Horizon (Relaunched) Chapter Reveal

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Chapter 1

May 26, 2113

Sydney, Australia

Harbor

Engines roared beneath the surface of the water as fishermen departed to the Pacific blue. One boat remained though at the far end of the wharf. The Chanda II bumped against the wharf as it lifted and fell against the wakes of the water.

The captain of the boat, Aaron Lambright, wrestled underneath the sheets. He groaned shielding his blue eyes from the Sun’s light. Aaron threw the sheets off of him with annoyance and rose from the bed. His shaggy brown hair matted against the side of his head in a jumbled mess, while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached for his alarm clock.

“7:30 am….” He yawned as he stretched his arms above his head feeling his bones crack from his knuckles to the middle of his spine. Aaron twisted the face of the alarm towards him again and slapped his palm against his forehead. “Damn, Abi’s going to kill me.”

He slung his legs over the edge of the bed and walked to the porthole. All of the other boats already set out for sea for the day. He walked away from the window and stumbled on an obstacle of beer cans underneath his dirty clothes. The odor of fish and sweat reeked in the cabin. He opened the bathroom door and leaned his head against the doorframe to balance him, while his hangover pounded at his temples. A bottle of Captain Morgan: Spiced Rum smiled at him from the countertop like a satanic jackal eager to tear into his liver.

“You really tore me up last night,” he said, tilting the bottle to his face. The amber liquid rolled up the side of the glass away from the label. “Mm….” He turned the label away from him as his throat gurgled with vomit. He clenched the toilet pressing his forehead against the wooden lid. His back arched as he puked profusely into the toilet.

He grabbed the edge of the counter pulling him back to the mirror. His bloodshot eyes were swollen and watery at the rims of his eyelids. Sweat beaded across face and trickled off of his soaked brown beard. He flung the medicine cabinet closed and pulled down the small white bottle of Advil.

“Thank God man made you,” he said, tossing two maroon tablets into his mouth. He reached for the bottle of rum and washed them down his throat. “Woo!” he cringed while shaking his head. “That’s rough.”

He set the liquor bottle back on the counter and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his dry face. His cellular phone rattled on the end table in his room, but he shut the door to ignore the call.

“I am currently too inebriated to take your call. Please leave me the hell alone,” he said, flipping over the knob in the shower to hot.

*       *      *

Aaron sat on the side of his bed after his shower with a white towel wrapped around his waist. He cupped his palms and relaxed his head in them pressing his elbows against his knees. He reached for his phone on the end table and saw the name Abigail scroll down his missed calls list six times.

“Nah, I’m not ready to call her back yet.” He tossed the phone to the foot of the bed and laid down.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

He shot back up and tensed his posture when he heard the heels outside on the aft. He ran to the cabin door and locked it.

“I know you’re down there, Aaron!” Abigail yelled from the top of the stairs. He heard her stomp down the stairs clapping her heels on the wood like a horse’s hooves. The door rattled and she wrapped her fist against the wood with rage. “Open this door! Where the hell were you last night?”

“Shit!” he mouthed in silence. The towel fell from his waist as he ran to the dresser to find a pair of red swim trunks and white tank top. He quickly slipped the clothes on and dug into his top drawer, where he tossed balled up white and black socks onto the floor. “Just wait at the top of the stairs, Abi! I’ll be out in a minute!”

“Wait? Wait! You want me to wait? That’s just perfect. Two years, Aaron, and you still tell me to wait on your sorry ass! If you respected me, you would at least give me a courteous phone call telling me you weren’t going to show up last night.”

Aaron shook his head and pulled the black box from inside the sock drawer. The suede texture was soft against his fingertips as he flipped it open to find his mother’s wedding ring nestled in the crease of the fabric inside.

“Please save me,” he said, snapping the lid shut. He turned his head to the porthole, where Abigail’s face was peering into the cabin. “What the-?” Aaron gasped, falling back to the floor.

“I see you, Aaron! Open the door now and face me like a man!”

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the top of the stairs,” he said annoyed. He shook his head and walked over to the door, when he face disappeared from the window. He jammed the black box into his pocket and opened the door to meet her on the aft.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Abigail had her hands clenched to her hips like a boiling tea kettle. He watched her tap her toe with a menacingly constant beat. Her narrow jade eyes and tensed cheeks intimidated him.

“Abi, I can explain,” he said with his arms raised and palms out in front of him.

“Where is she?” She glared at him with contempt.

“What are you talking about?” Aaron walked to her with a sly grin. “How can you even think that? I mean… I’m appalled!” He stumbled with his words as he walked to her, but she pushed passed him and marched down the stairs. He chased after her but could not help but admire her black work attire that hugged against her curves tastefully. He slid down the rail of the stairs and entered the cabin behind her. “Now, Abi, you know this isn’t healthy. A strong relationship is built on trust. Accusing me of….

Abigail whirled around with her arm outstretched stopping Aaron from flapping his lips. “Don’t talk to me about healthy relationships, Aaron. I’m not in the mood for you back peddling so that the tramp you were with last night can escape.”

“Oh really? A tramp? Do you really think I’d open the door for you if another woman were here?”

She marched to the bathroom and slammed the door open. She came out with the half consumed bottle of rum. Captain Morgan’s grin sickened Aaron as he rolled his eyes and ripped it from her hands.

“So this is what you were doing last night?”

She stepped on an aluminum can and heard it crunch beneath her heel. She fell forward into Aaron’s arms. He smelled the fragrance of her melon shampoo enter his nostrils. His free hand grazed the curve of her hip which flooded fantasies of sex with her in his bed. She pushed him back and peeled the dirty clothes from the floor to discover a smashed beer can on the floor.

“I swear, I only had a few last night. The rest of those were from other nights,” he lied. He slicked back his hair with irritation. Glancing towards the bed, another surprise made his heart sink into his belly. A pair of red laced panties poked out from underneath his pillow.

