FINALLY!!! THE DARK SIDE OF THE DUNE debuts
Never have I awaited the release of a novel of my creation with the anticipation of my latest, The Dark Side of the Dune. When I self-publish, the whole process is under my control. I write the manuscript, create the cover and make it fit the text, set the price and the release date. I outsource the formatting to Go Published, a firm in Malta. The whole process can take as little as two weeks. However, the finished product sometimes is less than professional quality.
My fourth novel is by far my most ambitious. It started as sort of a challenge. A comment was made by my friend Lucy Owen that a short story that appeared in Morning Wine would make a good novel. Never one to turn down a challenge, I began formulating plans to do just that. Using the premise that existed I charged forward. The framework was a solid foundation on which to build and soon characters, settings and plot lines were in place. What resulted is a great psychological thriller. However, the release date and the price were no longer under my control.
The Dark Side of the Dune is now at book outlets including Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Initial responses and reviews have been enthusiastic. A passage from the novel follows....Somewhere years ago, a young girl boarded a bus or hitched a ride to eternity. Her destiny and my life were in some way woven together, and the outcome turned tragic. She had a name. She had a future. But that future ended that night, and the name was lost. Would she ever be properly remembered?the
I picked at the salad, completely distracted. Darkness spread over the city as I watched from the Aphrodite. The glow seemed to reverse itself going from the skies to the earth and the later it got from the earth to the skies. Chicago was alive and vibrant, but within its realm existed many who, for some reason, did not fit. The girl at the bus stop haunted me as if the forty years, approximately fifteen thousand days, disappeared and the night might be recaptured, maybe to a different conclusion. However, the rules dictated by life do not allow for second chances, so as I snuggled comfortably into the warmth of an afghan, thoughts of my victim refused to relent and from her cold damp resting place, she haunted me.
I'm not sure how long I slept there on the deck. I remember awakening to a chilly breeze and the eerie quiet of a city at peace. To the west, the glow obstructed the millions of stars; but when I turned to the east and stretched away the aches of life as a sixty year old, they glowed, specks of light mocking my frail existance. I stood for a moment, gazing into the same sky that covered her cold, damp place of rest. I turned and descended the steps to my comfortable quarters; like always she folloiwed me.
When you have finished the novel, I request that you write an honest review of the work. Also debuting soon on Amazon will be the translation in French of my WWII novel The Monument. Entitled Le Memorial it's a great read.