Just to let you know I have not abandoned you, oh reader and friend. Here is a snippet from a scene I am finally pressing through in the Grand Illusion, the sequel to the Grand Attraction:D
Everyone wants their next book to be the next best thing–just like the first: exhilarating and original.
It was as one of those moments one finds themselves in an ever-ordinary place only to have the mind explode into unfathomable creativity. The concrete broke like puzzle pieces and the vacant transports of that great mall all lit up. Carls felt the wisp of gentle breeze to his numbing skin—exhausted, bewildered, and breathless did he gaze upon the brilliant hexes of indigo.
Blind, bitter, and poor did the man shiver amidst the cold and biting wind. The homesteads of Albannik were bunkered for the night and the harshest winter for all they knew. The lonely mountain peek’s town was accustom to winter, but not what they had come to call the Winds of Raigor. From the eastern lands did these winds come–swiftly and like a wolf pack to an abandoned calf. Devouring and relentless did the winds turn color to white, to blue, to death. None could escape it–only cling desperately to life in prayers that it should pass.
It has been a long road. Not to say that this particular publication has been a life’s work, but rather it has. I mean, every idea, every game, every character I could have possibly imagined as a child growing up in the tropics–they all have a story to tell and a way, somehow, that they fit into the grand scheme of things. In this case, the central hallway to which all doors lead. We all play a role–I am just so excited to finally be telling that of Carls Locke, whom any reader is welcomed to venture with as the story of the Grand Attraction unfolds. I can’t wait to publish the next one! If only the funds… 😛 Yay being an author!:D
Now available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, AuthorHouse, and eBook!
We all have illusions–certain scenarios that lure us into an unwanted situation. We have those weaknesses–that caring heart–the often presses us to act unaware of the full circumstance. We all have those choices whose consequences we always hate to face, yet we fall for them again and again. We grow tired, faint, and in need of hope–something to give us strength to press on. Carls Locke, amidst all odds, strives to be that hope. Something inside of him is like that of a spark in a hay-field–he has but yet to fuel it. The hardest part is to endure when hope seems ripped away from you; when at your loss, your expected to help others flourish. It is thus that Locke undergoes himself–a loss so severe and personal to him, it would bear weight for the entirety of his journey, of his purpose, of his hope. (more…)