“I thought you were over this stage of your life. You even went to rehab.” She dropped her arms letting the can bounce across the floor. “What did you tell me? Two years since your last drop?”

Aaron shrugged without a word from his mouth.

“I’m tired of all the excuses, Aaron.” She whipped her hair back and wandered to the porthole where the sun was peeking through. “You told me when we met that you wanted to stop. You wanted to build a better future for us. Now you’re starting again?”

Aaron rolled over the bed, while she looked away, and shoved the panties in the crevice between the headboard and mattress.

“You said that you wanted me to be sober. You even tricked me into thinking I was the reason you wanted to change.” She turned to Aaron with widened and moist eyes. “Has it all been a lie?”

“You’re making this out to be more than it is, baby,” he answered, reaching for her hands. She rejected him quickly pulling her hands away.

“Never call me baby again. I am no one’s baby.” She trembled with rage. “You can keep drinking if that’s what brings you closure, but I can’t be a part of this anymore. It’s not worth the pain anymore.”

“I’m overloaded with work, Abi. I don’t know what to tell you!”

“Ha! Overloaded with work? You sit in a damn boat all day and watch fish. If that makes you turn to drinking, you really have no control at all.” She rolled her eyes and walked passed him.

Aaron stood in the cabin alone, circling his room with guilt. “Wait, don’t go!” he yelled, chasing after her. He gently grabbed her wrist at the top of the stairs.

“Leave me alone!” She whipped her hand back and ran across the aft to escape Aaron’s attempts to mend what is already broken.

“Abigail Marie Thomas, will you marry me?” His hands trembled as he pulled the black box from his swim trunks. He flipped back the lid and the diamond sparkled in the sunlight.

Abigail lowered her head and glanced over her shoulder at Aaron. She hesitantly walked back to him.

“Are you serious?”

The diamond left her breathless as he slid it onto her ring finger. It was a perfect fit. A tear streamed down her cheek and dropped from her chin. She twisted her hand mesmerized by the beauty of the rock. She pulled it off of her finger though and placed it back into the box.

“I can’t say yes this way, Aaron.”

Aaron heard a woman’s hum echo from the wharf as they stood their alone. Abigail looked over to the ramp and saw a young woman with curled blond hair hop onto the boat. Aaron glanced at the woman’s white bikini top pressing against her breasts and her ripped jean shorts which came down mid-thigh. He closed his eyes knowing he lost Abigail.

“Oh, I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, startled to see Abigail glaring at her.

Abigail shook her head and pushed the woman out of her way. Aaron dropped his arms and walked to the rail to watch Abigail storm up the wharf back to the parking lot. He crossed his arms over the rail and tucked his head down, pressing his forehead against the chipped wood.

“What was that about?” the woman asked.

He lifted his head up and stared at the black box. He shoved it into his pocket and looked at his assistant.

“It’s fine, Sandy, you probably just saved me from a lifetime of frustration.” He walked to the stairs to his cabin. “C’mon, let’s get out to sea. We have a long day ahead of us.”

He entered his cabin, where he pulled open the sock drawer and shoved the box back in. The bottle of rum rolled into the heel of his foot as a wave lifted the boat. He picked up the bottle, returning it to the counter in the bathroom. His palms pressed against the sink as he watched the disappointment pull from his eyes. Captain Morgan remained joyful with his charming smile like a serpent tempting him to have a sip. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and stared into the mirror.

“Fuck it,” he said, tilting the lip of the bottle against his mouth. The liquor burned as it flowed down his esophagus. He wiped his lips with his naked arm, but the heartbreak faded as the drunken spell grasped him once again.

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Horizon Sample Chapter Reveal

Later tonight I will be posting a sample chapter from my novel Horizon. I’d like to thank the people who have already purchased the book and those who are interested but are still on the fence. I know I’m a new author in this large world of creation, but I hope all of you will enjoy the world in my head.

Horizon- Paperback, Hardback, and Digital

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Since I have a few more followers this month, I wanted to post my book for anyone who may be interested:

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/williamlloydjr

This is where you can purchase the hardback and paperback.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MD4U3YE

Here’s the link for the digital format on the Kindle.

 

Here’s a brief description of Horizon in case you are interested in reading:

Our world is in danger of extinction due to the multiple world wars that have progressed the last century. The government aggressively strikes a new specimen into the general population, which was discovered on a world called Mariknia. This new specimen has created a catastrophic event that could lead to an apocalyptic end to our home, Earth.

Aaron Lambright is the son of a navy hero, an alcoholic, and a struggling citizen of Australia that can’t hold a stable job or relationship. In this chaotic end to earth, Aaron will be our only hope for survival.

A Chapter from My New Novel Eversoul

June 22, 2109

Mariknia

Marshlands

     The fiery whip slaps across the back of the Arocñian man, Norwalk. His reptilian hide is covered in the deep gashes that ooze crimson blood. The rain patters on his skin as each droplet burns into the wounds. His black claws dig into the mud as he uses what little strength he has left in his arms. He reaches for the ivory spiked club that is buried into the ground while another painful lashing tears through his forearm. Norwalk lands into the puddle as mud splashes his back. He looks up with bruised and swollen eyes. The veins bulge within his muscles as he unleashes a heinous growl revealing his massive incisors. He feels the ground shake beneath his body, while the trees crack from the strength of his roar.

     “Muridia!” he exclaims, looking up at the eyes of a corrupt queen. “If you kill me, Armond will have your head!”

     He looks into her dim violet eyes as she cackles a wicked laugh. Her royal blue armor tightly clasps to her body with the family’s insignia, a swirling vortex, carved into the steel chest plate. She taps the handle of her sheathed sword. The golden crown that is nestled within her brunette hair turns to black as a skull appears within the emerald. Ivory rises from her crown like daggers as she morphs into the creature that all Mariknians cower away from. The X’lu.

