Note: this review was first posted on Reedsy Discovery, an awesome website that pairs independent authors and readers. To see the post there, click here.
If you are a book reviewer and want to contribute reviews on Reedsy Discovery, click here.
(Note: this post contains affiliate links. If you purchase something through this post I will get a small commission at no extra cost to you)
⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 3 out of 5.
SUMMARY
After decades of bitter warfare, the Solarian Empire finally scored a pyric victory over demon ruled Traag. Now, Solaria is a tottering wreck of a nation, one step from the brink of collapse. Worse, the demons are still out there.
Tia traveled to the imperial capital to testify at the trial of a traitor tied to eldritch abominations. She stayed to court the rowdy knightly heroes roaming the palace halls. It seems normal – yet she is plagued by strange dreams and the court intrigues are taking a deadly turn.
Rebecca, Tia’s maid and personal minstrel, is ‘playing the palace’ – but there is something wrong with her music.
Sir Peter Cortez, Tia’s protector, parties with his fellow knights while navigating intrigues.
Kyle, Tia’s carriage driver and a petty magician, confronts his past and contemplates his future.
Opportunity and peril await them all.
REVIEW
After the events of Empire: Country the sequel follows the adventures of an ensemble cast of characters. Tia is still trying to find a suitable match for matrimony. Rebecca has musical talent and should be having the performance of her lifetime but there is something wrong with the music. Sir Peter Cortez is filling out his days in debauchery and unpleasant family matters. And Kyle is trying to figure out what a man with his talents can do and how he can further his fortunes. Meanwhile there is an evil presence growing in the capital which could destroy them all.
This second volume starts out with a prologue that definitely expands the world of Empire but seems as if it may be resolved further on in the series. There are more revelations from the past for most of the characters, and they all, in one way or another, are struggling to confront the reality of how to live their lives in the future. This all means quite a bit of political maneuvering as people try to position themselves to best survive whatever may be coming next. In the background of all this there is a bit of mystery and corruption that a few of the characters are able to perceive for one reason or another.
There are some passages which are a bit confusing for the reader but may become more clear as the story goes on. There are also some spelling and grammar issues in the book but the story is strong enough to keep the reader engaged for the most part.
It’s clear that Tim Goff is attempting to tell an ambitious story with a lot of moving parts. This second volume expands on that and has plenty of intrigue and action along the way. The idea of setting most of the main events after a major war has ended gives the story just enough edge to make it unique in fantasy books. This second volume touches quite a lot on themes of finding direction in one’s life and career, especially after the world has undergone a significant change. These themes certainly resonate to the audience today.
If you enjoy fantasy books with elements of cosmic horror you’ll enjoy the Empire series.
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Happy Friday internet! I was thinking about an unruly mob when I wrote this story. Hope you enjoy it!
The Librarian by Adam Wright
When the young man came in to check out a series of medical volumes I thought little of it. He had a tenacity beyond any I had seen before. Most days he came in at the sound of the church bell ringing in the noon hour. He stayed until the bells rang once more at midnight. The days he did not arrive must have been spent at his lectures or in study with his compatriots. I never saw him without a book in his hands.
Late at night when all the lamps were low I would see him at the tables. Books were strewn about and he would scribble furiously upon his pads, the ink pots running low, broken quills at the floor. I often walked to him quietly and tapped upon his shoulders. Every time he would start out of his seat as if he had been waiting for some unseen horror to come at him. It was only I, the humble librarian, come to send him on to wherever he could sleep. Presumably at his dormitories near the school. Later, I heard there was some site far off from the village he frequented. I never knew if this was true or not.
I saw him with a young woman on several occasions. Some said it was his sister, others his bride to be. It did not matter to me, I only loaned him the use of my tables and the books upon my shelves. His matters were not my matters. Still, when I saw them walking together in the street he looked happier than when he was at his books. The woman positively gleamed radiance in those days whenever she was spotted with him.
