SORI Samples

Greetings, Beloveds. How long have I been speaking of my upcoming solo anthology? For far too long, to be sure. However, I am highly pleased to announce that the official release is less than 2 months away.

cool-text-syncopation-219617772239910cool-text-of-219617890536010cool-text-ravishing-intensity-219617820840820Is soon to be on its way to you, my dear readers and followers.

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People often ask me what sets my writing apart from other contemporary LGBTQIA authors. That is a complex question to answer. You see, it is not just one thing, it is many. First and foremost, I do not consider myself contemporary.

To me, “contemporary literature” implies tending, mainstream, like most; those are three things that my writing and stories are not. Not that there is anything wrong with contemporary works. As a matter of fact, I enjoy many contemporary authors. However, if I were to classify my writing, I would call it antiquated and whimsical. I realize that my writing style is as unusual as I am, and with that, I am perfectly content.

I once asked a fan what was her analysis of my writing, and her words were humbling and honoring. She said, “There is something about the way you write about sex. You don’t write about sex as if it were just sex, but rather it comes across art.”

If I were to be completely candid, THAT is exactly how I see it. To me, sex is an experience, not an action. Every experience should be surreal and otherworldly, it should stay with you forever. Experiences should be something far from mundane or redundant. So should sex be. Intercourse is a merging of hearts and souls, what is more magical and unearthly than that? Not many things. However, when sex is defined as a carnal act, all of the magic is expunged and so is all of the beauty.

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Why, you must be wondering? Why must sex be so appealing if it is simply an act that should appease our carnal need? Well, while that might be true for some, to me, sex and love go hand in hand. What is not beautiful about love? Love transcends the vulgarity of corporal wantonness. Love is an ethereal, tactile sensation that run deep and is paramount to everything and anything.

The fact of the matter is that love is love. Love eclipses gender, age, ethnicity, and boundaries of any kind. And if sex is love enacted, then it should be just as influential.

With that said, allow me to share tidbits of the “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” with you.

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Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” is divided into seasons, with winter being the first in line. Also, I decided to use a variety of writing styles; first person, third person, past tense, as well as present. One thing they all have in common is the sensual intense element. Here are some excerpt from each season.

Winter

Excerpt of “Prismatic Slumber”

I dream in color. Like a vivid, luminescent prism, everything comes to thriving life, and then there he is with me.

Sleigh bells dangling from the edge of the bed jingle whenever I slide deep inside of his scrumptious cleft.

Silver tinsel, tangled around our feet.

How did it get there? When did we play with it? It doesn’t matter.

Only partially covered by a Santa Claus fleece blanket, our skin touches underneath—intense heat emanating from it. In the background Bobby Helms “Jingle Bell Rock” plays, only loud enough to drown our elate moaning.

Yet, I want more. I pine for more than just his body and skin, I thirst for the intimacy of his presence; for the puissance of his soul. More than that, I endeavor to monopolize it. Make him, in every sense of the word, mine and mine alone—for the keeping.

Droplets of perspiration trickle down my chest as I drift my manhood in and out of his dewy cavity, then land on his backside and slowly stream onto the blanket.

Even in my state of deep dormancy I can smell the mustiness of our combined scents and it entices every fragment of my being at a cellular level. Every hair on my body stands on end.

Perhaps, it’s the ferociousness of our intimate encounter, perhaps the fact that I’d been longing for this moment for quite some time. Either way, he is mine now, and I am relishing in the satisfaction that only he can bring—my night time companion.

Why is he only with me in my dreams? When did he start visiting me here? Where did he come from?

All inconsequential questions. They had no place here in my Holiday Repose.

Spring

Excerpt of “Metamorphosis”

Metamorphosis, definition:

The process of transformation from an immature form to an adult form in two or more distinct stages. A change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.

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I am a butterfly.

The beauty of life is found in the mundane matters of evolution. Therefore, I am a butterfly.