     “Damn, Arocñian, do you think turning your back on me was the best choice to make?” she laughs as she swings the whip behind her head and across the back of Norwalk as a chunk of flesh slings in the air.

     Norwalk falls flat in the mud again in a bloody heap of meat. He looks up at Muridia and grinds his teeth.

     “He will come…” he exhales as he lies his head on the ground.

     “Are you referring to your precious, Armond?” She kneels to the ground, leaning close to his head as her pitchforked tongue slithers from within her black lips. “You’ll be dead before your chief gets here.” Her tongue slides across the scaly skin and wraps around Norwalk’s neck.

     He grimaces from the slimy and leathery textured tongue. His eyes close as his strength perspires. Blood stains his teeth and lips as he breathes in deeply.

     “I will not succumb to your lies, Muridia,” he says weakly. “My family cannot live in the shadow of your kingdom.”

     “Think of your family, Norwalk. Your children and wife. How would they react to your death? I mean, children without a father never turn out well,” she says, grabbing the handle of the club. “I can only hope you will reconsider my offer.” She pulls it out of the ground and rests it on her shoulder.

     “I will not betray my people, or my family. I would rather be tied to four clausterous, and my body be torn limb by limb than follow under you.” He presses his knuckles into the ground and rises to his knees, looking Muridia straight into her eyes. “Armond will come, and when he discovers these crimes you have committed, he will ask for the worst punishment a Mariknian can receive.”

          Muridia laughs and rears back to whip Norwalk. This time her lashing is fierce and brutal as the leather digs deep into the shoulder of the Arocñian. He whales into the air as he rises from the ground. The little strength he has left erupts within his muscles as anger floods his mind. Norwalk pushes her to the ground and clenches her ankle as he slings her into the tree behind him. He hears her scream as the armor loosens on her chest. His swollen eyes burn as rage drowns him, and he can no longer resist the urge to kill. He charges at her and rams her through the trunk of three trees. Her crown cracks as lightning streaks across the sky. His fists pound relentlessly against her face as her grasps his neck tightly with his thick fingers. He slams her against another tree as the bark flies in every direction. She slaps his forearm, begging for air through her blocked throat.

     “Please… Please… I can’t… breath!” she begs in airy whispers.

     Norwalk squeezes tighter, feeling Muridia’s life slowly drift away as her slaps weaken. “This is for the good of Mariknia.”

     “Release her, brother!” The bellow of an elder erupts as Norwalk remains blinded by his anger. “RELEASE HER, NOW!” The elder roars as the wind grows heavy and the ground rattles beneath their feet.

     Norwalk loosens his grip and drops the queen. He looks over his shoulder to find Armond standing tall with his cane. A green orb resonates on the handle of the cane as Armond glares at Norwalk. He walks away from Muridia to return to his chief. His footfalls shake the ground as he kneels before his chief. He looks up at him with his swollen eyes and torn hide.

     “I’m sorry, Armond. I lost my senses,” Norwalk says, returning to his feet.

     “I understand your anger, but we must not succumb to the ways of their kind. If we kill, consequences will come upon our village. You must remember that,” he says, rubbing his white beard. “Muridia,” he says. “Are you okay, or have you had enough of this barbaric nonsense!”

     A chill runs down Norwalk’s spine as he hears Armond’s bellow.

     “What a surprise. I was starting to wonder if you were going to let me kill him,” she chuckles as she rises from the mud. Her hair tangled in bark and face swollen.

     “We are no longer at war with you. Why are you still causing trouble for my people? Are you not satisfied that there is no war?”

     “Sometimes I do it out of boredom…” she says, wiping away the blood from her lip. “Today I just felt the need to kill another one of you pathetic bottom dwellers.”

     “I’m sorry you feel that way, Muridia, but you know that Helioseté and I have a treaty now,” he says. “I would suggest you leave now, Muridia and put today behind you before this gets out of hand.”

     “Oh no, Armond, things are just getting started,” Muridia says as glowing eyes appear around them in the storm. The low hums of the X’lu resonate as her army approaches Armond and Norwalk. “I knew you couldn’t let one of your own precious people die. Norwalk was just the bait I needed to get you out of your territory, Armond.”

     Norwalk looks over his shoulder as the creatures appear at every corner of the marshlands. The water rushes up to their ankles as the marsh is disturbed by the X’lu.

     “The X’lu,” Armond says with a nod. “I never thought a queen of your stature would resort to deals with the devil.” Armond turns towards Norwalk and pats him on the shoulder. “You ready?”

     Norwalk looks up at his chief and feels the ground quake beneath their feet. His looks up at Armond with a grin.

     “Muridia, I am going to warn you one last time. Pull back your army and let us walk. The consequences will be dire, if you choose to continue this senseless fight,” Armond says calmly, pressing his cane into the mud.

     “You’re surrounded, Armond. There is nowhere to go, and as far as I’m concerned, today will be a new era for Mariknia…” she says, clenching her whip firmly in her palms. She rears it back behind her, but the ground loosens beneath her feet. She lands on her stomach as the mud bows upwards. The top crumbles as an Arocñian pulls itself from the mud.

     Its hair is cut in the shape of a Mohawk as it shakes its head fiercely. The muscles bulge from chest to calves and it slams its fists against the tree trunk aggressively. More Arocñians appear around the perimeter as Muridia crawls on her back towards a tree. Her eyes wide as the tribe surrounds her.

     Her army of X’lu infected soldiers appears from the water with multiple appendages flailing behind them. Their teeth are razor sharp and eyes are beady like insects. The hunger in their eyes boils as they continue to approach the perimeter.

     Norwalk looks around him waiting for the first attack to start the fight. He stands beside Armond watching the Arocñians appear in every corner of the gradually flooding island in the marsh. He looks at Muridia who has a wicked smile etched across her elegant face.

