In the epoch before epochs, before the first star ignited or the first whisper of thought coalesced, there existed a state of being so profound, so utterly complete, that it defied definition. The very essence of all that could possibly manifest was present, not as individual threads, but as a unified, unshaped whole, a perfect stillness that contained within it the potential for every conceivable hue, every conceivable sound, every conceivable form, and every conceivable emotion. It was a state of pure, unadulterated being, a state of absolute potential, where the concept of ‘is’ was synonymous with ‘could be.’ #Mystical #Mythology #Epic #Fantasy Audible #Kindle
The nightmare would begin insidiously, with the faintest whisper of a sound, a familiar vibration that would build, slowly at first, then with terrifying speed. It was the hum of the engine, the low thrum of the car carrying them towards an unseen precipice. He would feel the familiar press of the seat beneath him, the faint scent of Ann’s perfume, a scent that would soon be overwhelmed by the acrid stench of burnt rubber and fear. Then, the unmistakable sound, the prelude to chaos: the high-pitched shriek of tires desperately seeking purchase on asphalt, a sound that ripped through the fabric of the night and into the very marrow of his bones. #Horror #SciFi #Epic #Thriller #Drama #Kindle #Audible
The gunfighter’s words hung in the air, a harsh dissonance against the low groans that emanated from just beyond the barricades. Sheriff Brody, his face a mask of bewilderment and burgeoning terror, stared at the gunfighter as if he’d sprouted a second head. #Dystopian #PostApocalyptic #Apocalypse #Survival #Horror #Trilogy #GeoDell
Earth’s Survivors: The Nation Sandy’s Diary – March 26th I should start calling this a diary not a journal. It’s funny, but we started these to leave at the cave but then we brought them with us to keep for the children. Now it’s becoming something more, although still for the children, so they can see who we were or are… or both. I was about to write when I found out we’ll have visitors in the morning. I hadn’t expected it so soon. I wonder if they are people we can make a part of us? I guess we’ll all see tomorrow. I’m excited, but I was already. Susan and I, well we’re together. As in living, as in sleeping together. I cannot believe I took the step. I didn’t know I could. I didn’t really believe there could be someone out there for me. But she made it clear to me how she felt and that she will go with me where ever I want to go. You know, up until right then, all I wanted to do was go and help Bob and Jan start this Nation. I thought that was all I had in my mind. It wasn’t though. If she asked me not to go, I wouldn’t. I’ve never known an emotion that could affect such change inside of me so quickly. I’m not sure I’ve even known this emotion before… not like this. People are coming, and that is exciting. I’m with Susan, and that is life. Do you know what I mean? And that means I’m a lesbian. I guess I knew that. It is important to me to know who I am though. To say it, to own it. In our so called enlightened society it wasn’t universally accepted. Oh, on the surface, sure. But not really. And where is that world now? Gone. I guess it’s just us now. We don’t have time to be so judgmental, or for me, to care if I am judged. I’m happy!!! …
The end has come for most of the world’s population. Small groups of survivors are picking up the pieces… Learning to live again…
When the sun began to peek over the top of the ridge on the opposite shore of the Black River, everyone filed out to the two remaining trucks. It had been decided that Mike and Jan would stay behind while the others went in search of the stolen truck. They switched on and tested two sets of F.M. radios.
