Review Novel Killers


Chapter 1

PART 1: Blood Rain

The elderly man switched on his night lamp and got out of bed. His wife was still sound asleep sleeping beside him.

It was a wet wintry night and the moon was hidden behind the dark clouds.

It was cold and damp as the rains continued for the sixth consecutive day.

The weather was now more unpredictable, since the levels of pollution had increased over the last few decades.

Joseph Foxxen had heard a noise in the night, it came from the ground floor of his home.

It sounded like someone was prowling around in the darkness.

He had checked every door and window before he went to bed. He always checked to make sure that the house was secure after a fox had invaded their home years ago, when the children were young.

There were several reports in the news about thieves in the city.

Crime was on the rise in a city that used to be safe at one time and where people could leaves their front doors open.

Joseph was well aware of the reports and the statistics of the rise in crimes. This was common in all modern cities.

He had wanted to keep a gun at home to protect himself and his wife Doris.

But, Doris his peace loving wife was against keeping a gun or any type of fire-arm at home.

Joseph picked up the long metal rod he kept just behind the bedroom door. The rod was used as a curtain rod a few years ago, it was now his weapon of choice. Joseph was a tall man who was an athlete in his youth. He was now in his eighties and not as young and fit as he used to be.

He was not afraid of what or who he was going to confront in the night.

This was his house, his castle and no one had the right to invade his home.

He opened the door of their bedroom and crept downstairs, hoping that the person or persons would not hear him coming down the stairs.

The wooden floorboards seemed to sink under his feet, so he tried to walk on the carpeted areas of his home, so as to muffle the sound of his footsteps.

As he came downstairs he saw the lights in his study were on.

There was definitely a burglar on the premises.

As he moved as soundlessly as he could into his study-room, he saw a man going through his large bound investigative journal on the crime empire which he kept on his desk.

The room was a disaster zone and everything was thrown on the floor. Grandfather’s books, manuscripts and papers were all thrown around in the room. It looked as if a cyclone had hit the room. All he needed to do was to hit the intruder on the back of his head, which was turned to him.

Joseph was not prepared for what happened next, it was too quick for him to react.

The man turned around in a swift movement.

The intruder was wearing a mask and he had a gun in his hand.

At that instant Joseph wished he had a gun to defend himself. This was not a burglar, this man was an assassin and he was the target.

It was too late for Joseph as the man raised his gun and Joseph saw the bullet come straight towards him.

There could be a body lying hidden somewhere in this place, I thought to myself.

The room was overcrowded. There were books and papers everywhere. The floor could not be seen.

There was not enough space to walk through the room to get to the window.

Somehow, Grandma managed to open that window every morning since Grandfather passed away tragically a year ago, when he surprised a burglar at home.

There were books everywhere you looked. The room resembled a study, a library or a publishing house in disarray.

It must have been a year since my Grandfather passed away. I was very close to my Grandfather and I can still clearly remember all the stories he would tell us about his years in the war, when we were growing up as children. Grandpa Joe was always hammering away on his old Remington typewriter. Grandma always complained about the stacks of scrapbooks, manuscripts, notes and piles of papers which he would stack in all corners of the bedroom, the living room and there were even a few mounds of books climbing their way up to the ceiling.

Grandpa Joe had so many stories to tell us as we were growing up, some were fairy tales, some were science fiction, and some were great thrillers. The ideas and the way he would tell the stories were really interesting and very inspiring. Grandpa, was also a regular storyteller at the local Junior School, where he would conduct his Creative Expressions English Classes. The children loved Grandpa Joe “The Storyteller”.

I was now visiting my Grandma at home. I looked around the house and noticed that nothing was removed in the house, all the books, papers and stacks of manuscripts were still lying around in every corner of the home. I felt a great sadness well up inside me, as I wondered to myself what would happen to all Grandpa’s writings, no one would ever see them or even know they existed.

Grandma came with a warm cup of tea and a tray of homemade muffins for me.

“Richard, how is the family?”, asked Grandma Doris, “your sister Mary visited me a week ago, she’s working in a publishing house.”

“They’re okay. I haven’t spoken to Mary in a while,” I said

“Yes, I know you both had a falling out, but it’s time to make up. How is David doing now?” asked Grandma, “was he older than you or is he the younger brother?”

“David’s younger than me and he’s working in Canada as a Construction Manager.He’s very successful and loves his job.”

“Are you still working at the local post office?”

“Yes, I’m still working there grandma.”

“You had better find another job son. There is no job security working at the post office nowadays, at the rate at which the government keeps closing them down.”

“Grandma, what do you plan to do with Grandpa’s papers, books and manuscripts?”

“I really don’t know what to do with all his papers and books. Do you have any ideas Richard,” she asked me expectantly.

“I can take them all and store them away in the corner of the study, so that I can look through the manuscripts, when I’m on leave from work.”

“Will you be getting any leave this Easter and Christmas?” asked Grandma

“I’ll take a few days off for my annual leave in August.”

“Richard, you can come and stay here with me for a few days, if you like. I’ll prepare your favorite dishes for you.”

“That’s a great idea, Gran,” I said giving her a hug.

“Is there anything special you’d like me to cook for you during your holidays?”

“Maybe a meatball curry and vegetable rice,” I said just dreaming about the delicious food. Grandma was a great Chef and everyone in the family loved her cooking. We had relatives and friends, from Canada, New Zealand and Australia, who would visit my grandparents at home, just to taste Grandma’s excellent dishes. Grandma was always giving out her recipes to people. But, they would all come back to inform Grandma that the food did not taste the same. My Mother Liz was a great cook as well, and I guess it was all the training in cooking she got from her mother-in-law.

I decided to have a look in the old shed at the back of the house. The shed was quite old. Grandpa had all his tools stacked in one corner of the shed. In the center of the shed, was a huge pile of plastic boxes, in it were all the handwritten and typed notes as well as manuscripts of my Grandfather’s.

I went to the far end of the shed and saw large lots of books. There were so many fiction and non-fiction books including ones on numismatics, birds, philately and astronomy. I started to work on this pile of books, trying to sort them out into subject categories to donate to the local library and Charity shops. Grandma came to see me working at the shed, which was quite dimly lit, with one light bulb.

“Richard, rest a bit, here, have a nice warm cup of tea, with these cookies I baked on Sunday,” said grandma, handing me a plate of delicious looking chocolate cookies.

I started my work in the shed after Grandma went to rest. I was surprised at the number of typewriters, books, old VHS cassettes I found in the back of the shed. There were also a large number of comics and other literature which I found in storage.

A large number of the materials were spoiled in the dampness of the shed. While there were about two large bundles of books which were attacked by rodents. It was shocking to see that so many old articles in scrapbooks were soiled due to the poor damp conditions in the shed.

It was while I was going through the papers and books, that I heard a rustle behind the wooden book racks. I moved behind the book-racks to investigate. Two mice leaped out at me. I was startled though I was prepared for it, lost my balance and fell to the floor, I was lucky to land on more old magazines. The mice scampered away into the darkness of the shed and let me get on with my work of sorting out all the mess. I was feeling very tired and went back home. I returned at the weekend, when I had Saturday off from my work at the post-office.

Grandmother was happy to see me again and served me a hearty lunch. It started to rain and the sound of the rain could be heard hammering on the roof.

“Richard, why don’t you stay and watch something on TV till the rain stops and then you can go to the shed to sort out more of the books,” said Grandma, as she offered me another cup of tea.

“Thanks, Grandma, that’s a good idea. I will go and watch one of Grand Dad’s DVDs in the living room, till the rain stops.”

Grandma left me in the living room as she went to prepare some cakes for tea. I went to the living room and sat on Grandfather’s big arm-chair. It was soft and comfortable. I picked up a few of the DVDs from the cabinet. I decided to watch, “Silverado,” one of my favourites. I looked at the small stand beside the cabinet and noticed a small note book, with a list of all the stories and manuscripts written by Grandfather. It was all neatly written and would be perfect for when I needed to get all the manuscripts together and prepare them for publication.

By the time the movie ended, the rains had stopped as well. I walked down to the shed, there was red water everywhere. A can of red paint which Grandfather had last used to paint a part of a kitchen wall had toppled over in the flood waters. There was also a fresh hole in the roof of the shed, from where the water was seeping. The boxes of documents and books needed to be moved. I phoned my friend Gus, who lived close by and who had grown up with me.

“Hi Richard,” said Gus, as he walked in, he left his wet shoes at the door and wiped his feet, before walking into the house. Gus knew how strict Grandmother was with keeping the house clean.

“Here Gus, take this cloth to dry your feet,” said Grandmother.

“Grandma, Gus and I will be working down at the shed.”

“Okay Richard, take a few bottles of coke from the fridge,” said Grandma.

Gus and I spent four hours, clearing out all the boxes of manuscripts and documents from the shed to the spare room in Grandmother’s house.

I spent the weekend with Grandma. She kept herself busy around the home. I would visit her whenever I could almost twice a week. I would do some shopping for her. But, Grandma was not helpless, she loved to do her own cleaning, washing and cooking. The local Church group would visit my grandmother once a week and do some cleaning and cooking for her, especially when she was not well. When grandfather passed away she was in shock for a full week. They were very close and they doted on one another. It was a chance meeting at a country fair, when they met. Grandfather would tell us the long story about how he first spotted his one true love and he rescued her when she was sitting on a large Ferris wheel which suddenly came to an abrupt halt. He was a young man of twenty, tall and strong and he was a hero as he carried the pretty girl down in his arms. Three hours later the Ferris wheel was fixed. Grandmother did not remember much of what happened that day and always said that the whole episode was very fuzzy. But, then again Grandfather was a great storyteller and everyone would be entranced hearing his enthralling stories, every evening and on cold wintry nights.

I was treated to a lot of tasty food. I used this time to go through all Grandfather’s papers, books and manuscripts. I tallied them with the small book I had found with the list, which Grandfather had made.

Grandpa’s writings were on a variety of topics, from notes of his days in the army, to genealogical research notes, to short stories and about ten fully completed manuscripts.

In his lifetime Grandpa received a lot of rejection letters from publishers. Most of the book publishers and literary agents worked for either directly or indirectly with SWAMP the largest publishers in the world. SWAMP was an acronym for Serving the World in All Market Places. When SWAMP was created over half a century ago by the President of the World Council of Commerce it had a positive vision. The largest marketplace in the world SWAMP was now changed into a controlling force which manipulated all sectors of world markets and even controlled over ninety per cent of the professions of the world. The SWAMP Academies and Vocational training Centres were thriving institutions which trained the professionals of the future. SWAMP also received a ten percent of all salaries earned by every person employed in companies owned and controlled by the company.

It was always very difficult to know who worked for SWAMP because almost everyone did directly or indirectly. SWAMP was present everywhere and when someone would do something good in the world, they were always on the look-out for the Harbingers of evil.

The Post Office where I worked was owned and managed by SWAMP. Grandfather Joe was a carpenter and made the most beautiful cabinets. He was not a part of the SWAMP workforce and preferred to stay that way during his life. All his writings and his literary endeavors were rejected repeatedly because independent publishing was not encouraged. When there were writers making loads of money on the SWAMP marketplace, it was because it was made possible by the clever market machinations, metrics and manipulations of SWAMP.

I needed to focus on why I was here sorting papers. I was now more than motivated to continue my work, as Grandma brought me a cup of tea. I loved drinking tea, I had a cup almost every hour a day. I know it is a bit too much, but then I guess it is an addiction, which helped me with my writing and relaxation.

Grandma had a collection of herbal teas which she liked me to taste. Some of the aromas were simply out of this world and some were horrendous.

I had developed an interest in writing and publishing. I worked as a Proof-Reader and Literary Agent part-time for a publishing firm.

The main focus in the world of publishing is on getting more readers for books and ebooks. However, it now needs to shift to encouraging more authors to publish their work, while giving them the support of established publishers. It was my wish to make authors rock stars. It is about time that the work of authors is recognized and that they get rewarded for their writings.

Newsletters and e-newsletters with Book news is filled with articles on the latest bestsellers, book deals, book fairs and appointments at publishing houses. There are a few which also report new publishing trends. What is missing from all these publishing newsletters is the opening of avenues to independent authors.

Independent authors and publishing news is absent from Publishing Newsletters. Will this change in future? Can we only hope that there will be a meeting of minds to make a unified approach to publishing possible?

Most Independent Authors struggle to solve the puzzle of first time authors getting unbelievable book deals with publishing houses. If the world has never heard of an author, who has no readers and no proof of having a marketable book, how is it possible for the author to secure a million dollar book deal?

Does the answer lie with the Literary agents who have a powerful influence with Publishers in order to get the best deals for debut authors?

The manuscript that stood out for me was titled “Captive Heiress” and had to be the one I would publish first. It was the story of a young woman who was kidnapped while on her way to work as a fashion designer. The lady was divorced and she had two young children. After she was kidnapped her captor gave her a drug which erased her memory. The young lady’s captor was shocked to discover that the woman he had abducted was a wealthy heiress. He had married the lady and he kept trying to get the lady’s memory back but it was too late. She never saw her children grow up. Her memory never returned. Her husband cum captor kept trying different ways to get her to remember who she was but it was too late. An impostor had claimed the fortune and her husband and captor had lost the claim to all the wealth he could have had.

Chapter 2

The New Age of Publishing

“In matters of truth the fact that you don’t want to publish something is, nine times out of ten, a proof that you ought to publish it.”

  1. K. Chesterton

A year ago things started to change for the better.

There was a new publishing company in the city which encouraged everyone to be a publisher.

Gold Leaf Publishing was the new company which seemed to offer all writers the golden opportunity for publishing and selling their own books while maintaining full control over distribution and marketing.

Gold Leaf Publishing owned by Wayne Morrow was taking the literary world by storm.