     “Let’s not keep my interest from fading, Armond. I think both sides are even now,” she says in her evil chuckle.

     “We do not send the first blow. If this fight is meant to happen, only you will start this,” Armond says, looking each Arocñian in the eye. “As I said before, it would be wise for you to walk away from this fight and return to your home.”

     “I do not surrender to bottom feeders!” Muridia exclaims as she unsheathes her sword.  She turns around and jabs the sword into the belly of the Arocñian with the Mohawk. Her eyes are enflamed in purple. She looks back at Armond and rips the sword from the Arocñian’s belly. “I guess sacrificing one is the only way to get any kind of reaction out of you.”

     Armond grips his cane firmly as the orb glows a bright lime green. He looks back at his tribe and belts out a roar so monstrous, his own people are startled. He charges Muridia with his cane armed in both hands.

     Norwalk grabs one of Muridia’s creatures. He holds both torso and legs in each hand and pulls hard, feeling the snapping of bone, cartilage, and arteries in his hands. The creature’s entrails hang from its torso as Norwalk flings the legs into the swap and the rest of the body into the trees. Its arms sporadically flail as it hangs from one of the branches and blood drips over Norwalk’s head. He pounds the trees with his fists and belts out a roar like Armond.

     The tribe attacks all of the creatures with relentless force as body parts are tossed everywhere. The decapitated heads roll all over the ground like marbles. Norwalk crushes one of the heads beneath his bare feet as he looks over his shoulder at Armond fighting cane and sword with Muridia.

     Norwalk rips his club from the mud and swings the massive weapon in the flesh of multiple enemies as they are tossed into the swamp. Red stains the tips of the ivory as Norwalk growls and huffs at the next clan of creatures. His eyes are enflamed as he rewinds the torture from Muridia and flattens the creatures into the ground with his club. The broken bones and bursting organs sprain into the air as the liquid sprays across Norwalk’s face. He glances back at the tribe and Armond, seeing the fight is close to finished when Armond corners Muridia against a tree trunk.

     Armond rips his sword from his sheath and presses it firmly against the jugular of the queen. Blood drips from the sword from the cut on Muridia’s neck. Enjoyment and hatred burn inside her eyes as her menacing grin brings chills down Norwalk’s spine. Both leader’s eyes lock onto each other. Norwalk breathes heavily from the tiresome fight.

     “I see you have me cornered, Armond,” Muridia says with blood staining between the whites of her teeth. “I underestimated your strength.”

     “I should leave your head to rot in this swamp, Muridia. It would do the rest of Mariknia good without your damned presence,” Armond says. “Your flesh is so tainted even the scavengers would resent its smell.”

     “It’s as simple as one thrust, Armond. It’ll finish this once and for all, but we both know you can’t kill me.” Muridia looks up at him twisting her head left and right.

     “Who says I won’t!” Armond’s roar bellows in the air, scaring the birds from their nests in the trees.

     “My death will not bring a stop to this war, Armond. It’ll only feed what evil is brewing in the air. I cannot die that is what you do not realize! I am not like you… I am a…” She is interrupted by an unsettling quake in the sky. The clouds crash and roll overhead as lightening branches across the sky. An explosive boom erupts around them as the pebbles tremor across the ground.

     “I was wondering when you might make your presence, Helioseté!” Armond exclaims, pulling the blade from Muridia’s throat. An explosion of rock and mud flies into the air from a lightning strike as Armond’s tribe hides their eyes.

     Norwalk hides his eyes from the lightning strike. He pulls his hand away from his eyes to see a tall and hulky man stand before them all. His black hair unravels down his back as his beard waves in the wind. The storm grows fiercer but the man before him is not bothered by the wind. His ice blue eyes glare at Muridia and Armond as he points his scepter towards his wife. He steps towards Muridia with his arm extended out with the scepter pointed at his wife.

     Helioseté narrows his eyes as he presses the end of his scepter to his chest. His cheeks are red and eyes are blood shot with anger. He grabs Muridia by the armor and tosses her aside in the wake of his destruction. He turns his head towards Armond and looks at the tribe with eyes of death and torture.

     “Take you brothers and sisters home, Armond. I will not tolerate this act of treachery,” he says with a shaky and calm voice.

     Armond looks up at Helioseté with a raised eyebrow. He looks around him at the rest of his tribe. He nods and tilts his head towards the marsh. Norwalk looks up with defiance and steps forward.

     “Brother, you can’t let her live!” he exclaims, slamming his club into the ground.

     “Norwalk, I urge you to leave now with your leader!” Helioseté exclaims.

     “I don’t take orders from…” Norwalk says, charging towards the king, but Armond stops him in his tracks.

     “Norwalk, stop. We cannot keep fighting. We need to live at peace,” Armond says, placing his hand on Norwalk’s shoulder. “I know it is hard, but sometimes walking away is the best answer for these kinds of disputes.”

     “Not when you’ve been tortured and mangled by a corrupt queen!” he exclaims, slapping Armond’s hand off his shoulder. He charges forward at Muridia when a sharp pain shoots down his forehead to his spine. He falls to his knees as his muscles seem to twist and bend inside his body.

     “I understand, Norwalk, but right now, we must return to our village. Leave them be. We cannot engage another war with them,” he says, holding his cane in the air as though controlling Norwalk’s muscles with telepathy. “Will you stop this aggression if I release you?”

     Norwalk groans and fights the pains, but he eventually surrenders to his leader. “Fine,” he huffs, kneeling on the ground as the pain wears off.

     “Good,” Armond answers as he looks up at Helioseté. “I would hope you would control her better. Especially with the X’lu corrupting her mind.”

     “I’m well aware of the situation, Armond,” Helioseté answers, looking back at his wife. “We will leave you in peace, and I assure you our truce will not be broken again.” He looks down at his wife with anger. “Get up.”

     She looks up with fright in her eyes as she reaches for his hand.

