Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Is winter here to stay?

A few days ago it was 70 degrees and there was even a day that neared 80 degrees, but today it's snowing once again. Luckily for me I am off so I don't have to be working outside in this winter like weather. I often think about what it would be like if the seasons never existed or if we were stuck in a winter like purgatory for good. How long would most individuals last? A year or maybe more?

Just think of that unimaginable horror for a moment...

Terrible right? Just like in George R.R. Martin's, A song of Ice and Fire, an epic novel series that inspired the show, Game of Thrones. In his land, where summer's can last for decades and the winter, well, it can last for a lifetime. To me there is nothing more terrifying than experiencing the icy grip of winter and knowing that it has it's course to run until spring can arrive, but come on, it's spring already. I'm waiting for the White Walkers to arrive and the Night King to be leading the way.

With that aside, now I'm adding an element to my apocalyptic series, Abolition, that will be a similar theme. I think every epic series needs a dark element that makes the reader shiver with fear. Now I'm not going to give away my story just yet, only because I am  currently writing books three and four in the series as we speak, but just wanted to share this with you guys. Any thoughts? If so, please share.

Now with that being said, I've been working on a small piece that will be in an anthology with other great writer's The book is due to come out late this year, but nonetheless it's exciting for me to be a part of it. So I wanted to share a little sneak peek of it with you guys. My piece is titled, Locks and Damned, so please read and tell me what you think. Obviously I'm in the editing process still, so any advice would be nice. Thanks again. Enjoy.



He was late and he knew it. It was the first night on his new job, which he desperately needed, but instead he chose to get drunk. Brent knew he had a drinking problem, but he didn’t care, nor did he have the time to deal with it. Way to go, the first night on your new job and you’re blowing it, you dumbass. His father’s words echoed in his mind as he raced towards the river dock.
Brent had just turned twenty five years old and he was still living with his parents. This new job paid well and could even be a possible career job, if he didn’t screw it up. You’re blowing it, you dumbass. Once again the memory of his father’s words stung, just as the cold, foggy air stung his face. Brent struggled to keep his feet on the old, slippery cobblestones that led down to docks. His drunkenness had gotten the better of him a few times, but each time he slipped or fell, he picked himself back up and continued on through the fog.
It was well after midnight and the barge he worked on was scheduled to leave at 12 o’clock sharp, or at least that’s what the captain had told him during his last interview. Brent picked up his pace. He knew he was getting closer for he was surrounded by storefronts on each side of him now. Over the years the riverside had gentrified to become a shopper’s paradise. Decades ago people would have never dreamed of coming down to the river’s docks, unless you were a fisherman or a worked a river barge, but now those jobs were a thing of the past. A long forgotten past that most people had almost forgotten completely. Now people flocked to the area to purchase clothing, special coffee drinks, and perfumes.
The Sasquatch was the last river barge working in Newburg. You had to travel about fifty miles downriver or upriver until you would come across another river barge. The Sasquatch was a behemoth. Altogether there were fifteen barges tied together, three wide and five long. The length caused the end to disappear into the horizon at dusk, and be out of sight during misty days.
Brent was nervous as hell though. The boat was massive and intimidating, but at least he wasn’t piloting it, no, he was serving as a new deckhand. During his interview the captain informed him that the last deckhand had fallen overbroad. The crew attempted to rescue him, but the strong river’s current pulled him down and so he drowned. It took emergency rescuers about a week until they finally recovered his body. So I’m replacing a dead guy, Brent thought as he finally saw the beast of a boat appear before him out of nowhere through the thick nighttime fog. The boat hadn’t left yet, which was a good thing, but Brent wished they had left him behind. His nerves and his stress level would have subsided and he could’ve continued drinking and relaxing.
While undoing rope tie downs one of his fellow deckhands took notice of Brent approaching. “It’s about damn time. We were about to leave without you.      If it had been up to me, we would’ve left twenty minutes ago,” he snarled to Brent.

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