashed into the graffiti and white tile of the Proward Station platform.
Another female lay on the dirty concrete floor—her body nearly unrecognizable as being human. An African-American male had been bludgeoned to a pulp and thrown up into the roof girders—ten feet in the air.
A team worked feverishly to manually back up one of the automated passenger trains. When the men finally got it pushed back to the point where technicians could examine it, Michael saw evidence of the sixth gang member. All that remained of the man was the splash of crimson left on the front of the automated subway engine—the final resting place of a wayward insect.
“Who could’ve done this?” Michael asked.
“—Or what?” Richard licked his lips as though something fowl had been belched up.
One of the crime scene investigators, Linda Phelps, signaled Detective Link to come through the tape barrier. “Hey, Mike, we're in.”
The two detectives passed under the tape and cautiously made their way around technicians collecting forensic data. They walked over to the first female victim where Officer Phelps knelt examining the body. “The gun was forced into her mouth through her teeth,” she said. “The killer broke her fingers forcing her to pull the trigger.”
“One person did all this?” Richard asked.
“There is only one set of shoeprints besides the victims—my first impression is a loafer or dress shoe, size eleven. Whoever did this is incredibly strong—the guy in the rafters is 220 lbs easy,” Linda said.
Michael noticed the bloody prints smudged in various places on the concrete.
“So we’re looking for a linebacker on angel dust?” Richard asked.
“Try a grizzly bear,” Michael said.
“Actually, you’re both wrong,” Phelps said. “The bruising patterns suggest someone with normal handbreadth.”
Michael looked closer at the bruising on the girl’s arm. “How is that possible?”
“That’s why you’re a detective, Detective.”
Detective Michael Stamos depressed the button to roll down the passenger side window of his unmarked police cruiser. “Richard do you have to smoke those things?” he asked. “You’re gonna get cancer.”
“At least I’ll die happy,” Richard said. He blew a stream of cigarette smoke out the window.
“Well I don’t want cancer. My dad passed away last year.”
Richard looked at him. “I thought he had a heart attack.”
“What’s your point? He died…I don’t want you to kill me with your nasty habit.”
Richard chuckled, drew a final drag and flicked the butt out the window. “Happy?”
“I will be when you finally quit.” He rolled the window back up.
“Maybe I’ll quit when you get married.”
“Hey now, I like my space,” Michael said. He turned a corner keeping one eye on the GPS screen.
“You’ll never find a woman with that attitude. You gotta give a little—stop being such a lone wolf.”
“I like lone wolf and who says I’m looking?” He turned another corner and ran through a red light—siren blaring outside and police lights flashing. “Besides, I’ve got you,”
“Now that’s scary,” Richard said, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah…I mean, if I want someone to nag me about what I’m doing and where I’m going, I’ve got you. I don’t need a wife for that.”
Richard ran his thick fingers through his wavy gray hair. “Do we have any information on this one?”
“Just six dead bangers.”
“A Joy deal gone bad?”
“Sounded more like a robbery that backfired,” Michael said.
“Vigilante?” Richard mused. “Interesting.”
“That’s all we need. If they’re any of Ming’s people, we’ll have a bloodbath on our hands.”
“I should’ve capped him when we had the chance,” Richard said.
“They’d have locked you up on that one.” A multitude of police lights flashed down the road ahead of them—a swarm of angry fireflies. “The guy was unarmed.”
“Yeah, but he was guilty,” Richard said.
“You know how that goes.”
“Would’ve been nice to get him when he was still just a two-bit punk,” Richard said as he checked his sidearm beneath his beige sport coat. “Now nobody can get near him.”
Michael pulled up to the subway station at Proward Street. He and Richard got out of the car with their badges ready just in case some rookie tried to stop them crossing the police line. They ducked under the black and yellow tape and walked through a nest of black and whites.
The two detectives entered the Proward Street subway station, passing several officers they knew well. An emergency entrance bypassed the turnstiles and all the traffic flowed through it. Mike and Richard walked through with several forensics technicians and followed them down three flights of stairs to the large subway platform below.
