SE books from the Earth’s Survivors collections and a short brain fart concerning Microwave ovens…

Classic Posts: Dell Sweet. Posted by Ami Adams

NEWS

This week: It seems like last to this, the week flew by and I had so much to do that I really couldn’t stop to think about it.

Microwave ovens and presets on microwave ovens:

I like microwave ovens. They have made our lives better, I truly believe that. How else can you get a hot cup of coffee from yesterdays leftover coffee in just about 120 seconds? Not that I do that. I mean drink yesterdays left over coffee… Okay… I do.

Here’s the thing though, it’s coffee! That’s my only argument. It should be enough though. I mean it’s like sacred, isn’t it? If I were living in a cave and discovered the coffee bean and bought it to my fellow cave dwellers they would probably build a shrine for me and worship me… Paint pictures of Coffee beans on the cave walls instead of hands, horses and signs for water. History would have been changed! Well, would have been changed had that happened.

So, no. I won’t throw out coffee. I guess that is a shocking admission but it’s true.

Once, I can’t remember the movie, some western, the character threw the dregs of then coffee in his cup on the fire. The other guys around the fire looked at him like he was crazy… Crazy! And, he must have been. I was just a kid at the time and I thought he was crazy! After that the other cowboys ostracized him. And he wasn’t asked along for the next roundup. That’s how serious a thing coffee was for cowboys back in the day. So, I don’t throw away coffee. Which brings me back to microwaves: Don’t you wish your mind worked the way mine does? See how I came right back to where I wanted to be? Okay. I don’t even know how my mind works, I just thank God that it does. So, Microwaves…

I like the idea of a Microwave, but I do have some issues with them. First, you can not make popcorn consistently. In fact, I went to make popcorn the other day and the bag said “Do not use the Popcorn Setting on your Microwave.” Huh. Then why have the setting there? Isn’t that the whole idea? Ease of use? Push one button? Well, we’ll get to that in a minute. The bag went on to give precise microwave instructions: If you have this many “Watts” use this amount of time. This many, that amount of time. I had a headache when I finished reading it. Finally, I put the popcorn back into the cupboard and got some chips instead, and sank into a deep depression over the whole technology thing. How can you eat microwavable popcorn if the button settings are wrong and you have to spend three hours figuring out wattage? You can’t just get out a pan and some butter, tear open the bag and do it that way, can you?

Well, as I sat eating my chips that I didn’t want I thought about that. There are a lot of buttons on a microwave. For instance, there is a beverage button on mine. It doesn’t work for beverages though. It leaves them too cold or too hot. But, what if you accidentally pushed the popcorn button? And, you then found out the popcorn button worked for beverages? Wouldn’t that be great? Well, it does. I tried. But the beverage button will not work for Popcorn. What a mess that was. But, in the end, I did go back out there, rip a popcorn bag open, and put it in a pan with some butter. Guess what? That did work.

As for the coffee on the popcorn setting it did come out pretty good, but I have an aversion to using a button marked Popcorn for Coffee. But, I wonder. If the popcorn companies don’t want you to use it, why do the microwave companies still make a popcorn button? Hmm. And if the beverage button doesn’t work for beverages, what the hell good is it anyway? And, if coffee is the most nuked beverage, why not a Coffee button? And, stay with me here, if the Popcorn button isn’t used anyway, why not re-label it Coffee? Then I wouldn’t have to feel so bad about using the popcorn button for my coffee. Hey, I’m going to get one of those little label makers and make a coffee sticker and put it right over the Popcorn label. That will solve my problems for now. Feel free to just copy the picture above, print it out, and paste it on your own Microwave! No need to say thanks.

That only leaves the power button on mine. But, that is kind of cool. You can press it, set the time amount, and watch the little turntable go around and around….

