Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Singularity Sunrise 2: THE SILICON ROAD is live!




As West Africa recovers from economic collapse, Anatol Corporation sees new opportunities. Central to Anatol's plans is the Abidjan-Lagos Corridor, the silicon road that unites the region's megacities. It is virgin territory, promising rich rewards—and hidden dangers.

Anatol sends their trump card: Eden, the world's first sapient AI, embedded in their sales team. Escorting them is psychic contractor James Morgan and his team of elite bodyguards from Lithsman Security Solutions.When they arrive, the job goes sideways.

Hunted by criminals and mercenaries, Eden, Morgan and the Lithsmen are drawn into a shadowy world where megacorp intrigue and superpower ambitions collide. To survive, they must turn the tables against an invisible enemy in an unfamiliar land.

Powerful interests want Anatol out of Africa. But who? And why?

The truth lies at the end of the silicon road.

If they survive long enough to get there.

--

Singularity Sunrise 2: THE SILICON ROAD is now live on Amazon! I'm grateful to everyone who supported the series on IndieGoGo. With their help, Singularity Sunrise is my most successful series yet.

Blending high-intensity combat with cutting-edge tech and spirituality honed at the razor edge of life and death, Singularity Sunrise is the cyberpunk espionage thriller of the dark future.

Want to know the origins of this series? Click here for a FREE short story that details James Morgan's journey to become a Lithsman!

Thank you for your support, and please keep an eye out for Book 3: THE DIGITAL VEIL!

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Friday, September 18, 2020

"The Long Moonlight", a Fantasy Noir by Razorfist, Now Available!

The Excellence of Elocution, the Rageaholic, known to all as "Razorfist", is well-known as being a pulp fan. Now he has joined us down here in the arena, and below is the trailer for his debut release. This is a fantasy novel, and those who know the man's affection for the Thief series of videogames will immediately catch the vibe on offer; this is as much noir as it is pulp. If you're into Fritz Leiber's Lanhkmar series, then you should check this out.

And the relevant links are below:

It's good to see the man that's done so much to spread the word of the pulps general, and specifically The Shadow, to audiences that--at best--only know of the '90s films based on them or the myriad of media that are the offspring of the pulps (superhero comics and mecha anime being two of them) has put pen to paper to produce one of his own. I'll snag a copy when I can and come back with my take on it down the road, but I'm boosting this now because he's doing that blend that's difficult to pull off without screwing it up and I'm hoping that he has.

Thursday, September 17, 2020

The Covenant Chronicles 3: Prince of Shadows is live!

 

THE OLD GODS ARE COMING BACK!

When a black op goes awry, the Nemesis Project pulls deniable operator Luke Landon off the line. But while mortal authorities want him to stand down, the gods aren't done with him yet.

Pressed into a secret war between infernal and divine powers, Landon is thrust into a new campaign. The elder gods are returning to do battle with the Unmaker—and they are choosing agents to carry out their will.

In Japan, a goddess has chosen a shrine maiden as her soldier. The shadowy Organization, the secret rulers of the world, have her in their sights. Without official sanction or backup, Landon and his allies must go rogue to save her.

Landon has always been prepared to lay down his life. But this time, he may just have to give up his immortal soul.

--

Prince of Shadows is the latest installment of the supernatural espionage thriller series The Covenant Chronicles. A genre-twisting blend of military science fiction, urban fantasy and espionage thriller, the Covenant Chronicles is the story of a secret war within a War on Terror fought with magic and demons.

Prince of Shadows can be found on Amazon here!

Want a FREE cyberpunk espionage story? Click here to read a teaser for my next series SINGULARITY SUNRISE!

Saturday, September 5, 2020

Wolves of Babylon Chapter 11

 

Hold The Line

The rest of the week passed in relative peace. But only around Hunter’s Heights.

The Pantheon surveillance team disappeared. With the police investigating the ambush outside the Temple of Galen, and stepping up increased patrols, it was no longer prudent to maintain the operation. While the Pantheon’s influence surely extended into top floors of the BPD, it would not do for some low-level cop to ask the wrong questions.

The Street Wolves kept their distance too. Leaderless and bleeding, they retreated to their home turf and consolidated their numbers. In the nights that followed, a few of their senior members were found dead or dying on the streets, ripped up with long-range gunfire.

The Wolves turned to the Court of Shadows for protection. The Court flooded their turf with their troops, an overt show of strength and a low-key power play. If the Wolves couldn’t manage their territory, the Court would do it for them. The Court in turn hunted for the ones who had sniped their representatives.

The Pantheon suffered the brunt of their attentions. The Court sent a mission to discuss the situation with the senior Pantheon leadership. The priests, one and all, kept stonewalling them. They promised to order a ceasefire until they discovered the truth of the situation, but alas, the Pantheon was a decentralized faith and many of its members were unaffiliated with any one guru or god. Those they could not exercise control over.

On the street, a group of Shadows encountered a gang of Pantheon worshipers. Harsh words followed, then fists flew, and then the guns did the talking. Just another iteration of the same old story repeated all over Nova Babylonia. Then came the reprisals, and counter-reprisals, all while the senior leadership publicly denounced the attacks and ordered restraint.

The Guild officially remained silent. But the sound of railgun fire continued to echo in the night. And bodies of Guild Elect started to appear in the morgue.

A steady stream of steak flowed from the neighborhood steakhouse into the Temple of Galen. If anyone noticed this newfound taste, they didn’t comment.