Emergency lighting had been imported because most of the platform lighting had been damaged. Fluorescent bulbs still flickered. A uniformed police officer vomited into a station-labeled trashcan. “Oh boy.” Richard sighed. “It’s gonna be one of those nights.”
“Nothing we haven’t seen before,” Michael said. But as he and his partner entered the crime scene, Michael realized he was wrong.
Crime scene investigators and technicians worked like ants gathering food for the winter. The entire platform was showered with gore. Cameras flashed almost continually. Richard stood wide-eyed. Michael felt like joining the uniform at the trashcan.
The area had been taped off to prevent officers from messing up the crime scene. Michael and Richard remained behind it. The call involved six gang members. One, a female, lay dead with her own pistol shoved halfway inside her mouth. A Caucasian male had been wrapped like a horseshoe around a support pillar with his back broken. An Asian male, gang member lay ten feet away crumpled in a heap beneath a blood-smeared wall. It appeared as though he had been swung by his legs and repeatedly smashed into the graffiti and white tile of the Proward Station platform.
Another female lay on the dirty concrete floor—her body nearly unrecognizable as being human. An African-American male had been bludgeoned to a pulp and thrown up into the roof girders—ten feet in the air.
A team worked feverishly to manually back up one of the automated passenger trains. When the men finally got it pushed back to the point where technicians could examine it, Michael saw evidence of the sixth gang member. All that remained of the man was the splash of crimson left on the front of the automated subway engine—the final resting place of a wayward insect.
“Who could’ve done this?” Michael asked.
“—Or what?” Richard licked his lips as though something fowl had been belched up.
One of the crime scene investigators, Linda Phelps, signaled Detective Link to come through the tape barrier. “Hey, Mike, we're in.”
The two detectives passed under the tape and cautiously made their way around technicians collecting forensic data. They walked over to the first female victim where Officer Phelps knelt examining the body. “The gun was forced into her mouth through her teeth,” she said. “The killer broke her fingers forcing her to pull the trigger.”
“One person did all this?” Richard asked.
“There is only one set of shoeprints besides the victims—my first impression is a loafer or dress shoe, size eleven. Whoever did this is incredibly strong—the guy in the rafters is 220 lbs easy,” Linda said.
Michael noticed the bloody prints smudged in various places on the concrete.
“So we’re looking for a linebacker on angel dust?” Richard asked.
“Try a grizzly bear,” Michael said.
“Actually, you’re both wrong,” Phelps said. “The bruising patterns suggest someone with normal handbreadth.”
Michael looked closer at the bruising on the girl’s arm. “How is that possible?”
“That’s why you’re a detective, Detective.”
Monday, April 20, 2009
BLAGGARDS MOON by George Bryan Polivka
BLAGGARDS MOON by George Bryan Polivka, the author of the Legend of the Firefish series, has come out with another excellent novel from the world of Nearing Vast!
This piratey tale reminded me very much of recent pirate novels I've read by my friend, Wayne Batson. However there are some differences. Isle of Swords & Isle of Fire were generally slated for a little younger audience and carry a faster pace than Blaggard's Moon by far. Polivka's voice tends to be a bit more literary. He's taking his time to really craft a tale here, where the others are more of a thrill ride. Both are excellent for what they are and it simply depends upon your personal taste. If you liked the Legend of the Firefish then you won't be disappointed, but if you tend to enjoy the "thrill ride" more, then prepare to take some time with this one. One thing that jumped out at me right off the bat was Polivka's use of "Sea Monkeys." How many of us can still remember the lovable little sea monkeys in comic books that you had to send off for...I believe you ended up with a packet of sprinkles or something in the end...well, these sea monkeys may just scare you out of your wits! Enjoy :)
Monday, March 16, 2009
HUNTER BROWN AND THE SECRET OF SHADOW
HUNTER BROWN AND THE SECRET OF SHADOW by The Miller Brothers is one of the latest Christian YA fantasies to come our way and appears to be quite a hit with young people already.