SWAMP seemed to stay away from the new publishing company. There was an article which stated that Gold Leaf Publishing was only allowed to operate in the city and in the world by giving “Swamp” a four percent from every sale made.

This is definitely the Golden New Age of Publishing, where anyone and everyone can publish a book online, with the new Print on Demand publishing model. I was meeting Carol and Henry, who were a husband and wife writing team who needed to get their work reviewed. The Gregorian Publishing firm I worked for was interested in their work and assigned me to their case.

They had been writing for the last two years and had now completed a fantasy series, which they felt would be just what the fantasy and science fiction genres needed in the marketplace.

I was at the Waldorf Hotel for the appointment at seven in the evening on a Friday night. The dining room at the hotel is full with young and old couples, who are spending an evening out at the Theater followed by dinner at the Waldorf.

I have been sitting at the table for the last ten minutes and then the couple walk in. They are a young couple in their early thirties dressed smartly. They smile as they spot me and come over to my table. We had a productive meeting and I got them to sign on the dotted line. The Gregorian Publishing firm had got the new authors.

After that evening meeting I got to thinking that I could set up my own publishing firm, with the five years of experience I had as a literary agent. It would definitely be more rewarding than the job I had at the post-office. I needed capital and that was something I did not have. Authors put in a lot of effort into writing their novels from start to finish or any other fiction and non-fiction book. Authors deserve to receive a lot more fame and recognition, especially independent authors. Authors need to be treated like rock stars by their readers. An author tends to view the world from a unique perspective and sheds light on topics of interest, which many of us think about casually, but do not stop to go any deeper. The authors of today are the visionaries of the future. I needed to take the world to the future of publishing. I started working on the manuscript of my book, “Renaissance Publishing”. The book was going to be my experiences in publishing and the gradual evolution of the writing and publishing industry.

I received an invitation to attend the Young Writers and Publishers Conference at the Atlas Convention Centre in Los Angeles. My friend Simon was a writer and he had gone into Indie Publishing a few months ago.

There were so many young writers attending the Conference that I was amazed. The young people were from all corners of the world. There were writers from Canada, Australia, America, New Zealand, Africa, India, Britain and even from Finland and Iceland.

Outside the Convention hall there was a demonstration of Publishers who were protesting on this new form of Indie Publishing, where anyone who was a writer could publish their work online, to be read and distributed globally with the new Print-on-Demand system. Tis meant that no one needed to publish several copies of a book and wait for them to sell. If the copies did not sell, they were eventually discarded for recycling.

“We support Traditional Publishing”, the group of Protesters shouted. There was a large yellow banner, which read, “WE LOVE READING REAL PRINTED BOOKS”.

The disturbance outside the Conference Centre was unsettling, as the participants and the guests had to pass through all these middle-aged publishers, who were so obsessed with their old and archaic form of book publishing.

“They need to move with the times,” said Cindy a young teenage indie author, who wrote and published her novels online. Her writings were creating a sensation in the literary world and some people were of the opinion that she was a millionaire now.

“I know, I guess they will learn after a few years, that Indie publishing is the way to go,” I said with a smile.

The Speakers were all young people, who were now masters in the craft of writing as well as publishing their own works as well as the writings of their friends. There seemed to be a great sense of community among all these Indie Authors and self-publishers. They all had been through the mill of the rejection letters and yet now they were on an equal footing with any traditionally published author.

The Twelve year old Writer and Publisher Naresh Varghese, who was from Canada, spoke about his writing and publishing projects. Naresh enjoyed writing novels for children. He had been writing for the last four years. He had millions of readers worldwide and two of his books were even translated into ten languages.

“The people demonstrating outside, do not realize that their children and grand-children can and will be writers someday, who can print and publish their books like I do, without the need for traditional publishers,” said Naresh. This statement which rings true was well received by the audience.

The Fiction Writers Award was awarded to Edwin Fitzgerald, who had also written and self-published his Magnum Opus about the Future of Man in a mechanized society fifty years into the future. Edwin had taken five years to complete his manuscript in which he had filled it with facts about the latest developments in science and technology in the world and the gradual social-physical and psychological evolution of man, to meet the new future of mankind.

The Virtual Book Tours presentation was mind-blowing. There were wall projections of all the new and exciting books coming out by so many new authors over the next few months. The virtual book tours were now managed under the umbrella of the Billion Book Tour project, which would simultaneously conduct the tour of all the new releases on Book blogs, social media platforms, to short film trailer and movie communities online.

Arnold Fenwick a celebrated Book blogger next came onstage and spoke about “Book Bloggers the New Literati”.  Arnold was a blogger for the last twenty years and had published a number of books on the art and science of blogging and the power of the blogosphere in defining the book publishing revolution.

Arnold also spoke about the new threats being faced by book bloggers from those in society, who felt threatened by the power of social book bloggers. Veronica Haas, was a book blogger, who was murdered a few months ago, for the reviews she had posted on to social sites, about the Autobiography of the Military tyrant Armel Shammel.

There was a two minutes silence as a mark of respect for the late Veronica Haas, while a short film was displayed on the screen, as a tribute to her memory.

Martin Horan next spoke about the importance of Author Interviews, Podcasts and Radio Shows and how it made a difference in sales, a readers fan base that readers found it more appealing. The primary goal of putting the author in the spot-light, was to make it more appealing to the readers who had hundreds of questions related directly or indirectly to the books written and published by the author.

Next on Stage were the “Novel Killers” a music band of five members. They performed their two popular songs at the Young Writers and Publishers Conference.


A Serious Kinda Author

By Novel Killers


An Original Song


I get on with life as an author,

I’m a serious kinda person.

I like singing and swimming.

I like to contemplate writing.

But when I start to daydream,

My mind turns straight to publishing.


Five six seven eight…   


Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,

I notice the way I think about publishing with a smile,

Curved lips I just can’t disguise.

But I think it’s writing making my life worthwhile.

Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?

Writing or…



I like to use words like ‘awesome’ and ‘marvelous.’

I like to use words about writing.

But when I stop my talking,

My mind turns straight to publishing.


Five six seven eight…   


Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,

I notice the way I think about publishing with a smile,

Curved lips I just can’t disguise.

But I think it’s writing making my life worthwhile.

Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?

Writing or…



I like to hang out with Mike and Katy.

But when left alone,

My mind turns straight to publishing.


Five six seven eight…   


Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,

I notice the way I think about publishing with a smile,

Curved lips I just can’t disguise.

But I think it’s writing making my life worthwhile.

Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?

Writing or…



I hate rejection letters and disappointment.

But I just think back to publishing,

And I’m happy once again.


Five six seven eight…   

The audience loved the song and there was clapping and cheering as the band continued.

They were ready to perform the second song that evening.

How much do you love publishing?

By Novel Killers

An Original Song


You get on with life as an author,

You’re a serious kinda person.

You like reading comics on Sundays,

You like watching football in the week.

You like to contemplate writing.

But when you start to daydream,

Your mind turns straight to publishing.


Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!     


Do you love publishing more than writing?

Do you love publishing more than writing?


You like to use words like ‘juicy,’

You like to use words like ‘typo.’

You like to use words about writing.

But when you stop your talking,

Your mind turns straight to publishing.


Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!     


Do you love publishing more than writing?

Do you love publishing more than writing?


You like to hang out with Alice,

You like to kick back with Emily,

But when left alone,

Your mind turns straight to publishing.


Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!     


Do you love publishing more than writing?

Do you love publishing more than writing?


You’re not too fond of rejection letters,

You really hate disappointment,

But you just think back to publishing,

And you’re happy once again.


Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!     

The “Novel Killers” got a standing ovation.

There was even louder cheering and applause as the music band left the conference hall.

Susie Hughes next came on stage and delivered her speech on the “Publishing Powers of the Literati.”

“The Golden Age of the Literati”, was an article written by Susie Hughes in the Literary Snowstorm Chronicles. She had interviewed a large number of Indie Authors and self-publishers and noticed the freedom and sense of achievement almost all of them had. Most of them did not worry about a book deal. It was just a matter of getting their materials published and out in the world to be read. There was more freedom in the way a person could write on a topic and then release it out into the world, like any other author.

The day marked the death of conventional writing and publishing.

The corpses of author rejection letters, faded, yellow and brittle lined the gutters at the end of the five day conference of Indie publishing.

But, is this freedom of writing and publishing a boon or a curse?

Chapter 3

An Elusive Book Deal

“As repressed sadists are supposed to become policemen or butchers so those with an irrational fear of life become publishers.”

Cyril Connolly

There were upheavals in the world. There were dictators and tyrants all around the world coming into power each trying to outdo the other, with their displays of nuclear arsenal. Countries were now openly declaring war on one another. New alliances were being formed. The future of humanity was looking bleak.

In the natural world there seemed to be an increase in the rate of natural disasters as well.

There were floods in India, America, Tokyo and Japan. Human lives were being lost in thousands as the raging waters submerged towns and villages.

Volcanic eruptions in Greece, Japan and Italy killed thousands of residents. It seemed that the core of the earth was so hot it wanted to burst out of its core.

Earthquakes which rocked the Richter scale were now occurring on a frequent basis in the United Kingdom, Scotland, Ireland, Russia, New Zealand and Canada. The earthquakes which destroyed and killed so many lives and destroyed homes seemed to be like a beast flexing its muscles and destroying humanity as it awoke from its long slumber.

My grandfather Joseph had tried to get his books published twenty years ago, but failed to get a book deal from a publisher, not that he trusted them with his work.

I had made a big collection of my Grandfather’s writings. I had stored them all in a large cabinet. I now needed someone to go through all the writings and to catalogue the work into distinct categories.

I phoned my Grandmother, a few days ago and she told me that a number of Grandfather’s students, whom he had taught in Schools as an English teacher, visited her at home. It was then I had got an idea, which would save me time and which would bring the collected writings of Joseph Foxxen into the world as a series of books on various subjects.

The dream of starting a Book Publishing Company was definitely on the horizon. I finally decided to start an Indie book publishing company, as I needed to get my writings published. I could also publish the works of other aspiring authors, who wanted to have their writings reach the hands of readers, but who needed that guidance in getting their work published. As a book consultant I now had the opportunity of letting more writers know just how simple it was to get their books published as e-books online and to sell them for a profit. I kept my regular job, as the publishing company was still in its early stages.

I phoned my Grandmother Doris and asked her for a list of the students who had visited her home a week ago. Grandma gave me the names she remembered. Grandma told me that a girl called Regina, a college student from the Elderly Out-Reach Program would be visiting her again. She left a copy of the book she had recently published online for Grandmother to read, it was about her Great-grandmother who escaped her marriage in Africa to a cruel husband to work as a nanny for a couple in England. While in England she met and later married Regina’s Grandfather who worked as a Chauffeur for the couple.

I told Grandma to give Regina my contact details if she was interested in working with Grandfathers papers and only if she had the time. A week later I got a phone call from Regina, she was interested. I made an appointment with Regina and we met at Grandma’s place the following Saturday, when I was off from my work at the Post office.

Regina and I collected the stories and various writings of my Grandfather for publication. Regina started work on putting everything together and recording the details of the works. It was an immense task, but one that Regina enjoyed doing.

The Indie Editing and publishing services were now advertised in the local newspapers and got a good response. There were so many writers who just wanted to write and were willing to get someone else to do the advertising, book promotion and publishing for them.

I now needed to get another person to assist me with all the latest Social media book promotions, tour events, which could include Twitter chats, organizing Facebook discussions and video chats on Google Plus. I asked Regina, who was now working as a freelance journalist and author if she would be interested in the job and she said that she was willing to join my new firm.

“The Freedom Publishing Book Company”, which I established from my desk at home was also launching “The Write and publish a Novel in a week campaign.” In these campaigns, people who buy a book during a certain time-frame receive bonus gifts from the author or from Joint Venture partners who contribute bonuses and help promote the event.

The popularity of the Freedom Publishing Book Company was on the rise.

A large database was being created of Indie authors who were now publishing online.

Schools and Colleges across the globe were now teaching students all the facets of independent publishing as a subject. It was gradually becoming very popular as more young people and even the elderly were taking to writing and publishing.

The authors were happy to be published, but they were not yet getting readers and reviews.

Established publishing houses were not afraid about this glut of self-publishing by new authors, until things started to change.

The League of Novel Killers is an organization of special operatives and assassins, who were former disgruntled members of the book and publishing industry.

At the beginning of every month the Head of the League would issue the Desiderata list of names of people who needed to pay for their crimes. The Hit List was then circulated to all members of the group. The person with the most kills would have a million dollar novel deal presented to him or her. The Novel Kills was a series of books listing all the hapless victims of the Novel Killers. This was a popular series worldwide, as readers were curious to know the lives of the victims, their crimes and the method in which the victims were killed which were always novel methods.

The Novel Killer Librarian fixed a copper Bookplate onto the forehead of his victims stating the crime the person had committed.

The Novel Killer Literary Agent would put on cloth shaped Dog-Ears onto his victims and then throw them into a pit to be attacked and killed by rabid dogs.

The Publisher Novel Killer would encase his victims in parchment laced with cyanide and then cover them with buckets of bookworms, cockroaches and leeches.

Chapter 4

The Instant Million Dollar Book Deal Generator

“When you publish a book, it’s the world’s book. The world edits it.”

Philip Roth

In my spare time I continued my research and writing on my book, “Renaissance Publishing,” which I had stopped working on for a while.

I was thinking one evening about the predicament faced by so many young writers and Indie publishers, that although they had published their works, they could not get a book contract. Every Author could only dream about a big book deal coming their way.

I spoke to my friend Shelly who was a computer programmer and was a genius at writing programs and designing apps. Shelly and I had been friends for a number of years, since college. We were just friends and we enjoyed being together, so we went to the movies and weekend outings. However, we were not romantically involved.

I visited Shelly at her home, we had lunch and then we started to discuss plans for the new concept I had made a sketch to use.