As time went by the young man became more frantic. Dark circles appeared under his eyes and he seemed to enter in a mad passion. He was searching for something but unable to grasp it. I spent hours with him walking through shelves finding volumes of knowledge for him to consume.
His requests became more esoteric. He demanded volumes I did not own and had not considered obtaining. He was a likable fellow and so driven with knowledge I found myself purchasing from dealers in antiquities and even occasionally those known to be associated with the criminal elements in the village to procure some volume or other. Most frequently they dealt with human anatomy and the study of the deceased.
The only other subject he found interesting had to do with weather. He was maddeningly curious about lightning and how it might be harnessed. I told him it may be a better idea to leave God’s will and the force of nature alone. He mocked me for a fool but I did not take it personally. Good men are still good men even when they disagree.
These long days of study were interrupted by months of absence. I found myself wondering where my young friend had gone off to. I wished him well but kept about my business.
When there were rumors of children gone missing or possibly taken from the village the worry for my young friend grew in my mind. I was not concerned with any violence being done to him. For all his academic rigor he seemed a hale and hearty fellow who could fend off attack if necessary. That sweet woman he was associated with, however, she was an altogether different story. She was slight enough a strong wind might have blown her away. If thugs or bandits were craven enough to abscond with children who knew what lows these miscreants might get up to when confronted with a beautiful young woman?
I was quite relieved when days later he came in once again. He had a much more focused list of books he was interested in. Had I known he would tear pages out I never would have let him peruse these copies but he did this in secret when I was not looking. I don’t know what he expected to find there nor why he would keep the pages for himself when he could simply copy down a passage if he wished.
Once I discovered his actions I confronted the fellow. I told him in no uncertain terms if he was to damage the property of the library he would not be welcomed back. This set his anger to boil and we nearly came to blows. In fact, he pushed past me, grabbed a book I had recently procured for him and he ran out of the building shouting to me that it was the last piece of the puzzle. What this puzzle was I had no knowledge of.
I considered following him but did not think recovering one volume, no matter how rare, was worth leaving all the books in the library unattended.
It was not long after when tragedy struck the village. There were wild rumors of a hulking creature with the strength of ten men roaming around the countryside. I never believed the wilder rumors but were there a man, perhaps a deranged one, in the countryside, it would explain the disappearance of the village children.
The events on the night of the fire are somewhat difficult to ascertain in their entirety. It seems the townsfolk were driven to anger over the loss of their children and the terror spreading from these rumors of a creature. They began to assemble in ones and twos and eventually became a large group.
I was walking home after hours when I saw it. They say it was a creature but I can tell you it was not. It was a man. A large one, hideously scarred, and uglier than any visage I had seen before. He was running past me toward the old mill. For a moment I thought about stopping this man but in the moment I saw his face, I felt pity in my heart. There was something everlastingly tragic in him. Perhaps things may have been different had I stopped this man. Perhaps there would have been less death amongst those I knew and cared for as patrons of my little library. There is no way to know for certain.
Soon the townsfolk became a mob. They carried their farming implements and held torches aloft to light their way. It was this group that passed me next. They asked where “the creature” had gone. Rather than try to reason with an unruly mob roused to anger I simply pointed. I hoped the man was not harmed but had he been the one tormenting the village I suppose his end would have been justified.
By night’s end much of the village had been burnt. Many people died. I saw the flames at the mill and decided the best course of action was to return to the library to defend it from any threatening inferno. Luckily for me, my little building remained safe through the night.
Tragically, I learned later, the beautiful young woman who so often accompanied my friend died that same evening. It was unclear if she were a victim of the fire, the man on the loose, or perhaps came to some other end. In my mind I keep seeing the anger and madness in my friend’s eyes as he told me my book was the last piece of his puzzle. This, to me, was more frightening than this “creature.”
The woman remains dead and my friend has not been seen for some time. There are rumors he took to sailing in an attempt to reach the North Pole. Ridiculous rumors are rampant in small towns and villages such as mine but this one seems more far fetched than any I have heard.