The novel is set for young teens and is very similar in scope to Wayne Batson's Door Within Trilogy. Hunter is your typical awkward teen, but codebearers in another dimension already know who he is as do the vile Shadow. When Hunter is led to discover a mysterious book in a bookstore that suddenly isn't there anymore, his whole existence is turned upside down. Soon he's being hunted by Mysterious creatures he never even knew existed called the Shadow. The Book transports him into another world where an epic battle is underway and Hunter Brown is already a vital key to the ultimate outcome.
I'd recommend this one for teens and tweens and both boys and girls who enjoy portal fantasy novels will likely enjoy it!
HALLOWED BE THY NAME
Hello Everyone, I've been busy writing as always it seems and I've just released a new Christian Thriller, Action, Horror novel entitled "HALLOWED BE THY NAME."
"Feeling sure he has finally cracked the secrets of man's evolution, Dr. Trenton Hallowed uses himself as a guinea pig for his new genetic mutagen. He soon finds himself upon the threshold of unbelievable power. But a vicious beast is waking within him. An increasing number of people turn up brutally murdered in the lower districts of the city as Trenton celebrates new success. Jonathan Hallowed, the victim of a mob hit during one of Trenton Hallowed's exhibitions, wakes in a morgue drawer wrapped in a body bag. His flesh is riddled with bullet wounds, yet he lives. Jonathan must figure out what has happened to him and why the police are calling his cousin Trenton a vicious murderer. Even worse, Jonathan may be the only one who can stop him."
Click the link to purchase a paperback copy for merely the print cost -
HALLOWED BE THY NAME - PAPERBACK COPY
This has been a little bit of a departure from the YA stuff I've been working on, but I've really enjoyed it. As always, the story zoooms along with plenty of action.
HALLOWED BE THY NAME - PAPERBACK COPY
This has been a little bit of a departure from the YA stuff I've been working on, but I've really enjoyed it. As always, the story zoooms along with plenty of action.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
CYNDERE'S MIDNIGHT by JEFFREY OVERSTREET
CYNDERE'S MIDNIGHT by JEFFREY OVERSTREET is the new sequel to Auralia's Colors by Waterbrook Publishing.
House Abascar has fallen in a torrential firestorm and Auralia has been transformed and taken by the mysterious Northchildren. In the wake of the destruction King Calraven tries to hold together the refugee survivors of his once great house, Auralia's young friend, ale boy, now impervious to flame, roams the land saving people from the ruins and from Cent Regus beastmen seeking to plunder the remains. Meanwhile, the heiress, Cyndere, has lost her husband to the beastmen as he sought to find survivors in Abascars ruins and she hopes to fulfill their dream of freeing the brutish beastmen from the Cent Regus curse of the Essence.
Mr. Overstreet has not lost his flare for dramatic prose. It is quite lyrical at times and while some complain of the broken conventions of writing, I say, rules were made to be broken--at least if it produces an interesting product. On the upbeat, Cyndere's midnight seems more focused than its predecessor and Overstreet being a Christian novelist we can begin to find the allegory that may be lurking beneath the obvious. Personally, I'm glad to see that element coming out...at least I believe I'm seeing it :)
On the downbeat, Cyndere's midnight suffers a bit from the lack of Auralia. And while I understand the progression of the plot, she was a very interesting character. Still Cyndere begins to become endearing, though I have to say, my personal favorites here are the ale boy and the beastman, Jordam. The beastmen are great characters and add the action element here. Unfortunately the novel doesn't MOVE swiftly, but for the patient reader, you'll find an enjoyable sequel.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
CHRONICLES OF SOONE:RISE OF LUCIN AVAILABLE!
HEY FOLKS, I wanted to let you know that The Chronicles of Soone: Rise of Lucin is now available in two formats!
Lucin, the Fallen One, is victorious on planet Castai and the reign of the king has ended in a savage coup. The final days of mankind's hope are fading with the rise of a sinister foe.
