Halloween Week: Book Spotlight for Hub City Survival

Welcome to Day Six of my Halloween Week!

Today I'm spotlighting another book. This time we go zombie with Hub City Survival by K. M. Cooper. And I also have an Instafreebie Halloween Horror Group Giveaway at the end of the post, so enjoy.

Hub City Survival by K. M. Cooper

"Writing in journals isn't really my thing. I find it sort of juvenile. But I need to talk about what happened yesterday and none of my friends want to talk about it."

These are the first writings of Tracey's journal. One day, while shopping, she witnesses a traumatising event that haunts her for days. Then, all hell breaks loose. With the help of her friends, Tracey must escape her own hometown, Moncton, which has been overthrown by a mysterious illness that makes the dead walk. While escaping, she has vows to chronicle the events in her journal.

Hub City Survival is available in paperback here:

Amazon

Goodreads

Lulu.com

Author Bio: 

K. M. Cooper is a creative director and self-professed Jacqueline-of-all-trades who specializes in fiction writing and world building. Her first book, Hub City Survival, is a zombie horror novella based in her hometown of Moncton, NB. She currently resides there with her husband--actor Brad Butland--daughter Amelia, and two very distracting cats.

For more on the author, check out her Facebook Page

And now for the giveaway...

Over 30 Free Books and Stories in this horror giveaway!

Check it all out here!

Halloween Horror Giveaway!

And be sure to return tomorrow for a look at the book A Persistence of Geraniums and Other Worrying Tales by John Linwood Grant.

Book Spotlight: Conquest (The SciFan™ Universe Series Book 1)

Today I bring a delightful treat with a spotlight for the SciFan novel, Conquest (The SciFan™ Universe Series Book 1) by Aleric Elos. I have a look at the book and an excerpt, so enjoy!

 Conquest (The SciFan™ Universe Series Book 1)

by Aleric Elos

A primeval darkness threatens to destroy mankind...

The world's largest gaming platform in the entire industry is led by a man with many secrets. The popular game DarkForce features the World of Zion which has been plagued by the destructive will of the Leviathan for centuries. What gamers don't know is that the World of Zion actually exists, and the Leviathan has fed off of the souls of men and his fodder has become scarce. He now turns to Earth with an insatiable hunger. Only a woman from Earth who levels up to discover a divine inner power can challenge Earth's Apocalyptic Fate.

You can find Conquest on Amazon

Prologue

Shadows of Darkness

The voices in his mind were barely a whisper now, but they were always present. It had taken him hundreds of years to subdue them, and he feared that his true intentions would soon be discovered. Though Timur Demyan had long ago yielded up his soul unto the Leviathan, he still followed his own agenda while he fulfilled the will of his Master.

Timur hid in the shadows of the park, slipping through the darkness from one shadow to the next. His prey walked quickly with eyes darting to each side like a bird weary of predators. A frantic look of desperation was plastered over the other man’s unshaven face as he flipped open an antiquated cell phone.

“Come on…” he heard Jason Bridger murmur to the phone as he approached the fountain, “Answer already!”

“Allan, this is Jason. I know we haven’t spoken in a long time, but I need your help. I’ve stumbled across some disturbing information that involves one of your firm’s clients. I need to speak with you in private immediately. As soon as you get this, meet me on the east side of Buckingham Fountain. There’s little time.”

The instant Jason ended the call, Timur stepped out of the shadows, “Indeed, you have very little time.”

Jason spun around with his concealed pistol cocked and ready, “Back off, old man!”

“Ah,” Timur limped forward with his cane in his crippled right hand while he brandished a handgun with his left, “Not until you return what belongs to me.”

“I’m not letting you get away with this.” Jason shook his head adamantly.

“This scene is all too familiar.” Timur chuckled as he cocked his handgun and aimed, “This is exactly how your colleague died.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Jason pulled the trigger. Timur fell backwards with the sudden impact that hit him in the face. Seconds later a strange greenish glow surrounded his body, and then he disappeared. Jason’s eyes grew wide, and then a bullet ripped through his abdomen. And then another through his chest. Clutching the wounds, he absently dropped his pistol as he fell to his knees.

Timur reappeared from another shadow and the strange glow around his body began to dissipate. He approached with a silencer affixed to the tip of his handgun and picked up the old thumb drive that had fallen out of Jason’s hand.