“A Million Dollar Book deal Generator” said Shelly.

“Yes, that is what I was thinking of, it would be fantastic if such a generator could be available online, for authors who join the course,” I said.

“What components would you need to add to this generator,” asked Shelly, with her laptop on the desk as she was ready to key in all the features for the configuration of this particular project.

“ The author’s manuscript, the requirements of a book worthy of a book deal, which I will give to you later, content and presentation being very important and of course a database of those publishers who are willing to offer a million dollar book deal for such a book,” I said thinking about the details.

“Do you have a database for literary agents and publishers,” asked Shelly.

“No, I’m still working on the database and there are a large number of publishers I still need to contact. That is definitely a work in progress.”

“That’s fine, I’ll work on designing the application of the book deal generator for now,” said Shelly sipping a glass of orange juice.

Later that evening after I returned home, I started to draw up a blueprint of the proper publishing company I was going to establish. There was a lot of research that had to be done. I knew that it was just an idea that I had and it was not guaranteed to work. I wish that I had luck at my side as well. I started by finding the details of literary agents and book publishers.

I created form letters to send out to different publishers worldwide. This was going to be a large project and I would need all the information and the expertise which I could find. I was now beginning to think to myself that it was great to get the feeling of being a Publishing Magnate at home.

There were now some bestselling authors who had started their own publishing companies, after resounding success in the field of e-book publishing. The world of publishing had gone through a big change since the nineties and it was not going to stop. There was a surge in the number of people writing and self-publishing. The newly coined phrase “Indie-preneurs” heralded the rise of indie authors, who could self-publish their works, without all the stringent rules placed by large publishing house, agents and publishers.

The rejection letters started to come in from literary agents and publishing houses, who did not want to join the Instant million dollar book deal generator program.

The phone rang and I recognized the number, it from Gary Bernstein from the Phoenix Flame Publishing House.

“Hi Richard,” said Gary in his familiar high pitched voice.

“Hi Gary, how are you doing?”

“I’m good. I was just looking at this letter from you. The whole idea sounds good, but quite risky. I wouldn’t want to publish an author who writes garbage.”

“I know, but the program will eliminate, evaluate and approve authors who are up to standard.”

“But, up to whose standards?”

“It would be up to the standards of a bestseller book…”

“Sounds good, I’ll need to think about it though.”

“Phone me Gary, if you change your mind.”

“I don’t think I will, speak to you later.”

“Thanks,” said Richard as he hung up the phone.

As Richard turns around he sees Shelly who has come back home after visiting her parents. Her twin brother James was with her. They went shopping and he reached her back home. Although James was Shelly’s twin, he did not resemble her at all. He was six feet tall with brown hair, brown eyes and looked like an athlete. Shelly is five feet four in height, blond and with a slim figure.

James lived in his T-shirt and jeans. He carried a notepad with him and kept making notes about his electrical designs.

“Was that Gary, what did he say?” said Shelly.

“Not interested,” said Richard.

“I need some beer,” said Jim as he walked over to the fridge and pulled out some cans. He threw one to Richard, handed one to Shelly.

He took a can opened it and poured the contents into his mouth, as he walked over to the television and switched the channels to watch one of the nature programs. He let out a burp as he kept drinking from the beer can.

Richard and Shelly were in the kitchen looking at Jim lounging now in the living room, with his feet on the glass table.

“You brought him back with you,” said Richard

“He wanted to reach me home,” said Shelly with a smile. She loved her twin but sometimes it would become too much for her. He was not working and although he was brilliant with computers and electronics, he preferred to live at home.

“Has he got a job?”, said Richard, quite upset at seeing Shelly’s useless brother.

“He says that he does some part-time work at the garage and trading on some web auctions.”

“Jim needs to get a proper job and stop sponging off your parents,” said Richard.

“Mum told me that he gives them money and he always has his wallet full of cash.”

“He’s not as useless as I thought he was, but he seems to have too much time on his hands.”

“Dad’s not happy that he’s still staying with them, but Mum doesn’t mind.”

“Anyway, I don’t want him to get too comfortable here. The last time he was here, he blew one of our fuses doing some of his computer work in the basement.”

“He’s off tomorrow morning and he’s got some friends to meet. I’ll serve dinner now.”

“I may as well go and sit and watch some television with Jim,” said Richard as he walks into the living room and sits on the sofa.

Shelly starts to prepare dinner for the three of them. She looks at Richard and Jim speaking and smiles.

Richard watched as the mobile Library van pulled into his street. A young man got out of the blue and yellow van. This was the regular door-to-door service provided by the local library and was used by most of the libraries in the country.

Over the last twenty years eighty-percent of the libraries had disappeared. There were funding cuts and more people were left unemployed. The mobile library network was catching on and there were still people who wanted to read printed books.

The young man who may have been in his early twenties walked with a slight limp. He was tall and lanky with brown hair. He wore a blue shirt, black trousers and a blue cap with the library emblem “Wayfarer Library” emblazoned on it with the design of a golden eagle with its wings outstretched.

The young man walked to the back of his van with his clip-board. He had a list of names which he was going through. He next picked up a pack of books and walked towards a building on the street. He pressed the bell and waited for the door to open.

The door opened and the young courier walked into the building.

Richard looked towards the top of the building and he sees a young girl standing on the ledge of a window about to leap to her death from the tenth floor of the building.

There is a big crowd collected on the street now looking at the young teenage girl about to jump.

The girl is shaking on the ledge as she stands with her light pink night-suit.

The sounds of sirens can be heard. An ambulance has arrived, followed by three police cars and two fire-engines.

At that moment, Richard sees the young man from the library walk out of the building.

As he looks around, he sees the confusion, he looks up next and calmly re-enters the building.

A few minutes later, Richard is surprised to see that the young librarian is peeping out of the window, speaking to the girl.

A few seconds later, it would seem, in the blink of an eye, the young man is standing on the ledge beside the girl.

He speaks to the girl, but she keeps moving away. The winds are growing stronger, as the girl appears to be losing her balance on the ledge. He keeps on talking to the girl who first appeared to resist his help. He places his finger on her forehead and then almost as if she was in a trance, the young girl stretches out her hand to him. The lips of the young man keep moving. That boy can surely talk, Richard thinks to himself. It is as if he has hypnotized the young lady.

The young librarian holds her hand and then helps the girl back into her room.

The crowds are cheering, as the young hero rescues the teenager who would have fallen to her death from the tall building.

Richard keeps watching the whole event taking place and he is impressed with the actions of the young man.

The crowds keep cheering as the young man walks out of the building.

The police and special emergency services rush into the building to take assist the traumatized girl.

The young man walks back to his van and drives away amid all the confusion.

The next morning, the newspapers are all plastered with the news of the mysterious young man who rescued the young girl from certain death. In the article the reporter mentions that the library was contacted but they have no record of any young librarian being in that area at the time. A van was reported missing by the library that morning along with a uniform, but it turned up in their garage the next morning, with no trace of the good Samaritan.

Chapter 5

The Generator and The Database of Publishers

“No publisher should ever express an opinion on the value of what he publishes. That is a matter entirely for the literary critic to decide. I can quite understand how any ordinary critic would be strongly prejudiced against a work that was accompanied by a premature and unnecessary panegyric from the publisher. A publisher is simply a useful middle-man. It is not for him to anticipate the verdict of criticism.”


Oscar Wilde

The Literary Agents and Book Publishers Meeting was held in Japan, with over a thousand members attending. There was a special discussion held regarding the Instant Million Dollar Book Deal Generator, with a number of the participants signing up for the program.

Jim Huckman who attended the day, was a prominent Literary Agent and he was not really a supporter of this program, as it would make the work of a literary agent redundant. A number of literary agents and agencies had joined Jim in his protest against the program.

There was also a short interview Richard had with Jim.

“This Instant Million Dollar Book Deal program” online will be a farce, with a lot of clowns for writers, writing, publishing and getting petty book deals,” said Jim.

“Well Jim, to begin with our Instant Book Deal program, will have built-in features, which will make sure that every bit of writing is scrutinized for composition as well as content before a book deal is given. The system will be completely automated. We have tested the program with different types of manuscripts, and all don’t get through the automated system. The best qualitative writing can only get a book deal,” said Richard.

“Have you put your manuscripts to the test, Richard?”, asked Jim belligerently.

“Yes, I have Jim, and to tell you the truth, only one was accepted, while three were rejected. Would you like to submit one of your Author’s manuscript’s for the “Instant Million Dollar Book Deal?” asked Richard.

“No, thank you. I prefer to read, correct and evaluate a manuscript before I ask a publisher to even consider a deal,” said Jim nonchalantly.

As part of his presentation Richard explained the Automatic Manuscript Diagnostic Features (AMDF), to make it more easy to understand. There were a lot of queries on the authenticity of the system and if it would serve a useful purpose in future. All publishers who were in favor of the whole concept were willing to join, only if they could see the system work for themselves.

In order to show them the live working of the “Instant Million Dollar Book Deal” program, Richard submitted a manuscript online while on stage and in a matter of minutes, a contract was issued on the computer screen from one of the many participating book publishers of fiction.

Richard explained that the publisher who accepted the book, would instantly, at the touch of a button on his phone app release, “The Instant Book Contract Offer”.

Every book publisher who took part in the program, would have all his book publishing requisites recorded into the system so as to evaluate the Book Content before issuing the Book Contract.

The Instant Million dollar Book deal generator had a ready-made process, which integrated with book production, Marketing, Advertising and book distribution systems. The system would also have an ironclad guarantee to ensure that only the best written content was approved and passed on for million dollar sales to a market ready and waiting to purchase the books.

The essential criteria of the Instant Million Dollar Book Deal, was that every author was on an equal footing when securing a book deal, regardless of knowing or not knowing anyone in the publishing industry. The content of a book was of utmost importance and bestseller authors had as much of a chance at securing a contract as someone who walks in with her manuscript from nowhere, but has something worth writing about.

Richard ended the day by stating that “All Writers and all Manuscripts are not made Equal, but everyone had an equal opportunity at success.”

After the presentation Susan the daughter of the publishing Magnate Donald Somerville speaks to Richard.

Susan Somerville was a six foot brunette. She was in her early thirties and knew a lot about book publishing. A few months ago Susan had made a movie adaptation of a novel, “Transparent Wine”, which won her five awards at movie festivals. Susan was now also actively involved in finding good stories by authors, which could be adapted for the silver screen and for television.

I was going to meet Susan in her office later that week.

I walked into “Somerville Publishing” and knew exactly what I needed that day.

I needed my own publishing house with all the bells and whistles to make it a contender in the field of book publishing.

Susan and I had a successful meeting. She offered to provide me with movie producers and literary agents who would be interested in the Million Dollar book generator.

That evening when Shelly got home after work Richard gave her the good news.

“I met Susan Somerville today,” said Richard.

“How did it go?”, said Shelly, as she took off her black coat and threw it on the sofa, where she sat down. She took of her shoes.

Richard walks up to her with a glass of wine and gives her a kiss on her lips. Shelly looks cool in her light blue blouse and dark blue skirt. She had her hair up in a knot. She sips the wine and switches on the television.

“The meeting went well. Susan is interested. She has a great office for her publishing house. She said that she would provide me with her contacts and the names of literary agents and publishers who could be interested in our system.”

“Will she be willing to be added on to the database to make it possible for movie adaptations to be done for those books which get approved by the million dollar bestseller system?” says Shelly enquiringly.

“Yes, she said that she was willing to join and felt that it would be a revolution in publishing and that it would also shake up the entire industry.”

“It will definitely make it possible for more Indie authors to get onto the bestseller list. I will need to tweak the code for the program to add the movie and television adaptation factors for the bestseller program,” said Shelly.

“I definitely want that posh office for our publishing house as soon as we hit the big time,” said Richard with a smile and a distant look in his eyes, as he visualized his own publishing empire.

“Yes, it would make the home, less messy and more spacious,” said Shelly, looking at the stacks of papers in the corners of the room. There were books and manuscripts lying everywhere, even on the dining table.

The next morning I received news which was surprising.

Chapter 6

Dream of the Million Dollar Book Deal

The phone rang on the desk, where Richard was working at his computer.

“Hello, Richard here.”

“Hi Richard, it’s me Gary.”

“How are you doing Gary? Changed your mind?”

“Yes, in fact I have. I met Jim the other day when I went for an auction in the city. We got chatting about the instant million dollar book generator which you and his sister are working on. He sold me the idea. You can sign me on.”

“Thanks Gary, that’s wonderful news, welcome aboard.”

“Speak to you later Richard, just send over any documents which need to be signed.”

“Will do and thanks once again,” said Richard.

“You should thank Jim, he had a great pitch for the project,” said Gary.

I could not wait to tell Shelly the good news.

So, I picked up the mobile and rang her.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” said Richard excitedly.

“What is it,” said Shelly who was busy at work attending to customers in the computer store.

“Gary signed on to the project.”

“That’s great. I’ll call you later. I’m busy right now at the store.”

“Yes, we’ll speak later.”

I had formed a think-tank team online for the project over the last two months, managed by Regina the girl who was helping me with grandfather’s novel.

Feedback was so important, as were the trends in the publishing industry.

A new Author published and a successful author boosted everyday on the bestseller list was the basis of the book project my team and I were tirelessly working on. I had a team working on the trends in the book industry. The typical niches which were enjoyed by readers were explored. It seemed that romance, thrillers, science fiction and horror were high up on the bestseller lists. We were in the process of analyzing the metrics of a bestseller both fiction and non-fiction.

The Million dollar book deal was the main focus of my team’s efforts under the able direction of my girlfriend Shelly. We were trying to combine all the facts that we had with us, of the likes of readers, the most popular book categories, the readership base, the age groups and all other relevant factors like book covers, titles and colours to make the process more manageable.