Have a good week…

Check out The Earth’s Survivors Newest: SE collection books:

By Geo Dell The SE books are two book collections from the Earth’s Survivors series. The Earth’s Survivors books follow survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Police, fire, politicians, military, governments: All gone. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in desperate struggle to survive. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. Los Angeles: Billy and Beth start out with a small group and wind up on their own as they make their way across America trying to find others and safety. Manhattan: Adam leaves the safety of his apartment to find his way out the dying Manhattan, gathering others as he makes his way. Old Towne New York: Conner is alone for the first few weeks, but then he finds Katie and a reason to live again. They set out to survive and find much more than survival. Watertown New York: Mike Collins goes to sleep thinking about his first vacation in many years that he will start in the morning. He awakens to destruction.

Earth’s Survivors Collected Books

Earth’s Survivors SE 1 by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.99 USD. Words: 202,170. Language: English. Published: July 5, 2015 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Fantasy » Epic, Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias Earth’s Survivors SE 1 contains the complete text from the first two Earth’s Survivors books, Apocalypse and Rising From The Ashes. It includes a character bibliography. It follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite hits and sets off a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule.

Earth’s Survivors SE 2 by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.99 USD. Words: 219,100. Language: English. Published: July 5, 2015 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Fantasy » Epic, Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias Earth’s Survivors SE 2 contains the complete text from the Earth’s Survivors books three and four, The Nation and Home in the Valley. It includes a character bibliography. It follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite hits and sets off a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule.

Earth’s Survivors SE 3. The Outrunner Books by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.99 USD. Words: 205,340. Language: English. Published: January 31, 2016 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic, Fiction » Horror » Undead Earth’s Survivors SE 3, The Outrunner Books is all the collected OutRunner books in one place. There were three books written that were then discarded and the storylines were written into the Earth’s Survivors books instead. This Collection follows the OutRunners as they assemble from L.A and N.Y. The only book that tells the full tale of the outrunners…

Earth’s Survivors Se 4: The Story of Candace and Mike by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.49 USD. Words: 192,410. Language: English. Published: April 3, 2017 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Horror » Undead, Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias The Earth’s Survivors SE series follows follow Mike, Candace and a few other survivors as they struggle to stay alive in a vastly changed world. In the early morning hours of March 1st great change came upon the entire planet, touching the small northern New York town where Mike and Candace lived. Earth’s Survivors SE four is the only story that completes the original story of Candace and Mike…

Earth’s Survivors SE 5 by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.49 USD. Words: 284,070. Language: English. Published: May 1, 2017 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Horror » Undead, Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias Earth’s Survivors SE 5 brings together book Six and book seven from the earth’s Survivors series in one volume. From the theft of the virus from a top secret facility to the births of The Nation’s first babies, to the formation of The Fold and how it came to be founded. Watertown begins the tale and World Order ends it after picking up at the end of Watertown. A hard, fast read start to finish…


I hope you enjoyed the preview. You can get a longer preview at any of the links, or buy the books.

Enjoy the rest of the weekend and I’ll be back in a few days,Ami.


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Outrunners

Posted by Geo

I have been absorbed in the world of the Outrunners, when I write that is the way it is for me. I jump in and it is as good as a movie for me; in many ways even better. The craft, or art, of writing is like that for me.

I imagine it is like that for other writers, I know several, but I have never really asked. So, for all I know, it is only me. That sort of brings me to my topic for this week. Writing and writers.

I thought about this the other day. I do not have any non-writer friends. And I realized the other day that I live in a bubble. I don’t purposely live in a bubble, but a bubble is a bubble, purpose built or not.

Some of it is unavoidable, because of the way I am, the rest is how it becomes because of that same thing. My time is my own, there is no one at all to put designs on it, make me feel guilty about how I spend it, and I have lived that way for so long that I am pretty sure I could not be housebroken now.