THE MIGHTY FALL
King Tiet Soone and a small band of warriors have barely escaped planet Castai with their lives. No place is safe for them with Lucin on the hunt.
A FINAL PROPHECY
A mysterious prophet has come to direct the king towards his destiny—a second confrontation with Lucin and his army of assimilated humans. But with the reconciliation of Lucin's Mithrial brethren, the Agonotti, the odds for success are worse than ever. Outnumbered and outmatched, the king must risk all he has left or witness the end of mankind.
This sequel to COS:Heir to the King has tons of action and a lot of plot twists...I don't want to give it away, but a major character meets his demise in this one! Thanks to Jeremy Robinson for another great cover!
Monday, January 26, 2009
NEW "BIBLE-SMART" STUDY BLOG LAUNCHED!
Please take a look at my new Bible-Smart blog!! This is "a bible study for the average joe" in hopes of making God's Word more accessible and understandable--check it out and leave comments and questions at will.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
ANOTHER DAY IN HISTORY
WEll, we stand upon the making of history today with our first Black President. Some people are mad, some sad, some worrying themselves to death over what this all portends for Christians. I for one am not the least bit worried.
I know some may think our next president is the anti-christ or something or the kind, but biblically I'm sure that isn't the case. That person will ride into history after the Christ removes the church (according to the order given in Revelation).
I'm reminded that God has not lost control of the world for even a moment and the same goes for today. The next administration should be an interesting one to be sure, but God is still in control. WE are a day closer to the coming of the Lord Jesus today-the same could be said for yesterday, and the day before that.
Beyond everything happening in the world, I'm confident that no matter my personal circumstances, God is firmly in control. I'm saved by his gracious sacrifice for my sins and no one can take away Eternal Life granted unto me through faith in Jesus Christ. I'm glad God elected/ chose to accept everyone who would believe on His son and glad that God convinced me to receive him as my personal savior and become a part of that elect group.
Everything is right with the world...God's plan and purpose is right on schedule...and believers must simply strive to do the work we are left here to do--proclaim salvation through God's son, his sacrifice for the cleansing of sin, his resurrection for our justification and his soon coming again!NOthing in the world can stop God's purposes...that allows me peace which passes all understanding!
Monday, November 17, 2008
SHADE by John B. Olson
Christy Award–winner for Oxygen, Olson, a biochemist-turned-novelist, keeps pace with a page-turning thriller that will please fans of paranormal spiritual battle tales. In a goth-vampire–infused mind-bending race through the streets and underworld of San Francisco, Hailey Maniates discovers a deeper diagnosis than paranoid schizophrenia for her hallucinations. One man wants her as bait in a cosmic duel, and another—Melchi, the child of prophecy—wants to save her life. With the help of her graduate school friends and Melchi, Hailey turns from victim to fellow soldier with Melchi in the battle against the evil Mulo, the spirits of the dead who act like vampires. With breathless pacing, a sharp sense of suspense, memorable descriptions and a churning plot, this novel is a must-read for those who enjoy such authors as Ted Dekker and Frank Peretti. Readers will appreciate carefully woven themes from Dracula, science, faith, conspiracy theory and divine battle. Christian themes surface in the supernatural warfare, and a Christian character, Susan Boggs, helps Hailey see beyond the physical world to a deeper reality.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
SHOUT OUT TO JEREMY ROBINSON!
I'd like to take a moment to send out a special SHOUT OUT to a good long distance friend, Mr. Jeremy Robinson!! In case you aren't familiar with Jeremy Robinson, he's a self made success in the publishing world and on the rise. Jeremy began his publishing career as a print-on-demand self published author utilizing LULU.COM to bring us "The Didymus Contingency." This exciting time travel thriller gained him a large fan base and the endorsement of bestselling thriller novelist, James Rollins, who consequently has endorsed Jeremy's work ever since. Following on his self published success with his first novel, Jeremy took on the task of starting his own publishing company, Breakneck Books. Jeremy put his graphic arts talent to use along with a great deal of marketing savvy and brought us his next novel, "Raising the Past," along with a gaggle of new authors like myself, (Thanks Jeremy!)
