The greatest solar event in history turned off the world’s power and destroyed much of its technology. The sun’s barrage continues today effectively bringing humanity back to a new Stone Age. This is a time of desolation, where every day is a desperate fight for survival. Food and water are disappearing, and many will kill to take these from you.
– – – – – – – – – – – – –
On a beach in Mexico, a small town in Wyoming, and a rural ranch in Illinois, epic battles between good and evil will be fought.
Meanwhile, a 150 year old secret may lead a lucky few to a place that holds the promise of a new future, unless the sun sets on humanity first.
– – – – –
DESOLATION is a post-apocalyptic novel set in the time after STONE AGE. Both have been #1 Amazon Best-Sellers in Post-Apocalyptic and Dystopian Fiction.
Hello lovers of apocalyptic fiction!
I devour the same books I enjoy writing: science fiction, but especially anything apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic or dystopian. I love stories about regular people being put into extra ordinary circumstances, and having to rely on their own cunning and that of others to survive.
Stone Age & DESOLATION are that kind of story. They’re fast moving, have some regular and amazing characters who must make life changing decisions, all while the world is experiencing an apocalypse unlike anything imagined.
When not writing fiction, my wife and I split time between Tucson, Arizona and the sunny beaches of Mexico. I also write for a few blogs, and I still write articles to assist small business owners for one of the companies I founded, SmallBiZ.com.
From Chapter 1:
Rocky Point, Mexico
A loud screeching cut through the raw morning air, rousing Bill and Lisa King from a fitful sleep of restless nightmares.
The uproar was one more in the endless list of sounds they had never heard before, which made up their life after the apocalypse. It wasn’t the frightening death-throe-screams that followed distant gunshots across the town’s estuaries, or the constant electrical buzz that filled the atmosphere all around them. This sound was a monstrous and powerful outcry immediately outside their beach home.
Bill sprang out of bed, a .45 in his hand, ready to bring death to some poor S.O.B. who was probably just hungry and looking for food.
“What is that?” he bellowed.
“Don’t know, but it’s close,” Lisa shouted barely loud enough to be heard, flying to the window, scarcely touching the carpet.
Impossibly, the roar grew louder. Its deep, penetrating tones were undaunted by their walls and attempts to muffle the assault to their eardrums. It sounded like some angry mechanical leviathan, tearing at the sand and coral with its metal claws.
Standing at the window, Bill pried open the blinds, his jaw dropping farther with each inch revealed. The source of that racket was worse than the prehistoric monster he imagined.
“It’s a cruise ship?” He blinked, transfixed in disbelief. His wife’s eyes mirrored his distrust.
The dark behemoth was a passenger ship but no less terrifying than a T-rex might have been, made malicious by the green auroras illuminating its hull, as though it had been belched out of the depths to destroy them. It crept up onto their beach, slowly pushed by some invisible force, intent on burrowing a bloody trail to town.
The screeching persisted for what seemed an endless amount of time, until the beast ran out of inertia. The high incoming tide deposited it less than one hundred meters from their property.
When the dreadful noise ceased, the relative quiet made the constant thrumming sound of the wind-driven sand drubbing the home’s windows and outside walls sound louder. The hulk lay unmoving, as if asleep, and they stood motionless for fear of waking it.
The light from tonight’s auroras was bright and pulsating, outlining the massive vessel’s form. Out of the water, it looked much taller, not listing as expected but sitting upright almost as if it were properly parked in the port five miles up the coast. Each spectral blast of green revealed more of the ship’s evil presence. A fire on the port side, evidenced by blackened scarring, made it appear that the devil’s own giant hand had reached out from the ship’s bowels, leaving molten prints burned into its hide from the first row of balconies up to the silent chimney stacks. When the pulsating light ebbed, shadowing the ship in a momentary darkness, it almost looked like a normal cruise liner awaiting tourists that would never come. For a ship normally carrying a couple thousand crew and passengers in its belly, there were no signs of life.