“As I said earlier, you indeed have very little time.” Timur sneered as he placed the tip of his handgun against Jason’s forehead, “And I might add, your friend Allan has very little time as well.”

Author Bio:

Aleric Elos is the Award-Winning Author of The SciFan™ Universe series. He likes to play MMORPGs, and since he doesn't have the software engineering experience to develop his own games he decided to express his creativity in written form. 

You can find him on: 

Facebook   Twitter

Drabble Wednesday: Unexpected Apocalypse

It’s the end of the world again on Drabble Wednesday...

Snowmageddon

Apparently it snowed when I wasn't looking.

Everywhere.

Literally everywhere in the  world.

The entire planet’s covered in a blanket of white, and temperatures have dropped below freezing. It happened here overnight. The sun set on a beautiful summer day and the next morning I opened the curtains to winter. Other places saw it coming. The news is full of speculation and people are freaking.

Me, I dug my parka and snow boots out of the closet, and checked the generator. The storm cellar’s full of provisions and I’m all set.

Guess being a survivalist ain’t so crazy after all.

~*~

Split Second

One small second.

Infinitesimal.

Until it is slowed, broken down into eternity.

Then it lasts a lifetime. A thousand lifetimes.

Spun out like cotton candy unraveled.

I am glad of that.

This moment should last, as long as possible.

It is a fleeting monument to hubris, guilt and regrets. It is my duty to value this transitory instant, to hold it, walk through it, study it, as the universe unspools.

The consequence is mine. I knew the risks when I threw the switch.

I knew the world, the universe could burn, that time itself could cease.

And now it has.

~*~

Wave Goodbye

We never listened.

We had warnings. We had so many warnings. But we ignored all of them. Took everything for granted. Thought we were so superior.

But we’re not.

We never were.

Now we pay for our arrogance.

Now we wait.

The end will come differently, depending where you lived on this earth. Some areas are in drought, some experienced earthquakes, volcanic activity hit other places.

Me, I’m waiting to drown. The already high water levels are about to experience a super tsunami. No way to outrun it in time.

So I wait to die.

No one gets out alive.

© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved

Drabble Wednesday: Terrible Beauty

Today, on Drabble Wednesday, I’m revisiting the darkness inside the spectacular and the beautiful…

Bring the Storm

Far above our tiny village the barrage of thunder boomed, and the dark mauve sky flared with sporadic bursts of lightning. The air snapped crisp and burnt, and shook with the ferocity of the storm.

Most villagers huddled in their homes, praying for the swift end to the squall. Some brave souls, however, gazed to the sky, seeking a figure riding the fire and roar. The maker of the tempest, in all his screaming agony. Our God, whose body both created and endured the lightning. We prayed for him, God of Storms, and his torment, his sacrifice for his people.

~*~

Rift

I never realized annihilation would be beautiful.

It’s golden and sapphire, shining and shadows, a mosaic pattern of fissures, a jagged pulsing web across the glassy sky. And its growing. Amber tendrils twisting, cerulean coils sprouting. Bigger, larger, wider, patterns into patterns, into fractals, mandalas, always growing, glowing into more exquisite forms.

The forming of the rift held me hypnotised, spellbound in awe. It was the most dazzling phenomenon I had ever witnessed. I would have stayed there forever basking in its wonder, in its beauty.

Such a shame it would eventually tear apart the world, and then the universe.

~*~

Wings

Dusk emerged from a bronze and copper sunset, and etched its ebony on the contours of the muted forest. Something shifted within the surrounding trees and flanking shadows. It emerged and settled on the nearby, deserted road. A small thing, compared to the forest or the sky, but large enough to cast a presence.

It twitched its sable hide—shoulders, limbs, back—flexing muscles and sinew. Bone and cartilage extended, left, then right, and great stygian wings unfolded, flailing, flapping, breaking the quiet with their noise. To the air the creature rose, majestic, noble, sovereign of the night.

The Gargoyle.

© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved 

Drabble Wednesday: Storms

Today on Drabble Wednesday look to the horizon, there are storms coming…

Ruins

Only the tower remains to greet the lightning.

Charred, broken, but still standing. A lingering monument to a decimated civilization.

A monument to the storms.