On hand we had Devlin a great MIT computer programmer and his geek squad of four friends who were developing a metric system to interpret all the data that we had collected on bestsellers over the last ten years.

One year later, Shelly and the team develop the fully automated Million Dollar Book Deal Generator.

Designing all the features of the generator together took time. We were creating a ready database of publishers. Our team arranged several meetings with Agents and Book Publishers who would accept the proposal.

The next important feature of the program was the Automatic Manuscript Diagnostic Feature.

The Instant Book Contract Offer was outlined and after several drafts it was finally approved. We wanted the author of a piece of writing to have all the rights to his or her own intellectual property at all times.

A computer check of the manuscript was developed keeping in mind the subject the novel or book would cover and if it had a ready market.

This entailed the valuing of the Book Content and if found to be of the marketable standard expected, then Issuing the Book Contract was to be the next step.

The essential basis of the Million Dollar Book Deal was that “All writers and all Manuscripts are not made Equal.” The essential ingredient for an author to qualify for the program was to have a manuscript which had a valuable concept which needed to be shared in a book. The writing style and level of writing skills were also evaluated by the computer program. It would not be possible for a two year old to write a bestseller, but it would be possible for anyone with some writing skill and creativity to become a bestselling author. Any writer with an idea he or she believed in and was passionate about could with the help of the million dollar book deal generator be offered a million dollar contract by a publisher.

A ready-made production, Marketing, Advertising and book distribution system was outlined, planned and developed by the team, thus making the whole process from start to finish completely automated.

The magic starts to happen, within forty-eight hours of the launch of the Million Dollar Book deal Generator software. Our servers nearly crash with the traffic to our websites. The software is going like hotcakes. The success stories start to come in, within two days. Authors are putting their old novels and manuscript typed notes on topics, into folders, with simple instructions to the software to create either fiction or non-fiction materials for publications. Within an hour of the software scanning a folder, a document is produced within the cast-iron framework of the program for the Fiction or Non-Fiction Bestseller.

Authors and would-be-authors are giving the software a trial run, as they furiously type in their materials.

There are no rivals in this field. Someone tried to create an Instant Bestseller Generator but that did not work out. It seemed for now that there was no competition for the Million Dollar Book Deal Generator.

Shelly, the members of the team and I were elated with our success.

However, we could not rest on our laurels. We needed to keep our minds and ears on the lookout for any new generators or competitors coming into the book publishing marketplace.

SWAMP was a large international marketplace of all products and services. SWAMP was the biggest store which sold and traded in a diversity of products. There was no competition in the field of selling and publishing which could compete with SWAMP.

The News sensation of the Million dollar book deal Generator was published in all the leading newspapers in the country and worldwide. The people behind SWAMP were now worried about the rapid progress of the Instant Million dollar book deal generator.

Jeremy Butler was a young twenty year old Author, who bought the Instant Million Dollar Book Deal Generator. He always wanted to be an author. He worked as a Gardener from an early age and took care of his two younger siblings after his Father passed away. His mother Julia had disappeared one day and never returned home, when Jeremy turned eighteen. Jeremy always hoped that he would have enough money to search for his mother. It was now two years since his mother had walked out of his life.

The Instant book deal generator was a great creation. Jeremy now had to complete his novel and then submit it through the Instant Book Deal Generator website online. Somehow, Jeremy was not confident that his novel was good enough. It was a novel about a young artist, who discovers hidden treasures then he later has an accident and forgets where he had kept the treasure. The novel was going to be called, “Treasured Art”.

Jeremy was waiting to save up enough money to attend one of the “Book Deal Generator Coaching Classes,” which would focus on what made a book worthy of getting a Million Dollar Book Deal, regardless of being fiction or non-fiction.

He attended to all the gardens in his neighbourhood, during the day and he wrote his novel during the afternoons. In the evenings, he visited his girlfriend Asha, who he had known since he was in College.

Jeremy publishes his book using the generator.

He later starts to do a book based on the SWAMP company. The couriers of evil left their evil imprints wherever they went. SWAMP was on a mission to destroy the creativity in society. Jeremy does his research on the company and two months later he disappears without a trace.

Richard Foxxen is approached by Asha, Jeremy’s girlfriend who informs him that he has disappeared and the police are unable to locate him.

Richard gets a private investigator, the best in his field to track down Jeremy. He later informs Richard that Jeremy was kidnapped and is believed to be a hostage in an assassin training ground called a Marshland in South America.

After two months of torture Jeremy escapes and is not heard of for a long period of time.

Richard got up early in the morning and he had time to read the local newspaper before going to work. The front page had the large coloured photograph of a building on fire. The fire started in the night with firemen trying to put out the fire. “Library Burns As Fire Fighters Battle the Flames,” was the headline on the front page.

Richard looks at one of the Fire-Fighters fighting the blaze and he seems to look familiar.

Shelly has the television switched on and the morning news is being read by the newsreader.

The news with footage about the library fire is being shown.

The fire-fighter at the front of the flames keeps fighting the fire bravely and does look like a person Richard had seen before. Yes, he was right, Richard thinks to himself, it is him and he also seems to lean to one side, almost as if he had a slight limp. There is a close up shot of the fire-man, as he turns to the camera to speak to signal to the man behind him to move forward into the blaze.

Yes, the fire-fighter is the same young man, the one who had rescued the teenage girl who was about to commit suicide by jumping off a building.

At the end of the news report, the Fire Marshall is interviewed and he narrates how he heard about the fire, by a mysterious phone caller in the middle of the night.

He also said that the Fire department was short staffed as it was close to the Christmas season, he had the help of a lot of local volunteers. It was thanks to the efforts of the local young men and women that the “Wayfarer Library” was saved.

Nothing is mentioned about the mysterious young man in the news or in the newspaper who was at the forefront battling the fiery tongues of flames as they devastated a section of the library.

Richard could not help thinking that he needed to speak to this mysterious young man who had a habit of saving places and rescuing people. He always seemed to be at the right place and at the right time to rescue people from harm.

Maybe this young man could be part of his plan to help him to bring down SWAMP Richard thought to himself?

It was now Richard’s intention to find this young hero and to request him to join him in his mission to save the world of independent authors from being destroyed by the gigantic world of professional publishing mammoths like SWAMP.

It was obvious that the young man loved books and it was also possible that he was not yet working for SWAMP. The evil organization was destroying the world of publishing slowly but surely, in their effort to curtail, manipulate and control the freedom and creativity of the printed word.


Review Mask of Evil





I am naked, cold and wet, where am I and who am I?

The road was wet and the rain was still pouring down on the car as the young blond nurse Eva Torres, was returning back home after doing a twelve hour shift at the hospital.

Eva had been driving for half an hour, she sipped the cup of coffee she had at the side, as the lively music played in her car. She wanted to get home soon and she just wanted to rest.

She was tired after all the cases she attended to that day which seemed like it would never end. The one delivery case that she could not get out of her mind was the young pregnant mother who gave birth to an unusual looking baby. The child seemed like a cross between a human and an extra-terrestrial.

The newborn baby had deep green coloured skin, with strange looking almost elfin features, with unnaturally large pointed ears.

I thought the baby even smiled at me, thought Eva amused.

She suddenly saw a large flash of lightning, which was followed by a loud explosion. It was then that she saw something on the road which made her freeze.

What was that mound in the middle of the road?

It was moving.

The car was getting closer.

The person, it looked like a man, he was right in the middle of the highway.

Eva had to stop, she could not avoid him.

She was going to stop the car and phone the hospital, she had to help this poor man.

Eva gets out of the car, it is still raining heavily. The rain beats down rhythmically onto the road, the car and on the two people in the middle of the road.

She hears the flapping of wings, she looks up and she gets startled as a large bird or bat-like creature flies closely past her almost hitting her across the face with its large wings.

She walks up to the man, who looks unconscious.

“Hello, can you hear me?” she asks him.

“Yes, yes, I can hear you, please help me,” he says.

“Can you walk?”, Eva asks him.

She looks at him and notices that he is bruised on his face and severely injured on his shoulders. He can barely move his legs. He must have bruised his legs as well from the impact of the fall. It was as if the man was just thrown out onto the highway or like he was just thrown to Earth.

Eva tried to phone on her mobile, but she could not get connected to the hospital.

“It must be the rain, which has even spoiled my phone. I cannot ring the hospital.”

“Please don’t take me to the hospital,” he told her.

“But, you need someone to look at your wounds, let me get you out of the rain.”

He put his arm around her neck, as she helped him onto his feet. He struggled to get up. They moved slowly towards the car.

Eva could see that the man was weak, he was muscular and about six feet tall, naked, with water dripping off his body like waves.

The sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance, gradually getting nearer.

The police were on their way she thought to herself or on some other police business.

“Lady, please get me out of here soon, there will be too many explanations needed, if I am still here.”

“Okay,” said Eva, as she closed the doors of the car and drove away just in time before the police cars arrived at the scene of the stranger’s arrival.

She handed the wounded stranger a long coat and a thick blanket she kept in the car, to cover and dry his body.

He does not remember who he is. He looks like a lost child. He is lost in the woods and he needs to find his way out, she thought to herself.

Back home, a big brown friendly cocker spaniel comes to meet Eva and her guest at the door. The dog is friendly. Eva makes the tall stranger lie down on the sofa in the living room.

She attends to the stranger, cleaning his wounds. She gives him a set of clothes to wear, her father’s clothes, which she never got rid of after he passed away two years ago. She showed the stranger to the bathroom where he could bathe and slip into a change of clothes.

The clothes she kept of her father’s were just reminders of him, the care and concern he had for her, for all the years of her life. It was just her way of holding on to the memory of her dear father. He brought her up single-handedly, after her mother walked out of the door when she was six and never returned.

Her father was a dedicated police officer, and so he would get into a lot of close calls while he was doing his job. It was Eva who would take care of him when he returned home and she would nurse him back to health. She liked taking care of people, which was the main reason that she became a nurse, as well as the added bonus of watching injured and broken people heal and get back on their feet once again, ready to take on the world.

“What’s your name, stranger? My name is Eva”.

“I can’t remember.”

“We’ll call you Henry for now,” said Eva with a smile.

Eva still wore her nurse’s uniform, she had no time to change attending to Henry, this man somehow mattered to her she felt.

There was a knock on the door. The dog is the first to rush to the door barking. The rain had not yet lessened, it was still raining heavily, with flashes of lightning lighting up the summer sky, like a fireworks display.

“I wonder who that could be?” said Eva walking towards the door.

She turned to Henry and said, “We’ll just say that you are my cousin Henry who is visiting me from out of town.”

“Hi, Olivia,” said Eva opening the door to see her neighbour standing in the rain with a pink umbrella and with a pack of food in her hand. It was common for Olivia the nice Swedish neighbour to visit during the evenings to have dinner with Eva. Olivia had made this a habit over the last few months.

“Hi Eva who is your friend? Will you not introduce me?” says the pretty blond girl.

“I’m sorry, Olivia meet my cousin Henry,” said Eva turning to the wounded man lying on the sofa, “He had an accident, when he went for a walk to the park this evening. He lost his way coming back home and slipped into a ditch in the pouring rain. I was really shocked to see Henry walking back in the rain, when I was returning from work. We need to get you a mobile phone, so that you can contact me if you are in trouble, Henry”, said Eva turning to the injured man on the sofa.

“I’m Olivia and I’m pleased to meet you. I come back home early from work. I work in the primary school down the road,” says the tall young Swedish girl, “would you like a bowl of soup?”, she asks the stranger.

“Yes, I would. That’s a good idea.”

“Henry, just rest here a while and we will get some dinner ready. I will go and change out of these wet clothes,” said Eva switching on the television. The news was on.

“Henry, that’s a nice name, you look a lot like that actor who acted as Superman a few years ago,” said Olivia with a warm smile, as she sat on the sofa opposite Henry and opened a packet of sandwiches which she offered Henry.

Henry was famished and he greedily started to eat the sandwiches as if he had not eaten in days.

Olivia leaves the home of Eva and as she walks into the car, her mobile phone rings.

“Yes,” she says, “the Eagle has landed and he is being cared for by Eva.”

She listens to the voice at the other end of the phone, nods her head and says seriously, “Yes, we will wait a few days…yes, I will be careful.”

That night Henry is cold as he lies on the sofa in Eva’s living room.

Henry is passing in and out of consciousness. He looks out of the window which is illuminated by the light of the moon and the lightning and he suddenly sees a shadowy figure possibly that of a woman looking in through the window. But he thinks it must be his imagination and his fevered brain which is causing him to see things.

The nurse looks at Henry lying on the sofa and sees him shivering.

Eva decides to keep him warm. She does not know this man but somehow, she seems to trust him and she has a feeling that they share a connection. Eva is a good judge of character, especially after twenty years of working in the hospital and coming into contact with people from all walks of life. Eva sensed that this man she had saved that night was a special person.

Eva lies down beside Henry to warm his cold body, as they lie together on the sofa.

The next day Eva goes to work at the hospital.

Henry leaves the home with the pet dog on a leash.

He walks into a park. He observes the children playing, the joggers exercising around the park, the other dog owners walking their dogs through the beautiful green park. There is peace and contentment in the air.

Henry smiles to himself.

He has so many questions. Who is he and why is he here?

All this does not seem familiar to him. This world is quite different from the one which he has left, he thinks to himself. However, he still does not remember who he is and where he has come from. He looks again at the strange marks at the center of both palms of his hands.

The symbols resemble flames, they are unusual, he had tried to rub the prints off but these marks seem determined to stay on his body.

He remembers having seen other strange markings on his body.

Some of the markings resemble objects like there is one of a rod, a cloak and round circles.

Maybe these are his birthmarks or the shadows of tattoos he had removed years ago.

He looks at his watch and notices that time has flown while he was lost in his silent reverie, only interrupted by the sounds of children playing happily in the park and the sounds of dogs barking as they scamper around playfully, happy to be out in the open once again.