Breakneck began to see some measured success, particularly through Jeremy's broadening fan base, the release of "Antarktos Rising" and ultimately his book deal with Thomas Dunne Books. Around the same time, Breakneck Books came to merge with Variance Publishing and has seen some bestselling authors climb onboard with their latest upcoming novels.
In addition to Jeremy's new three book deal for Thomas Dunne is his continued novel releases at Variance Publishing including a re-release of "Antarktos Rising" into trade paperback. This will mark Jeremy's first official release into the realm of brick and mortar bookstores, though many more are soon to come! And if that wasn't enough, "Antarktos Rising" has been acquired by a Japanese Animation company to produce the Anime version in 2010 with a big budget! NOT BAD FOR A SELF PUBLISHED AUTHOR!
WE GIVE PROPS WHERE THEY ARE DUE AND HIS TIME HAS ARRIVED--CHECK OUT THE OCTOBER 22nd RELEASE OF "ANTARKTOS RISING" IN YOUR LOCAL BOOKSTORE AND SEE WHAT THE HYPE IS ALL ABOUT!
Monday, October 20, 2008
BEYOND THE REFLECTIONS EDGE
Bryan Davis' BEYOND THE REFLECTION'S EDGE is another well written, intriguing story to add to the expanding Christian Fiction universe. I've always been impressed by Mr. Davis' exacting prose. He's a master writer! The story involves multiplied dimensions where timelines and events are out of sync with one another. Alternate selves come and go between creating havoc and all is moving to a potential destruction of reality. What more could you ask for in great fiction?
Here's what others are saying about the novel as well :)
Bryan Davis has outdone himself again! I have been hooked on his stories since Raising Dragons and Eye of the Oracle and I thought he couldn't possibly create another work as good as these. The thrilling, mind-bending plot in Beyond the Reflection's Edge captivated me, proving me wrong, while at the same time the witty, lovable characters captured my heart. I loved this book and I can't wait to see what Bryan Davis comes up with next!
What do you get when you have interdimensional mirrors, violins that speak, and a 'broken' camera? Why, Bryan Davis' new fantasy novel of course! When Nathan Shepherd's parents are murdered during a concert, Nathan and his tutor Clara, must run for their lives before the killers find them too. With mysterious happenings behind every corner, Nathan, and his new friend Kelly, must solve the mysteries which cross multiple dimensions, before time runs out, and they are all destroyed. I was worried that after reading Davis' Dragons in our Midst and Oracles of Fire series, nothing would be able to live up to the story and characters which brought those books to life. I am pleased to say that my worries were far, far, far, from being valid. Beyond the Reflection's Edge brings some wonderful characters who are realistic and touching, as well as unique, and easy to relate to. It is, in a word, a masterpiece. The storyline is mind bending, spell binding, and heart wrenching, all at the same time. The spiritual themes are ever present, but not overbearing, and leave you with things to ponder long after the last page is turned. The story is captivating from beginning to end, and left me hungry for more. All I can say is, well done Mr. Davis! Your books are quickly becoming my standard for excellence in the Christian fantasy genre!
Monday, September 22, 2008
MARCHER LORD PRESS DAY 2
MARCHER LORD PRESS does it again with another enchanting addition to its ranks with "HERO, Second Class," by Mitchell Bonds.
This fantasy tale sets traditional high fantasy on its respective ear and then tickles it. I kn0w Mr. Bonds must keep Monty Python and the Holy Grail jammed into his DVD player because I've not had the pleasure of such wonderful silliness since watching the duel between Authur and The Black Knight.
Bonds is a wonderful storyteller and every bit of this romp is trod with tongue firmly in cheek. Its easy reading and fun to boot. What better way to spend a first class weekend than curled up with Hero, Second Class?
MARCHER LORD PRESS
Marcher Lord Press is set to meet some of the growing demand for Christian Speculative Fiction -- that by the way is not being met with the major publishers at the moment.