It was not always so, the skies did not always seethe with the bite of electricity. Once they shone with a soft warm sun, coloured a pale blue and white. Not the bleeding amethyst and white anger now reflected in the clouds.

Why and how the storms came is lost to time. Stories passed on from survivors told of different reasons, perhaps none, perhaps all, the truth.

Now only the tower remains. Only the storms.

~*~

Inescapable

I stare at the burning sky.

Waiting.

I am alone, surrounded by millions of people. We are all alone as we wait for death. Wait for our planet to die.

I wonder how long it will take?

Will the atmosphere consume itself, leaving inhabitants to slowly asphyxiate from lack of breathable air? Or will it rain poison down upon us? Will we burn as well? Will it hurt? Or will we close our eyes and gently fall into the arms of death?

All these thoughts rush through my mind.

I stare at the burning sky and wait for the inevitable.

~*~

Summer Storm

“The sunset sure makes those storms clouds look pretty. All shadows and pink, with a little glow underneath. Funny how that is. That something fixing to be ornery can be so pretty when it starts.” I smile at Jeb. “Sort of how our marriage commenced. It was agreeable in the beginning. All pretty like those clouds. Sorry how things turned out.”

Jeb didn’t answer. ‘Cept for his moaning. I don’t blame him none. On account of my shooting him and all. Yep, having a hole in your gut kills the conversating. ‘Tis annoying, though, his lingering. Hope he dies soon.

© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved

Drabble Wednesday: Macabre Musings

Today, on this Canada Day edition of Drabble Wednesday, I bring you some ghosts, some trains, and a tiny touch of the apocalypse…

Endings

I sit on the damp park bench, careful not to slip on the wet pavement. It’s a foggy morning full of drizzle, not any different from yesterday or the day before. The days seem to blend now, with rain and faded colours.

Still, the park is beautiful. It’s quiet, no one is here yet. The fog diffuses the morning light, giving the trees a soft, velvet look. Almost a sepia tone, like pictures my grandmother showed me.

It won’t stay this way. The scavengers, the abandoned survivors of the plague will come soon. Nevertheless…

It’s a nice place to die.

The Bridge

Why am I here?

I am standing on a bridge?

In the fog?

I am so cold…

Why am I here?

I am still on the bridge?

It is so cold.

I thought it was summer.

Why am I here?

Why is it so foggy?

Why is my dress sodden?

It is cold... so cold.

Why am I here?

I am cold… so cold… so wet…

I cannot see in this fog… wait, I believe… there are people?

Help me… oh, please, help me…

And folks, this turn of the century bridge is the next stop on our ghost tour…

Old Photos

Look at the photo.

Can you hear the train?

There’s no train in the photo you say.

I know. But it’s there, a ghost at my shoulder. I can hear it.

I can hear its forlorn whistle, the clackety clack of its wheels against the tracks, sense its rumble under my feet. I even smell its belching smoke.

I see that smile. The ramblings of an old man. I’m not crazy. The train is real. It’s haunting me.

It’s John’s old train you see. He’s never forgiven me, and now he’s coming back. Each day the train gets closer, closer…

~*~

And for an extra Canada Day treat, here’s the link to my free flash fiction short, Even the Paranormal Play Sports: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/113780

Even the Paranormal Play Sports

Things have taken a turn for the paranormal in a small corner of Canada. Set against the backdrop of a hockey game, teenager Deidre Dawson tells her strange story to a reporter.

Happy Canada Day!

Drabble Wednesday: The End of Worlds

On today’s Drabble Wednesday we journey to worlds of fantasy for some divine retaliation…

Midnight

His skeletal hand touched my shoulder, his tattered cloak cast its shadow around me. My hands trembled, and the sand in the hourglass I held tilted slightly. He had arrived, my sweet harbinger, my Death.

“It’s time, then?”

“Yes.” I could hear the hint of mirth in his voice.

I smiled, and tossed the hourglass.

It tumbled in freefall, the sunset rays glinting off its surface, until it smashed against the earth. A crack appeared beneath the remains, and another, as a world began to die.

We waited patiently, then Time and Death walked hand in hand through the ruins.

Retribution

“Blood on the snow.”

The words, from an ancient poem, came unbidden as Ryn stared at the crimson stain seeping into frozen ground. She sliced Akai's throat easily, with one practised stroke, and ended his friend’s life without hesitation. Ryn wiped away his forming tears.