Not all of my writer friends do that to the same extreme that I do, but nearly all of them do it to at least a lesser degree. To me eighteen hours of writing is no big deal. To me pounding out a novel in fourteen days, also no big deal, but ask me what day it is? That isn’t a joke. I can not tell you how many times one of my friends has said, ‘Hey, it’s Friday,’ and I’ll look at them like they’re speaking Russian. ‘What do you mean Friday? Ha, ha.’ ‘No, it really is Friday, or Tuesday, or the 28th, or whatever.’ Of course I’ll look at a calendar, watch, something, like they would really take the time to lie to me. They’re writers but their imagination isn’t that good is it? Nope. It is me. I fell into this world or that one and the time slipped away. It is that simple.

What is pretty cool, what makes it so addictive, as a writer, is watching something come from nothing at all. No, I do not know where it comes from. I can not force it to come if it isn’t there. I have rarely been able to write exactly what I choose to write either, but when it shows up and it is right there at the tips of your fingers, pouring out onto the page, and you are reading it, getting to know it intimately as it is also being born, it is amazing: When that happens you don’t want to stop. You are afraid that if you do the words will go someplace else: To someone else, and they will write your story, only it will no longer be your story, it will be their story. So you hang in there, type, let the magic pour out of your fingers, and then someone says, ‘Uh, you do know it’s Friday, right?’

That is writing for me. And there are times when it has to stop, when sleep has to take over. And in the old days I would come back from that break for sleep, slouch back to my chair, stare at my monitor and think: Well, that’s that, my head is empty; the story is gone, shouldn’t have gone to sleep. Two seconds later the words are pouring out. The story is back from where ever it went to and I am along for the ride again. So when my other writer friends ask me about how I wrote this or that I really have no answer. In fact, usually I’ll look at them like, well, where do you get your stuff? Walmart Writers Aisle? Or I’ll get the writer I don’t understand who will give me the song and dance about how he or she plotted this out, and then did this and then pulled teeth to write it, and then… I have no idea what he or she means. The process is not that way for me at all and I have tried it, writing on demand, the same way they do it, and I turn out stuff that seems like cardboard.

That is not to say I can not write something off the cuff. I can, but it works this way: Someone says, ‘Hey, could you write me a story about a three legged dog that stops to sniff at a dead cat on the interstate during rush hour traffic, gets run over by a semi-truck and comes back as a vampire dog that sleeps in the woods, flags down semi-trucks on the highway and kills the drivers as retribution?’ … ‘Uh, no… Sorry. And, if you can find someone who can, well, you should hire them.’ But I will go back and think… Hmm a three legged dog… Dead cat… What the hell happened with that cat anyway? And why didn’t the semi-truck driver stop?… Hmm… Maybe he didn’t stop because he was distracted by the truck stop cutie he had picked up… Right, and the cat… The cat had been on the way to its kittens which were across the highway… Hidden in the woods… And I’ll work it out in my head like that. So then I’ll set down and the story just shows up. It ends up being about the truck driver and his drug addicted daughter, and it turns out the cat and the dog were simple distractions. Huh, I’ll think as I write it, I’ll be damned. Then, just at the end, the damn cat comes back, abetted by her three legged dog friend, and kills the trucker, and I’ll think ‘Son of a bitch, Never saw that coming.’

Let me give you an example: In one of the Earth’s Survivors books, Molly and Nellie, major characters, are along on a resupply trip, and Nellie gets shot and killed.

I am shocked as I write it. I stop writing and think, ‘Wow, that sucks.’ I wonder about undoing it. In the old days I would have highlighted the whole scene and then deleted it. Kill a major character? No way. So I would then spent hours, days, weeks, re-writing it. And all to no avail because after that period I’ll see it had to happen that way because that was the story. Now, I may stop, look, but then I’m back at it. I am curious to know where it is going now. What will Molly do? Well, if you read it you know; Molly could not deal with it. She turned her own gun on herself before anyone could react fast enough to stop her. Another shock to me, but that is writing to me. That is the gift God gave to me, and the way it comes out of me.