Gus Dyer is a hardcore detective in the big city. He knows what crime is, and he has seen the worst of the worst walk her streets and taken those same people down. Some to jail, some to the gates of hell where they belonged in the first place.This time he is on the trail of a hired killer, Jimmy West. West works out of the city. It is his base and fortress, the place where he can roam free among millions of other people unseen, unchallenged and free to continue his crimes.#Detective #Crime #Mystery #Thriller #Suspense #Readers #KU
Gus Dyer The road to Redemption
Gus Dyer is a detective no more. Staring into the deep wells of corruption for too many years sent him into a spiral. He tried to use the bottle to find his way out, but that only dragged him in deeper. The road to Redemption is a look at that fall and how hard that fall was. But Gus is determined to stand on his own two feet again. It remains to be seen whether he will ever become a detective again, but he is finding out that being a detective is not about a badge. It isn’t something you take on with the position either. It is in your blood, and if you have it, you cannot help but follow those impulses that flood through your body with that blood when you know something is wrong. Dead wrong…#Detective #Crime #Mystery #Thriller #Suspense #Readers #KU
John Rourke is a private detective with contacts and a license to practice from New York to Arizona. He has the resources he needs across the country to find the information he needs to crack the toughest cases. Ex-cops, ex-Cons, snitches, stoolies, drug addicts, criminals, drug dealers and any kind of scum of the earth you can imagine or care to name. He knows the seedy side of life and to some people that makes him indispensable…
Book one:
The chipped paint on my beat-up Ford Falcon was flaking like old skin. The smell of stale coffee clung to the interior like a cheap perfume, a constant, bitter reminder of the long hours ahead. Across the street, Paul Fields’ two-story colonial loomed, a picture of suburban perfection, a stark contrast to the cramped discomfort of my temporary office. The relentless hum of traffic on Hemlock Drive was a dull, throbbing ache in my skull, a soundtrack to this tedious ballet of surveillance. My gut churned, not from the coffee, but from the gnawing feeling that I was hemorrhaging money, bleeding my retainer dry on this seemingly pointless stakeout…
Book 2 of 3: Private Investigations: John Rourke Private Detective Stories John Rourke is a private detective with contacts and a license to practice from New York to Arizona. He has the resources he needs across the country to find the information he needs to crack the toughest cases. Ex-cops, ex-Cons, snitches, stoolies, drug addicts, criminals, drug dealers and any kind of scum of the earth you can imagine or care to name. He knows the seedy side of life and to some people that makes him indispensable…
Book two: My apartment, usually a sanctuary of quiet solitude, became a temporary forensic lab. The dining table transformed into a command center, littered with maps, photographs, financial records, and transcripts of intercepted phone calls. The air hung heavy with the scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of cheap takeout containers. Days bled into nights as I painstakingly organized the evidence, meticulously documenting every detail, creating a comprehensive narrative that would stand up to the scrutiny of the legal system… #BookWorm #Readers #KindleUnlimited #WWWatson #Crime #Noir #Mystery #PrivateEye
John Rourke is a private detective with contacts and a license to practice from New York to Arizona. He has the resources he needs across the country to find the information he needs to crack the toughest cases. Ex-cops, ex-Cons, snitches, stoolies, drug addicts, criminals, drug dealers and any kind of scum of the earth you can imagine or care to name. He knows the seedy side of life and to some people that makes him indispensable…
Book three:
The silence was broken by the distant screech of a hawk, its cry sharp and piercing against the vast silence of the desert. It was a lonely sound, a perfect metaphor for the state of my own soul. I was tired, bone-deep tired. Sleep was a luxury I couldn’t afford, nightmares a constant companion. The faces of the victims, the ones I’d found along Rieser’s trail, haunted my dreams. Each one a testament to the brutal efficiency of a man who knew how to erase his tracks… #BookWorm #Readers #KindleUnlimited #WWWatson #Crime #Noir #Mystery #PrivateEye
s #BookWorm #Readers #KindleUnlimited #WWWatson #Crime #Noir #Mystery #PrivateEye
This re-evaluation does not necessitate a rejection of the canonical Gospels, but rather a richer, more contextualized reading of them, informed by the wider spectrum of early Christian literature. It means understanding that the “orthodox” narrative that eventually prevailed was not the only narrative at play in the 1st and 2nd centuries. #religion #Christianity #history #WendellSweet religion, Christianity, history, Wendell Sweet
Theological implications of Mary Magdalene’s role in the Gospel of Mary are profound and have been a source of considerable debate. The Gospel of Mary places a woman at the forefront of spiritual revelation and transmission. #religion #Christianity #history #WendellSweet religion, Christianity, history, Wendell Sweet
The dust swirled around my worn boots, a miniature desert storm kicked up by the frantic thump of my own heart. The air hung thick and heavy, the scent of dry earth and something else… something metallic and sickeningly sweet, clinging to the back of my throat. It was the smell of blood. Old blood. New blood. The kind that stains the soul as deeply as it stains the earth. I’d been clean for six months, six agonizing months of sweat-soaked nights and gnawing cravings, a testament to a willpower I never knew I possessed. Six months of staring at the cracked pavement, avoiding the shadowed corners where my past lurked like a hungry ghost. But tonight, the ghost had found me.