The Personifid Invasion by R. E. Bartlett takes up the story previously published by Realms Fiction's Personifid Project, also by Bartlett, and delves deeper into a world of human perfection gone horribly wrong. Similar in scope and feel to Scott Westerfields, The Uglies series, this novel series adds the dimension of wicked spirits inhabiting the new bodies people are trading up for. Becoming a Personifid, means becoming artificial but perfect. It also means you might be under demonic control. The writing is crisp and clean and will keep you turning the pages.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Broken Angel by Sigmund Brouwers
Broken Angel by Sigmund Brouwers is up this month on the Christian Sci-fi / Fantasy blog tour!
"In this addictively readable futuristic Christian dystopia, Brouwer (The Last Disciple) takes readers inside a state run by literalistic, controlling fundamentalists. There, reading is a serious crime; citizens are drugged into submission; and those who break rules are either sent to slave labor factories or stoned to death. Occasionally, a few brave souls try to escape to 'Outside.'
"At the center of this novel is Caitlyn, a disfigured but graceful and brave young woman whose father essentially orders her to make a run for it. For reasons not revealed (even to Caitlyn) until the very end, she is chased by a variety of people who want her dead or alive. While trying to escape, Caitlin meets up with two traveling companions who have their own reasons for fleeing, and she is aided by a sort of underground railroad. Its leaders believe the fundamentalist government has distorted true Christianity, so they risk everything to help people get Outside to freedom.
"The terrific pacing is surpassed only by the character development; the many supporting characters are extremely well-drawn. Brouwer adds even more suspense by regularly revealing that some of these characters are not who they appear to be."
- Publisher's Weekly
"At the center of this novel is Caitlyn, a disfigured but graceful and brave young woman whose father essentially orders her to make a run for it. For reasons not revealed (even to Caitlyn) until the very end, she is chased by a variety of people who want her dead or alive. While trying to escape, Caitlin meets up with two traveling companions who have their own reasons for fleeing, and she is aided by a sort of underground railroad. Its leaders believe the fundamentalist government has distorted true Christianity, so they risk everything to help people get Outside to freedom.
"The terrific pacing is surpassed only by the character development; the many supporting characters are extremely well-drawn. Brouwer adds even more suspense by regularly revealing that some of these characters are not who they appear to be."
- Publisher's Weekly
Monday, August 11, 2008
NEW CATALOG FOR MY PUBLISHER!
Hey folks, my publisher, Variance Publishing, has just come out with their new catalog which includes my first novel, The Chronicles of Soone: Heir to the King.
I'm stoked about the possibilities with this merger of my former publisher, Breakneck Books and Variance. They've got a starting lineup of New York Times and International bestselling authors, so they mean business!
I'm hoping to see great things and be a part of great things over here. I've got two manuscripts up for a submission at Variance, (an action thriller, "HALLOWED BE THY NAME") & (a YA fantasy, "A World Within").
Both are chock full of action and fun characters, so it depends on which one meets the current demand at Variance.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
DONITA K. PAUL'S "DRAGON LIGHT"
DONITA K. PAUL'S "DRAGON LIGHT" is a fresh and often humorous cap to her very successful Dragon keeper Chronicles. The characters are engaging, though, in true High Fantasyese, many of the names are difficult to pronounce. I had not read her previous novels, but with the aid of the glossary in the back getting up to speed with the different races and terms was not difficult.
The novel is charming, presents some new twists on dragons and wizards I found interesting (especially Ms. Paul's further explanation on her "wizards" powers in the world she's created), and even better there was a very cool villian to face in the story. I highly recommend the novel and may find myself out obtaining the earlier novels as well.
Ms. Paul is also a part of the new MOTIV8 Christian Fantasy tour and here's a bit more from that site about Ms. Paul.
The author of The Dragon Keeper Chronicles answers some of our questions. Not all. She was hard to catch between her bouts of obsessive writing.
How did you begin writing?
I began my career as a writer because my mother was tired of my singing. Now you are probably envisioning some young thing vocalizing around the house in an off-tune manner as a June Cleaver-type mom tries to prepare dinner.