When I was an egg, the shell kept me from breaking free. It prohibited me from being whom I was meant to be. Yet, there was a miraculous event occurring; I was developing. Readying for the inevitable exodus which was about to transpire.

I suppose the world was not ready for me then. Perhaps, preparing for the spectacular event which was about to unfold.

I was being born. Born anew. Born from freedom, from evolution, from self.

My development came in stages—each one in the form of a man—every one more powerful than the last. Making me stronger, until it eventually transmuted me into the man I am today.

A Pieridae. Mystical, magical and powerful.

Summer

Excerpt of “Tyronian Rapture”

Summer 1841

Victorian England

Cherry Blossom petals from a tree procured in Japan carried adrift with the breeze, the smell of humidity and grass rode past, wafting across beautiful Regina’s face and all I could do was sit and stare. She was lovely in every sense of the limited word, for her resplendence was akin to a celestial being. An angel, to be sure; like none I had ever laid eyes upon. She took my breath away, and I was content to let her.

Her large eyes, chocolatey. Her skin, like the finest grade of caramel. Her unwieldy, black curls pulled to the back of her head in a bun. And the conundrum lie in my desire to see them lose and entangled in my hands. A coveting more trenchant than my knowledge that it was ungodly. I was captured by my dear Regina’s beauty. Her full lips longed to be licked, while I imagined that her smooth skin and voluptuous curves yearned to be caressed.

From a distance I basked in her allurement, secretly—watching as she picked the wild flowers from the field in order to prepare a centerpiece for our dinner table for tea. If I could walk through the window ajar as a phantom, then as a phantom I would delight in her existence.

The impasse, my predilection. The penchant to fancy the reprobate. And, whilst my heart and mind remained enthralled by my point of desire, my body lay captive inside of this wretched place.

“Meredith,” Mother called, startling me from my hypnosis—Regina. Such was the effect she had on me. In my dreams I touched every inch of her exquisite dark sheath, then kissed every fraction, ensuring to not miss a spot.

Autumn

Excerpt of “He and She”

She looked at herself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the person she saw. A stranger in the absolute. A woman who loved the hustle and bustle of the nightlife but was full of regrets in the morning. A woman who longed for the attentions of an outsider to fill the voids of desolation that she’d come to know as her closest ally.

Yet, it was more than that. Her reflection was a stranger, always had been. Looking at her mirror image, Yehanna considered that she’d been born with the wrong face. Perhaps the Fates had misrepresented what she was really supposed to look like—gotten it wrong somehow. She was a foreigner to herself, usurped the body of another, or at least that’s what Yehanna told herself on a daily basis.

Grazing her finger across one check in the dimly lit bathroom of a tattered old apartment, which was falling apart at the seams, Yehanna moved her face from left to right, then back again.

As a teenager she’d be diagnosed with Depersonalization Disorder, DPD for short. However, what the psychiatrist failed to realize was that Yehanna wasn’t depersonalized—as she knew who she was—she was just living inside of a supplement. A loaned body, that was not her own. One, that she often did not identify with, plain and simple.

Perhaps her true body had been left behind in some previous incarnation of herself, and this one was provisional. Either way, it didn’t matter. Yehanna had grown tired of the monotonous nature of her ever questionable existence, and the night was the only thing that offered her solace.

With the tip of her finger Yehanna brushed her nose from bridge to point, then across her top lip as if to check and make sure that her features were her own.

From her bedroom emitted the voice of a man whom was just now waking up and preferably sobering from Yehanna’s late night feat. “Yo! Umm, umm …” he stammered.

“Yehanna.”

“Yeah, Yehanna,” he cut in as if he’d known her name all along, but Yehanna knew that he didn’t. “What time is it?”

“11:10.” she replied, her entire disposition displaced, and dejected.

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There are nine more stories where these came from and they will all be available to you on January 27th, 2016. So, my dear readers, stay tuned for the release of “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity“.

Freebies that You WANT to Get

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Hello everyone! Author Synful Desire is in the giving spirit and does not care if you are naughty or nice.

