Chronicles from the Wastelands 01 by Dell Sweet My apartment had been a testament to my former life. Walls adorned with schematics and whiteboards filled with arcane symbols. Bookshelves overflowing with volumes on computer science, algorithms, and…Learn More
Before Candace could speculate, a low, guttural growl echoed from the far end of the depot, followed by the distinct sound of heavy boots crunching on gravel. It was a sound of human origin, but there was an…Learn More
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
4.0 4.0 out of 5 stars 5 #Zombie #Horror #Kindle #Amazon
America the Dead Survivor Stories One contains the first two books of the America The Dead series. Begins The End: 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. Los Angeles: An apocalypse of epic proportions has shaken the Earth to its 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…
“We need to get out of sight,” Candace said, her voice low and urgent. “Now.” They ducked behind a row of overturned buses, the metal cool against their skin. Candace peered through a shattered window, her heart thudding against her ribs. The group consisted of about six individuals, all clad in dark, functional clothing, their faces obscured by masks and goggles. They moved with a predatory grace, their weapons held at the ready. They weren’t simply passing through; they were patrolling, searching. “They’re looking for something,” Candace observed, her mind racing. “Or someone.” The encounter in the alleyway had clearly been no isolated incident. The symbols on the buses, the presence of this armed patrol – it all pointed to a more organized, more deliberate presence in this area. This wasn’t just a random patch of ruined city; it was territory that was being actively claimed and defended. As the patrol drew closer, Candace noticed something peculiar about their gear. While functional, it also bore subtle markings, similar in design to the symbols on the buses, but rendered in a metallic thread that seemed to catch the scant light. It suggested a degree of uniformity, of affiliation, that was unsettling…
Chronicles from the Wastelands 02 Before Candace could speculate, a low, guttural growl echoed from the far end of the depot, followed by the distinct sound of heavy boots crunching on gravel. It was a sound of human origin, but there was an aggression to it, a territoriality that sent a prickle of alarm through Candace. “Someone else,” Elara whispered, her hand tightening on her pipe. Candace nodded, her gaze fixed on the source of the sound. “And they don’t sound friendly.” She could see them now – a group of figures emerging from the gloom, their silhouettes indistinct against the muted light. They were armed, their weapons glinting dully. Their movements were coordinated, purposeful, suggesting a trained unit rather than a disorganized band of scavengers. #Dystopian #Apocalyptic #Epic #Survival #Amazon #Kindle #KU #Horror https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0G8T68GQFhttps://youtu.be/eWor0A3iAY8
Chronicles from the Wastelands 01 The collapse had been a swift, brutal amputation. The surge, a cataclysmic event that had not only silenced our digital world but had also plunged vast swathes of the planet into darkness and disarray. The immediate aftermath had been a blur of panic, of desperate attempts to comprehend the incomprehensible. The abstract threats of cyber warfare or economic collapse had been replaced by the terrifyingly concrete realities of starvation, disease, and the primal struggle for survival. In the early days, the focus had been singular: survive. Find food, find water, find shelter. My technical skills, so vital in the old world, were largely useless. I learned to scavenge, to ration, to move with a stealth born of necessity. I learned the silence of the wilderness, the language of rustling leaves and snapping twigs. But survival, I was discovering, was not an end in itself. It was a means to an end, a precarious foundation upon which something more must be built. It was a recognition that to truly survive, I needed to do more than just exist; I needed to be. #Dystopian #Apocalyptic #Epic #Survival #Amazon #Kindle #KU #Horror https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0G8VDRW4Chttps://youtu.be/xEO0R-NsW9Q
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.
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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…
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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…
The gritty concrete pressed against my cheek, cold and unforgiving. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind my eyes, radiating outwards to claim every muscle, every fiber of my being. My body felt heavy, leaden, as if anchored to the ground by unseen chains. The air hung thick and cloying, a miasma of decay and something else… something feral, something primal. I coughed, the taste of blood metallic on my tongue, a coppery tang that clung to the back of my throat.
My eyes flickered open, focusing slowly on the blurry shapes around me. The first thing I registered was the stench – the overwhelming stench of rot and garbage, a symphony of decay that assaulted my nostrils. #Horror #SciFi #Epic #Thriller #Drama #Kindle #Audible
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
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