There have been months before when he has been absent and I still hope to see him again. If anything I think his grief may overwhelm him. It was clear he was everything to her. I was able to tell she was everything to him but I’m not certain he knew the same.
We’ve nearly returned to normal at the library and in the village. The reconstruction of the mill continues and I heard there was some extensive damage to one of our largest estates but the structure itself remains standing. Strangely, there were several graves disturbed from the cemetery but I believe this was simply school children attempting some ill conceived prank.
I think soon I shall see my friend once more. I hope he will be less frantic this time and perhaps take some time to see life around him rather than so obsessively pursuing his studies. Until that time, I have set several of his favorite volumes aside as no one else has been remotely interested in them. I’m sure they will get use someday, however, for, as they say, knowledge is power.
Note: this review was first posted on Reedsy Discovery, an awesome website that pairs independent authors and readers. To see the post there, click here.
If you are a book reviewer and want to contribute reviews on Reedsy Discovery, click here.
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Summary
In a not-so-distant future apocalyptic world, everything known has been thrown into a whirlwind of despair. Life as Josh Kimbo knows it is lived in a deep underground bunker built by the government nearly a century prior. Ten years of living in a secure bunker have driven Josh and those around him to their brink. Josh is forced to decide whether to escape from an authoritarian leader’s firm grip or risk breathing the “toxic” air above ground. Josh not only faces the people whose purpose is to put him down but his biggest enemy continues to be himself. Throughout his journey, Josh not only battles outside forces, he battles against his own inner demons to discover who he is. Love, fear, pain, comfort, action, and tragedy drive Josh’s story past anything that he thought was possible for himself. Physically and mentally.
⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 3 out of 5.
REVIEW
Josh Kimbo leads a simple life in the Underground. Ten years ago, there was a great disaster and since that time Josh and his brother have lived in a relatively safe space underground, protected from the radiation above and doing what they can to live a meager existence. Josh tends the garden in the underground, helping to grow the food to feed the people living there. It’s an important job that helps him to feel fulfilled but he still has the sense that there is more to life. The community is strictly regulated by the Governor of the Underground. Any infraction against the rules leads to punishment up tp and including execution. While this system seems to work well enough, there are signs the community is questioning what the future will hold. When Josh’s friend Reek is taken away by the Governor, it’s inevitable Josh will be taken next. Josh’s brother has a bold plan to get them out of the Underground. But, even if Josh makes it out, he doesn’t know what kind of harsh conditions he’ll have to face and if he will be able to survive. Will he give in to his fear or will he survive to help those he knows and loves?
The Underground is at times reminiscent of The City of Ember in setting but does tell a unique story. There are some intriguing action scenes and the reader gets to know Josh quite well as a character. While the author does a decent job of putting the story together, there are times where there is more telling than showing. There is also a bit too much head hopping in some scenes for my taste but overall this doesn’t detract too much from the story. The book truly picks up in the last third of the story and has a few surprises by the end.
If you like post-apocalyptic books like The Hunger Games, The City of Ember, or Divergent, you will likely find this worth reading.
Happy Friday everyone! Here’s a little story I wrote, hope you enjoy!
Space Walk by Adam Wright
Transmission begins
Empty. Vast. Infinite. It’s everything I have ever imagined it would be. The universe expands beyond the line of my sight and off into the black eternity of forever. The quiet here is perfection. The only sound is my breathing, in and out. The exhalations of my lungs, automatic and repetitive, keep going. There is nothing else. Not all the bright stars I can see, not all the planets who have died out eons ago but are still shining to my eyes. The only thing that matters now is the breath of my lungs.
I see the space ship floating away from me. Rather, I float away from it but I can’t tell the difference. The hose of my tether is leaking oxygen as it hangs off the side of the ship, flopping like a sprinkler gone mad. I hope Molly remembers me. I’ll never know.
