Some of my favorite shows that inspire me and my writing

So I'm going to do something a little bit different this time around. I'm going to share with you some of my favorite shows. When I first started writing my Abolition Series in 2010, that's when The Walking Dead premiered and I was like, wow this show is so amazing, but yet disappointing to me at the same time, being that Abolition was apocalyptic fiction genre, just like The Walking Dead. So of course I changed some of my writing to make Abolition different, only because I didn't want to be compared to The Walking Dead since at the time I was trying to find an agent and publisher for my book.

So as I'm writing Abolition, I'm following The Walking Dead as well and of course it became a influence for me and my writing. The first three seasons were fantastic, but now, wow the show is awful. The writer's have grown lazy and character's story lines have become dull. I refuse to let my writing become that way, so I've been trying to incorporate more colorful characters and strong character subplots into my writing. Sorry Walking Dead, but you're dead to me.

Now Game of Thrones. I have read all the books and I am a fan of both the show and the books. Each are different in their own way, but nonetheless the writing for the books and the show is incredible. A Song of Ice and Fire are easily one of my favorite fantasy book series that I have read and Game of Thrones is high up on the list of my favorite shows. Just yesterday they announced that the show's final season wouldn't return until 2019. WAIT! WHAT? 2019 are they crazy? Of course that's what everyone is saying on social media, but I get it from a writer's viewpoint. They want the final season of the show to be epic, especially because there is only going to be six episodes, but longer movie like episodes. I have faith that the writer's will do their job and do it well, and give the show an ending it's fan and the show deserves.

Stranger Things. Netflix has become an amazing source of great original shows. Stranger Things is an amazing nostalgic show that takes me back to my childhood, but with great music and better writing to go along with it. I'm happy that Netflix has renewed Stranger Things with a season three and four. I look forward to see the Upside Down once more.

So now with all these shows on their breaks I've been searching for another show and I have found it. Once again it's another Netflix show, Godless, and I'm hooked. Great writing, acting, the music, the beautiful landscape, cinema photography, etc. Godless makes me feel like I'm out west in the 1880's. So Godless will have to do until I find another show to hold me over until my other favorite shows return. These shows help inspire me to create a world just like in Abolition that my readers can get lost into and strive to make my writing better.

What's your favorite shows or inspiration? I hope you enjoyed this blog post. With all this cold weather consuming us, it makes for good reading time or binge watching a show. So grab a blanket and your comfy clothes and do just that. Cheers!

Writing and more writing

Greetings everyone,

These past few months have been a total blur to me. Not only have I purchased a home, but my day job has been crazy busy because of the holiday season, and has consumed most of my life, but despite all the craziness going on I have been writing. I've been writing four stories at once. When I first started writing I told myself that I would never do that to myself, but here I am now. I'm not regretting it because I know once they are completed it'll be worth it and rewarding in the end.

When I first started my Abolition Series, first of all I never imagined that I would write two books, but here I am writing a third and now a fourth. That's right, I am writing books three and four at the same time. I don't want to be one of those writer's who write a series and begins to water it down with each book that's released, and next thing they realize is that they're seven books into a series and they decide to end it abruptly and makes for a confusing end, and most of all a pissed off reader. No, I want Abolition to mean something to myself and the reader. The series have evolved into many sub genres since it's conception and I'm so pleased with the direction it's going. I only hope my readers will feel the same way. Each book stands alone from each other, but without each book one there could be no book two, and without book two there could be no book three. Does that make sense? Well to me it does. I'm really pushing my Abolition Series and I hope takes off for me within the next few years, but book four will most likely be the last book in the series.

Also, I've been working on the second book in my Lilly Series. At first I didn't want to make Lilly into a series, but after all the positive feedback from Lilly and the enjoyment from writing a thriller/horror book, I decided that there would be a book two.

I am currently writing another new novel as well. It will be titled Distortion. It is a fictional dark comedy genre. I've always thoroughly enjoyed reading dark comedies and now I'm attempting to write one. It'll be a while until it's completed, but I at least wanted to get the news out there to you guys.

Last but not least, I've decided to share a piece that I've been working on. I'm not going to tell you guys what story it is from yet, but a reminder that it is a rough draft only. So I'm sure there will be many errors in my writing so please be kind. I'm just really excited to share with you and I haven't posted anything in a while so here you go. Enjoy. Also, please leave comments. Cheers!