I suppose people will read that and think, bull. But it really is the process for me. And for all the writers I know too, at least the ones I hang out with. And hang out is a loose term for me. I don’t hang out with anyone at all, not really. Hanging out to me is giving up that time I was talking about earlier, and I don’t like to give that up. So hanging out might be a 3:00 AM FB conversation. No, no camera, just chat. If the conversation lasts more than ten minutes before it lags, then something is really wrong, and that is not just me talking.

The other person has some sort of project open on their desktop, same as I do, and they are either writing as we talk or thinking about writing as we talk, or actively wishing I would shut up or get to the point, so they can go back to writing. I know that because after the ten minute mark that is what I am doing, and the few times I have asked a writer friend honestly what they are doing they say those things, or, they are not as diplomatic as I am and just tell me to get the point or shut up. No, that doesn’t offend me.

That is the craft of writing to me with all the mystery and magic stripped off. I guess it is about as attractive as that dead cat in the road, huh? I wonder how that cat got there…

What else. We are working on next years books, or at least trying to look into the crystal ball and see what might be there. I believe that Dell will finish Hurricane, and that will clear the table into fall and leave us working on separate projects for spring 2016.


Apple Books SE-3 The Outrunners: https://books.apple.com/us/book/earths-survivors-se-3-the-outrunner-books/id1081677032


Free Book this weekend:

Earth’s Survivors: Apocalypse.

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/515457

U.K. Link: Kindle, Amazon Digital: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Earths-Survivors-Apocalypse-George-Dell-ebook/dp/B00YDAXFLE

U.S. Link: Kindle, Amazon Digital: http://www.amazon.com/Earths-Survivors-Apocalypse-George-Dell-ebook/dp/B00YDAXFLE

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/earths-survivors-apocalypse-dell-sweet/1121153067?ean=9781507793053

I-Tunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/earths-survivors-apocalypse/id963866999?mt=11

That’s it for me, I hope you have a good week, and I will see you next Friday, Geo…

America the Dead from Dell Sweet

 

By Dell SweetLindsey Rivers with Ami Adams

Individual stories from the apocalypse of the dead… The end of society as we know it is here. No more cities… No more police… Gangs control everything… The dead are rising…

Earth’s Survivors America The Dead


When a catastrophic natural disaster looms on the near horizon, the government releases an airborne virus designed to make the human race better able to survive. Those that do survive are picking up the pieces of their world, and those that have died lay in their death sleep, but in their bodies the virus works on, mutating, setting the stage for a second catastrophe far worse that the first.


Earth’s Survivors America The Dead: Los Angeles by Dell Sweet

Series: Earth’s Survivors America The Dead. Price: $2.99 $1.20 USD. (60% off!) Words: 57,350. Language: English. Published: September 12, 2014 by W.G. Sweet. Categories: Fiction » Horror » UndeadFiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic

An apocalypse of epic proportions has shaken the Earth to it’s core. In the bigger cities the dead are growing quickly in numbers. Growing intelligent as they continue to change and mutate. They have one thought in their rotting brains, take over the world, and destroy those that live in the process. Billy Jingo leaves Los Angeles hoping there might be something better on the other coast…


Earth’s Survivors America The Dead: Manhattan by Dell Sweet

Series: Earth’s Survivors America The Dead. Price: $2.99 $1.20 USD. (60% off!) Words: 58,520. Language: English. Published: February 16, 2016 by W.G. Sweet. Categories: Fiction » Science fiction » ApocalypticFiction » Fantasy » Epic

Donita’s Notebook March 1st (Night) Quakes, at least three. Warmed up fast, and all the dirty snow that was piled along the streets has melted. Torrential rains. Thunder and lightening in the snow storm that came after sunset. Didn’t last long; turned back to rain. Parts of the projects are burning. Jersey is burning. The sky is red-orange, everything across the river is on fire. No one has come.