Communications are lost, visual is sketchy at best. I dreamed of being up here since I was six years old, wanting to understand how I am part of this vast universe and what an insignificant creature like me could possibly hope to do with that knowledge. I’m ultimately about to become a part of what we all will be someday, so much cosmic dust and debris. I don’t mind. It’s enough for me to know I was here and I saw it. I only wish I could document it. This recording may reach someone someday. I have no way of knowing if they will be able to understand it or if they will have any idea of who I was. I suppose it doesn’t matter.
I may go peacefully, the last of my oxygen cutting out and with a bit of mercy, I will become unconscious before the end. The other possibility is I will be ripped apart violently by something floating out here with me. A cosmic missile, that might crack my face shield or tear open my suit, or if I am unlucky, gouge right through me. I hope the end comes quickly and there is enough blood loss for me to pass out before I feel the impact. Or perhaps the vacuum of space will do its violence to me and choke me to death in mere seconds.
Molly never wanted me to leave. How could I tell her what it means to be out here? How could I say to her that as much as she means to me, I still have to see this, to experience this? One person can’t compete with the vastness of the cosmos. I’m living proof of that right now. Well, living for the moment at any rate.
There are unexplainable sights, there are stars beyond the beauty of humanity out here. There is a vast and deep universe. It’s secrets will never be completely unlocked. I don’t mind. I get to be a part of it now. To all those who ever knew me or loved me, goodbye. Molly, I hope you hear this but even if you don’t, I was thinking of you at the end. Go out and explore.
Note: this review was first posted on Reedsy Discovery, an awesome website that pairs independent authors and readers. To see the post there, click here.
If you are a book reviewer and want to contribute reviews on Reedsy Discovery, click here.
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SUMMARY
The decades long war against demon ruled Traag left the Solarian Empire a decimated wreck. Rebuilding the nation is a nightmare. Worse, the demons are still out there.
Tia traveled to Cosslet Barony in search of a nobleman willing to marry a wealthy commoner. She finds feuding aristocrats and an impoverished populace terrorized by a monster out of legend. Then matters get really bad…
⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 3 out of 5.
Lady Tia Samos of Equitant is a well connected merchant looking to find new enterprises and a suitable match for matrimony. She has gone around the Solarian Empire in an attempt to do both. While she has found some potential matches, none have worked out thus far. She travels with her companions Peter and Kyle who both saw action in the war. Peter is a knight and fighter and Kyle has some magical abilities, although he lets drink get to his head a bit too often. Tia and her party head to Cosslet Castle to see if a match with the minor noble and Peter’s half brother Ian both in business and marriage might be worthwhile.
While the war has ended, the Empire is still feeling some ill effects from it and everyone from peasants to nobles are trying to recover. To make matters worse, the demons who waged the war in the first place are not entirely gone. Tia an Ian make a discovery of some unknown resources that may help Cosslet Castle come back to full financial health. Unfortunately, there have been sightings of strange creatures and deaths of peasants and livestock plaguing the surrounding area. Tia will have to survive not only using her wits and friends but also avoiding the life threatening demons.
Empire: Country makes a good start for a fantasy series, taking a few key elements rarely seen in fantasy. We get to see the aftermath of war, rather than the throes of it, and Tia in particular, takes a major role in events. The book does have a large cast of characters and while it mostly manages the balance well, there are some spots where the shift in perspective seems not entirely necessary. At times this leads to some confusion on the part of the reader but most of those instances are minor.
The action that ensues is quite enjoyable and the last third of the book is surprising and inventive. The story here makes for a good start on what could be an excellent series.
If you like epic fantasy books with elements of cosmic horror and some truly nail biting moments, Empire: Country is a great choice to read next.
Happy Friday internet folks! Here’s a little story I wrote, hope you enjoy!
Invasion by Adam Wright
It was early morning when the sirens blared. The skies went dark and there was a smell of sulfur in the air. We ran out into the streets clutching our ears against the noise. Despite the darkness, glaring lights broke through. I had to shield my eyes from the intense pain of it. Most of us clutched our ears against the din. The sirens sounded loud and long, rescue vehicles making their way to pick up whatever wreckage they could. The low hum wouldn’t stop. The constant noise drove some of us mad.