“Am I the next to die?”

The dark creature in leather armour and swords smiled. “Have you also angered the gods?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Then your life is not forfeit to my blade.”

Ryn bowed his head as thick, inky smoke engulfed her, taking Nbea, Bringer of Death and Vengeance, back to her realm.

Punishment

An auburn radiance melded into the dark storm clouds, a blend from the fiery hues of the sunset, and the reflection of the flames consuming parts of the city. The gods had judged Irytajin and deemed it imperfect.

Seri and her child, dressed in elegant, rain-soaked robes, stood atop a neglected dais, as the waters lapped ever higher on the steps. They attempted escape, until the seas slammed their boat into this temporary refuge.

Seri let go of her son’s hand, and opened her parasol. She hummed as the waters swept her boy away, and calmly waited for her turn.




Just a note: Drabble Wednesday will be preempted next week to bring you a stop on the blog tour of the new fantasy anthology, The Toll of Another Bell.  Be sure to check back for a peek at the book, and my review.

Book Spotlight: The Silent Years: Mother

I bring apocalyptic events today with a book spotlight on the science fiction novel The Silent Years: Mother by Jennifer R. Povey, the first in a series. So check it out, read the included excerpt, and enjoy.

The Silent Years: Mother by Jennifer R. Povey

Dorothy Mayling thought her worst problem was the long-standing family feud over her sister's choice of husband. Or her son's grades. Then the rumors started - bird flu in Seattle, SARS in Washington State? The truth is a hideous, terrible disease, one that slowly steals away the ability to speak and reason, turning people into nothing more than zombies. Worst of all, it was meant to be a weapon. Can Dorothy hold her family together as the world ends around them and people fall, one by one, to the silent plague?

The Silent Years: Mother is available at:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Smashwords 

Excerpt:

Winter was settling in. They had enough hay stockpiled for the livestock. But for next year? They would have to grow their own. Jason and the other men were bent over a sketched map of the land, working out what to do about the hay.
Dorothy decided to leave them to it. She would only be a cook too many. Three days ago, the grid had finally failed, contributing to her empty feeling. There had been more and more brownouts and then the power was gone. She took it as a sign: things would not go back to normal.

Their preparations had kept them alive so far. And their luck was holding out. They seemed to be immune, or just out of the pattern of infection.

She stepped out onto the porch. The air was still and  quiet. It was just like one of those apocalypse movies where the survivors were shown at the end staring into space. Except, this was not the end. Or maybe it was; the last page of the story had happened, and all that remained were a few surviving characters. The author was no longer writing, the characters left in that moment, not moving forward...

Thud.

The sound interrupted her thoughts, tore at them.  What was that? There was a gun just inside the door. She grabbed it. There was another thud.
Finally, she realized what it was. What they were. Three Silents, and they were knocking down the well-kept garden fence, tugging at the rails. The thuds had been part of the top rail hitting the ground.

Now they realized they could step over the lower rail. She found herself unable to shoot. They came closer.

She pulled the trigger. The shot would be a signal, a warning. She felt the stock slam into her shoulder, just as if she was shooting a deer, not a human being. Or something that had once been a human being. But there was no choice. The house door opened, Jason emerging with a second weapon. "Tore many." He was tripping over words again.

She fired a second time. This time the shot hit, striking the Silent in the midsection. She saw the woman double up, going down with a wordless scream of pain. Too human. They were still human.

Jason shot once, twice, taking the other two down, but there was an odd look on Jason’s face. "Red."

"No..." she whispered. She turned towards him, leveling her gun at his chest. But she could not do it, the barrel lowered.

He looked at her. "Bleach tower red."

"Jason..." Had he realized? Perhaps, for he dropped the gun and abruptly ran past the bodies of the dead victims and into the night.

Dorothy could do nothing but let him go. It was over. They were all infected for sure, perhaps had been for a while. Most likely the incubation period was longer than they had thought.

"What happened?" A male voice from behind her, but in that moment she could not focus on who it was.

"Jason's gone." She should have killed him. She knew she should have, but she had not been able to.

"What do you mean, gone?"

Now she remembered the owner of the voice. Leroy. There was nobody else it could have been, but...