     Armond nods and returns to the swamps with the rest of his tribe as Helioseté stands alone with Muridia. A lightning strike flashes around them. Norwalk looks back to discover Muridia and the king have both disappeared. He looks up at Armond, gritting his teeth angrily as the wounds on his back sting from the lashings. His eyes boil.

     “You know this will not be the last of her, right?” he says from the back of the tribe. “She will come back. Next time it will be more of them, possibly something else!”

     “We will be ready when that time comes, brother,” Armond answers.

     “How do you know? This time it’s a two dozen. Next time it could be thousands!” Norwalk scratches his head. “I just don’t understand why we have to follow the order. The longer we hide and keep their blood off our hands, the more of our own with die.”

     “Norwalk, I understand.”

     “No, I don’t think you understand, Armond!”

     The tribe halts and everyone stares at Norwalk. Armond turns around and looks up at Norwalk with saddened eyes. He pats Norwalk’s shoulder and looks up at the angry eyes.

     “I know you are angry, Norwalk, but your head is unclear. You are blinded by hatred and that will only grow as you continue to let it fester,” he says, looking at the tribe. “Anger does not resolve problems, it only makes things worse. If you think killing her would be beneficial to our tribe, then I encourage you to do it yourself, Norwalk.” He looks away and leads the tribe again. “I will not be burdened with someone else’s blood on my hands. One senseless death could be the cause of our extinction, and I only hope that you all will heed my warning when I say, going after her will lead us to ruin.”

     Norwalk shakes his head and closes his eyes.

     “War never solved anything. It only caused more harm than good to those neutral,” Armond says as he continues his journey back to the village with the rest of the tribe, and Norwalk trailing behind.

 If you still haven’t checked out Horizon, check out the kindle link in the menu above! Hope you guys enjoy!

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Horizon: Aaron Lambright

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I’ve had a few people ask me about my characters in my novel from their roots to becoming a character to reasons they do the things they do. I’m going to start this all off with my protagonist Aaron Lambright.

Aaron Lambright is a twenty-four year old male. He is about 5’10 and has brown hair. He has a brother named Landon, who is his twin. Aaron is your in the norm kind of guy. He is a marine biologist who has suffered some troubling times in his past. He originally discovered a ship artifact nestling deep within the crevices of the ocean floor in the Arctic Ocean. He had to be funded by the Captain Glenn, who is a multimillionaire that makes his money off the ideas and knowledge of other sailors and scientists. I’ll be getting into more detail with him later.

Aaron was originally born in Cordova, Alaska, where he played music and hardly could survive off the tips he was making at local bars. He left home because his father, Weston Lambright was forcing him to join the Navy. (His father is a Navy Captain). He ran away from Cordova and took a plane to Australia, where he built a whole new life away from his home. He lives in the boat he collected as payment from Captain Glenn and resides there in the harbor of Sydney, Australia. Over the years since the discovery of the artifact, he has lived his days as a drunken sailor, who occasionally drifts off the The Great Barrier Reef with his assistant, Sandy. 

He discovered when he was nineteen that his mother was suffering from cancer and within months she had passed away. All of the lost time and vague memories brought Aaron to a point of inner destruction to lead him to where he is today. His father wants nothing to do with him because of his refusal to join the military. He is struggling with his relationship with Abigail and after a few events, emotions get rocky between the two. This leads to Aaron tilting his bottle of run more heavily and blacking out more often than not. 

 

The reason I wrote Aaron Lambright, in my own lost drunkenness years ago, was because I wanted to build a relationship with a character that was based off me in the past and in the future. His ship the Chanda II was a symbolic relationship between my ex-girlfriend at the time and how terrible I wanted to make things work, but she was so crazy I couldn’t make sense of anything she thought. I made the ship so dirty because my relationship felt dirty with her. It was almost like I was sucked into this black hole and couldn’t find a way out. Abigail saved him from his growing demise but their relationship has been a struggle. This relationship is based mostly off of some past relationships, but occasionally I’ll add bits of positive things that have happened presently in my own relationship.

I hope you guys enjoyed the insight on one of my characters. I’ll post more characters bios later. 

 

The Impact of People

Guess who is finally awake?! Me! 

I had to close at work last night. It was pretty busy. A lot of people coming in to buy the last of the buy one, get one free mixed fruit. I will say, I don’t know if anyone except the people who actually have to cut this stuff up really know how much work is involved in making these bowls. Here’s the recipe: 1/4 of cantaloupe, 1/4 of watermelon, 1/4 of honeydew, 2 pineapple chunks, three red/ white seedless grapes, 2 strawberry slices. This is just for the small mixed fruit. Medium, large, and extra large bowls are double, triple, and quadruple those ingredients. So now that we have the ingredients, we have to forecast these suckers on a sheet of paper. We ended up having to cut almost 100-200 of these bowls a day, excluding the large and x-large. Those were only 8-10 bowls. It can be a rough job, but I think that cutting fruit is the most relaxing part of it. I usually enjoy doing this only because it’s relaxing to just chop away all day.

Anyways, last night I watched the result show to America’s Got Talent with Nadine and I’m extremely happy with a few of the results. They say that everyone has a talent, which in theory is true, but my talent, I would like to think is writing. I can play music too, but it has been so long since I’ve been on a stage or even picked up a guitar, I don’t know if I still have the skill set.

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I miss those days. It feels like it was only yesterday I was choking on the smoke in the front row, while I was trying to sing. I also miss my lead guitarist who is currently in Korean. He has always been my best friend since we ran into each other in high school, became music buddies, and now, he will be my best man at my wedding( whenever that may be.) Luke is an awesome guy with a lot of talent, who is serving in the Army, and it’s an honor to know someone like him.

cover

I’d like to say this is the cover of my book. It’s already out. You can find it on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Lulu.com’s websites. I haven’t talked much about it because I’m not wanting to use this blog as an advertising tool. I just know I’ve had a few people emailing me about this “Book” I have lingering in the digital world.