For a limited time, she is offering not one but TWO of her novelettes, absolutely FREE on Amazon!

Genre: Contemporary Urban Drama

What happens when passion blinds reason? The ardent fire of desire meets the shocking and harsh blows of reality in this Prelude of Prism. The convoluted relationships of three individuals morph into a rainbow of disarray.

Grab Your Copy Here

 

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Genre: Erotica/Contemporary Romance

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Erotic
Never underestimate the steam of a hot caffeinated beverage infused with the flavor of imagination. Wake up your senses while savoring “Kona”.

Experimental
A simple ad gives a curious skeptic a lot more than he was bargaining for. Check out the hair-raising experience while combing through “Tresses”.

Entertaining
Darbi has her share of bad luck. She is unexpectedly in job purgatory and has no chance of ever getting a promotion. Her online dating profile sat months without any responses. Why should she continue?

As she signed on to delete everything entirely, three responses catch her eye. All are different but each has something about them which makes Darbi want to meet all three. Ade appears to be the guy next door. Boyde looks like a supermodel. Choise looks like the rugged type.

When all is not what it seems, Darbi has concluded that her love life is mating with her job status in purgatory. Will anything come in handy to turn her luck around?

This version of “Handy” includes an epilogue, as well as Darbi speak.

Erotic, Experimental, and Entertaining—All come in Handy when experiencing a Good Release.

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Carol Cassada Presents “Westmore” Redone

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Greetings,

Today the members of All Authors P&P are bring you a phenomenal cover reveal, celebrating the re-release of “Westmore” by Author Carol Cassada.

First, the blurb:

Three families come together in this soap opera style romance. Westmore is the story of the Greens, the Braxtons, and the Reynolds—families’ enveloped by drama threefold.

Charlette Green mourns the loss of her husband while battling her dislike for her son’s new love. One day, handsome Detective Bryant comes into her life, rescuing her abandon. Meanwhile, Scott and Alicia, musical siblings, fight their way to the top of the charts when tragedy strikes.

Andrew Braxton is a ruthless and influential businessman who runs his household the same way he runs his company … with an iron fist. Upon learning his son Wayne plans on abandoning the family company, which Andrew has dedicated his life to, Andrew will do everything and anything in his power to stop Wayne from leaving.

After Laura Reynolds’ divorce, she and her daughter Megan move back home to live with her father. Her plan is to start life anew, relinquishing all sorrow. Little does Laura realize that it is harder than she thinks to leave the past behind.

Drama, mayhem, love and heartache are the ruling elements in this small New England town called Westmore.

Now, little bit about the author.

carol-logoAuthor Bio:

Carol Cassada hails from a small town in Virginia. Growing up, Carol loved to read, but it wasn’t until her teens when she decided to be a writer. After taking a creative writing class, Carol set out on her writing journey.

After graduating from college, Carol began writing her first book, Going Home Again. Since then, she’s written and published 6 volumes in the Westmore series. With a penchant for romance and drama, Carol’s books draw you in with their soap opera essence.

Although romance is her main genre, Carol has expressed interest in writing other genres. With a notebook full of ideas, Carol promises there’s more to come with her stories.

Links:

Website

Twitter: @dramacjc

Facebook

roses2Now, without further ado we present you with the new cover of “Westmore” by Carol Cassada.

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by

Carol Cassada

Coming December 1st, 2016

Oh My! To date or not to date?

Greetings,

I’d like to offer all of you a very random moment of a personal admittance:

From time to time I indulge in Funky Dineva. Why? Because I find his thoughts and theories phenomenally insightful.

With that said, recently I came across this video which was shared with me by a close friend. She was keen of asking my thoughts on this issue. Now, before I speak on them, it’s imperative that you watch the video (if you haven’t already).

I only have one thing to say, then I will get into my own thoughts.

DINEVA, YOU HAVE HIT THE PROVERBIAL NAIL RIGHT ON THE HEAD!

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The unfortunate truth of my life is that I have been single for well into a decade now. Truly, it is not from lack of trying but from scarcity of quality.

