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.
I wrote this song in 2006. It was the first song that I ever wrote. I wrote it as an acoustic song, this version is same tune/chord structure but more energetic, alternative versus rock ballad. And, how can I know which is better? I can't. I like both versions even though both are very different, even some of the lyrics are different between the versions. This was turning a corner for me. I had written music to lyrics that my brother had written, decades ago, but I had never written my own lyrics and then put them to music. I had done many, many covers in different bands as well, and everything from Black Sabbath to Tom T Hall and everything in between. But I had not found my own voice until I wrote this song...
Verse One: I spend most of my time filling the holes in my head. Sitting in this cell thinking about the life I’ve led. It’s all free food and therapy, but I may as well pay for something I can see… This room has a view but all I really wanna do is talk to you… It’s been so long… How could that be wrong? Everything we had was based on sex money and lies. When you left you took it all… Nothing to keep but alibis…
Hook One: What you took don’t amount to much, but I was never fixed in this world anyway… I was just sitting there waiting on a bus for the next… May as well take my time, I got… Plenty of it… Sometimes it runs late… But I ain’t entertaining offers while I wait.
Verse Two: Listen… I Just want to make this right before I go. Pay my bill or at least knock it down, I don’t know. I wish I could set us free from what we’ve done, but I figured it out, I ain’t the only one… Anyway, I ‘m just learning to walk before I fall again. I’ve been working on change, cleaning up some of this sin, but what’s the good in change… If the world’s still strange. Where’s the sense in being me, if what I was is all you see? Couldn’t stand up kept falling down and that little ball keeps spinning around… All keeps falling apart around me… you say, It will be what it will be…
Hook Two: I could never tell you nothin’ real. It was all about me all of the time. It was easier to hide the way I feel, like you were talking on my dime. I used to believe it was easier to hold it all inside… I never gave you anything… And I know how hard you tried…
Verse Three: Spoken: The snow is falling softly, probably turn to rain later… Sky looks that way… The air has that taste. The wind gusts hard as I step in from the cold… Feels like something familiar, but I haven’t got it placed. I find my way to the small corner table I knew would be there… Cast in shadows, but what are shadows for… And there you are, where you never were, and I find myself wishing I could touch your hand, like I could before… But I know it’s just a dream, I can’t touch you anymore. It’s raining in my mind, I can’t reach you anymore. And if I could I’d write this whole damn thing away… But all I can do is dream… It’s another rainy day…
Verse Four: I spend too much time watching the clock on the wall… You know, sometimes it doesn’t seem to move at all… All keeps stacking up… Cut’s into the emptiness that fills up this cup… And that bus is still running behind and sometimes I get so tired of standing here looking stupid… What the hell was I hoping to find… anyway. Thought about hoping a train… Getting there quicker… But thinking like that only makes me sicker… It’s like my life is stuck in A Minor or something… I don’t know what to do about it, but I know I gotta do something…
Hook Four: But I could never tell you nothin’ real… And I ain’t sayin’ nothin new… It was easier to hide the way I feel… Can you see it the same way too? If we never really had it, what was it you pretended… Was it over long before us or only started once it ended?
The Small town of Glennville New York is a nice quiet place to settle down and raise your family. At least that is What Sheriff Kyle Stevens thought when he retired after being a detective in New York City for twenty years. And Glennville, for the most part was quiet. Respectfull. Safe. Until the day Kyle’s deputy for the body of a young girl out by the old abandoned school building…
Amy and Diedra are best friends, maybe more, something always seems to be in the way every time an opportunity to explore the possibilities arise. Dave Plasko is serving a long sentence at Huntsville state prison, and after that he will be transferred to New York to serve more time. Rebbeca Monet is working her way up the ladder of success in the television reporter game. A hurricane of epic proportions is heading towards Mobile Alabama. The lives of the people involved will never be the same again… #Crime #Drama #Action #Readers #DellSweet #KDP #KU
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.
No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and or distributed without the author’s permission.
Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.
Chapter 1: The Burning House
The acrid smell of burnt wood and something else, something sickeningly sweet and acrid, hung heavy in the air. Sheriff Kyle Stevens squinted against the still-flickering flames, the orange glow painting grotesque shadows on the ravaged remains of Turk Hayley’s house. It was a mess, a chaotic jumble of twisted metal, shattered glass, and charred timbers. The fire had been fierce, consuming everything in its path with brutal efficiency. He’d received the call just after midnight – a raging inferno engulfing a house on the outskirts of Glennville. Now, standing amidst the ashes, the early morning chill did little to counter the gnawing unease that settled deep in his gut.
A fireman, his face smudged with soot, approached Stevens, his voice strained above the crackling embers. “Found a body, Sheriff. Near the back.”
Stevens followed him, his boots crunching on broken glass and pulverized brick. The closer he got, the stronger the sickly sweet smell became – a metallic tang that clung to the back of his throat. They reached a relatively clear patch where a body lay partially obscured by a fallen beam. The remains were badly burned, but even in the dim light, Stevens could tell the victim was a man. The fireman carefully moved the beam, revealing a twisted, charred limb. The sight, brutal and stark, sent a jolt of adrenaline through Stevens. This wasn’t just another house fire.
