The King is dead, the headlines screamed. A hard, hard day. But, what if the king wasn’t dead? What if the king just got fed up with all of it and called it quits…
The quiet cadence of Aaron’s days was rarely broken by external disruptions. His hermitage in the bayou was, by design, an exercise in profound isolation. Yet, the world, like an persistent tide, would occasionally lap at the shores of his self-imposed exile. These intrusions were not of the dramatic, attention-grabbing variety that had once defined his existence. Instead, they arrived as fleeting whispers, carried on the humid air or snagged by the errant radio waves that sometimes pierced the dense foliage surrounding his cabin. #Mystery #ElvisPresley #Whatif #KU #Kindle #Readers #DellSweet
The newfound resources provided a small measure of comfort, but the shadow of suspicion and mistrust lingered, a constant threat to their already precarious existence. They had survived the attack, but the war within Rapid City had only just begun, a war fought not with guns and blades, but with suspicion, betrayal, and the relentless erosion of trust. #Dystopian #Apocalyptic #Zombie #KU #Audio #Readers #Listeners #DellSweet
The Brass Hand Frank Morgan is headed to a small New York town to find out what has happened to a reporter friend of his. A small thing, in the scheme of things. He is not even sure there is a real need to be concerned… At first anyway… But it seems like there may be much more to his friend’s disappearance that it seemed at first. Murder greets him and the mystery deepens from there. #Mystery #Crime #KU #Readers #DellSweet #Amazon #Thriller
In the ancient past a cro magnon girl child was born and promised in marriage to a distant related tribe. She has come of age, sixteen and will now be escorted across several hundred miles of wilderness to her soon to be mate in the distant tribe.. Hunters and a medicine woman will accompany her. Once there she will begin her new life and face whatever lies ahead for them…
The early morning hours were a symphony of tearful goodbyes. Her father, Torvin, pressed a sharpened flint knife into her hand, his rough touch a silent vow of protection, a final extension of his guardianship. Her mother clung to her, her body trembling, whispering prayers to the spirits of the sky and the earth, her voice a fragile thread against the encroaching dawn. And then there was Anya, her younger sister, who pressed the small, intricately woven charm into Elara’s palm, a tangible symbol of their unbreakable sisterhood, a silent plea for remembrance and for safety. These moments of profound, genuine affection and heart-wrenching sorrow served as a bittersweet counterpoint to the cold, political necessity of her journey. They were stark reminders of the deep, personal cost of the alliance being forged, not through love or shared desire, but through the life of one young woman.
Before the small caravan began its solemn march, Lyra drew Elara aside, her ancient eyes holding a universe of understanding. She presented Elara with a worn leather pouch, its surface softened by years of use. Inside, nestled amongst dried leaves and carefully tied bundles, were an assortment of herbs, each meticulously labeled by scent and touch, a testament to Lyra’s profound knowledge. “Remember, child,” Lyra’s voice rasped, ancient and steady as the mountains themselves, “the greatest strength lies not in the sharpness of the spear, nor the swiftness of the chase, but in the resilience of the spirit. Observe, learn, and always, always trust your instincts. The earth speaks to those who listen, and its wisdom will guide you through the darkest of times.” This final exchange, a precious legacy of wisdom, emphasized the profound importance of inner resources, the enduring power of knowledge passed down through generations of women, a silent promise of guidance even in the face of overwhelming external pressures.
Accompanying Elara on this arduous journey were two of her clan’s most seasoned hunters. Kael, a man whose silence was as vast and deep as the plains they would traverse, his presence a constant, imposing sentinel. And Roric, younger, quicker, with a scar etched across his brow that spoke of past dangers faced and survived. Kael’s role was paramount; he was to be Elara’s primary guide, her unwavering protector, a guardian whose vigilance was said to be unmatched. He rarely spoke, his focus entirely on the intricate tapestry of the terrain, on the unseen threats that lurked in the shadows. His quiet intensity, the unwavering focus in his steely gaze, was a constant reminder of the wildness that lay before them, a stark testament to the seriousness and inherent dangers of the undertaking.