Call me selective, but I need a mate that will enhance my existence, not be a detriment to it.

I have never been the sort to settle, and as it seems, in today’s society there is a growing trend of settling for less than what one is worth or what one wants.

Before I go any further, I suppose it is important to point out several facts about myself that most do not know. However, in knowing, the general public may be able to understand. Perhaps even relate.

Fact Number 1:

While my vocabulary may be expansive, that by no means implies that I am obnoxious or arrogant. On the contrary; I am a gentle soul. I am kind, understanding and bighearted. Moreover, most consider me easy to talk to.

Fact Number 2:

I am sapiosexual. Am I gay? Yes. Being gay simply does not imply that one is attracted to any man. I am solely attracted to men that stimulate my mind. In stimulating my mind, they in turn stimulate my body.

Fact Number 3:

I am not now, nor have  I ever been the needy sort. I love and appreciate my independence. As a matter of fact, I NEED IT. Due to this, I cannot be with a needy, jealous man.

Fact Number 4:

The way to my heart is by your ears. Yes, that’s correct. Not my stomach, but rather, your ears. This is to say, that a man will win me over, if he just listens to me.

No, I do not mean obey, nor do I mean that he should never speak.

What I do mean is an equal give and take of conversation and listening.

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It saddens me to admit that even with the little that I require, it is still impossible to find a partner that will fit the bill. Please understand that I am very pragmatic and DO HAVE realistic expectations. I never thought of life as a fairy tale. I’ve never been one to believe in perfection either. I am willing to be with the right man for ALL of his VIRTUES AND FAULTS. What I cannot do is settle for less than I want and need. “What is that?” you might be pondering.

Well, it is the following:

A kind, caring, well spoken, intellectual man, who is neither needy, nor jealous. That is it. And, as small as this list might be, I still find it impossible to fulfill.

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In recent weeks I’d started dating a man who was kind, caring, not needy or jealous, BUT was less than intelligent. This was displayed in his nonsensical form or processing information. Something which, unfortunately, led to his reacting to certain situations in an ill-advised manner. This was no fault of his, to be sure, for one cannot make intelligence bloom where the soil is effete.

Nevertheless, it played an enormous part in the fact that I am no longer seeing him. You see, at times I would speak to him on subjects of considerable importance, and he would nod his understanding. Yet, in due time, when it was time for him to act on the matter, I realized that his interpretation of what I’d said was askew. It fell extraordinarily short of what I’d actually said.

After this happened, I took some time to reflect inwardly on the past decade and my encounters with potential suitors. When I did, I realized that a trend arose.

  • Most men advertised themselves as something they were not, leading me to believe that they might be the right man for me.
  • The general public had developed an unrealistic expectation of what the dating world should be, and in the attempt to adapt to it, they created a persona that is not genuine to themselves.
  • Men like myself are in short supply. I do not say this to sound ostentatious, but as a real analysis.
  • The men I AM INTERESTED, ARE NOT interested in me, for they have their own set of expectations which, in all actuality, might never be met.

So, it is with a heavy heart and a sound mind, that I’ve come to the unfathomable conclusion that I might never find what I am looking for. Thank you Dineva, for assuring me that I am not alone in the matter.😦

Until next time,

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Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity

Greetings.🙂

Commencing this blog post as though in the middle of a conversation …

One of my favorite pieces from the upcoming “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” is a story I wrote called “Tyronian Rapture“.

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Tyronian Rapture” is a historical LGBT Erotic Romance. Focusing on Meredith, a young white well off women who is enraptured by Regina, the black daughter of the family’s house servant.

This piece, whiles short is very powerful because of the story inside of the Erotica. This is a story of secret love which it vexed twofold; the fact that it is lesbian love, and the fact that it is also interracial love. Two times the taboo.

Please, enjoy this excerpt. I pray that you enjoy it.