As the paramedics began their grim work, Stevens surveyed the scene. The fire had started in the back of the house, near the kitchen, the fireman had reported. The pattern of the burn suggested a rapid spread, consistent with accelerant. But the layout of the house suggested a different story. The wind, a fierce gust from the south, should have pushed the fire towards the front, not contained it to the rear. It was a small detail, perhaps insignificant, but it planted a seed of doubt in Stevens’ already troubled mind. Something wasn’t right. The air itself felt heavy, charged with unspoken truths and unanswered questions.
The fire marshal arrived shortly after, a harried man named Miller, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He surveyed the damage with a professional eye, his clipboard a shield against the chaos. After a cursory examination, Miller muttered something about accidental causes, possibly a faulty electrical wire. It was the expected conclusion; a tragic accident, another scar on the otherwise quiet town of Glennville. But Stevens remained unconvinced. The way the fire had spread, the unusual intensity, the lingering smell – these things whispered of a different narrative, a darker tale woven from malice and deception.
The discovery of the body complicated things considerably. Miller, pragmatic and weary, barely registered the finding as anything unusual. “Another casualty of the fire, I suppose,” he’d murmured, his gaze already shifting to his report. But for Stevens, the presence of the body shifted the entire investigation from a simple fire incident to a potential homicide. A nagging suspicion, cold and hard, formed in his gut: this wasn’t an accident.
The body was eventually identified as Arthur Abernathy, a reclusive neighbor who lived a stone’s throw from the Hayleys. A recluse, yes, but a harmless one, according to what little Stevens had managed to gather from the few people who’d ever interacted with him. Abernathy, a frail, elderly man who kept to himself and his small garden, had seemingly become an unintended victim in the inferno. But Stevens couldn’t shake off the feeling that Abernathy’s death wasn’t a random consequence of the fire. The placement of the body, partially shielded yet undeniably exposed, seemed… deliberate. The early stages of the investigation already seemed to be building a case against the randomness of events.
Meanwhile, May Hayley, Turk’s wife, arrived at the scene, a small, fragile woman clad in a flimsy nightgown and bathrobe. Her face was streaked with soot and tears, but a flicker of something else, something that resembled relief rather than grief, momentarily crossed her features. It was a fleeting expression, quickly masked by the performance of overwhelming sorrow. Stevens made a mental note of it. The display of grief didn’t quite ring true. There was a coldness in her eyes, a distance that hinted at a deeper, more complex story beneath the surface. He watched her as the paramedics worked, a silent observer picking up on the nuances of her grief, or lack thereof.
The initial interviews with the neighbors were equally unsettling. They spoke of the Hayleys in hushed tones, their words laced with a mixture of fear and resentment. Turk Hayley, they said, was a volatile man, prone to fits of rage. He was a man known for his loud arguments and unpredictable behavior, a fact confirmed by the numerous reports filed against him for minor infractions over the years. The accounts confirmed a volatile relationship between Turk and May, punctuated by explosive arguments and threats. Christine, their daughter, was rarely mentioned, only ever referenced in passing, described as “troubled” or “rebellious.” The neighbors seemed reluctant to divulge much, their fear palpable in their hushed whispers and darting glances…
Check out the book…
Small Town Murder: A Kyle Stevens Murder Mystery (Glennville Book 12) Kindle Edition
Small town murder
The Small town of Glennville New York is a nice quiet place to settle down and raise your family. At least that is What Sheriff Kyle Stevens thought when he retired after being a detective in New York City for twenty years. And Glennville, for the most part was quiet. Respectfull. Safe. Until the day Kyle’s deputy for the body of a young girl out by the old abandoned school building…
Earth Date 2096-08-25 16:52:58 Star Dancer Michael He got a good look at Petra as he flagged her through the air-locks: #SciFi #Readers #Kindle #Amazon #SpaceOpera #SpaceTravel
Base One (Hay Vida Book 2) Kindle Edition
For the last two days Michael had found himself thinking in a new direction. All the old stuff is gone… #SciFi #Readers #Kindle #Amazon #SpaceOpera #SpaceTravel #SpaceSettlement
The ancient clan in prehistoric Europe, 85,000 years ago, faced a devastating attack that forced them out of their high stone shelter. With many losses, particularly among the young and elderly, they realized the crucial role fire played in their survival. The strongest members of the clan took charge and decided to send out hunters to retrieve fire from a new source, while the rest of the clan remained behind, anxiously awaiting the return of their life-sustaining flame…
The Demise of Fire
The Clan hurriedly escaped through the treacherous night. Overwhelmed by pain and exhaustion, they felt defeated in the face of catastrophe: the Fire had perished. They had diligently tended to the glowing embers within three enclosures ever since the Fire had initially brought the Clan together as a community. The Fire had united them with its comforting warmth and safeguarding presence. Vigilantly, four women and two warriors nourished the flickering flames day and night.
Even during the bleakest moments, they cherished the flame, providing it with whatever it required to sustain itself.
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.