The dog walks him back home. It was a case of the dog leading the owner back home.

Henry continued to stay with Eva. She was a very kind hostess.

It was Eva’s day off on Saturday, so she decided to take Henry to the local market to do shopping and to see a movie before returning home.

“Henry, what would you like to have for dinner tonight,” said Eva with a smile as they moved the trolley down the shopping aisle.

“I enjoy your spaghetti dish,” said Henry.

“Yes, I’ll make that for tonight,” said Eva. She was happy that the two of them got on so well together. She had had previous relationships which ended badly for her.

“Hi, Eva, how are you and who is your friend?” said a petite young brunette, who was also doing her shopping.

“This is Henry. Henry meet Sandy, she and I would work together at the local Cafe, the Golden Spoon.”

“Hi Henry, I’m pleased to meet you,” said Sandy.

“What have you been up to Sandy? Are you still at the Cafe?”, said Eva.

“Yes, I’m still working there. Are you working anywhere Henry? We need someone to work at the Cafe. You remember the lazy lout who worked at the cafe? You may remember him, it was Jim who left last week.”

“Thanks, Sandy, yes, a job would be great,” said Henry.

“I’ll bring Henry over to the Cafe on my way to work,” said Eva.

“Catch up with you later,” said Sandy as she moved away with her shopping trolley.

That night as Henry was getting ready to go to sleep, he saw a shadowy figure standing near the front of the house.

He looked again and there was no one there.


Henry gets a job working at the Golden Spoon Cafe. He has to serve tea and coffee to customers, as well as prepare breakfast in the kitchen.

There are three other people working in the Cafe with Henry.

Two of the staff members Alicia and Sandy agree with Henry and show him the ropes of working in the Cafe. It is the Cafe Manager Jake who seems to have an issue with Henry.

“Hey Henry” says Jake the Manager who is stocking the fridge with soft drinks, “would you take the garbage bags out from the kitchen, they have been there for the last hour?”

“Yes, Jake, I’ll do it now.”

“Then you need to clean the windows, which are really looking filthy after the rain and storm we had here last week,” said Jake gruffly.

“But, Jake, I wiped all the windows last evening,” said Sandy.

“Yes you did and that does not change the fact that it rained again last night and more dirt has stuck to the glass,” said Jake in an angry tone of voice.

“I’ll do that Jake,” said Henry taking out the trash bags through the large blue door in the kitchen leading out to the back of the cafe, where the garbage vats were lined up.

After disposing of the five large bags, Henry took up a bucket and filled it with water and started to clean the windows of the old place.

The windows were wiped the previous evening by Sandy, Jake thought to himself and here he was re-cleaning the windows, maybe Jake wanted the windows to become sunlight reflectors or perhaps he did not like the fact that Alicia and Sandy got on so well with him.

Then yet again, according to what Alicia had told him, it seemed that Jake and Eva were an item a couple of years ago and he did not like it when she broke up with him, due to his alcoholism.

Jake was a violent man and he had also been in prison for six months for assaulting a customer who questioned him about an item on the day’s menu. It seemed that the customer told him that the breakfast served that morning was stale and the two fried eggs were cold.

No one wanted to get on the wrong side of Jake. He was a stocky man about six feet four inches and looked like a lumberjack, with his broad chest and large hands. The man would have been more comfortable chopping wood than serving breakfast at the Cafe.

No one wanted to annoy Jake, especially when Jake did not like you or when he was jealous of the man he had just employed who was living with his ex-girlfriend. Jake was now having an affair with Sandy but he never got over Eva.

On his way to work one morning Henry saw a poster of a missing person. A person was abducted and the posters can be seen all around the town. “Man carried away by Raven,” was the title of the poster, with a photo of the man, whose name was Brad Fergus. Brad was a slim bespectacled man, who must have been feather-weight to get carried off by a bird, even a large one.

Eyewitnesses say that they saw a large raven carry away the person.

It was not a hoax as Alicia, the forty something woman, who worked at the Cafe, knew the man’s sister Julie who worked at the hairdresser on Brite street.

“Brad worked in the Post Office,” said Alicia, he was walking back home on Saturday evening, when Margery saw him being attacked by two large raven looking birds and one of the birds carried poor Brad off, as he screamed for help.”

“Wasn’t there anyone else around who could have helped him?” asked Sandy.

“Everyone must have been enjoying Saturday evening at the local club,” said Jake gruffly, as he walked into the room.

The world was a strange place thought Henry to himself. Nothing could be stranger than the fact that he suddenly appeared on the highway and he was lucky that Eva was driving back home after work and spotted him and came to his aid.

Henry was cleaning the windows of the cafe, when suddenly everything blacked out and he could not move. This was now becoming a frequent occurrence.

Henry cannot work as he seems to suddenly go into a trance-like state without any warning signs when it is about to occur.

The trance states come and go quite frequently.

Jake did not like this and he started complaining to Eva when she reached Henry at work the next morning.

“Our man Henry here, goes into a daze and watches the planets,” said Jake, “He will have to leave if this continues, Eva. I only gave this Joker a job because I know you.”

“Just keep him for a few more days, till I get him another job. I am sure that he has been through a lot and his mind needs to heal. His body healed but his mind needs more time,” said Eva forcefully, as she dropped Henry off at the Cafe and carried on to her job at the hospital.

It is now three months since Henry has been living in this quiet Town of Quakenville with Eva and working at the local Cafe.

Henry does work, but not all the time. It seems that he gets distracted and is lost in his own world. This has been an issue with Jake the owner of the place. Eva is always given an earful, when she comes to reach Henry to work every morning.

A lady keeps watching Henry as he sits in a trance looking at the skies. She watches from her black car. She is a pretty looking woman, with her long flowing black hair and penetrating gaze. She seems to know something about Henry as she watches him intently. The lady in the car does not notice a policeman walk up to the car.

“Miss would you move your car please, this is not a spot to park.”

“Sorry, Officer,” says the young woman as she drives her car away.

As the car passes the Cafe, she cannot help but look once more at Henry with concern.

Eva collects Henry in the evening on her way back home. Eva is tired after her day at work and does not notice an animal cross her path. As Eva hits hard on the brakes at the last minute, the car skids and moves to the side of the road.

“Eva, are you okay?,” asks Henry who is sitting in the front seat.

“I’m fine,” says Eva, “Just a bit shaken. I did not see that fox cross my path earlier, until the last second. I definitely need a cup of coffee.”

Eva gets the car back on the road and drives back home. In the distance the car can be seen.

The mysterious lady follows them back home in her car. She parks her car behind bushes and sits in the car for awhile.

Later that evening after Eva has gone to bed. The lady with the dark hair and an air of mystery about her walks to the window of the house. She looks in and she observes Henry sketching images on sheets of paper. He seems to be doing it all while he is in a trance. The lady goes to the side of the house, where there is an open window.

The room is in darkness only lit by the light of the moon. She sees a desk near the window, with a number of papers of sketches done by Henry. She crawls into the room through the window and picks up a stack of these sketches.

She climbs out of the window just in time, before Henry walks into the room and switches on the lights and places his fresh stack of paper with sketches on the desk, closes the open window and goes up to the bedroom. He snuggles into bed with Eva who is already asleep. Eva wakes up and they make love before cuddling up together and falling into a deep sleep together.

The next morning as Eva goes to the desk to pick up her file for work, she notices a pile of sketches done by Henry the previous night.

“Henry you did some more sketches last night,” asked Eva.

“I really don’t remember, are they any good?” asks Henry.

Henry has no memory of all the sketches which he has created.

“Yes, some of them look good, they are filled with a lot of signs and symbols. These ones here have illustrations of swords and winged bats. I wonder what all these strange designs symbolise? Perhaps we could also have an exhibition of your sketches someday” asks Eva.

“My drawings aren’t that good. I’ve no idea what they all mean darling. Maybe we should show it to an expert.”

“Yes, I could do that, we have a consultant Psychologist, Doctor Charles Hawes who visits the hospital twice a month. I will take a few of these and show it to him,” says Eva, putting the ten or twelve drawings into her work folder. They drive off to work.

A few days later Henry loses his job at the Diner. Henry is depressed and confused with his life. Eva is worried about him.

One day Eva comes back home from shopping to find that he is not at home. Henry walked out of the house that day. Eva takes the car and asks one of the neighbours an old lady called Rose if she saw him leave as she did her gardening.

“Yes, I did see Henry walking by, he seemed to be in his own world and did not notice me. He could have gone to the beach,” said Rose. Eva goes to the harbour and finds Henry sitting at the edge of the jetty, with no memory as to how he got there.

Henry keeps getting more and more depressed. Henry starts getting irritable and angry just staying at home. He tells Eva that he somehow feels imprisoned and that he needs to find his purpose. He feels that he is wasting his life.

Eva is worried that something has happened to Henry. She has fallen in love with him and wants to help him to discover his identity. Eva decides that it is about time, that she gets a detective to find out who Henry is and where he has come from.

Eva had checked the news reports and the web to find out if Henry was in any photographs as a missing person. She was unsuccessful.

Henry took the dog out for a walk on a Saturday afternoon. The dog returned home, still on his leash, but without Henry.

Later that day Henry is dropped off at Eva’s door. She hears a knock on the door and sees Henry standing at the doorway with a blank expression on his face. She sees a black car drive away. Eva wonders to herself why the stranger who brought Henry back home did not wait to be thanked. She was getting worried and was about to take the car out again and check the park and the cafes near the beach.

Henry takes the dog out for a walk when it is just turning to dusk. On his way back home, he suddenly hears a growl behind him. A wolf-like animal starts to chase Henry down the road.

The wolf is hot on their heels.

Henry and the cocker spaniel run for their lives.

Henry and Benji just run into the gates leading into the house and shut the door, both shaking and scared from the experience.

Henry looks around and he is surprised to see that there is no one behind him. There is no wolf, there is no such animal or was it just his vivid imagination?

“Benji, did you see the animal chasing us?” asks Henry, “Of course you can’t tell me, you are just a dog,” says Henry with a smile.

As Henry shuts the door and walks into the room he gets a horrible smell in the air.

He moves to where the scent is coming from and is shocked to find three dead rabbits, butchered and bloodied at the center of the living room.

He has to clean up the mess before Eva returns from work.

He does not want to scare Eva about all these strange and scary occurrences he has been experiencing.

He may need to leave the house and stay somewhere else.

Henry does not want to put Eva in any danger, from anything coming after him from his past.

He only wishes he knew who he was and who was coming after him?


It is early evening, it is dark outside. Henry is sitting at the large windows overlooking the garden. The lights are off in the room. There is a small dim light shining over the sketch book, in which he is doing his sketches. He ran out of loose sheets of paper, so Eva got him a proper sketch book. Henry’s trance-like state is broken when he suddenly catches a glimpse of three shadowy figures opening the gate and creeping along the garden. The sprinklers in the garden have come on automatically.

Two of the figures move towards the front door.

He can now hear them trying to force the door open with a key. The door knob keeps moving as they try to break in.

The other burglar is opening the window at the side of the house. The street lights are a couple of meters away from the house, so the area in front is dark. It was almost impossible to enter the home from the back, as there was a dense growth of vegetation, on the other side of the backyard.

Henry is now worried, what should he do if they enter? He is not armed.

He has nothing to defend himself. It would be foolish to approach the men without any form of weapon in hand. Henry is now more nervous than afraid. He is undecided about how to handle this situation and how to react to these intruders entering his home.

Henry drops the stack of papers which he has on his desk while going for his mobile phone, to phone the police, when he notices something strange. It seems that the drawings which he has done on the blank sheets of paper come alive. The cube which he had drawn comes out of the paper in a three-dimensional form and grows larger and larger surrounding him.

It seems that the crooks are not successful in opening the door to the house, so they decide to break the glass section of the door, in order to enter.

As the glass gets pounded from the outside, Henry decides to phone the police or just raise an alarm.

Henry will use the element of surprise on the criminals.

He switches on all the lights in the house.

The men are now about to enter. The third man is getting in through the window. All the men are armed, two with guns and one with a knife.

The stars which he had sketched on paper seem to rise from the white sheets of paper and move towards the door and the windows, through which the thieves are climbing through. The man at the door instinctively throws his knife aimed at Henry. The knife bounces off the large force-field of the cube in which Henry is standing and falls to the floor.

The spinning electrically charged stars which are like hazy forms of light, strike the other two criminals and they fall to the floor in an electrocuted state, unable to move, scream or escape.

Henry phones Eva at work, after phoning the police.

The police are surprised when they arrive at the house. Eva is equally surprised when she sees the criminals on the floor, with shocked expressions on their faces, unable to move or to speak. They have to be lifted out of the house by the officers. The men look like they are frozen.

“Sir, what did you do to these men?” asks Officer Davis a tall African man with a thin moustache.

At that instant a loose wire from the side of the room, comes off the wall and a portion of the plaster breaks and the wire falls to the floor sparking away.

“Definitely, a loose wire, must have caused them to get electrocuted,” said Henry.

“Yes, it certainly looks that way,” said another policeman who was photographing the scene of the crime.

Eva phoned her friend’s husband Andrew who was a carpenter and he was at home fixing the broken glass on the door and the broken window hinges.

Once the police and the carpenter leave Eva speaks to Henry about what really happened. He finds it hard to explain.

“So what really happened Henry and how did you manage to incapacitate those three men. I hope that you didn’t do anything foolish,” said Eva with concern.

“I admit I was nervous, because I didn’t know what to do. I thought of throwing some of the paper-weights which I have on the desk here”, said Henry picking up a snow-globe.

“I’ll need to get some alarms fitted into the house. This neighbourhood is not safe, not like when my parents were living here forty years ago.”