I know I don’t talk much about Nadine, but I have to say she is an amazing woman. She keeps my spirits up when I’m down. She supports me in whatever venture I want to take in my life. We’ve been together for four wonderful years, yes we have had those few fights, but we always pull out of it. There hasn’t been a day, where I couldn’t see myself not being with her. I remember meeting her in a pizza parlor when I was performing in a band. I didn’t want to go out that night because I was just going through some stupid crap in my head. My buddy Luke convinced me though. I headed out to the pizza place with my drummer, Garrett, at the time (We’ll get to him in another post.) I arrived there and saw Nadine sitting with her aunt and her cousin. (I knew her aunt and cousin so I was texting them throughout the whole night.)

Honestly, it’s tough to say exactly what was going through my head at that moment, I just knew that I wanted to know this girl. I wanted to be able to hold her hand, or at least have a nice conversation with her. I remember it took a while for me to get the courage to talk to her. I was a bit of a shy guy. I actually thought she was more into Garrett because they were talking a decent amount. I think I told her about that and she said “Um no, he is way too young.” Anyways, I performed that night, I met Nadine, and asked her out on a date. 

There’s many things that happen in life that you don’t understand why. Sometimes it could be the death of a family member, or simply running into a new best friend that has had a huge impact on your life. I’ve also come to realize that for some reason we live in a very small world, where everyone seems to connect on different levels. If I hadn’t of met Luke and Nadine, I don’t know where I would be at right now. 

I met Luke in high school, we created a band, he knew Nadine’s aunt and cousin, I met Nadine, and somehow this has been the longest lasting relationship I have ever had. Is there a higher being that pulls everyone together for a reason, or is our life written spontaneously as we live it? I don’t know which is true, but I like to think that my life is being written by me, not by someone else. I don’t want to shoot down anyone’s theories, but we make up our own future, our own dreams, and our own destiny. That is the beauty of being alive, the old and the new.

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Starting Out as a Self-Published Author

 I know a lot of my friends and family in my life have probably heard me ramble on social media or on the phone about this new venture I am trying to build. This line of work is the hardest and most cruel profession that I have come to realize in the last few months of publishing my first novel, Horizon. I have had many fantastic reviews and the occassionally bad ones. I remember back in March my first edition had a ton of typos and errors concerning the barcodes and copyrights. I mean, hell, I didn’t know what I was doing at the time. Now, I’ve honed in on everything and I’m trying to build a substantial audience. 

     I will say there have been multiple people that have helped me open up many new doors to get my novel out there. Once, Eversoul hits the market, I hope those same people will be there to raise my spirits through the gruelling and exciting moments of producing my next novel. It’s funny when you watch authors beg for reviews, and I will openly say I am one of those authors that beg, but if it doesn’t happen, I at least get a phone call, or word from the grape vine about how much someone’s daughter loved my novel, or someone’s mother. Everything circles back around, and if you are looking to write and plan on making millions, even thousands on your first novel, don’t hold your breath. 

     I love writing. Yes, my weakness is procrastination, but somehow I find a way to stick my butt to a chair and stare at the computer screen for hours on end. I’ve had people ask me, “Do you list your book for free, and do discounts cause you’re going through a rough patch?” My answer: No, it’s not for that reason. I see my book as a pilot for somethingAMAZING!!! When I sit and write, scrambling through all of the excitement, it drives me crazy not to be able to share these ideas to my growing audience. I know, I give away a lot of surprises by sharing chapters and hinting at upcoming events in the next novel but that’s only because I’m excited about my baby. My wonder bread. My life for the last five years. I don’t think there is one day, where I haven’t thought about characters, names, and settings as I driving to work, or simply walking through the park. Many of my friends, co-workers, and family don’t know they have atleast one character that relates to them in my stories.

     Right now, patience is the only thing that keeps me going everyday. The struggle is real sometimes when it comes to bills and having a life, but honestly, I spent most of my life rotting in a job that was killing me deep inside. It pushed me at times to the point, where I didn’t think I could survive in this world. My dad told me recently that you have to work hard to hold on to the things that mean the most to you. It was mostly because I have a fiance and my parents really want to have grandkids, and they want the best for my fiance and me. I sat there and thought about it real hard, and he is right, I have to push, push, push until I bleed to have a better life for my future family. 

     If you don’t love writing, and your just in it to hopefully make that huge deal and make those fat checks. You are going to fail. There is no doubt in my mind that a lot of writers out there have that mind set. They write a book, don’t proof read, and publish it with typos. It deters from what readers want. I know reading is something that seems like it’s slowly fading away with social media, and video games these days, but it’s still there. I know it’s still there. I still have multiple friends who trade books like it’s religion. I know people who hardly read, and after they read my book they’ve said, “Wow, I can’t wait for your next novel, Will.” Not saying I don’t have the occassional, “I had a hard time following it, but it came together well.” But isn’t that what a writer wants, people to learn their style of writing and come to a light bulb that makes them hate or like what you’re doing?

     It’s a wonderful feeling to sit there and watch all of those kindle downloads build up in your sales report, even the free ones. Then, you see all the paperback and hardbacks being sold as well. It’s not even about what kind of revenue I’m making, it’s that fact that there’s atleast one person out there that has an interest to read my book! That to me is success. I couldn’t be more grateful for those people that give me those feelings. Also, I can’t forget my cheerleading squad that consists of my mom, my dad, Corey Wallace, Leanne, Daniel, Nadine, my family, Stevi Clack(Photographer), Luke and Alyse Griffin/their parents, Nadine’s family. I mean, I could rave on with all the names that have been a huge impact on my growing career in writing. Four years in the making and a backing of people that strive to see my novel succeed. I love you guys. I even love the people I didn’t name that at the moment I’m trying to think of that have helped me. If I forgot you, just leave a comment. You can call me an idiot or bad mouth me, it’s okay cause I think you’re awesome just to make it to this point in my note.