Earth’s Survivors America The Dead: War At Home 1 by Dell Sweet

Series: Earth’s Survivors America The Dead. Price: $2.99 $1.20 USD. (60% off!) Words: 78,790. Language: English. Published: February 16, 2016 by W.G. Sweet. Categories: Fiction » Horror » UndeadFiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic

Gabe Kohlson moved away from the monitors. “Heart rate is dropping, don’t you think…” He stopped as the monitor began to chime softly. “Dammit,” Kohlson said as he finished his turn. “What is it,” David Johns wheeled his chair across the short space of the control room. “Flat lined,” Kohlson said as he pushed a button on the wall to confirm what the doctors already knew. Clayton Hunter was dead.


Earth’s Survivors America The Dead: War At Home 2 by Dell Sweet

Series: Earth’s Survivors America The Dead. Price: $2.99 $1.20 USD. (60% off!) Words: 69,670. Language: English. Published: February 25, 2016 by W.G. Sweet. Categories: Fiction » Science fiction » ApocalypticFiction » Horror » Undead

Donita: The hunger was terrible, all consuming, and it came in crashing waves. The impulse to feed seemed to be the only coherent thought she had. It was hard to think around, hard to think past. It was all she could do not to rush from the trees, find the smell that tempted her and consume it. Eat it completely. Leave nothing at all…


Earth’s Survivors America The Dead: Zombie Fall by Dell Sweet

Series: Earth’s Survivors America The Dead. Price: $2.99 $1.20 USD. (60% off!) Words: 86,490. Language: English. Published: March 22, 2016 by W.G. Sweet. Categories: Fiction » Horror » UndeadFiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic

Arlene’s Journal It’s the night before the six will leave to go back to the outside. I think of it that way… The outside. This place overwhelmed me for the first little while. That and having to kill a man. But it was worse for those who stayed behind when we made our way to this place. If they had not stayed to fight the rest of us would not have been able to get away…


Earth’s Survivors America The Dead: The Zombie Plagues by Dell Sweet

Series: Earth’s Survivors America The Dead. Price: $2.99 $1.20 USD. (60% off!) Words: 83,720. Language: English. Published: March 22, 2016 by W.G. Sweet. Categories: Fiction » Horror » UndeadFiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic

Donita walked down Eighth Avenue towards Columbus Circle. Behind her a silent army followed, numbering in the thousands. From the circle they would take the park. There were thousands of the living camped out in the park. She could smell them on the air that flowed past her face as she walked. They had believed they were safe in their numbers, and for a time that had been true, but no more…


Dell Sweet @ APPLENOOKKOBOG-PLAY

Unused Diary Entries: Earth’s Survivors-12

Candace ~ March 2nd

This is not a diary. I have never kept a diary. They say, never say never, but I doubt I will. I have never been this scared. The whole world is messed up. Is it ending? I don’t know, but it seems like it’s ending here. Earthquakes, explosions. I’ve seen no Police, Fire or emergency people all day. It’s nearly night. I think that’s a bad sign. I have the Nine Millimeter that used to be my Father’s. I’ve got extra ammo too. I’m staying inside.

Candace ~ March 3rd

I lost this yesterday; my little notebook. I left it by the window so I could see to write, but I swear it wasn’t there when I went to get it; then I found it again later on by the window right where I left it. Maybe I’m losing it.

There are no Police, no Firemen, phones, electric. The real world is falling apart. Two days and nothing that I thought I knew is still here. Do you see? The whole world has changed.

I got my guitar out and played it today. I played for almost three hours. I played my stuff. I played some blues. Usually blues will bring me out of blues, but it didn’t work. It sounded so loud, so out of place, so… I don’t know. I just stopped and put it away.

Candace ~ March 4th

I’m going out. I have to see, if I don’t come back. Well… What good is writing this?