“I’ll tell you what happened. It was almost magical. You know the sketches which I do when I go into a trace. Those sketches seemed to come alive on their own as if by magic. The sketches fell to the floor by accident. The sketch of the cube became a shield which protected me from the knife while the stars I had drawn became three dimensional stars which hit the thieves coming in through the windows.”

“Here, ” said Eva, “take these papers with your illustrations and show me if they come to life now.”

“I don’t think it works that way, “said Henry as he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate to make the stars, circles, cubes and triangles come to life.

Eva kept watching the sheets with the abstract art as Henry tried his hardest to concentrate.

“Maybe it was just your imagination,” said Eva.

“I hope that I’m not losing my mind. I cannot remember who I am and now I could be even losing my marbles,” said Henry.

“I don’t think you are,” said Eva,” come let’s have dinner and make sure to check all the doors and windows before we tuck in tonight.”

Crime in the city has been increasing. The local newspaper of the area is constantly reporting the rise of crimes.

Old age pensioners are being attacked in their homes.

The story of violence in the neighbourhood is spreading like a virus to all cities all over the world.

Every life, in every city, in very neighbourhood is being affected by the story of violence, as the forces of evil shroud humanity in its mantle of darkness.

It was a Friday night, the time when every family gets ready to rest in front of the television after a busy week of work.

Eva and Henry suddenly hear a noise outside on the street opposite their home. It is the sound of a woman screaming for help. It seems to be a mugging in progress.

“Eva, should we do something to stop this crime which is happening just outside our home?” asks Henry.

“It would be dangerous for you to go out and face the attacker. On the other hand we need to do something. I will phone the police and inform them that there is a woman being attacked on the street,” said Eva.

“I’ll go out to see if I can scare the attacker away,” said Henry.

“Take something with you, maybe a stick,” said Eva.

They could hear a woman scream in the darkness and it was distinct in the stillness of the night.

Henry did not wait, he could not wait, he picked up a large stick of wood from the side of the door, it was an old piece of wood and he rushed out of the house swinging it in his hand.

He ran across the street in his pajamas, to the spot where he saw a masked man attacking a woman.

The man had a knife in his hand. The woman’s blouse was ripped and she lay on the floor in a pool of blood. The woman was injured in her stomach and she was bleeding. He hoped that the ambulance would arrive to save the poor woman.

The mugger turned around, with his knife and ran towards Henry, who just managed to side-step out of the way but he was slashed across his chest as the mugger raced away into the darkness. Henry just about managed to swing the wooden piece of wood and give the masked man who was about six feet tall a glancing blow on the back of his head and across the back of his right shoulder. The man shrugged it off like it was a fly attacking him.

Luckily the woman was not seriously wounded. The slash on the side of her stomach was not too deep. She was attended to by the medics who arrived at the scene of the crime and she would be out of danger soon. The man had tried to rape the young woman who was on her way back home after working late.

Henry was happy that he had prevented the crime from having a tragic outcome. The young woman could have lost her life. He was happy that he had come to her assistance.

The police arrived and took statements from the victim and from Henry. The woman whose name was Kendra thanked Henry for coming to her aid and she thanked Eva for calling the police and the ambulance. The police detective James Richards also thanked Eva for calling them and Henry for trying to do something about the crime they saw. Though they told him that it was a foolish thing to approach the attacker on his own and he should not attempt such a foolish stunt in the future.

Eva was really upset with Henry for risking his life, though she knew that it was the only way they could have saved the girl’s life.

On their way to the supermarket, Eva and Henry see that there has been yet another burglary in the neighbourhood.

The small jewellery store around the corner from the house was robbed. The shutters are smashed, the door was broken and all the display cabinets in the jewellery store are empty.

“The jeweller of the store will be at a terrible loss,” says Eva.

“The police have arrived,” said Henry, as he saw detective James Richards with his team searching the area for evidence and photographing the scene of the crime.

“It’s a good thing old man Jarvis was not in the store, nor was his wife Mabel.”

“They usually close at five, so the crooks decided to wait and rob the store and hour later,” said Henry.

That night as they watch the local news on Television, Henry seems to notice something extra-ordinary happening on the screen, as the news is being reported about the increase in crime and violence in the city. The police are in a panic as there are not enough police on the force to put an end to the crime spree.

Henry is not just seeing the news, he seems to be watching a little more and he is puzzled.


When Henry watches the news on television he can see the crime occurring on the television screen at the same time.

The footage literally shows Henry the crime in progress.

The faces are hazy, but he can see a lot of details.

He decides to tell Eva about this strange occurrence. Was it a type of power he now possessed?

“Eva, I’ve been watching the news with you in the evenings. But something weird has been happening,” said Henry.

“Is the news making you feel depressed, most of the news they show nowadays is depressing?” asks Eva with concern “which is why I’ve often told you not to watch the news. Your mind needs time to heal and watching all these disturbing news reports is not going to help in your recovery.”

“No, Eva, my mind is fine. I’ve been watching the crimes in progress, while the news is going on. The scene which I see is in negative form and keeps repeating. It seems to be a recording of the event which is trapped in the air and keeps repeating it, like a tape which has got jammed, in an old tape recorder. The scene returns to the beginning, plays to the end and then does a re-run again of the event. However, as the images are hazy, maybe I’ll be able to see more once I get used to using this skill”

“That’s a great ability to have, it is better that you don’t tell anyone about it, or they could think that you were involved in the crimes. With all these crimes happening in our neighbourhood, it’s hard to trust anyone.”

“I know this is a great ability, but it can be a curse as well, I guess,” says Henry, not sure whether he should be happy or sad about this new skill which he has discovered.

Henry visits the small marketplace to do his shopping.

Henry is buying fruits, when a small group of young men walk up to the stall and take apples, oranges, bananas and walk away without paying. There is suddenly a skirmish in the square and he hears a quarrel in progress. A group of young men and the stall owner of fruits get into an argument.

“Excuse me, young men,” says Henry, “you all need to pay for the fruits.”

“Are you the owner of this stall?”, asks the leader of the group a young man with brown curly hair who stands tall at about six feet.

“I’m the owner of the stall and I just want them to pay for the fruits they have taken,” said the owner of the stall an elderly gentleman as he stands watching nervous and afraid, he knew what these ruffians were like. He had allowed them to take the fruits without objecting before, as did most of the vendors in the marketplace.

“Bob, let’s go, ” said one of the younger men in the group.

“No, this guy needs to be taught a lesson, that he can’t interfere with us or stop us from taking what we want, this is after all our neighbourhood,” said the leader of the group.

Bob was not going to go without punching this loud mouthed man had the audacity to ask him to pay.

Bob, started to punch Henry and though Henry tried to deflect the blows, he was no match for this tall strapping young man.

Henry falls to the floor, his face is cut and his arm is bleeding.

The youth next hits Henry over the head and he falls onto the dusty road unconscious.

The shopkeepers call for the ambulance and the police. He is badly injured in the fight and has to be taken to the hospital. The police arrive and ask for witnesses to the crime.

However, no one is prepared to say that they saw anything happen, due to the repercussions it could have on them and their families.

Henry is unconscious for ten days and he is attended to in the hospital. Eva visits him every day, but he does not know that she is there. Henry is in a comatose state in the hospital bed.

But, Henry is not asleep.

His mind is in a state of high activity.

He gets flashbacks of his past.

I have entered a sort of dream world.

I can see images from my past, the present and the future.

I see dragons, I see angels, I see demons, I see fantastic creatures, I see flying carpets, magicians, lanterns, secret manuscripts, I see the landscape of story come alive before my eyes.

I also see a man who seems to control all the stories around him. The stories seem to come alive when he narrates the stories.

This man seems familiar to me perhaps I had met him before.

“Who are you?” asks Henry.

“I’m the Storyteller,” says the mysterious man.

Every character, every scene, every plot and every storyline of the story seems to be created, developed, manipulated, then re-created into moving stories of power plays across universes of time and space.

The Storyteller sees Henry standing at the edge of a precipice of a stormy mountain. There are fierce gales blowing all around. The winds seem to want to throw Henry off the precipice into the gaping and bottomless chasm below him.

The Storyteller stands across from where Henry is, he looks unperturbed by what is happening around him. He seems to be so confident.

The Storyteller a man of medium built with a narrow face and short hair, dressed in a blue suit and wearing a cape of dark blue, looks calmly at Henry.

“Don’t worry, whatever you see around you, is all part of this story,” which you have created.

“How did I create this story?” asks Henry puzzled.

“You have undergone an experience in your life, which has resulted in the creation of this story.”

“Can you change this story?”, asks Henry

“I can change this story and so change the outcome,” says the mysterious Storyteller.

“Change this story, I think I want to live in another story,” shouts Henry above the noise of the winds which have increased in sound and ferocity.

“You must change this story, by creating another story. Close your eyes and see yourself in another story,” says the mysterious Storyteller.

Henry closes his eyes and tries to see himself in another story.

However, he cannot believe that wishing he was in another story would change the outcome of this story.

Henry can feel the force of the winds on his face and his body is getting colder in the freezing gales.

Henry shuts his eyes for a brief instant and then he opens them again.

To his horror he is lifted off the edge of the precipice by the cold icy fingers of the winds and swept into the air. It is then a non-stop drop into the dark chasm which lies below him.

He screams in horror as he continues to fall deeper and deeper into the bottomless pit, as the howling winds rush past his frozen face and ears.

I look down on the hospital bed and notice the drawings which I have scrawled and I understand them now. These are all the symbols of story. These are all the tools which every Storyteller needs. I recognize the shapes on the sheets of paper and it all makes sense to me now. These were not random drawings they were my weapons and implements of story.

But, I must meet my Mentor to get trained in the art of using this arsenal to create and control my stories. These are the weapons, tools and symbols of the Storyteller. I need to find out what happened to me and to get onto the path to fulfil my destiny.

I now remember my name. My name is William Blade. I am a Storyteller or I used to be a Storyteller in another world, the world from which I have come. How is it that I do not have any powers in this world?

The staff at the hospital and the Doctor attending the now awakened patient are very excited that he made it out of the coma alive. They inform Eva who immediately comes over to the hospital that evening.

William is so excited to tell Eva the news when she comes to visit him.

“Henry, I’m so happy to see that you are now back with us. The Doctor is really happy for you,” says Eva.

“My name is William Blade and it seems that I’m a Storyteller.”

“That’s exciting,” says Eva, “what tall tale do you have to tell me today?”

“I had this sort of dream or maybe it was actually more like a nightmare and in it I met a man who could create stories and change any story at will. He said that he was a Storyteller, with the ability to control stories.”

“I’ll start calling you William from now on, or would you prefer Will?”, said Eva.

“William is fine.”

“The Doctor has informed me that you will be able to leave the hospital in two days, as they still need to monitor your progress,” said Eva.

“I’m feeling much stronger now, though my mind is just getting used to the idea of my new identity. Maybe more of my past memories will start coming back to me.”

“Yes, Doctor Viktor informed me that you should start remembering in a few months time. You will need to visit the hospital regularly till they are sure that you’re better.

“I’m so happy to know that you can come back home soon, Henry, I mean William. I guess it will take some time for me to get used to calling you William,” said Eva.

“Yes, it does feel familiar to me, now that I know that I’m a William and not a Henry. I quite like the vibe of William.”

After Eva leaves the hospital that night, William drops off to sleep.

William is having a dream where he can see himself being chased by formless creatures of the night. They fly behind him, the crawl behind him. He sees small tiny insects enlarging in size and becoming the size of a man’s face. Some of the creatures change in appearance and transform into more ghoulish forms. William is afraid at all these creatures torturing him as he walks through the memories of his dreams. He dreams about the past in countries in Europe in Spain, in France, in London and even in places in the Far East like Thailand and India.

William starts to have vivid dreams of murders taking place in front of him. He sees the killings happening through the eyes of the killer.

He sees the killings taking place through the eyes of the victims.

He is both the slayer and the slain in these stories which occur in his nightmares.

He hears a voice calling out to him and he gets a strange smell going up his nostrils, a strange and unfamiliar smell, the smell of danger.

“William, William, there is danger close to you, wake up from your slumber, danger is approaching, wake up William, wake up,” says a cautious voice in his mind.

He suddenly awakes from sleep when he gets the scent of a strange perfume in the room. The door opens, the light is switched on and a nurse enters the hospital room, she smiles and puts a tray of unappetizing food on the small table beside bed.

There seems to be something different about this nurse, thinks William to himself.

He can see the Nurse and it is Olivia, Eva’s friendly neighbour, yet he can see another form within the body of the possessed woman, it looks like a pink creature made out of smoke and it looks evil. He also notices the symbol of an Octopus on Olivia’s left wrist.

The Nurse Olivia suddenly takes out a syringe, with a green liquid in it and goes to stab William in the heart with the long pointed needle.


As the nurse comes towards him in the hospital with the syringe, he grabs the tray on the table at the side of the bed and hits the woman across the head with it.

The blow does not stop her and she gets off her feet and rushes towards him yet again with the syringe in her hand.

She leaps onto the bed and digs her right knee into his stomach, he screams in pain and as he drops to the floor, she raises the syringe above her ready to strike it into his head.

At that instant there is an inhuman shriek, he hears the sound of large wings flapping, there is a dark shadow in the room.

He suddenly sees a shadowy form, dragging the nurse from hell out of the room.

It is dark in the room and he cannot distinguish the features of the person taking the killer nurse Olivia out of the room, but it does look like a woman.

Once he recovers from his shock, he switches on the light, and looks around the room.

The room is a mess after the struggle with the nurse, but there is no other sign of the would-be killer.

William is feeling much stronger now, so he gets off the bed. He falls to the floor, as he had not used his legs for a few weeks now, so it will take him time to get used to walking and standing. He holds onto the bed and steadies himself.

He scans the room and then he drops to his knees and looks under the bed and sure enough, he sees the large syringe with the green liquid in it.

He picks up the syringe and puts it away in the drawer next to his bed and crawls back into bed.