I watched as people jumped from windows, making the sign of their faith as they fell to their death on the concrete below. Had I known what was in store, I would have envied them their foresight. Walking past the rubble and the wreckage it was too surreal to understand.
There had been no warning, nothing to alert us. In my mind, when I remember those moments, I still imagine the ships as flat saucers. The screen footage shows the reality of gigantic structures, larger than mountains, all in slick lines and angles, like arrows fired from an ancient bow. Yet, I see the saucers. I guess it’s what I expected them to look like. Little green men, you know?
I had been on my way to work like most of us. I grabbed a little pick me up beverage, part of my morning routine, and was close to the building. Seconds later I ducked for cover and wondered what could possibly come next.
The news feeds picked it up quickly. If I had access to a screen at the time, I would have gathered more information. As it was, I was concerned with surviving the moment and getting to Sara. I had to know she was alright.
The school was near me and I felt my legs pumping before I realized what I was doing. I traveled past the rescue vehicles, past fires already burning. I covered my ears. I don’t know when I realized I dropped everything I needed for work. All the documents and plans for the day were irrelevant. Forgotten detritus in a sea of debris that no longer mattered. Everything we knew, everything we understood changed forever in a matter of minutes. There was no turning back from it and no escape.
I arrived at the school and rushed past the gates, into the building. Sara was covering her head, cowering in the corner with a few others. I picked her up and ran outside. She clutched my side and clung to my clothing. I had no idea where to go. It was too big for me to understand. How could anyone understand this?
I imagined we would have to look to our leaders to sort this out, if it could be sorted out. In moments giant view screens appeared in front of us. It seemed they materialized out of nowhere. I still don’t know how they accomplished that. Then we saw the gruesome faces, shades of many colors, tiny eyes and mouths, snarling, speaking in languages we could not possibly know.
It took months for us to fight back. Months to gather resources, plan strategies, and attack without a word of warning, just as they did to us. Every day during that time, I had one goal. Keep Sara alive. I’m not a perfect parent but I did my job. I sacrificed as much as anyone else to do it but I have no regrets.
After it was all over, after we beat them back and they left us alone, Sara had aged more than I could have imagined. I’d done my part, fought alongside the others. It was just luck I was in the battalion that destroyed their main ship. But it was satisfying seeing those aggressive and angular structures split apart in a burst of fire and flames.
After all the heroes’ welcomes and accolades I received, I think there is only one relevant question. Of course, Sara was the one to ask it. I wish I had an answer for her then or now when she said, “Where is Earth and why do they want to destroy us?”
I fear there is no answer I can give her. I only pray they never decide to come back.
Happy Friday everyone! Here’s a little story I wrote, hope you like it. And remember, always buy the cookie!
Twenty Years of Walking Away by Adam Wright
“Is that it then?” She bit her lower lip.
“That’s it. Nothing more to say. See you around, Sara,” Francesco wrapped his scarf around his neck.
She blew on her hands and shoved them into the pockets of her pea coat. Her steel blue eyes met his. They lingered on him. It was a searching look, one filled with despair and the slightest hint of hope.
His eyes turned away. He turned and walked away. He felt the pinch of his toes inside his loafers as he walked. He passed stores full of winter coats, people laughing as they walked past him, and he could smell the scent of chocolate chip cookies wafting from a cart near the corner.
Sometimes he felt the walk never ended. Twenty years of Francesco walking away from her. He’d convinced himself it was the right thing to do. When there were no words left, when you had gone through everything, and you knew there was no more to it, you walked away. That’s what you did.
But if walking away was the right thing, why did he always return to the memory? Why was he still walking? The same corner, the same winter, the same day, every year.