Candace ~ March 5th

The whole city has fallen apart. I spent most of yesterday trying to see how bad this is. I finally realized it’s bad beyond my being able to fix it. It’s bad as in there is no authority. It’s bad as in there is no Jimmy V. I hear gunshots at night, all night. And screams. There are still tremors. If I had to guess, I would say it’s the end of the civilized world, unless things are better somewhere else. I have to believe that. Power, structure, it’s all gone. I mean it’s really all gone. This city is torn up. There are huge areas that are ruined. Gulleys, ravines, missing streets, damaged bridges. The damage costs have to be in the billions… And that’s just here. There’s me and my little notebook I’m writing in, and my nine millimeter. I’ve got nothing else for company right now.

I’ve got water, some peanuts and crackers. How long can this go on? What then?

Candace ~ March 6th

I’ve decided to leave. I can’t stay here. There was a tremor last night, and not one of the really bad ones, but even so I was sure the house would come down on me. It didn’t. Maybe though, that is a sign, I told myself. And scared or not, I have to go. I have to. I can’t stay here. Maybe tomorrow.

Candace ~ March 7th

The streets are a mess. I’ve spent too much of the last week hiding inside my apartment. Most of my friends, and that’s a joke, I didn’t have anyone I could actually call a friend; So I guess I would say most of my acquaintances believed my grandparents were alive and that I lived here with them. They weren’t. I didn’t. I kind of let that belief grow, fostered it, I guess.

I planted the seed by saying it was my Nana Pans’ apartment. You can see the Asian in me, so it made sense to them that she was my Nana. But I look more like I’m a Native American than African American and Japanese. It’s just the way the blood mixed, as my father used to say. But Native American or Asian, they could see it in my face. And this neighborhood is predominantly Asian. Mostly older people. There were two older Asian women that lived in the building. They probably believed one of those women was my Nana, and I didn’t correct them.

I can’t tell you why I did that. I guess I wanted that separation. I didn’t want them, anyone, to get to know me well. My plan had been to dance, earn enough money for school – Criminal Justice – and go back to Syracuse. Pretend none of this part of my life had ever happened. Some plan. It seemed workable. I wondered over what Jimmy V. had said to me. Did he see something in me that I didn’t, or was he just generalizing? It doesn’t matter now I suppose.

My Grandmother passed away two years ago. The apartment she had lived in was just a part of the building that she owned. Nana Pan, my mother’s mother, had rented the rest of the building out. The man who had lived with her was not my Grandfather – he had died before I was born – but her brother who had come ten years before from Japan. They spoke little English. People outside of the neighborhood often thought they were man and wife. She didn’t bother correcting them, my mother had told me. Nana Pan thought that most Americans were superficial and really didn’t care, so what was the use in explaining anything to them? Maybe that’s where I got my deceptiveness from.

I had left the house as it was. Collected rents through an agency. For all anyone knew, I was just another tenant. Of course Jimmy V. had known. He had mentioned it to me. But Jimmy knew everything there was to know about everyone. That was part of his business. It probably kept him alive.

So I stayed and waited. I believed someone would show up and tell me what to do. But no one did. I saw a few people wander by yesterday, probably looking for other people, but I stayed inside. I don’t know why, what all my reasons were. A lot of fear, I think.

There have been earthquakes. The house is damaged. I went outside today and really looked at it. It is off the foundation and leaning. I should have gotten out of it the other night when I knew it was bad. It’s just dumb luck it hasn’t fallen in on me and killed me.

It doesn’t matter now though. I met a few others today, and I’m leaving with them. I don’t know if I’ll stay with them. I really don’t know what to expect from life anymore.

I’m taking this and my gun with me. Writing this made me feel alive. I don’t know how better to say it.

I’ll write more here I think. I just don’t know when, or where I’ll be.


☆☆☆☆☆ ☆☆☆☆☆ 5 out of 5 stars. · 5 years ago  

More PLEASE!!!!