Not quite.
I was 46 and the one fixing dinner.
I had been a school teacher, and Mom was used to blessed quiet while I and my two teens spent most of the day away from the house. But I got this weird infection in my leg that disabled me and ended my life as a permanent first grader.
So I was home . . . singing . . . loudly . . . usually on pitch . . . very shaky on the lyrics, but no problem. I was perfectly willing to make up my own words.
And I liked to sing the same song over and over. Kind of a mindless background to whatever I was doing.
“Tomorrow” from Annie was, and is, one of my favorites.
Sweetly my mother said to me, “If you sing “Tomorrow” one more time, there may not be a tomorrow in your future.” And I got sent to my room.
Honestly. She said, “Go to your room and write a book.” So I did, and the rest is history.
Now, why do you have spiritual truths tucked in odd places in your books?
For the same reason a baseball enthusiast says he’s “batting 1000” when he does well on a job project. For the same reason a fisherman says he “landed a big one” when he’s talking about a sale he made at work. For the same reason an astronaut says “fly me to the moon,” when he asks for benefits with his pay package. For the same reason those guys hit a line drive, catch something hook, line, and sinker, or blast-off. It is their lingo. And after being a Christian for many, many years, and before that “thinking” I was a Christian from the cradle up, I just verbalize in terms of homeruns. I mean, I verbalize in terms of how God works in my life. It would be very difficult to hide my beliefs and not let them infiltrate my stories.
What do you hope to accomplish as a writer?
I assume you don’t want a crass answer like “bigger and more frequent paychecks.” I didn’t think so. It’s very hard for me to claim noble intent. I like to tell stories. I like to reveal things that God has revealed to me. I like to make people feel better. I like to offer hope. I love truth. I especially like to comfort people with the same comfort with which God has comforted me.
So, I want to reveal God’s Truth, inspire believers, persuade non-believers to give God a chance, and entertain the multitudes. The acronym for that is RIPE. When we offer someone fruit that is ripe, it is appealing and nutritious. I’m hoping the fruit my tree bears is ripe.
What excites you about this West Coast Fantasy Fiction Tour?
ROAD TRIP!
WACKY COMPADRES!
WONDERFUL READERS!
GOD SHOWING UP AT EVERY TURN!
Sights and sounds I’ve never seen before. Scenic vistas. Long hours in a van. Strange hotel beds every evening. Restaurant food, morning, noon, and night. Maybe even communicable viruses. Who wouldn’t be excited?
8 fantasy writers from 8 different publishing houses visiting 8 cities in 8 days, motiv8ting readers to explore fantastic positive literature.
What about that statement makes you willing to face the viruses?
Two things.
First the unity of it. We’re working together without regard to the commercial aspect of who gets the biggest profit.
And what we’re working for is the second thing: Putting positive literature in front of readers, offering a delicious array of nurturing books, increasing their awareness of God, and strengthening their hold on the Truth.
I close with a true story called Grand Prize.
Thursday, June 17th, 2008, around eleven o’clock AM Mountain time, I received one of the Grand Prizes given out to writers.
The award was given at a book signing at Mardels. I had no idea God had orchestrated the presentation. I signed a book after a brief conversation with a shy and beautiful teen girl. She leaned over and whispered, “My friend and I have decided to keep our relationships pure like Kale and Bardon did in your books.” She picked up her autographed copy and skedaddled, unaware that tears had sprung to my eyes and I was hallelujahing all over the place in the privacy of spontaneous worship to our Lord.
The accolades of men are nice. An affirmation from God is GRAND PRIZE.
How did you begin writing?
I began my career as a writer because my mother was tired of my singing. Now you are probably envisioning some young thing vocalizing around the house in an off-tune manner as a June Cleaver-type mom tries to prepare dinner.
Not quite.
I was 46 and the one fixing dinner.
I had been a school teacher, and Mom was used to blessed quiet while I and my two teens spent most of the day away from the house. But I got this weird infection in my leg that disabled me and ended my life as a permanent first grader.