     I will say I do have a lot of orders I am having trouble with sending out at times and I’m sorry to all of you that haven’t received a book yet. I’m still learning how to be an entrepreneur as well. It’s alot of work and time to create, market, and achieve a devoted fan base. 

     Anyways, I know this note is long, and I need to get back to work on Eversoul, but I wanted to say that your word of mouth does matter. I thank all of you for being a part of this with me, and I may do more notes throughout this venture. Also, all of the negative feedback I’ve received. I appreciate your tough love. It makes me want to give you something more in my future novels and win you over. Everyone have a good night, and if you ever want to talk, don’t hesitate, I’m still high off of the launch of Horizon and still want to hear from you guys! 

Sample Chapter from Horizon

SAULTER

May 29, 2113

Los Angeles, California

Berringer and Son Law Firm

Saulter enters the law firm with his two CIA operatives, Foster Lancaster and Miguel Perez, close behind him. His stiff posture and masculine march brings everyone in the firm to a sudden silence as though waiting for one of their own to be sentenced to death. He pulls his badge from his pocket and reveals it with a swift snap of his wrist to the receptionist. The woman behind the desk cowers in her seat as she watches him return it to his belt. Saulter reaches for the desk tag and reads the name. A devilish smile appears on his cracked lips.

“Mrs. Rose,” he says underneath the raspy and barbaric undertones of his voice.

“Miss,” she replies.

“Really, now? For an attractive red head like you, I would’ve expected you to have a significant other waiting for you at home.”

“No,” she shivers. “Recently widowed.” She squints at his tag. “General Saulter Williams. Oh my, is there something wrong?”

Saulter removes his green hat. “Every day, Rose, something is always wrong. That is why I am always getting the tough assignments. It’s because I am the kind of man that gets the job done.” He smiles. “And you may ask, at what cost? And I will answer in a heartbeat—at any cost to keep the lives of this nation safe.” He leans back from the desk and returns the hat to his head. “Now, you can make my job easier by pointing me in the direction to a Mr. Nathan Berringer’s office.”

“I would, sir, but he is in the middle of a—”

“Tell him it would be in his best interest to speak with me at once. I am a very busy man, and I am extremely impatient.”

“I understand, sir, but he did give me very specific instructions not to interrupt him today,” she says, looking up at Saulter with her hazel eyes.

“Cute,” he answers, looking up towards the hallway behind her. “I’ll invite myself in then. On behalf of the President of the United States, I am authorized to go into that office.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded document. “Here is a warrant.” He tosses the papers on the desk and marches towards the door that has N. Berringer written across the glass.

“But wait, I can’t let you go…” Rose trails behind the men, still begging them to stop.

Saulter pushes the door open with both men close behind him. He discovers Nathan Berringer flipping through a mess of files on his desk. The stout man wrinkles his forehead as the three men enter without warning.

“Rose, I told you I can’t be distracted today!” Nathan exclaims as his glasses slide to the end of his nose.

“I tried…” she answers as Saulter slams the door behind him, locking it. Both of his men flank either side of the desk.

“Gentlemen, you can’t just barge into my office without an appointment. I’m a very busy man,” Nathan says in heavy breaths.

“No need for an appointment, Mr. Berringer. I have a warrant that comes straight from the Commander-in-Chief. So, in my professional advice, I would suggest you sit your ass down and listen up,” Saulter says, slamming his fists on the desk.

“I will not tolerate—“

“Oh, you will tolerate anything and everything I throw at you, Mr. Berringer.” Saulter turns to the bookshelves, taking notice of all the pictures of the lawyer’s family. “Not to mention the impeccable danger your family will be in if you don’t cooperate with us.”

“My family?” Nathan’s eyes widen in shock. “What do they have to do with any of this?”

“Nothing at all. It’s just in my nature to use people’s prized possessions as bargaining chips,” Saulter grins. “Let’s just see how much information I can squeeze out of you before I explain what my men will do to your wife and children if I don’t get the answers I want, okay?”

Nathan sits back in his chair and looks up at all three men. Saulter pulls out his badge and rests it on the desk. He sits across from Nathan in an empty chair. He stares at the lawyer’s frizzled brown head of hair and dirt cheap suit. The prime example of a compulsive liar and cheat in American society. He watches Nathan reach for the badge and bring it close to his face.

“Director of the CIA, huh?” Nathan chuckles. “Had nothing better to do today, I presume.”

“Nathan, you have something the president wants immediately, and he is going to get it whether you want him to or not,” Saulter answers, snapping his fingers to Foster.

Foster pulls out a manila envelope from his black jacket and hands it to the general. Saulter flips through the contents and pulls out a letter addressed to Nathan that reads: From the desk of the Commander-in-Chief of the United States.

“I just wanted to make this more formal. President Rashaad has requested that the inheritance and/or inheritances of Captain Weston Lambright be confiscated and not recorded to the decease’s immediate family members,” Saulter says, watching Nathan skim through the letter.

“As much as I would love to cooperate with this request, I cannot, General,” Nathan replies, setting the letter back onto the desk.

“And why can’t you do this simple task?”

Nathan looks down at Saulter’s badge again. “General, due to the moral code of ethics and attorney-client confidentiality clauses, I can’t release that information. In addition, my client specifically instructed me not to release anything to the government, only to his sons.”

“But there are no legal issues that you are obligated to. You would risk the lives of your family and yourself for this man?” Saulter taps his fingers on his lap. His light-hearted spirits turn to a ruthless darkness within seconds as his eyes narrow like a hungry predator.