I just finished this last night and I REALLY want to know what happens next!!!! Like all books I read, I have grown fond of the characters and feel an attachment to them! I want to know what happens with the battle and if they all eventually meet up to create a town of their own! I need to know what happens with Billy and the girls!!!! A lot of characters to follow along with, but I still enjoy it!!! Please Mr. Sweet, don’t stop the series!!!


☆☆☆☆☆ ☆☆☆☆☆ 5 out of 5 stars.

Like it too.

This book grabbed me by the throat on day 1 and barely let me breathe until the last page. Stunning characters and a story line that never took a break for the full duration. My only disappointment is that it ended at all. by Claude Hebert on September 19, 2018


Serenity… HALL OF FAME TOP 10 REVIEWER 4.0 out of 5 stars

Earthquakes/Explosions Reviewed in the United States on May 3, 2013 Verified Purchase

Days get really lengthy after the earth’s devastation. Some days are nearly 43 hours from sunrise to sunrise. Clouds are black and gray ash is present.

Yes, there are survivors and in this book, we meet some of them that gather together in Watertown, NY.

Mike, age 23, becomes the leader of this group who lives in a cave.

I liked the diversity of this group – mixed race, to Native American Indian to Asian and African American.

A few skirmishes (actually battles) break out with nearby groups and some of these are deadly.

A decision is made to leave the safety of their cave – heading for unknown parts.

An interesting read so far and am looking forward to the second book.

Highly recommended…


Earth’s Survivors: Rising from the ashes.

SmashwordsAmazonAppleNook


White Trash. A fast paced crime thriller you won’t forget

WHITE TRASH

By Dell Sweet

Copyright © 2018 by Dell Sweet

PUBLISHED BY: Dell Sweet; all rights reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

This novel is Copyright © 2018 Dell Sweet. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the authors permission. All rights are retained by the Author.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.

Cover art Copyright © 2018 Dell Sweet

WHITE TRASH

Copyright 2018 Dell Sweet, all rights Reserved


The Cops

Don managed to get the bedside phone on the third ring. By then it had awakened Jenny too.

“Goddamn cops,” Jennie muttered as she buried her head back under the blankets.

“Yeah?” Don managed.

“Sammy,” Sammy told him. “You have got to get down here, we’re out of here, like, 3 hours ago… You there, Donny?” Sammy asked.

Don set up in bed which caused Jennie to complain even more. “What the fuck are you talking about, Sammy. Say it slower. My brain has no caffeine yet.” He rubbed his face with one of his large hands.

“We’re going to Alabama… Mobile. Several tips put the Suburban on I-65 yesterday, just outside of Mobile: Nothing after that. The chief thinks they went to ground, and there are rumors of a big deal that’s going to happen there with an associate of the late Richard Dean. We don’t have names yet, but they’re working on it. The guy is a big drug dealer in that area. We’re going down on a flight out of Syracuse in 2 hours. We’re going to meet with the locals, it’s their ballgame, but the chief wants us to be there when the whole thing goes down. Sort of like the New York liaison,” Sammy said.

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Don said. He reached for the night stand and got a cigarette. He lit it and then tossed the heavy silver Zippo back onto the table with a metallic clunk. Jenny raised her head.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Fuck,” Don said.

“Fuck ain’t the half of it,” Sammy agreed. “You’re awake now?  I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, we have to hurry,” Sammy finished. He clicked off before Don answered.

Don slammed the phone down. “The chief, Mr. Political aspirations himself, has decided in all of his wisdom to send us to Mobile-Fucking-Alabama of all places, because some tips came in that placed the GMC on I-65 yesterday and nothing since then,” Don said as he worked his way out of bed and headed toward the shower.

He called from the shower. “Brilliant, over-react now to cover his ass for not reacting when he should have… Jen, could you get me out a suit of clothes?” He called as he turned on the shower. He kicked off his boxers and stepped under the spray which was still slightly cold, forgetting about the cigarette in his mouth. He caught the soggy mess in one hand and tossed it toward the toilet. It landed on the lid with a wet plop.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “That’s why the lid should be up.”