Friday, September 4, 2020

Babylon Red Chapter 10

 

Alpha

The crackling roar of the railgun flowed through the streets of Babylon, filling the narrow stairwell within electric rumble. Hot on its heels was a wet POP and a heavy SMACK. Karim sprung up, drawing Kayla’s shotgun from under his coat, unfolding and extending the stock.

Galen! I seek your aid! Tear ward and the watcher spirit apart!

A distant wolf howled. Images of fur and fang flashed through his mind’s eye. Heavy crunching and shrieking seared his mind’s ear. A construct detonated in the Aether, the energetic shockwaves rippling through the world, a pressure front he felt in his soul.

He charged up the stairs, constantly angling himself to cover the roof, shotgun pointed just below the horizontal, ready to snap up and kill. Halfway up the stairs, three dark silhouettes presented themselves before him, hands going for waistbands, torsos and legs twisting around.

Where is Jamal Wright?

Thursday, September 3, 2020

Wolves of Babylon Chapter 9

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Silent Scope

Babylon was always in a state of urban renewal. It tore down the old and threw up new edifices to ever-changing modernity. West of Wright’s apartment, a construction site promised a new condominium in two years.

Security was laughable. No human security, no alarms, just cameras with huge gaps in coverage. Karim confirmed there were no watcher spirits around either. Kayla blinded a camera with a bottle of spray paint and strolled right in.

On the fifteenth floor, within what seemed to be a hallway with no terminating walls at either end, Kayla lay atop her groundsheet, itself spread out across a floor of freshly-hardened concrete, and glassed the apartment.

Light spilled from windows and streetlights. Enough light to identify a person in the darkness. The reticle of her scope blazed red against the darkness, a bold horseshoe that drew the eye to a precision dot. Range lines fanned outwards under the dot, designed for a caliber much larger and far, far slower than the railgun’s. At max zoom, 8X, she had the entire apartment in her glass, plus a goodly fraction of the roof. Forward and below the scope, nestled in its little nook, the power indicator blazed green.

She wished she had a spotter. Or a drone. Someone or something to maintain situation awareness, to take the load off so she could focus her attentions on the objective area. But Karim was just five minutes out. She wouldn’t have to wait long.

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

Wolves of Babylon Chapter 8

 

War Council

Symphonies of sirens echoed in the city streets. Police cruisers, flying ambulances, a PSB ESWAT gravtruck. Karim could identify them all by their tones, their pitches, the patterns of their wails. Truly, it was just another night in Babylon, where gods and devils dueled in the dark, and the humans caught in between kept their heads down or held fast against the onslaught.

And the night wasn’t over.

Back in human form, Karim fled to an open-air parking lot far to the south of the shooting, far away that the sirens faded into the distance. He stripped off the false license plates and plastered on new ones, then returned to the driver’s seat. Alone in the darkness, every electronic device on standby, he rested his palms on his knees and closed his eyes and breathed.

 One in a hundred people were Elect. One in a thousand were psi. One in a hundred thousand were psis and Elect. Not for want of trying. Most psis, with their sensitive psyches, could not tolerate the eldritch energies burning through them when the gods fell upon them. The luckiest were destroyed, in mind, body and spirit. The unlucky ones became Husks, empty shadows of men, the puppets and playthings of gods that roamed the world, destroying and consuming everything they saw.

Karim was that one in a hundred thousand. A man so rare the STS had welcomed him with open arms. In truth he hadn’t known he was a psi, not until Galen touched him, changed him, molded him into who he was today. It was his secret weapon, his one advantage over the soldiers of the New Gods.

When his blood cooled and his muscles relaxed, he concentrated. And reached out to Galen.

Lend me your eyes, the eyes that see all, that I may find the Street Wolves.

A deep voice, clear and ringing, echoed in his head.

You shall have them. Go forth and destroy all who threaten us.

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Wolves of Babylon Chapter 7

 

For the Good of All

Karim was many things. Cop. Operator. Protector. Elect. In his short life he had seen so much, done too much. He had saved many people, yes, but he’d also killed more men and monsters than he’d dared to count. He’d upheld the law, but he’d also gutted a government. Of all the things he’d done, there was one thing he wasn’t.

Murderer.

Until now.

Staring out the windshield, dark thoughts bubbled through his head. How the hell had his life gotten to this point? What the hell was he even doing here? Why the hell was he even doing this?

When the STS shut down, it felt like a part of him had died. He’d spent his life working up the ladder, taking on the monsters that threatened Babylon. It was who he was, and Galen’s support made him a better warrior, a better protector. Having reached the top of the tactical food chain, any lesser assignment felt like a demotion, an insult, a hollowing out of who he was.

For the first three months, he wandered the length and breadth of the country, telling himself that he was still underground and on the run. Maybe the truth was, if he’d found a job in another PD, he’d have to start again from the bottom, and he couldn’t stand it.

Karim Mustafa, the man who’d run with Team Black Watch, who had stared down the New Gods and rooted out corruption in the highest levels of government, who had been chosen by Galen himself. After a life like that, how could he go back to writing parking tickets? How could anyone?

Still, reality kicked in. His savings were running low. And by choosing Galen, he had cut himself off from his clan, from the people who still believed in the absent Allah. Finally he’d swallowed his pride and applied for jobs. Was it too little? Too late?

He didn’t know. Only that his choices, one after another, had brought him to this point.

He’d thought Galen was finished with him. For those six months on the road, not once had Galen called out to him. To be fair, neither had he. Not once had he touched his powers or acted in his name. Some nights he’d even allowed himself to believe that he’d retired from being an Elect.

But there was no such thing as retirement. Not for those chosen by the gods.

And the hell of it was, this felt right.