Prologue

Darkness surrounded him, from all sides there was darkness. There was no sunlight or moonlight to distinguish night from the day, at least not in the last twenty years or so. To him those days were only a myth, a story that parents would tell their children before they put them to bed. Both he and his sister were raised in total darkness. It was all they knew, besides the stories that was told to them from their mother. Those stories which in fact fueled him and gave him a reason to live, but his sister was the complete opposite. She tried to survive by the easy way and decided that there was no hope left for humanity, and wanted to live in hiding from the enemy.

            His mother was dying and he knew that she would be dead upon his return, but he had to do his part. There was a certain man he was looking for, a man who once led the rebellion and the war against the enemy. He was a man that his father fought alongside with and had the upmost respect for. This man even saved his life once when he was a young child. That was last time he had ever saw this man. Afterwards he had disappeared and his whereabouts have been a mystery ever since. Some say that he was a time traveler and his mission failed, so he had returned back to his time and reality, others say he went into another dimension, there were a lot of amazing stories that surrounded the man that was named Quinn.

            Only his torchlight guided him through the darkness. He knew it was a risk to carry one, but it was his only hope. There were some places so dark that he couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his own face, and only his slow moving feet could keep him on the right path. Each step was nerve-racking. Many have perished on this road because many have chosen not to carry a torch and those fools lose their footing only to tumble down a cliff to their death. There was no horizon that separated the sky from the earth. There was no sunlight that could penetrate the darkness. There were no food crops. The weather could be extreme at times, which included high winds and cold temperatures that mostly stayed well below freezing. Venturing into the wilderness was to some complete suicide, but not to him. He knew the paths well, and many he learned as a child, but most of all he learned how to stay survive.

            Suddenly those memories of when Quinn saved him as a child had come flooding back. He was only eight years old when he first met Quinn and that was the only time he met him. He was young and dumb, but desperately wanted to see the place his father always talked about and longed to see, the Valley. It was the home of his father and the place he died trying to win back from the enemy. There the enemy’s power was the strongest. The darkness there was so thick that still to this day he remembered the sensation it gave him. The hairs upon his own neck stood on end and a chill ran down his spine.

            He stood on a high ridge and remembered looking down into the Valley below, but to him it was only a black sea of darkness, except for the floating orbs. Till then the orbs were only a myth to him, but after seeing them with his own eyes, they instilled a fear into him that still to this day haunted him. They floated in silence; many swirled with blue and green colors. They were beautiful and mesmerizing at the same time. It was as if they were calling to him to come near, but then he felt it, a hard hand upon his right shoulder. Suddenly he was spun around, and there a man stood before him, with a torch lighting his hard, stern face.

            “You’re coming with me, boy. Your mother is worried sick about you,” the man said.

            Quinn was a huge man, or at least to his eight year old mind he was, but yet, there was gentleness to him that reminded him of his father. He tried to resist Quinn, but he was too strong and easily overpowered him.

            “I want to see my father,” he screamed out.

            Quinn quickly covered his mouth, “Listen, boy. Do you want us killed? Trust me when I say this, but your father is dead. Now keep quiet and once we get you closer to home, then you can ask me more questions,” Quinn explained.

            Once Quinn safely brought him home, he just left him. There were no answers to any of questions, especially the ones pertaining to his father. He felt lost and hopeless, but worst of all was the beating his received from his mother that day. He remembered how his older sister just laughed while she watched him get punished. For days he wasn’t able to sit down properly, but even after all that he still didn’t learn his lesson. He would venture out into the wilderness in search for Quinn. Every once in a while he would get lucky and find pockets of the last stand, and they would direct him in the last known whereabouts of Quinn, but somehow Quinn was always one step ahead of him. Years and years he searched, but all had been in vain, just like his current quest had been in vain as well.

            He was headed home now, although he didn’t want to. Once again he felt hopeless and lost in this world that he supposedly had a purpose to live for. He remembered as a small child that his father told him, “Son, you’ll be the savior of mankind and so will your sister. You both have to take care of one another. Do you understand?” he said.