~

Jimmy stared at the TV. The weatherman was on now talking about the fall weather and the start of the hurricane season.

He had been out once to dispose of Ronnie Lee. It was a large shop, but a body couldn’t hang around too long without air conditioning and this place had none.

He had found a state park next to a swamp, they called them bogues here, according to the sign, but they were still swamps. He had tossed the body in. There were alligators all over down here. The body wouldn’t last long. He hadn’t wanted to wait that long to do it, but he had been afraid to leave: As the night wore on though he became convinced that they were not coming by. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe what he would do wasn’t necessarily what a couple of green kids would do.

He wondered about the other kid. The paper boy, but he had no idea who he was or where he’d come from. And if he was honest with himself he didn’t care either. The kid was one of those anomalies: A fly in the ointment; a nothing, at least to him.

It bothered him that the cops had such a lock on the two vehicles. Every red neck with eyes would be calling every time they saw a Suburban of any kind. It would be a bad couple of days for anyone who owned a white suburban.

He wondered about Neo. He was positive that Neo was dead. Or he had been. If he was honest now there was more than a little doubt in his mind. It could have been anyone in that car. Neo could be smart enough to be behind this whole thing. He could be pulling the kids strings: Both of them. And if that was the case he himself would have to be very careful. Getting shot in the back of the head in a car chase was one thing. Facing Ben Neo in a one on one situation was not something he wanted to do. His phone rang. His own cell phone and he knew who it was before he answered it.

“Jimmy,” Tommy’s voice rasped. “I got a fuckin’ cold so bear with me… And now I’m getting a fuckin’ headache. I’m hearing Ben Neo might still be alive. My own, turned against me… You heard that shit, Jimmy?” Tommy asked.

“I just heard it,” Jimmy acknowledged.

“You think these cops are jerking our chains? You hear they’re talking organized crime ties? This is getting out of control, Jimmy. Out of control… I need the truth, Jimmy. If it is Neo, can you handle him? … Can you handle him? I need to know that, Jimmy. If this fucker has turned on me… Like… Like some fuckin’ dog that don’t know his master… Like that, Jimmy, I need to know that you can fix that, Jimmy… A thing like that has got to be fixed, and I need you to tell me that you can fix it,” Tommy said.

“I’ll get him,” Jimmy said. “I’ll be honest, Neo is no joke, but you know I’m not one either. I’ll get him,” Jimmy said.

“Or else?” Tommy asked.

“Or else he’ll have to fuckin’ kill me… I know my job. You know where my loyalties lay, Tommy. He’ll have to kill me, but he won’t. He won’t because he has nothing on me at all. I know him. I know how he operates: His methods. He’s a dead man, Tommy. He just don’t know it yet. When I get him, believe me, he’ll wish he did die in that car with the top of his head blown off,” Jimmy said.

“I don’t ever doubt you, Jimmy. I don’t. Get this done for me. Make it all work out and I’ll take care of you. You know that,” Tommy said.

“I know that,” Jimmy said.

“You need something, you call these people. They’re right there. They’ll help,” Tommy said. He rattled off two local phone numbers.

“Okay,” Jimmy said. He clicked off, tore off the square of paper with the two numbers on it from the pad. Folded it, and slipped it into his pocket. He wandered over to a long display of acoustic guitars, took one down and strummed the open strings. He had never learned. He couldn’t figure out how anyone could learn. It was killer on your fingers. He hung the guitar back up, walked back to the stool where he had been sitting and sat back down. There was nothing he could do, but wait.


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America the Dead: The Zombie Plagues

The old Chevy idled roughly at the curb across from the Grocery King market. “Murder…” He waited until Murder gave him his full attention. “I want you to go in… See what’s what… https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Dell_Sweet_EARTH_S_SURVIVORS_AMERICA_THE_DEAD_THE?id=E__KDwAAQBAJ