So I was home . . . singing . . . loudly . . . usually on pitch . . . very shaky on the lyrics, but no problem. I was perfectly willing to make up my own words.
And I liked to sing the same song over and over. Kind of a mindless background to whatever I was doing.
“Tomorrow” from Annie was, and is, one of my favorites.
Sweetly my mother said to me, “If you sing “Tomorrow” one more time, there may not be a tomorrow in your future.” And I got sent to my room.
Honestly. She said, “Go to your room and write a book.” So I did, and the rest is history.
Now, why do you have spiritual truths tucked in odd places in your books?
For the same reason a baseball enthusiast says he’s “batting 1000” when he does well on a job project. For the same reason a fisherman says he “landed a big one” when he’s talking about a sale he made at work. For the same reason an astronaut says “fly me to the moon,” when he asks for benefits with his pay package. For the same reason those guys hit a line drive, catch something hook, line, and sinker, or blast-off. It is their lingo. And after being a Christian for many, many years, and before that “thinking” I was a Christian from the cradle up, I just verbalize in terms of homeruns. I mean, I verbalize in terms of how God works in my life. It would be very difficult to hide my beliefs and not let them infiltrate my stories.
What do you hope to accomplish as a writer?
I assume you don’t want a crass answer like “bigger and more frequent paychecks.” I didn’t think so. It’s very hard for me to claim noble intent. I like to tell stories. I like to reveal things that God has revealed to me. I like to make people feel better. I like to offer hope. I love truth. I especially like to comfort people with the same comfort with which God has comforted me.
So, I want to reveal God’s Truth, inspire believers, persuade non-believers to give God a chance, and entertain the multitudes. The acronym for that is RIPE. When we offer someone fruit that is ripe, it is appealing and nutritious. I’m hoping the fruit my tree bears is ripe.
What excites you about this West Coast Fantasy Fiction Tour?
ROAD TRIP!
WACKY COMPADRES!
WONDERFUL READERS!
GOD SHOWING UP AT EVERY TURN!
Sights and sounds I’ve never seen before. Scenic vistas. Long hours in a van. Strange hotel beds every evening. Restaurant food, morning, noon, and night. Maybe even communicable viruses. Who wouldn’t be excited?
8 fantasy writers from 8 different publishing houses visiting 8 cities in 8 days, motiv8ting readers to explore fantastic positive literature.
What about that statement makes you willing to face the viruses?
Two things.
First the unity of it. We’re working together without regard to the commercial aspect of who gets the biggest profit.
And what we’re working for is the second thing: Putting positive literature in front of readers, offering a delicious array of nurturing books, increasing their awareness of God, and strengthening their hold on the Truth.
I close with a true story called Grand Prize.
Thursday, June 17th, 2008, around eleven o’clock AM Mountain time, I received one of the Grand Prizes given out to writers.
The award was given at a book signing at Mardels. I had no idea God had orchestrated the presentation. I signed a book after a brief conversation with a shy and beautiful teen girl. She leaned over and whispered, “My friend and I have decided to keep our relationships pure like Kale and Bardon did in your books.” She picked up her autographed copy and skedaddled, unaware that tears had sprung to my eyes and I was hallelujahing all over the place in the privacy of spontaneous worship to our Lord.
The accolades of men are nice. An affirmation from God is GRAND PRIZE.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Hey folks...In recent news:
The Chronicles of Soone will be available around fall in bookstores from my publisher, Variance Publishing. If the book does well in this reprint then the entire series may be picked up for mass market editions :) I'm hopeful of course.
Also, I've been working to prepare the Ethan Hawk and the Realm Shift manuscript for the International Christian Retail Show coming up in July--my agent will be presenting the manuscript to publishers there :) once again I'm hopeful!
I've been doing work on the second Ethan Hawk manuscript and also doing revisions to my older "A World Within" epic fantasy...this one hasn't been taken out to the gate yet...maybe one of these days :)
we'll see what happens!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