The first year, he hoped he would spot her. He thought maybe he could admit he was wrong and they would hold gloved hands, buy a cookie from the cart and split it down the middle. The second year, he held out hope, noticing subtle changes in the winter coats that adorned the store windows. The third year, he spotted a woman in a pea coat. He ran to tap her on the shoulder but when he got close enough, he saw the woman had her hair tied up in a bun with a silver bobby pin. It wasn’t Sara. He brushed past the woman with slight embarrassment, hoping she wouldn’t think too much of it. The fourth year, he almost gave up. He had a cold anyway but he thought of how much he missed her. He wandered, coughing into his elbow for hours. She wasn’t there. The fifth year, the cart was gone but there was a truck with an expanded menu of cookies. Francesco only smelled chocolate chip coming from it.
He tried to reach out to her. Her phone number was changed. Someone new lived in her apartment. Her email bounced back to him with the message “unable to send messages.” They stared at him like accusations. He had relationships, mostly short, with the occasional glimmer of commitment. They never quite stuck. He didn’t remember walking away from those women, only from Sara.
The sixth year, he brought flowers with him. He thought if he had them, he could give them to her if he saw her, and if not, he could give them to a little girl and make her day. He saw a six year old girl in a red coat, clutching a chocolate chip cookie in one hand, holding her mother’s in the other. The girl was thrilled to have flowers and a cookie on the same day. The seventh year, he walked to the corner from the other side. Maybe it was direction that made the difference. He wasn’t sure why he kept doing it. The eighth year, his sister was visiting the city. In a pretense of showing her the sights, Francesco made sure to walk by the corner on the same day. His sister asked him if he wanted a cookie. He declined and waited for her to come back. She gave Francesco one anyway. He didn’t eat it. The ninth year, it was snowing. He bought a new pea coat and went back to the corner. He pretended he was a tourist, acting as if he was lost in the big city. It didn’t help and it didn’t stop the memory from returning. The tenth year, the truck was gone and there was a bakery there in its place. Francesco didn’t go inside. Sara wasn’t there. It still smelled like chocolate chip cookies.
Gray invaded his hair. His job prospects became better as time went on. He had so much but no Sara. He was tired of looking for her but something in him made him return to the corner. The kiss she planted on him the first time they went on a date, light like a feather, her head moving in like a bird. It was the sweetest kiss he ever received.
The eleventh year, was a work meeting. He scheduled it at the restaurant near the corner. His partners wanted to go to the bakery across the way for dessert. Jim had a slice of cake at the restaurant instead. The twelfth year, Francesco stood on the corner for almost an hour. No one noticed he was there. He noticed Sara wasn’t. The thirteenth year, he nearly gave up. He brought a picture with him, just in case she changed her hair or her face had rounded out in all that time. Francesco’s had. The fourteenth year, the bakery had repainted the exterior. There was a chocolate chip cookie with little hands and feet and googly eyes. The chips were arranged in a smile. Francesco didn’t stay long. He stopped hoping for Sara and started coming back from habit. The fifteenth year, he wanted to buy a coat but the coat shop had become a video game store. Sara still was not there.
He stopped questioning why he kept doing it. He started to think of it as his annual tradition, one held for himself and no one else. Like a sad Christmas card to send himself, just for kicks. He didn’t stop doing it though.
The sixteenth year he heard a joke that made him laugh, but he forgot it almost instantly. The seventeenth year pea coats were back in style and twice he thought he saw her. He was wrong both times. The eighteenth year he realized how old he felt. His legs ached in the cold now. He wrapped a scarf around his face for warmth. He could smell the cookies through the scarf. The nineteenth year, Francesco was on a date. He booked a table for two at the same restaurant from years before, the one that looked out on the corner. He hated himself for doing it. The twentieth year he was single again. When he got to the corner he stood. He thought about her eyes. They were steel blue and they held a hint of hope in them.
This was going to be the last year he did this. No more regrets. He couldn’t change the past. He’d done all he could to find her. It was time to move on. He went to the bakery to buy a cookie.
Sara was behind the counter. She wore a pink apron, her hair was tied in a bun with a silver bobby pin holding it in place.
Francesco closed his eyes and reopened them. It was Sara. Her hair had a streak of gray cutting into the blonde but her eyes were steel blue. Instead of a hint of hope, they held happiness.