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Tyronian Rapture

By: Adonis Mann

© Adonis Mann & All Authors Publishing House

line-dividerSummer 1841

Victorian England

Cherry Blossom petals from a tree procured in Japan carried adrift with the breeze, the smell of humidity and grass rode past, wafting across beautiful Regina’s face and all I could do was sit and stare. She was lovely in every sense of the limited word, for her resplendence was akin to a celestial being. An angel, to be sure. Like none I had ever laid eyes upon. She took my breath away, and I was content to let her.

Her large eyes, chocolatey. Her skin, like the finest grade of caramel. Her unwieldy, black curls pulled to the back of her head in a bun. And the conundrum lie in my desire to see them lose and entangled in my hands. A coveting more trenchant than my knowledge that it was ungodly. I was captured by my dear Regina’s beauty. Her full lips longed to be licked, while I imagined that her smooth skin and voluptuous curves yearned to be caressed.

From a distance I basked in her allurement, secretly—watching as she picked the wild flowers from the field in order to prepare a centerpiece for our dinner table for tea. If I could walk through the window ajar as a phantom, then as a phantom I would delight in her existence.

The impasse, my predilection. The penchant to fancy the reprobate. And, whilst my heart and mind remained enthralled by my point of desire, my body lay captive inside of this wretched place.

“Meredith,” Mother called, startling me from my hypnosis, Regina. Such was the effect she had on me. In my dreams I touched every inch of her exquisite dark sheath, then kissed every fraction, ensuring to not miss a spot.

“Meredith, child, come here. Must you always sit there like a proper simpleton, staring upon nothingness? Come here at once!”

“Yes mother,” I replied as I lowered my head to the ground in reverence of her heed. A curtsey followed.

“Mary, do you see this here?” Mother asked Regina’s mother, the head handmaiden of our family home. Their family had been with ours for years, therefore a trusted lot. “This child is so restless and overzealous …” Mother indirectly reprimanded, addressing Mary while speaking of me, then ending her admonition with a tsk. “Meredith, why do you trot about like a boy? ‘Tis not the proper behavior for a lady.”

My reply was a humble shrug, and the lowering of my eyes to the ground. Mother never knew when to vacate a subject, therefore continued with her vexing drivel, concluding her parlance with a “… would you please sew it, darling? Thank you.” the statement was followed by a flip of the wrist in dismissal of sweet Mary whom then left the room.

line-dividerI sincerely hope that you’ve enjoyed reading this excerpt as much as I’ve enjoyed writing the story. I pray that you are ready and willing to give “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” as shot once it is released this winter.

Until soon,

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What’s Happening in my Upcoming Anthology

Greetings everyone,

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Yesterday, I had a lovely conversation with my All Authors Publishing House Mentor, Queen of Spades. She’s a wonderful, wonderful mentor, and continually has great advice.

Upon speaking to her, she suggested that I start sharing a bit about my upcoming, solo work, anthology.

I know that I’ve talked at length about several of my works, but the one thing that I never really speak on is “The Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity“, an anthology that is expected to be released the end of this year, and is written solely by your truly.

I’m sure you’re wondering, why such a title? Well, it is because it’s the best title that would fit this work. My short stories have a certain rhyme, rhythm and flow. They are much like music, they sync into one another creating a ravishing erotic effect, leaving behind an intense feeling of wantonness. While they are mostly catered to the LGBTQIA community, they can also easily be enjoyed by the straight community.

The way “The Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” will be set up a bit differently than most anthologies available on the market today.

This book will be meant to last the reader all year long, should he/she so desire. It will also have the benefit of readers being able to go back to it time and time again.

I will be incorporating 12 stories; 3 for each season of the year. This will give the reader the benefit of enjoying the book a great many ways:

  • By reading it all at once; devouring the intensity in one sitting.
  • Perhaps, reading one story a month, so as to make it last all year.
  • Reading the stories during the seasons with which they correspond.
  • Nostalgically reading a story catered to one season, while being in another.

Or a great many other ways—whatever toots the reader’s horn, if you will.

Here are some of the titles that will be found in “The Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity“.

