Flying Fox Zipline Ride

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Excerpt from In Search of the Lost

“Isn’t it funny how all the evil and wicked men become sorry on their deathbeds…” Greg sighed. “By that time it’s just way too late for apologies.” Greg stood, tucked the knife into the front of his pants and started walking towards Louie. “If he tries to run, shoot ‘em in the back, I haven’t got it in me to chase ‘em down.”

The death of a genre…

So I spent some time at Barnes and Noble the other day, perusing through the fictions aisles in search of Action/Adventure novels. I was expecting to find countless numbers to search through and choose from, but I was surprised.

  I searched the endless rows of crime, thrillers and drama, but the swashbuckling that I was seeking almost didnt exist, except for a few of the biggies; Cussler, Rollins, Berry and a few others with only one or two titles under their name – but they were all buried between the heaps of the majority.

Why was this?  Why were there so few Action/Adventure novelists/novels? 

 Does the public not have a demand for being taken to places unknown, pitted against raging acts of nature and finding the lost, treasure-filled civilization of ancient Sumaria?

Or is our technology dependant society killing off the urge for adventurists, and those who bring it to the page?

Agents and Editors should seize those eager to continue the legacy, because without the Adventure writers, the world just wont be as exciting.

Re-arranging

So I decided today to re-arrange a few chapters in my novel. It was tedious but It feels right. The biggest issue was chapter 1 and it has been rectified.

Finally a request for more…

FInally! I’m recieving compliments rather than pre-formatted rejection letters and to top it off I’ve had two agents request more of my manuscript.

          Going through the process is what makes you a writer, its grueling and at times destructive but there’s no  other way.  Well there is but we, or should I say I, will NEVER go there.

In Search of the Lost – Excerpt

“Across the fire sat a middle-aged aborigine, he looked down at his chest, putting his index finger over a dime sized hole that was oozing blood. He stood up, looked around at the rest of the scattering group – his eyes squinted, confusion, then he toppled forward into the fire. Orange embers exploded into the air as his face and torso impacted the fiery coals.”

The Beast of Gan Eden – Excerpt

“The beast stood just three feet away, its breath throwing heated blasts of swirling vapor. It stared down the cracking Nazi; his feeble hands trembling, bending at the knees, trying to secure the grounded rifle.”

The Beast of Gan Eden – Hook

December 1942; Imprisoned and starved in the remnants of a near abandoned Nazi death camp, Mikael and his six year old son await execution. As the firing squad readies, an unarmed american soldier emerges from the forest, bringing with him, the beast of Gan Eden.