“Francesco?”
He nodded.
“It’s been so long. I’ve got so much to tell you,” she said.
She told him how after he left, she followed him for a minute but decided to go to the cookie cart to make herself feel better. The man selling cookies at the cart was named Jordan. That’s what she named their first son. The business was good, growing each year. Soon they had enough for a truck, then a bakery. They’d remodeled it once. Francesco remembered.
Francesco couldn’t think of much to say so he told her how his business had grown as well.
“You know, I have a view of the corner from here. It’s funny but I think I’ve seen you standing out there,” she said.
“I do. Sometimes.” He blew on his hands and put them in his pea coat.
“I wanted to come out and talk to you but it was always so busy here. And you told me there was nothing more to say. I hope you’ll come back,” she said.
She handed him a cookie. It was chocolate chip. When Francesco tried to pay she wouldn’t let him. He took his cookie and walked away. He never ate it. He just kept walking.
Note: this review was first posted on Reedsy Discovery, an awesome website that pairs independent authors and readers. To see the post there, click here.
If you are a book reviewer and want to contribute reviews on Reedsy Discovery, click here.
(Note: this post contains affiliate links. If you purchase something through this post I will get a small commission at no extra cost to you)
SUMMARY
ACROSS TIME AND REALITY, THIS IS WHERE WE WILL FIND EACH OTHER.
In this mind-bending sequel, The Movement finds absolute genius and the prophesized time corrector living the life of his dream. His AI firm is booming, he’s in better control of his powers, and Akane is with him after all this time. But, there are gaps in his memory and a new enemy, Vandal, is hell-bent on destroying everyone and everything in Vincent’s life.
Vincent works frantically to stop him, but Vandal is always one step ahead with a sinister smile and blood on his hands. When Vandal comes after Akane, Vincent realizes there is only one way to protect her. Alter her reality so that she never meets Vincent.
To set things right, Vincent finds himself back at the core of time and reality, unveiling secrets from his past that reshaped his reality as he knew it. It only takes a moment to change everything. Alternate realities collide, and unfathomable powers and greeds unwind in this gripping new saga of the Time Corrector Series.
REVIEW
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 5 out of 5.
In the first volume of The Time Corrector series, Dr. Vincent Abajian, saw one of the only people who cared about him slip away lost to time. Vincent dedicated his life and all his resources to finding Akame. But in the process he also found Emika who he developed a romantic relationship with. Meanwhile his breakthroughs in AI technology and time travel created enemies he was unaware of, causing ripple effects that would sweep him and everything he cares about just out of his reach.
In The Movement we get a new perspective on several of the events from the first book and more of the puzzle of Vincent’s past is revealed. He’s now torn between Akame who he tried to rescue for more than thirty years and Emika, the mother of his child.
While Vincent struggles to put together lost memories and get a better understanding of his time powers, a new threat named Vandal is on the horizon. Dr. Abajian, Emika, Akame and everyone else in the little circle of brilliant scientists and business leaders are under threat. Vincent will be forced to use all skill, brilliance and cunning to outsmart his enemy while keeping those he loves safe. But doing the right thing sometimes means losing everything.
The Movement is the rare sequel that not only matches but perhaps outshines the original. Avi Datta has proven to be an exceptionally skilled writer, able to handle both deep human connection and incredible action sequences.
The story is not linear but still comes together with a sensible conclusion. A book similar to this would be The Time Traveller’s Wife, although Datta provides much more action than that book does.
If you love books capable of telling a non-linear story but still wrapping things up perfectly, The Movement is the book for you.
Happy Friday those of you out in cyberland! For my first Flash Fiction Friday of the year, I thought I would give you a story about New Year resolutions. Hope you enjoy!