Winter: Prismatic Slumber

Spring: Metamorphosis

Summer: Tyronian Rapture

Fall: Her Seductions

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Well, now that you have an idea of what “The Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” is about, be on the look out for more information on the collection, and of course, the pending Winter Release.

Until next time my wonderful followers.

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Book Release by Y. Correa

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Greetings!

Today we are celebrating the release of the 2nd installment in the Earth 8-8-2 Saga, “Earth 8-8-2: Genesis’ Rebellion“.

To celebrate this release, it’s imperative to share with you the concept of birth of the Saga.

DeepBlueDividerIn 2014 Y. Correa was preparing a concept for the then “soon to be released” Concordant Vibrancy: Unity. Being that Y. Correa is a Multi-genre author, who’s an immense lover of Science Fiction and the theme of that anthology was unity, Y thought to herself, “Wouldn’t it be cool to unify genres and various fictional beings?

Instantly the premise of the Earth 8-8-2 Saga was born. Part Science Fiction, part Paranormal and part Dark Drama, the Earth 8-8-2 Saga encompasses the life of a being which was created to be the Savior of Earth 882’s Mankind. Traversing parallel universes, multiple earths and various lifeforms, the Earth 8-8-2 Saga tells that tale of Genesis, a being which is a hybrid of an 882 Earthling, vampire, goddess and superhuman.

In the first installment, “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project”, Y. Correa lays the foundation for the saga by telling the tale of Genesis’ creation.

In this NEWLY RELEASED installment, “Earth 8-8-2: Genesis’ Rebellion”, Y. Correa further elaborates on Genesis’ enterprise to obtain reprisal.

IMG_0373cooltext182350479929388Chapter 2

The beeping sound which resounded amidst the silence of the scarcely occupied room did nothing to alert anyone, for those there were already at attention. Endeavors such as these were bound to have an audience.

Three sets of eyes peered into the mammoth glass, liquid filled container that housed Project Armageddon (Code Name: Experiment Eight-eight-two-dash-five-point-one); General Townsen’s, Doctor Theodor Belt’s and Acinom Zenit’s. The tank: a matrix created to nourish and sustain Project Armageddon—grow and strengthen it to its fullest capacity.

Acinom pushed a button then flipped a switch on the rotundus supercomputer which covered over half the wall and the sound ceased.

“Acinom,” called Doctor Belt, his voice raised, as though she were in another room, “check his pulse.” Acinom’s eyes shrank to slivers, the disdain of being yelled at pestered her.

“Yes, Doctor.” Acinom reached over, pushing another button which caused a spectacle of waves and numbers to appear on the computer screen in front of them. “Normal, Doctor.” she concluded.

“Good, good.” responded the happy Doctor.

Before any more hoopla could transpire, General Townsen trumped the tangible glee in the room, his voice filled with animosity. “How much longer before Experiment Eight-eight-two-dash-five-point-one is activated?” the dryness in his tone leaving much to be desired. Acinom frowned then squinted; chomping at the bit to put him in his place, although that was not necessarily her place.

Doctor Belt interjected, “Well Commander,” he walked towards the titanic, rectangular, transparent glass cistern which had a wide array of tubes and mechanisms affixed to it, and placed his hand on the glass, as though attempting to touch his creation. “It shouldn’t be much longer.” The gleam in Doctor Belt’s eyes was akin to a maniacal scientist basking in the glory of his creation—mad and euphoric. Doctor Belt pressed his forehead to the glass and shut his eyes, then released a long sigh of gratification.

Inside the immense vessel, attached to innumerable contraptions, floated the inanimate body of being liken to an Earth 8-8-2 man, but not.

General Townsen huffed his satisfaction, turned, pivoting like a soldier about to march, and left the room.

DeepBlueDividerFor a limited time only, you get can get “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project” FREE on Kindle!

But … don’t delay!

GET YOUR COPY OF

“EARTH 8-8-2: GENESIS’ REBELLION”

ON AMAZON TODAY!

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