Marva took a slow sip of her drink, her expression unreadable. “Midnight’s risky, Robbie. The place is usually crawling with people that late.” Her voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, a stark reflection of her hardened exterior. Years spent surviving in the unforgiving landscape of the city’s underbelly had honed her survival instincts, turning her into a creature of stark pragmatism. She had seen too much death, too much violence, to afford herself the luxury of fear or sentimentality. #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible #Series
The air hung thick and heavy, a humid blanket clinging to the skin even in the pre-dawn chill. The city, normally a cacophony of distant sirens and rumbling traffic, was unusually quiet, punctuated only by the rhythmic tremor that vibrated through the very foundations of the buildings… #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible #Series
He hadn’t changed much. Still the same lean build, the same unsettlingly calm demeanor that had always made me both wary and fascinated. His eyes, though, held a sharper glint, a honed edge that spoke of survival in a world even harsher than the one behind bars. He was a predator, disguised in the sheep’s clothing of a casual acquaintance, and the way he sat at the bar, radiating an aura of dangerous nonchalance, sent a chill down my spine… #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible
The air hung thick and heavy, a miasma of stale cigarette smoke, cheap weed, and something else… something indefinably rotten. It clung to the peeling wallpaper, to the stained mattress shoved against the wall, to the very fabric of the room itself. This wasn’t just a dilapidated apartment in Harlem; it was a tomb, a suffocating cage built from neglect and despair. Rose-Lee, her eyes sharp and assessing, took it all in, the grime, the shadows, the sense of impending doom that settled like a shroud. Across the room, Alice huddled beneath a threadbare blanket, her eyes wide and fearful, a stark contrast to Rose-Lee’s steely gaze.
Dollar, their captor, paced like a caged animal. His movements were jerky, unpredictable, fueled by the relentless buzz of crack cocaine coursing through his veins. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his eyes darted nervously, reflecting the paranoia that gripped him. He wasn’t just high; he was unraveling, a frayed rope threatening to snap at any moment. The air crackled with his volatile energy, a palpable tension that tightened the already suffocating atmosphere. He muttered to himself, a stream of incoherent ramblings punctuated by the occasional curse, his voice a low growl that vibrated in the confined space.
The apartment was a testament to urban decay. The paint peeled from the walls in ragged strips, revealing layers of grime beneath. The floorboards groaned underfoot, a symphony of creaks and sighs that mirrored the building’s slow, agonizing decline. A single bare bulb hung precariously from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows that danced and writhed across the walls, creating an unsettling, almost hallucinatory effect. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and decay, a constant reminder of the neglect and squalor that had overtaken this once-proud building.
Outside, the city roared, a cacophony of sirens, car horns, and distant shouts. The sounds filtered through the thin walls, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence within. It was a constant, jarring reminder of the world beyond their prison walls, a world they desperately longed to return to. But escape seemed impossible, a distant, unattainable dream. Dollar’s unpredictable moods and the ever-present threat of violence made any attempt at escape fraught with deadly risks.
Rose-Lee’s mind, however, worked tirelessly, a relentless engine churning through possibilities. She was a survivor, honed by the harsh realities of the streets, possessing a cunning intelligence that belied her youthful appearance. She studied Dollar’s every move, looking for weaknesses, for cracks in his fragile composure. She observed the way he clutched his drugs, the tremor in his hands, the wild gleam in his eyes. It was a dance of predator and prey, a silent battle of wills played out in the confines of their crumbling apartment.
The Earth’s Survivors books follow survivors as they awaken to the destruction of the Earth and begin to pick up what is left of their lives… #ApocalypticFiction #Readers #Books #BookLovers #WGSweet #EarthsSurvivors
Los Angeles in the midst of the largest extinction event in thousands of years. Billions worldwide will die. Millions will die in North American. #ApocalypticFiction #Readers #Books #BookLovers #WGSweet #EarthsSurvivors
Earth’s Survivors: Los Angeles Los Angeles in the midst of the largest extinction event in thousands of years. Billions worldwide will die. Millions will die in North American. #ApocalypticFiction #Readers #Books #BookLovers #WGSweet #EarthsSurvivors