“I think it would be best if you and your two pets leave now,” Nathan says, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, you have some large balls, Nathan, but, unfortunately, mine outweigh your ignorance.” Saulter cracks his neck and looks at both of the stone cold faces of Miguel and Foster. He leans closer to the desk. “You know, I’ve dealt with many persistent lawyers who have, like you, used the constitution and law to keep the government’s hands off of important documents. Although I commend you for your bravery to stand up to us, I also recommend you beg for mercy from my pets? Isn’t that what you called them?”

Saulter stands to his feet, looking outside the blinds of the window and slowly shutting them. Thin lines of sunlight stripe the walls of the small office.

“My pets were instructed not to do anything too drastic to you, considering you have delicate information, but I am afraid they have not learned the meaning of obedience just yet.”

Foster walks behind Nathan’s chair. He clenches the brown hairs between his fingers and spastically bashes Nathan’s head onto the glass cover on the desk. Foster pulls Nathan’s head back to the headrest of the chair. Blood seeps into the crevices of the cracked glass. Nathan tastes iron on his lips and feels blood drip from his chin. His eyes are beet red and deep gashes line his forehead.

“Are you ready to hand over those documents?” Saulter shrugs and leans close to Nathan’s face. “You can make this easy for me, or messy for you. Honestly, it’s really your choice.”

“Don’t you have his records in your damn database? What more could you need from the inheritance he left for his boys, you sick son-of-a-bitch?” he cries. “You’re the fucking government for god’s sake!”

“Do you not realize technology has created firewalls to keep the government’s hands off of certain individual’s files? Weston has figured out a way to slip through the cracks of our system and now we are at the verge of world destruction as we speak!” Saulter growls, while tossing files and papers off the desk. “Stop feeding me bullshit, Nathan, and give us what we want!”

Nathan keeps his mouth sealed tight. Saulter’s anger overwhelms him as his brain feels as though it could split at any moment. He nods at Miguel and walks away from the desk.

“Fine. I guess we’ll be here for a while then,” he says, reaching for the file on the floor. “Hmm… Becky Berringer. You have a file for your wife?” Saulter flips through the contents. He hears Miguel reeling back his fist and thrusting it into Nathan’s ribcage. He looks back to see Nathan heaving from the blow to his stomach. “Who keeps a file of their own wife, Foster? Isn’t a picture enough to satisfy a husband?” Foster laughs in the corner as Saulter tosses the file behind his head.

“You… can’t… do this. It’s against the law,” Nathan coughs.

“That is where you are very wrong, my friend. We actually can do whatever we want to suspected terrorists now. We can even do some pretty fucked up things to the family, as well. You should know this already though, you’re a lawyer.” Saulter sits in the chair across from Nathan again.

“You don’t understand. You have the wrong guy. I’m not a terrorist and neither is Weston. You guys are trying to frame us!” Nathan exclaims as blood spatters across the desk from his torn lip.

“No, you don’t understand, Mr. Berringer, the government decides who is a terrorist, whether it’s an innocent stay-at-home mom, or a corrupted lawyer.” Saulter walks over to the window again and watches everyone in the street. “We have passed laws only to satisfy the safety of our leaders, and we have desecrated the ones that our forefathers created to protect the people. This nation is no longer a perfect union for the people, it is now a country run by tyranny.”

“That’s bull!” Nathan interrupts as his head meets the surface of the sheet of broken glass on the desk.

“I didn’t want to jump to this scenario.” Saulter looks down at the photo of Becky. Nathan hocks a wad of bloody saliva towards Saulter. He dodges the red slime and looks up at both of his men with rage boiling in his eyes. “Please, do something about his mouth!”

Foster grabs the stapler on the desk and presses the metallic beam against Nathan’s forehead. He slams his fist against the top of the stapler as multiple staples puncture the lawyer’s forehead. He continues to press until he makes his way to the mangled lips. Miguel presses Nathan’s lips together as Foster staples his mouth shut. Droplets of blood rise from the wounds. Nathan moans as tears well up in his eyes and staples bend in and out of his head.

“Is the brave lawyer crying? Please, help him wipe away those tears,” Saulter laughs in amusement at the torture of an innocent man. He watches Foster seal his eyelids shut and press the stapler firmly against the rim of his eyelids.

Nathan’s shriek in his throat makes Saulter stop the two men.

“Do you have something to say now, before we permanently blind you, Mr. Berringer?”

“Mm…mmm…mmm,” Nathan mumbled behind his sealed lips.

“C’mon, let the guy at least have a chance to speak.”

Foster grabs the small staple remover from the desk drawer and wedges the sharp edges underneath each staple, ripping each one out with a slight tug. Saulter watches and listens to Nathan moan in pain until he can finally speak.

“Now, you were saying?” Saulter asks, leaning on the desk.

“Oh, god,” he exhales.

“Sorry, Nathan, but the big guy upstairs had to take a leak. It’s just you and me now.” Saulter grabs Nathan’s chin and turns the lawyer’s head towards him. “Could you stay coherent long enough to hand over those documents I so desperately need, or should I tell my men to torture your family ever so slowly?”

Nathan lazily tosses his head back. His eyes bulge as staples hang from his eyebrows like tiny meat hooks. His lip dangles from his mouth.

“Fuck… you…” he says under his breath.

“Wow! That’s a first from a lawyer, isn’t it, boys?” He looks up at his men with a devilish grin. “Usually your occupation requires you to squeal under pressure, but you, my friend, are the toughest bastard of them all,” he chuckles. “You should’ve joined the military instead. What a waste of talent.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” he asks.

Saulter clenches Berringer’s cheeks together. “This is what happens when you are a hero. It turns you into a person you never thought you could be. Almost superhuman.” Saulter tosses Nathan’s head back and sits back into the chair across from him. “It also turns you into a monster. Yes, you may get some nice feedback and decorate yourself with awards, but, in the long run, all people see is a scorched piece of shit.” He waves both men off of Nathan. “I don’t value the lives of anyone anymore. I only value the death of insubordinate citizens.” He looks out the window at the people in the streets with no sympathy behind his eyes.