He is tired after the exertion.

He did not imagine it happening after all. He wonders why no one came to help him with all the noise in his room.

A few minutes later a Nurse walks into the room.

“I don’t know what happened just now,” says the Head Nurse Geraldine, as she walks in the room to check up on William, “it seems that everyone on this floor had fallen asleep, as if they were drugged, including the staff at the hospital.”

“Maybe, there was something in the coffee,” said William with a laugh.

“Do you need anything,” and then looking around the room she says, “what happened here, it looks like there was a riot over here?”

“It was the cat from the first floor ward, the one that sits in the veranda near the Manager’s office, like a guard dog. It must have had a bad day, it came in looking for a mouse and then ended up, chasing its tail around the room,” said William laughing.

He had to hold his stomach which was paining after the attack.

Early next morning Eva came to the hospital to see William. She was very worried and concerned about the attack the previous night.

She spoke to the Doctor and the security staff on duty that night at the hospital, but there was no evidence of the “nurse” entering or leaving William’s room at the hospital.

All the corridors in the hospital had CCTV cameras, due to the increase in the number of crimes in the neighbourhood. There were an increased number of hospital admissions, in some cases it was the perpetrators of the crimes, who would get injured and then admit themselves into the hospital for medical attention. This was one of the main reasons, that the CCTV cameras were installed in almost every corner of the hospital and even on the grounds of the establishment.

Eva insisted that a security man check up on William at least once in the night. There were no further incidents that week.

A few days later, William was certified as fit and was released from the hospital. Eva picked him up from the hospital in her blue car.

William gets a job as a library-volunteer in the A. R. Knight Library in Quakenville a week later. He wants to find out who he is and so does a bit of research into his past and he checks the records section of the archives to see if there were any records in existence about the Storyteller.

He likes his work at the library, stacking shelves, stamping books, and entering into the new entries book register all the new arrivals. He works three hours a day and he does his research work on stories and storytellers to see if he can find any information.

While he is doing his research a young man walks up to him.

“Hi, my name is Dennis, I couldn’t help noticing that you are doing research into stories,” said the young man.

“Yes, it is personal research. I am trying to find out anything and just about everything I can on the history and the origins of story in the world.

“I would like to help you with your research, as I did a research paper on the history and origin of stories in the world I also enjoy hunting for information. I am studying to be a librarian.”

“That would be great,” said William.

“I couldn’t help noticing that you have the symbol of an open book on the back of your neck. Do you know what it means?”, says the young man called Dennis.

“No, I am trying to find out the meanings of the other marks on my body as well and I have quite a few cryptic designs.”

“The open book, with drawings of objects like a house, a tree, a man, a woman, an animal and stars and circles, represents the power of stories to bring worlds to life,” said Dennis.

“Wow, that’s an amazing interpretation of the open book tattoo,” said William.

“Do you have images of all the other designs?”

“Yes, I have scanned most of them. I will bring them to the library next week.”

“That would be fantastic. I will create a database of the images if you want. This would be a useful tool to help with the research.”

“Yes, that would be a great idea. I will give you a small amount of money as a research incentive for the work you will be assisting me with, if it is okay with you Dennis?”

“No, you don’t have to give me any money for this research work. It will be useful to me as part of my continued research into the role of the Storyteller and the power of story down the ages, from the beginning of mankind right through the 21st century to our time in 2070AD.”

“Would you like to have coffee sometime and we can discuss this project?” asked William.

“That would be cool,” said Dennis as he swung his long man-bag over his shoulder and walked off to the cafeteria. Dennis must have been in his late teens and he was very keen on doing research.

Perhaps he had found an ally to help him on his quest to find his destiny, thought William to himself.

That night William told Eva about the new friend he had made at the library.

“It seems like a good idea to have someone who is so experienced in doing research work to work with you in finding out more information about all those mysterious markings on your body,” said Eva.

“I thought so too,” said William, “and he seemed like a nice guy.”

“Perhaps you could invite him over to our place for dinner at some time in the future?” says Eva.

The couple sit down to have dinner that night.

After dinner they sit down to watch the news. The news covers a range of topics, most of which are the recent abductions of people in the city. The reports are filled with photographs of the people who were abducted. There was no particular type, but they were all types of people, from a baby to a teenage runaway, to a lawyer and even a murderer who was abducted from his prison.

That was a curious case because according to the eyewitness report, in this case it was the prison guard, who was present when the killer was taken right before his eyes. The guard was standing outside the prison cell. The prisoner was speaking to him and asking for a newspaper to read. The guard told the prisoner that he would get the newspaper for him the next morning.

At that moment there was a blast of bright light and the prisoner was gone from the cell, as if my magic.

The news reporter who was covering the story next showed the inside of the prison cell after having an interview with the guard.

“I can see a figure taking the prisoner from his cell,” said William.

“I can’t see anyone or anything but an empty cell,” said Eva.

“I can see a portal opening in the center of the cell, a figure with wings, it looks like a man dressed up like a raven, pulling the prisoner through,” said William.

“Are you sure, William, maybe it is just your vivid imagination,” said Eva.

“No, Eva, I’m quite sure that there was the figure of a raven-like man helping the prisoner to escape the prison cell.”

“What do you want to do? We cannot go to the police they will not believe you, because no one has ever seen such an incredible sight, which is in all honesty, hard to believe.”

“I know, Eva, it does sound pretty ridiculous, especially because there is no evidence. The prisoner disappeared in front of the man guarding the cell.”

“Eva, do you think we should go back to the spot where you found me, lying on the road?”

“Yes, we could go there tomorrow, it is about half an hour away,” said Eva.

Eva had a day off the next day, so the couple drove down to the spot in the car.

The whole area looked very different to William in daylight.

Eva and William took out photographs of the spot.

William walked towards the bushes close to the spot to try to see if there was anything which could give him a clue of sorts. All he did find were empty beer cans, cigarette packets and other trash, which was tossed out of passing cars on the highway.

There are no clues and they are about to walk away, when Eva notices that there are a clump of bushes which appear to be scorched with heat of some kind. The bushes look as if they were burnt in a fire.

The bushes which were burned were in the path of a trajectory which was in the path of where William landed on the road.

Eva took out a photo of the burned bushes and saw that between the bushes, she could see a tall tower in the background, some miles away.

Eva takes out more photos and they decide to leave the spot.

As they start to drive William notices that there is a car following them at a distance.

“Eva, I think that there is a black car following us. I may be wrong. Try slowing down and see if they pass us or if they still keep at a distance behind us.”

Eva slowed the car, she noticed that the other car slowed down as well, she decided to speed up the car and the other car followed in hot pursuit.

There were a lot of trucks moving on the road, so Eva had to manoeuvre the car between the large speeding trucks. The other car was close behind.

William looked back and saw the silhouette of a man driving the car.

The cars were racing now, they were moving close to the edge of the road, there was a sharp drop down to the river banks below.

Suddenly, the car chasing them was right behind them and the man was trying to push them off the road and over the side to the sharp drop below the side of the road.

This carried on for about five minutes. Eva was struggling to keep the car on the road, as the other larger car kept knocking their car from the back and was succeeding in pushing them to the side.

Eva lost control of the car as the black car hit theirs yet again and their car was pushed off the side of the road. The other car drove away. The damage was done.

The car swerved crazily and fell off the side of the road, and hurtled down the steep slope to the banks of the river.

The car tumbled and tumbled, as Eva and William were still strapped in.

With every somersault of the car William was hoping that the two of them would survive this ordeal.Abruptly, the car came to a halt in an upright position. The air bags had inflated.

William looked to see if Eva was okay, once he had recovered from the tumble.

Eva had a deep gash across her forehead, but she looked like she was okay.

Two people came to pull them out of the car.

The ambulance arrived. They were both taken to the hospital.

William lost consciousness once he was checked into the hospital and placed on the hospital bed. He saw Eva being attended to and he saw the attendants wheel her on a stretcher to another room. Eva was safe and that was a relief to him.

When he got up in the morning he needed to speak to Eva.

A nurse walked in to the room.

“Nurse, is Eva Torres okay and in which room is she now in, I need to speak to her, said William trying to get out of the bed.”

“Eva? There is no patient with that name, Sir, you were the only person to be admitted in to the hospital two weeks ago,” said the young blue-eyed nurse, whose name was Jane on her badge.

“But, that is impossible, it only happened yesterday, how can it be two weeks ago. Eva Torres my girlfriend was driving the car. I need to speak to someone about this. There has to be a mistake.”

A Doctor walked into the room hearing the commotion.

“Sir, you need to remain calm. What is happening here Nurse Jane?”, asked the Doctor a slim young looking man, who spoke with an Irish accent.

“Doctor, this gentleman seems to say that he was admitted into this hospital yesterday, with a lady called Eva who was driving the car, in which they had an accident.”

The Doctor opened his folder and read the details intently.

“According to this report filed two weeks ago, you were the only person driving the car, there was no one else found in the car, when the ambulance arrived. Here is the report, read it for yourself,” said the Doctor handing William the report.

William read the report in amazement. There was no mention of another person in the car.

He could not believe his eyes.

What had happened to Eva?

Did he imagine his whole experience with Eva?

Was his mind playing tricks on him again or was someone else controlling this story and was he just a mute puppet”

He had a lot of questions, which needed to be answered and he was not going to get any answers lying in this hospital bed.

Eva, where was Eva, the loving girlfriend he had, what would he do without her? he needed to find her, he was also sure that she was not a figment of his overactive imagination.

Make Writing and Publishing Your Career

Every writer can become a published author today.

My latest novel “Novel Killers” focuses on the world of Independent Publishing and Author entrepreneurs.

There are times when you may feel as an author that you are not getting the success you deserve. At those times remember the success stories of these Independent Authorpreneurs, who have made a career of writing and publishing their own work. If they can achieve success in publishing, what is stopping you?



Free Kindle Books on 3, 4 June

Download Free the following Amazon Kindle books by Warren Brown on the 3rd and 4th June.

Storyteller- Kraken Dawn

Storyteller- Diamond Deadly

Storyteller- Fiery Eyes



Inheritance Claim- Web of Souls


Face Value


Laura Attraction


Birthday Ritual




An Author’s Thought Monkey

Every author is so familiar with the feeling of disappointment when a brilliant idea is lost. You could have got a superb idea for a story or novel, you told yourself that you would write it down. However, before you know it you have lost that amazing idea.

Ideas are like thought monkeys which swing from tree to tree and if an idea is not captured, it will be lost for good.

It was in the Chinese Year of the Monkey, that I got an idea about a Thought Monkey. I wrote the story, “Monkey in Mind” and published it on Amazon Kindle.

It is time for you an as Author to capture your Thought Monkey. The only way to capture the agile monkey is to know how it moves, behaves and thinks.

The Creative Writer’s Nap

As a writer and an author there are moments when you know that you have a few more ideas to jot down before the end of the day, but you are feeling tired.

Those are the times when you need a quick nap to regain your alertness and complete that piece of creative writing you need to put down on the page.

Here is a List of the Benefits of the Creative Nap:

  1. reduce your blood pressure and minimize the risk of a heart attack.
  2. increase your sense of alertness 
  3. maximize your creativity
  4. reduce fatigue
  5. improve your overall mood
  6. improve your performance, reaction time and improve your memory.
  7. a ten to fifteen minute nap will put your brain back to its morning level of sharpness.
  8. a mid-afternoon nap around 2:00 or 3:00 pm will work wonders for you.

Remember to have that “creative nap” and reap the rewards of your creative genius in your work.

October Smashwords Offer

Avail of the Special October Book Offer on Smashwords.

The Books by Author Warren Brown are on a Special Low Price Offer for 1 Month Only.

Keys to the Parallel Universe

Free Sample 

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Reasons to Live

Free Sample 

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Immortal Mortals and other Short Stories

Free Sample 

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Avail of the Special October Book Offer on Smashwords.

The Books by Author Warren Brown are on a Special Low Price Offer for 1 Month Only.

Mixed Race Identity: Anglo-Indians

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Chrysalis: A Collection of Science Fiction Short Stories

Free Sample 

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Publica Authors and Cryptocurrency

There is a new online computer game in the city called Sillicon Blue, which is making gamers kill for Sillicoins, the crypto-currency generated in the game. Sam Harris is a policeman who wants to save the young people in his city. Will Sam be able to stop the game from taking over the minds and lives of young people, driven by anger, violence and greed?

Publica Official mentions the new story Sillicon Blue by fiction author WARREN bROWN.

Review Star Crystals




Human beings in the year 2064AD are valued by their Faces. This is based on a Global Face Index (GFI), which sets a person Face Value based on life experiences, trainings, skills, psychological and physiological attributes. What happens when the wrong people in society have the highest Face Value and only one man knows how to control the Face Value Index before the world is controlled by fanatics and the criminally insane in society?

The World of Face Values is the world of the future, a world of social influence and power. A face, your face is so much more than the first thing you see in the mirror every morning. Your face is literally your fortune and you need to do whatever it takes to keep your Face Value high up on the scale of social influence in order to be accepted and considered a valuable member of society.
What is the value of a person’s face?
We tend to look at our faces in the mirror and wonder to ourselves, what makes this face so special?
Would it matter if I had a different face?
We notice that we all react differently to people in life. We smile at a familiar friendly face and we turn away from the face of a person we do not like very much. We look away from a face we think is unfriendly or cruel. We tend to judge people based on their faces whether we like to do so or not. It is wrong to judge a book by its cover, but there are so many of us who are guilty of doing just that.

Do our thoughts change our facial features?

Could a person change their way of thinking to alter their facial features?
Our faces reveal so much like who we are, what we are thinking, feeling, as well as our intentions and impressions.

