My hand is cramping, but I am almost finished. The dead are quiet right now. Quiet as in, not scratching, not trying to get in. #Zombie #Horror #Kindle #Amazon
Zero Zero
As the clock ticks down for our planet and her inhabitants, powers that have lain dormant for centuries are loosed on the Earth. #Horror #Kindle #Amazon #Biblical #Christian #Fiction
Star Dancer
Michael Watson is the captain of an inner galaxy cruiser: He Purchased Star Dancer and has spent the last twenty years running people and supplies to outposts within the confines of the Solar System… #SciFi #StarTravel #DellSweet
The Old West is a collection of five western themed stories set in the old west. Come along for an authentic trip through the west, the way it really was.
Jimson Jones, Sarah Johnson, The Cowboy, The Farmers Wife, To Hang a Thief
An excerpt from: Sarah Jones
One starless night, the tranquility of Harmony Creek was irrevocably broken. The rhythmic chirping of crickets was replaced by the terrifying sounds of shattering glass and panicked screams. A nightmare descended upon the peaceful farm. The familiar comfort of home was replaced by a brutal violence, a darkness that would sear itself into Sarah’s memory forever.
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
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
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
Each evening, after the last of his legitimate surveying work was done, Elias would retreat into his sanctuary. The familiar ritual of preparing his tools – the sharpened quills, the precise rulers, the pots of meticulously mixed inks – now held a new, almost clandestine significance. He was no longer merely a cartographer of Veridia; he was becoming a scholar of the impossible, an archivist of the cosmic. He would carefully unroll the celestial chart, its otherworldly luminescence bathing his small workshop in a soft, ethereal glow that seemed to push back the encroaching smog and shadows of the city. The ancient material, unlike any vellum or parchment he had ever handled, felt cool and strangely alive beneath his gloved fingertips. Its texture was a mystery, a finely woven tapestry of unknown fibers that seemed to absorb and re-emit light.His days were now a carefully constructed facade, a performance of the diligent, predictable cartographer. He would deliver his maps of the city’s burgeoning residential sectors, his voice calm and measured as he discussed street grids and canal routes. But his mind was elsewhere, tracing the impossible arcs of alien constellations, deciphering the subtle geometries that hinted at forces beyond Veridia’s understanding. #Fantasy #Mythology #Mystical #Magical #Epic #Amazon #Kindle
In the heart of the vast and shimmering Pacific Ocean, three young ship boys, each no more than a few years past their childhood, found themselves cast away on a breathtakingly beautiful tropical island. This was no ordinary place; it was a lush paradise adorned with vibrant flora and fauna, where the warm sun kissed the golden sands and the gentle waves whispered secrets of the sea. Yet, beneath this idyllic exterior lay the harsh reality of survival in the 17th century, a time when the world was still largely unexplored and filled with both wonder and danger. #HistoricalFiction #SeaAdventure #DellSweet #KU #Kindle #Readers #BookLovers #Paperback
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.