            Each day his father protected him and made sure that nothing would happen to him or his sister, even their mother felt the same, but after his father had died their mother’s hope and love had died with him. She became angry, violent, and overly protective of them both. Over the past few years their mother had developed a disease that was incurable, and both he and his sister knew that it was inevitable that death would take her soon. As he wandered closer to home he knew that she was already dead. He could feel it deep within his bones, but there was no sadness that overcame him, for it was as if his soul had died years ago too. He learned to cope with great pain, sadness, and evil, for he grew up in the time of total darkness, and the darkness was part of him.

            He finally made it into the village in which he, his sister, and their mother lived. It was one of the last known villages of survivors left standing. Over the years the enemy had devastated the surviving villages and now there were only a few pockets of survivors clinging onto hope. His village consisted of about five hundred people and was considered the largest community of survivors. They all worked together and learned to survive and keep one another alive.

            As he made his way through the village, many individuals respected him and showed their respects, not only towards him and who he was, but for who his parents were as well. Many of the older survivors fought along with his parents and even some of them fought against them in the Great War. During the war, all of humanity eventually united for one cause. They knew who the real enemy was and knew by uniting together would be their only chance for survival, but of course there were differences and ignorance that got in the way, which resulted in humanities defeat. The entire human race was almost eradicated, but men like Quinn, his father, and his mother, refused to make that a reality and fought against the enemy.

Another update

So I'm off today from my day job, but not from writing. I'm currently working on three projects. One being Abolition Book Three and another project of a separate genre that is currently untitled. I'm also outlining Lilly's sequel. Also, I'm working on a novella for my writers group. We are putting together an anthology of our works. We're planning to have it published and available for-sale at festivals and readings we will attend in the future. Speaking of readings, we will be at Later Alligator in Wheeling, Wv on Tuesday September 26th at 8:30. So if you're able to come out, please do. Not only will there be good food, but you'll be able to hear many of our local talented writers sharing their work.

Now I have updated you on my progress and I am working feverishly to get Abolition Book Three finished. I will keep you updated on release dates for my books and the writers anthology book as well. In the meantime check out my sample chapters I have released on my blog for Abolition Book Three and if you haven't read any of my books yet, please do, and let me know your opinion on them.

                                                                                                                        Happy reading and cheers!
 

New sample from Abolition Book Three

Here's another sample chapter from Abolition Book Three. Again it's only a rough draft, but please 

comment. Enjoy!

Madness had stricken the Harbinger’s group. A night of celebration followed after their victory over the Watch and the seizing of the Valley, but quickly the celebration ended. George feared for his life, not only with being around these men, but what he was now witnessing. Many of the Harbinger’s men had become deathly ill. George tried to warn him that it was the virus, but the Harbinger wanted to hear none of it. The Harbinger had sent some of his best men in search for Cynthia, Lucky, and Mongoose, for they never found their bodies. Marcus knew they were still alive and gotten away. They know these lands better than any and they’ll probably never get captured.

            Many of the men had campfires built along the sandy banks of the river. Each group was enjoying the findings from their recent plunders. Many were getting drunk on different types of alcohol and others were taking turns on women they had captured. The Harbinger’s men didn’t find too many women that survived the onslaught, but the ones they did find probably wished they had died during the battle.

            Then the floating orbs came. At first George noticed them before anybody else. Then Marcus took notice and quickly he began screaming for men to take cover. Hours before, Marcus had come to speak with George about his ordeal. He talked about the lights he had witnessed in the forest and how one of those orbs entered his body and took control. George had no answer to his questions. All George could do was think back to when Lucky was possessed and stabbed Mongoose. There was some kind of supernatural power at work in the world and George couldn’t believe even what his eyes were seeing right now.

            The orbs were inching closer and closer towards the Harbinger’s men and it was as if their campfires were drawing them near. Marcus rose to his feet and screamed, “Everyone take cover and protect yourselves from the lights. Run!”

            Even the Harbinger stood and blinked for a moment and then realized that what he was seeing was indeed real, but still he couldn’t make sense of what it was. Quickly he ordered his men to fall back away from the riverbank. Marcus quickly confronted his captain. “Are you mad? Don’t fall back into the wilderness, that’s where they have come from. Tell the men to take cover in the river,” Marcus said.

            By then it was too late, most of the men had already headed into the woods and George knew those individuals were doomed. He agreed with Marcus about falling into the river. So quickly he gathered himself and forced his feet to run as quickly as they could carry him. Soon enough he was neck deep in the freezing cold water and others had quickly joined him. George could see that Marcus and the Harbinger were some of the few that made it into the water, and to their surprise the lights didn’t follow them, but instead followed the men that took cover in the woods.