The human face is one of the most complex parts of the human body composed of skin, muscles, features and expressions. The human face has the biggest range of muscle structure in the human body, while forty-three of these muscles are directly linked to facial emotions.
It is human nature to trust and listen to a person with a kind face, kind eyes and a warm smile, than to someone who looks unfriendly, cold and who in our opinion has a cruel look.
In a world where identity fraud came to be a common occurrence there was need for a new face recognition system to be able to check the identity of a person. In the future there are more people experiencing identity theft, which is in a large part due to the digital footprints we leave in cyberspace.
In a world where the worth of a person is measured by his or her wealth, it was necessary for an evaluation system to be created where the skills and influence of a person could be measured. The evaluation score obtained by this ingenious method was intricate, unique making it possible for any person to get the job or career which would be ideal for the individual, so that maximum experience, joy and satisfaction were gained in the short and long terms.
Beatrice and Frank Posten were two social media scientists who developed the grading system of Face Values. They were part of an approved government project in 2064AD.
The couple had great visions of the future and they were killed in a road accident after the first two months of having implemented the new Face Value systems globally. The whole incident was treated with suspicion, as it happened in broad daylight. There were a few eye-witnesses who said that the couple were driving a blue car when they were pushed off the road and over the cliff by two black cars, a Lexus and a Chrysler which drove away.

This unfortunate incident stole the couple of their accomplishment, while creating a monstrous evaluation system, which was being used by nefarious agents to control human population worldwide and in human colonies in space.


It is said that “No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.” We are one connected island of social interaction, we are all together and yet we are all worlds apart.

I am the Face Value system and I am going to change the way humans look at themselves.

A young man is sitting in front of his computer and mobile phone working on his scores in his Face Value Application.
“Congratulations Hank, you have improved your Face Value score and now you are eligible for your next job,” says the computer, the message is repeated on the mobile of the young man.
There is a knock on the door of the apartment.
The young twenty-five year old sits up straight in his wheelchair and moves towards the door.
He raises his hand and opens the two latches and he pulls off the door chain.
He peeps through the narrow opening in the door and sees four strangers outside.
He opens the door nervously, he observes the men outside his door with suspicion.
The young man opens the door fully.
“Mr. Hank Burton your country needs you. You are to be appointed as the new President of the united new world.”
“Is this my new job? Has my Face Value risen to the Presidential level?” says the young man amused.
“Yes, you now qualify for the post of the President of the united new world,” says one of the men, a slim looking man close to his fifties slightly greying at the temples, dressed in a suit.
The men in black suits enter the small apartment.
The men in suits take the young man, who is now dressed in a dark blue suit and grey tie downstairs to the waiting limousine.
They drive Hank across the city in a limo to the Presidential office. A group of cabinet ministers walk in. They inform Hank Burton that he is the next President of the new New world.

There is a large map of the united world and there are no more boundaries, the world is one enormous large land mass sharing its resources, wealth and prosperity.

The Earth’s tectonic plates have shifted and it has resulted in physically uniting the divided world of boundaries, territories, divisions and lines.
Meanwhile an elderly woman is escorted out of the back door. She is taken in a car and left in a retirement home. Her Face value has dropped. Adele Sommerville was the President of the New World Order, but her social value and social influence dropped drastically after the great Earth shift, which resulted in the economic and political crisis in the world. This was an upheaval she was not equipped to solve. But, a young man called Hank Burton, a graduate and a genius of political reforms provided solutions, which made the world take notice. The world needed a leader for this New Age and Hank Burton was their answer.

At the Face Value Headquarters a group of ten individuals watch the screen in a high security building.
The Social Media values are rising and falling of individuals around the world. The woman in charge of the operations Merle Grayson is studying the charts with interest. The Global Face Index or GFI is the main program which evaluates all the faces of mankind from children to adults.
“We need to contact Rudy Nureyev, his Face Value is dropping at the space Station. He needs to launch that satellite in space before his face value drops and the launch is delayed by a year.”
“The virus in the spaceship is eliminating everyone with low face Values and three astronauts have already died,” said Jill Fonseca a tall brunette, who was part of Merle’s team.

Can we manipulate our facial features?

What if a person could manipulate their facial features by staring at the photograph of another person, by staring in a mirror and re-arranging their facial features with the power of their thoughts and mental abilities?

Monks at the Monastery of Triune develop a method to increase their face value in the Stock Markets.
“I believe that having the face of a Sinner or the face of a Saint, will not save a person. The world needs to have the right people at the helm of government, so the wrong people need to have their Face Values adjusted.”
Social Media influence and ecommerce values are realistic values in the society of the future. The right social Face Value can make an individual a leader in society, while a low social Face Value can result in an underprivileged life.
Human beings are capable of making ten thousand unique facial expressions. Genuine facial expressions are almost always symmetrical.
Paul Ekman proved that human expressions were learned, and showed that all human facial expressions are innate and universal. This research he carried out in the 1960s in the jungles of Papua New Guinea.
There are twenty-one mimetic facial muscles which are directly attached to the face and form the foundation of the human face.
This group of holy monks were growing their social media influence using special mathematical formulas they had developed.
Everything which the monks did was podcasted and broadcasted out to their growing audience, in the form of messages, video vlogs, pod casts, audio casts and also as blog posts.
These ordinary and pleasant six monks were producing some of the best wine and cheese in the world.
The Face Values of these monks were going up daily and they were crossing levels and ranks now in the social media blogosphere.
These humble six monks with their rising Face Values were now reaching the level of becoming some of the most powerful people in the world.
These simple and charitable monks could also run the country very soon.
There were people who did not want that to happen.
At this instant there were five assassins out to kill the six innocent monastics.
There was a traitor in the Face Value global operations network, known as “Blank Face”. The assassins of Blank Face were out to control the Face Value system and use it to harness the power of social networks to control the planet. No one could stop the agents of “Blank Face” from fulfilling their mission.
The Monastery of the Monks of Triune was located on an island in the pacific. There were few people who knew about the existence and the location of the island.
Yet, there were now three motor-boats headed towards the island and the Monastery. It was late night and the boats were soundlessly skimming the waters towards the island.
As the motor boats landed onto the beach, six armed men came ashore.
The men creep up the beach. They crawl on the grounds of the monastery and climb the high walls to get into the monastery.
The monastery is quiet, except for the sounds of the monks chanting in the inner sanctum. The masked Anti-Social Media Squad noiselessly moved along the dark and damp corridors of the monastery, till they reach a door.
The six men throw open the doors and step into the well-lit room, with guns firing.
The six praying monks drop to the floor, riddled with bullets, and bleeding profusely. The spilled blood of the monks marks the prayer room of the monastery.
The six men remove the prayer beads from the dying monks clenched hands as they next take out fresh brown robes from their packs.
All six men have the same faces as the monks killed, as they remove their masks. One of the men resets his face as he notices a shift in the angle of his nose on a shiny cabinet in the computer control centre.
These men have stolen the identities of the real monks. They go to the laptops in the adjoining room and improve their social media scores by clicking buttons to “Save the Rain Forests”, followed by clicking on sites to “Save the World from Global Warming.”

The monks next go onto the grey social networks and start to make purchases of weapons of mass destruction.

These monks, are the agents of “Blank Face” and their mission is to bring about the downfall of mankind and human civilization.





Merle Grayson sets out to find the person with zero face value and bring the person to justice.

Merle Grayson was now following a lead for a person with Zero Face Value who had made no attempt to increase their Face Value over the two months. It is a crime for a person to have a Zero Face Value in the Earth of the future.

Merle was doing this job for the last ten years now, since leaving the Face Value Training Academy. Studying to be a Face Value Analyst and Justice Officer was a tough job and she knew that he father would have been proud of her and the work that she was doing.
Her father Kevin was a police officer. He had wanted a son and he had a difficult time bringing his daughter up single-handedly after his wife Valerie passed away, at childbirth.
Kevin married again. His new wife Doris was not too fond of his daughter Merle, especially after she got two children, two girls who she gave her undivided love and attention.
There were times when Merle’s father would pick her up after school and take her for ice-cream and skating or to the movies. Merle treasured those moments with her Dad. When Merle was seventeen her father enrolled her into the Face Value training Academy. A year later Kevin passed away after a cardiac arrest, when he was at work. He was only forty-five when he passed away.
Merle left home and stayed with friends as she continued her training. There were times when she was also tempted to follow her friends and go partying and break the law. But, she always thought about her father and his last words to her, “Merle, I love you. Always prove to yourself that you can accomplish anything in life. Make yourself proud to be my daughter.”

Merle drove her car up to the old building on the outskirts of the city, which was located in a seedy neighbourhood, close to the waterfront.
She was looking for Fred Bingham the person of interest with Zero Face Value. He was the man she had to bring into the Court of Justice. He was to be imprisoned and shamed for not doing anything useful with his life. Fred had a debt to pay for society. He needed to contribute his skills, talents and abilities for the betterment of humanity. Fred Bingham had a lot to answer when she met him.
Merle kicked the old wooden door in. The swung open, she had her guns drawn. Merle was ambidextrous so she was a good shot with her gun with both her hands. This security officer loved her job and she was good at it, this was going to be one of those days, when she would show no mercy for her suspect.
Merle was allowed to shoot a suspect dead, with her license to kill, if he or she made an attempt to obstruct justice or try to prevent her from doing her job.
There was no one in sight, as she moved through the living room, into the bedroom, past the kitchen.
Merle was approaching the half open bathroom door, when she received a shock at what she saw in front of her. There was the stench of death in the air.
There was a pair of crutches on the floor.
Fred Bingham was drowned in the bathtub, with a plastic bag over his head. It was a murder and the killer had done his job successfully.
The scene was pitiable and it even made her feel bad inside.
Merle was a hardened officer of the law, but this scene made her fight back a tear. The man had a zero Face Value score because he was murdered two months ago.


It was all over the news the next day.

Adele Sommerville, the ex-President of the United New World was found poisoned in her bedroom. This was an assassination, as Adele Sommerville never touched a drop of alcohol in her life.

Do life experiences change our facial features?

What if a person can change their facial features by going through different or specific life experiences?

Merle Grayson has to testify in Court and put away a person who has stolen his face value from his identical twin.

The Crime Face Application Grabber tracks a person who has increased their Face Value Score using crime. The crime against another person adds the victim’s Face Value Score to the score of the criminal’s Face Value and is highlighted to all justice departments around the world and in galactic settlements in outer space.

Zane’s twin Cain disappeared at sea a year ago. His body was never found. Zane and Cain were identical twins. They had different Face Values although they were twins. Zane had a lower value of 1500 while his twin Cain had a Face Value of 7500. On Cain’s accidental death his Face Value went down to Zero. However, Zane had found a way to acquire all Cain’s Face Value and add it to his. Zane’s Face Value was now 9000. This would now put Zane in a powerful position.
Merle Grayson was ordered by Commander Jane Gill to arrest Zane and question him as to how he had added his dead brother’s score to his own.
Zane was arrested and he was placed in an interrogation room.
Merle walked into the room. She looked at the handsome young man who sat in the chair with his handcuffs on. He looked like he was in his late twenties, he had brown hair and brown eyes and he was about six feet tall and looked athletic.
Zane looked up at Merle and smiled brazenly.

“Hello Officer, it is good to see a friendly face around here,” said Zane.
“You will find out that I’m not as friendly as I looked,” said Merle sternly.
Merle pulled out her Face Value calculator from her black jacket pocket, typed the name of Zane and his twin brother Cain into the gadget.
Cain was now a zero, having died tragically in an accident.
Zane on the other hand was now at 9000.
“How did this happen, Zane?”
“What happened? I don’t understand officer.”
“How did you get your dead brother’s score added to yours?”
“The system got confused and added my brother’s scores to mine when he died.”
“That’s just impossible.”
“Not really, when there was only one person all along,” said Zane.
“But, why did you create two identities?”
“My brother died when we were teenagers in a camping accident, my parents buried his body and they told me to create a dual identity, in order to cover-up the crime.”
“Why did you keep pretending to be your brother and now decide to make him disappear?”
“My parents died two years ago and left a major portion of the inheritance to my brother, which resulted in having a large score. I decided to make him disappear in order to get my hands on his share of the inheritance as I’m the last surviving member of the family.”
“That would mean that your crime is identity fraud and not murder,” said Officer Merle Grayson.
“I should get off the hook in six months,” said the triumphant Zane.
“Not really, the punishment for playing the Face Value system is twenty years of imprisonment. You are twenty-five now and you should be released at the age of forty or forty-five.”













A teenage model raises her Face Value and gets to run a Beauty empire.
High Value Faces can be seen everywhere in the city, in the media, all over the world and on Earth colonies.
Sylvia was a model from the age of six and she was used to being in the limelight. Her parents had encouraged her to take up modelling at a young age. Sylvia’s parents had high value faces and they were well known in the science industry. Her mother Judy was a Head Teacher at the school with an influence spanning three decades and over ten thousand students and their families.
The Beauty Value Application was created by Sylvia Jones to help young people develop their skills in the field of beauty, while increasing their Face Value score. The Beauty App was a great success with young girls of all ages.
Sixteen year old Sylvia woke up that morning listening to the buzz of the beauty app on her mobile phone.
There was a photo shoot in the woods close to the city. Sylvia got ready, dressed up and took her portfolio with her. Sylvia was familiar with the Agency though the name of the person was not known to her.
That day Sylvia did not return home. Her parents phone the agency to ask if they had invited her to a photo shoot.
The personal assistant at the fashion agency inform the parents that they had not invited Sylvia for any photo shoot, as their three photographers were out on an assignment in the Bahamas with a group of their models.
The fashion Agency informs the police that six of their top models are missing. One of the girls had left a phone behind and the message read that there was to be a photo shoot in the woods just outside the city limits.

The Fashion Agency Platinum Fabulous also contact the Face Value Agency and give them information about their online accounts, websites and Face Value applications which  were also hacked and the hacker had posted obscene messages onto their websites and social media applications.