"Infected. He ran off." She leaned the gun against the wall, glanced at the bodies. It did not matter. They were either immune or doomed. Taking the bodies away was still necessary, but it did not carry with it the fear of contamination. Touching them could not make things worse. Nothing could make things better.

"Hell. What if he comes back?"

"I can't do it," she whispered.

"Then I will."

It was an odd relief to feel that responsibility taken away from her. "Assuming it isn't you next."

"More likely to be Janine," he said softly.

 She did not want to think about that, but it was more likely her, closer to Jason physically. And Janine, so fragile... "I think at this point we have to assume we're all well and truly exposed. Immunity is our only chance."

"We have that chance. No point giving up just yet."

"Or a cure, if they come up with one." Maybe that was it. Maybe she could not give up on Jason.

"Distribution would be a problem, but..."

"Write another virus. Spread it the same way." Dorothy sighed. "Or maybe that's too dangerous. I don't know."

"We'll rebuild no matter what, but...dammit. I thought this would burn itself out and everything would be fixed by Christmas." Leroy glanced at the dead. "I guess I was naive."

"No. There's nothing wrong with having your glass half full."

"Depends on whether it's wine or vinegar."

"Hope is a good thing, Leroy. It's the only thing we have."

"Not the only thing. We have courage."

She had lacked the courage to pull the trigger. Was that strength, or weakness? She did not know.

Author Bio:

Jennifer R. Povey is in her early forties, and lives in Northern Virginia with her husband. She writes a variety of speculative fiction, whilst following current affairs and occasionally indulging in horse riding and role playing games. She has sold fiction to a number of markets including Analog, and written RPG supplements, some of which are available from Occult Moon Publishing. Her first novel, Transpecial, was published by Musa Publishing in April, 2013. Her most recent release is the apocalyptic science fiction novella "Mother," first of The Silent Years series.

For more on the author check out these sites:

Website: http://www.jenniferrpovey.com/
Smashwords Profile: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jenniferrpovey
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/jenniferrpovey

Book Spotlight: THE GHOUL ARCHIPELAGO

Today we join the ranks of the ravenous undead as I feature the novel, The Ghoul Archipelago: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller by Stephen Kozeniewski, in a book spotlight.

The Ghoul Archipelago: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller

by Stephen Kozeniewski 

After ravenous corpses topple society and consume most of the world’s population, freighter captain Henk Martigan is shocked to receive a distress call. Eighty survivors beg him to whisk them away to the relative safety of the South Pacific. Martigan wants to help, but to rescue anyone he must first pass through the nightmare backwater of the Curien island chain.

A power struggle is brewing in the Curiens. On one side, the billionaire inventor of the mind-control collar seeks to squeeze all the profit he can out of the apocalypse. Opposing him is the charismatic leader of a ghoul-worshipping cargo cult. When a lunatic warlord berths an aircraft carrier off the coast and stakes his own claim on the islands, the stage is set for a bloody showdown.

To save the remnants of humanity (and himself), Captain Martigan must defeat all three of his ruthless new foes and brave the gruesome horrors of...THE GHOUL ARCHIPELAGO.

The Ghoul Archipelago is available at Amazon

Author's Bio

Stephen Kozeniewski (pronounced "causin' ooze key") lives with his wife and two cats in Pennsylvania, the birthplace of the modern zombie. During his time as a Field Artillery officer, he served for three years in Oklahoma and one in Iraq, where due to what he assumes was a clerical error, he was awarded the Bronze Star. He is also a classically trained linguist, which sounds much more impressive than saying his bachelor's degree is in German.

Amazon Author Profile

Spotlight on Shadow of the Last Men by J. M. Salyards

Today, dear readers, I bring you the dark dystopian future courtesy of J. M. Salyards and his book, Shadow of the Last Men. Xchyler Publishing is relaunching this excellent book with a new cover, and all the deserving pomp and fanfare. So take a look at the book, read the mini-interview with the author, enjoy the excerpt, enter the contest, and check out the fabulous book trailer...

Mini-Interview with J. M. Salyards

1- Welcome Jason, why don’t we start with an introduction.

Thank you for having me. I write as J.M. Salyards, and my current series, The Next Man Saga, is published by Xchyler Publishing. I live in Maryland with my wife and daughter. We're a very literary family of readers and writers. The unique and fascinating thing about authors is that the good ones write from their hearts and do so with passion. The best way to get to know me is by knowing my work. 