George, Marcus, and the Harbinger watched in horror while the orbs began attacking the men. The sounds of gunfire could be heard and the lights from their muzzles lit up the woods. George knew what was happening, as did Marcus. The orbs were entering their bodies and possessing those men, and now those men were killing their brothers who weren’t possessed. Screams and cries filled the air; it was sound of the Harbinger’s men being massacred.

            “What do I do?” asked the Harbinger while looking at Marcus. “There’s nothing we can do for them now, captain. We will die just the same,” said Marcus.

            “I agree with that,” said George. I’ve seen these orbs before and firsthand I’ve seen what they can do.”

            “What the fuck are they?” asked the Harbinger. “Marcus, are these the orbs you were talking about? Are these like the ones that attacked you and entered your body?”

            Marcus was so laced with fear that he couldn’t even speak. All he could was watch in horror as the violence continued off in the nearby woods. Finally he answered his captain’s question. “Yes, these are the same exact lights that attacked me, captain,” he said.

            “How did you survive the ordeal with them?” the Harbinger asked.

            “I told you. I was possessed by one and led my men into battle. You know the rest of story, captain. There was that woman who grabbed a hold of me and an unseen force knocked me and our surrounding men down to the ground. I blacked out for a brief moment and when I came to, I was back to my normal self again,” Marcus explained.

            George spoke out, “Yes, that woman is Cynthia. She is the one you are looking for. There is a dark, ancient magic in that one I tell you. It’s best that you stay far away from her,” he said. George tried to convince Marcus and the Harbinger to give up looking for her, but he couldn’t persuade them.

            “You kidding, if we had her right now, then she would be able to stop and destroy this madness with a snap of her fingers,” the Harbinger yelled. “No, we must find her, and soon.”

            George feared for Lucky and Cynthia, but he knew that Tank was guarding them and keeping them safe. Hell, he knew that Tank would die for them both most likely, just because Mongoose ordered him to protect them, so George tried to worry about himself at the moment. He knew he needed to somehow survive this moment in order to remain living. George definitely wished that Cynthia was around right about now, so that she could possibly help them from these lights. George feared Cynthia and the power she possessed, but he was in dire need and could use a miracle.

            The gunfire began to lessen and before too much longer it had ceased altogether. Marcus noticed that only a few of their men remained alive, but they walked around as if no intelligent life controlled their movements. There were only about a dozen or so walking in circles and zigzagging amongst the fires along the river shoreline.

            “Are they possessed?” the Harbinger asked Marcus.

            He shook his head, “Yes, it looks like they are. They look like walking corpses,” said Marcus, but even as he said that, he knew that they were deadly. Each one wielded a gun or a weapon of sometime kind of their hands. They each wanted to inflict pain or death upon any human life they encountered.

            Marcus, George, the Harbinger, and a few their men still remained in the river. The cold water was beginning to take its toll on Marcus. If time would have gone on like that, then he would have surely died from hypothermia, but luckily enough the possessed men wandered off into different directions. The river shoreline was now safe, and so each man exited the water.

            They stood on the sandy riverbank and debated whether or not to go near the woods. The Harbinger was hopeful for survivors, but Marcus and George were not. They decided to follow him and a few of his other men to the edge of the woods. A few took torches to light their way. Once they reached the woods, all any of them could do was stare at the site they saw. Hundreds of dead bodies were lying about. Many were shot or disemboweled, but all were lifeless. Blood soaked the ground and even some could be heard dripping off of nearby leaves. It was an absolute massacre and they each felt defeated.

            “How is this possible?” the Harbinger asked in disbelief. “This was supposed to be an evening of celebration not defeat. My forces are completely obliterated, Marcus. What do we do now?”

            Even has his captain asked him that question, Marcus remained quiet. All he could do was look at the gore before him. His eyes were seeing it, but his mind was struggling to understand it. What’s happening to the world? He thought to himself. He then looked over at his captain and anger began to rise within him. This is his fault. He led us into this battle and wanted the Valley for himself. We have finally met our match. Our days of taking over and plundering are over. Marcus thought. As much as Marcus wanted to kill his captain right about now, he knew he couldn’t. Marcus and George would need him more now than ever. Each man was crucial for their survival for their existence in the cruel and hostile world that they lived in.