Resolutions by Adam wright
Resolutions
Reduce the number of alien strongholds on the planet
Depower the CPU controlling all of the death robots
Clear the zombie fields
Finally patch up that garden and grow my own tomatoes
Utilize the high powered syringe rifles to cure the vampire hoard
Steal the codes from the megacorporation and transfer currency to the populace
Stop that knife wielding lunatic who keeps offing teenagers at that lake
Refresh the uploads on my cybernetic implants
Ensure the slumbering creature at the bottom of the ocean does not wake this year
Develop a more utilitarian saddle for riding the land worms
Affirmations
I can and will achieve my goals this year
I am the best me I can be
When the mind is set to win, the world is mine to win
If you imagine the impossible, you make the impossible, possible
If I fail at my goals I need to forgive myself
The world is laughing with me, not at me
Don’t carry the burdens of the world on your own shoulders
Taking time to clear my head is not selfish
I am strong, I am attractive, I am wise
There is not a death trap, tractor beam, minefield, laser grid or negative attitude I cannot survive
Annual goal setting mission statement
This year I will bring my best self to all that I do. I will be present in the moment and appreciate the life I have. I will not be envious of others who have more than me but will be grateful for what I do have. If I follow my plans I will be able to achieve my goals. I simply need to focus and I can perform better than I ever have. The cursed doll running amuck in the attic is not my fault but I will do my best to deal with it this year.
Obstacles
A negative mindset
An unwillingness to try new things
Language barriers between myself and the wolf creatures who keep growing to unusual size before devouring innocent bystanders
A year may seem like a long time but time is not on my side
Rat swarms
The possibility that the refrigeration units may have become sentient
I can be too hard on myself sometimes
Trusting innocent looking children who are capable of shapeshifting is not a good idea
I need to be more organized
Whatever that portal seems to be doing
Reality check on above resolutions
Who am I kidding? I do this to myself every single year. I should take that one off the list. I don’t know why I keep putting it there. I’m never going to garden. I don’t even like tomatoes!
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SUMMARY
Lewis’s life changes forever after waking up one morning to find the world’s population just gone. Stranded without food or water, he’s forced to use ingenuity to survive, foraging resources from the desolate city around him.
Until he discovers he’s not alone.
Lewis is threatened by a violent gang of gun-wielding scavengers led by a deranged madman. He learns these men are harvesting survivors, inflicting slavery and torture for a horrifying purpose. Outmanned and outgunned, Lewis and some newfound friends must band together, employing their collective wit and cunning against a deadly foe to avoid being killed. Or worse… captured.
DEADHEADING is a post-apocalyptic journey of survival, ingenuity, and a dollop of vengeance.
REVIEW
Lewis is an average loner. He’s living a fairly solitary life, hanging out at home, watching television, eating convenience meals and peanut butter cups. But around him, the world begins to change. A sickness permeates the globe and most of humanity dies off as a result.
Somehow, Lewis has survived on his own, unscathed watching it all unfold on television. Until there is no television. Or supermarkets. Or anything else you’d find in a modern civilized city. Including food and water. Lewis finally has to go out to scavenge food and water for himself in order to survive. It’s a difficult situation and potentially lethal.
It gets worse once Lewis finds other survivors. There are gun wielding lunatics who are oppressing other survivors through slavery and torture so they can live a comfortable existence. Lewis has found a way to grow his own food and take care of himself so these other people are a threat to everything Lewis has.
After an encounter with one of these groups, Lewis comes to find there are still some rational people left in the world. Now it’s on Lewis and this group of survivors to defend themselves from the gun toting madmen.
Overall, Deadheading does a good job of portraying what life would likely be like in a city devastated by illness almost to the point of zero population left. The beginning takes a little bit of time to get the story going but once it does there is plenty of action happening. A nice touch is that Lewis does not instantly go from being a couch potato to an action hero. The author, Paul Cristo, shows us how Lewis does his research and learns his way out of situations.
There are a few moments in the book that stretch the imagination a bit, but those are few and far between so they are ultimately forgivable.
If you like post apocalyptic fiction like The Walking Dead, Divergent, or The Hunger Games but without any supernatural elements and a story more grounded in reality, Deadheading is the book for you.
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