2- Your book, Shadow of the Last Men, depicts an apocalyptic and dystopian future. That particular fantasy/sci-fi sub-genre is a favourite of mine, what attracted you to write your series in this setting?

In some ways, we live in a dystopian present. That made Shadow of the Last Men somewhat easier to extrapolate. The work ended up as this hybrid creature of so many different genres out of necessity, rather than any desire on my part. There is wild fusion of high technology and old-fashioned human willpower and grit that has always attracted me about an apocalyptic setting, and the availability of so many moral and philosophical contrasts made a dystopian framework a natural fit for the kind of story I wanted to tell. With traditional fantasy there are handcuffs, and an author might be stifled a bit by the hidebound ways of approaching magic or characterization, racial issues, or class conflicts. I wanted a different kind of magic for Shadow of the Last Men, and as Arthur C. Clarke put it: "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." I considered that my license to write the story. He also wrote that "... one cannot have superior science and inferior morals. The combination is unstable and self-destroying." That cuts to the heart of the book. 

3- Do you have a favourite character from the book, and if so why?

There are four main characters in my first novel, and it's difficult to pick a favorite. They're all so different from one another, with animating, informing archetypes that often come into opposition. I don't like to play favorites. When I read a novel, I want my favorite character to be the one I'm reading about at that moment, because it means that the author has managed to inject the right amount of humanity and sufficient conflict into each mind present in the story. That said, Harrow, Quintain and Alouine all have traits I admire and, in some cases, wish that I had. The same can't be said for their antagonist, Carver Delano. Readers and reviewers have universally come to revile that character, so I consider him a smashing success in his own right.

4- What was the hardest scene in the book to write? And the easiest?

Action scenes are fun to write, and when one writes for fun, it's easy. What ends up being difficult is describing horrible things as they happen to good or innocent people. It was necessary, I think, because in a good vs. evil story, the reader can't know just how desperate the battle is unless there is a taste of darkness. There's genuine good, and genuine evil, in the story. On occasion, the line blurs. While Harrow can be considered a good man, he's better at merely being a man. He's good, but very rarely is he nice. To the contrary, Carver is never nice and doesn't care to be. Scenes of cowardice or bullying are hard to write and especially when a character is smashing or degrading something pure out of spite.

5- As Shadow of the Last Men is the first in a series, can you share any teasing tidbits about upcoming books?

What Shadow of the Last Men began, I hope to continue in Volume 2 of the Next Man Saga, Black Sunrise. We'll see some of the focus shift to some characters that there was no room for in the spotlight of the first novel, while ratcheting up the intensity. With the majority of the world-building complete, I can concentrate even more on a brisk and exciting pace. Story wise, it may remind some of an Empire Strikes Back feel. I'll endeavor to keep the stakes high and everything is in place to have a showdown type of climax. Look for Black Sunrise in the first half of 2015.

And if you enjoyed this interview be certain to check out 

J. M. Salyards' live author event!

Here's the contest:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Follow Salyards on the web at:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Google + | Amazon | Goodreads 

An Intense Literary Apocalyptic Novel: A Review of Since Tomorrow

My Book Review of Since Tomorrow by Morgan Nyberg:

Since Tomorrow by Morgan Nyberg is an unsettling novel, in the way only a powerful, well-crafted book can be, using its words to twist into your mind and make you think. It’s the type of book that resonates right into the back of your mind and curls around your soul.

The book is set in a post-apocalyptic future, where excess and dissipation have finally caught up with the world and where society has self-destructed. The novel unfolds within the city of Vancouver, Canada, where a small population survives, eking out a meagre existence by farming and scavenging.
This is a magnificent book that lays out an exquisitely formed vision of a broken world that has lost the trappings of civilisation as we know it, but none of its emotional underpinning. In this new society we still find people trying to form communities, people trying to take advantage, some who have given up, and some who want to make it better. No punches are pulled here in the pages; characters die, both victories and tragedies happen and life goes on despite everything. The author gives you characters you can love and hate, all living in an amazingly realistic future world.

In so many ways this book just works effortlessly, giving the reader different levels of enjoyment or reflection in its words. I highly recommend this book; it is worth your time to read it.
 
 
Since Tomorrow is available at:
Amazon