Exciting times ahead

As many of you know, I'll be attending festivals this summer. Both of them are local which is great because it'll allow myself to get my name out there as a local author. I hope it'll build more networking and a local fan base as well. These past few weeks I've been working feverishly hard, looking up ideas for author tables for book signings, like how to lay out my table and what to do and what not to do kind of facts. It's all new to me though, so I'm a little nervous, but yet excited too. Also, I have ordered a big shipment of my books to sell as well. I hope you all wish me luck in my endeavors this summer and I'll make sure to keep everyone updated on how they all go and of course on how my writing is going as well. I hope to post more to my blog soon. Cheers!

Long time no see.

I am sharing a rough draft piece from my Abolition Series Book Three that I am currently writing. A little heads up, it's graphic but that's how I write, but once again it's only my rough draft. Heck, by the end when it's all said and done this part may even be removed entirely from my novel. But please read and let me know what you guys think. I think I'm going to start sharing some of my work with you guys. Cheers.


The man spoke again, “You know, Lucky, you really are a beautiful woman, there is just something about you and I’m sure it drives all the men wild. Growing up and before everything went to shit, I bet you could’ve had any man you wanted, am I right?” he asked.
Lucky didn’t like to where this conversation was heading. She just smiled and decided to play along with this man’s mind. “You’re absolutely right about that, before the abolition happened I was able to have my fair share of men and even a few women,” Lucky told him.
There was a gleam in his eyes as Lucky said those words to him. “Oh really, even some women?” he asked her. He continued on, “Too bad I wasn’t there to witness that,” he told her. The man continued to stare at Lucky with interest. He even licked his lips a couple of times and wink at her. An instant shot of illness consumed Lucky at thought of this man having his way with her.
Slowly the man inched towards Lucky. “So when was the last time you were with a man?
Lucky just smiled and played along with his mind games. “You would be surprised,” Lucky told him. “With the ending of the world, most men are desperate than ever to find a woman, and lay with them in bed,” she said.
“Well I know for me it’s been a while and I find your beauty so striking. I bet your body under those clothes is absolutely stunning in every possible way,” he told her while he continued to inch closer and closer towards Lucky’s face. “You know, my men are sound asleep, as are your friends. We could both make this terrible day have a happy ending,” he said.
Lucky needed to play along, but her body and mind was too exhausted and numb. She needed to act and think quickly before it was too late. The man continued to move closer and Lucky allowed him to place his lips upon hers. She kissed him and then threw herself upon him. The man laid there with the excitement of Lucky on top of him.
“I like a woman who takes charge. I knew you were the type,” he explained as he placed his hands under Lucky’s shirt. Slowly she began to grind on him and kept embracing the moment. She looked around and noticed everyone was sound asleep, including Tank and Cynthia. The man then pulled off her shirt and exposed her naked body. He then buried his face between her breasts.
Lucky looked around the floor of the old building and within a few inches of her body was a large brick. Slowly she grabbed a hold of it and pushed the man back down to the floor, and as she did, Lucky brought the brick down upon his face. Instant horror and disbelief overcame him as she brought the brick down on his face again and again. The man made no sound though. The only sound that could be heard was the storm raging outside mixed with the sound of the man’s skull splitting in half.
Lucky didn’t care though, she kept smashing and smashing until there was nothing recognizable left that resembled a face. Blood covered her naked upper body and even some hit her face, but once again Lucky didn’t care. She tossed the brick aside and curled up next to the man’s dead body and closed her eyes. She knew that the morning would bring only pain and maybe even death for her, Tank, and Cynthia, but she would deal with it in the morning. So Lucky placed a smile on her face, closed her eyes, and slept peacefully as if she didn’t have a care or a worry in her world.

Lilly is finally completed!

After years and years of writing Lilly, it is now finished and available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. I'm so excited for my debut in the thriller/horror genre and this book was so much fun to write that I can't wait to write more books like it, or maybe even make Lilly a series, which could be possible. So please check it out and tell me what you think. It is definitely my favorite book that I have written thus far. Talk to you soon about more projects I'm working on such as Abolition Book Three, which is coming along quite nicely. Cheers.