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Wednesday, December 12, 2012

READ ALL ABOUT IT: XII: GENESIS by Jason Rowe and Brian Palmer + CONTEST!


Why hello there!
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers…the place that aims to please your appetite, one book at a time.


Quick reminder before we jump into everything, there are SEVERAL contests going on right now here on the site, some end sooner (12/18/12) as opposed to later (01/31/13!) but all are just waiting for YOU to take a chance at winning the bookish booty they have up for grabs.  So, when you’re done with THIS post, check out the right hand side bar under ‘Current Contests’ and throw your hat in the ring for a chance to win!  Now, back to today’s regularly scheduled post….


Do you know what day it is?  Or perhaps that would be better put as what DATE it is?  *raises eyebrows*  Why it’s…


12-12-12




*waits for asteroids*
_ducks Martians_
--outruns volcanoes—





JUST KIDDING!

But seriously, that doesn't happen EVERY day, in fact pretty much only ONCE a year through the ’12’s each century so mark the occasion in some special way because we won’t be seeing another one until 2101…*blinks*…and yeah, most of us won’t actually be “seeing” that one if you catch my drift (or we’ll be so elderly that we’ll be lucky to know where we are let alone when!).  Anywho…




 My contribution to “marking” the day will be wishing a HAPPY BOOK BIRTHDAY to a newly released ebook title that packs a punch.  How do I know?  Because when the opportunity to review it crossed my path, I really dug into it.  No, really!  I don’t just say “yes” to everything; it wouldn’t be fair to them (the author, publisher, publicist, etc) OR me.  Every “pitch” that crosses my inbox home plate is given consideration; hence the inclusion of author sites, book sites, etc is most appreciated.  This one was lacking in that department so I did what any responsible book blogger would do…I ASKED for more.  ^_^  The response, rather positive indeed…AND more importantly, enough to turn my “I’m-not-sure” into a “yes-please” in no time at all.  So where does that leave us?  Well, here precisely or rather on my “to-be-read-in-2013” list but I couldn't wait to let YOU READ ALL ABOUT IT. 

Now WARNING, it’s not for the little kiddos; in fact, from what I have read thus far and the overall intensity of the story, I’m going with a recommended age of older teen through adult (same goes for the excerpt appearing here in a few moments).  It’s dark, it dangerous, it’s the first book in a planned EIGHT book series and frankly, it sounds exciting!  So, without further ado, let’s get this show on the road.  Warm and dry (hey, it’s RAINING where I am!) HAPPY BOOK BIRTHDAY wishes to…




By
Jason Rowe and Brian Palmer
  
A century after the world was predicted to end, it was indeed reborn. Under the leadership of the Overseer of New Earth, minds were united, diseases were cured, population centers minimized mankind’s footprint, and the remainder of the planet was turned over to the will of nature. War was eradicated, the world embraced one religion, and the New Era began.


But darkness rises now, mistaken for a mere shadow cast by the bright light of human progress. It is the time of which the ancients foretold. It is the time when all things must end …It is the time of The Twelve.
Six men and six women representing all creeds and colors are supernaturally gifted, but the unlikeliest of heroes. They are barely old enough to be considered adults by the world’s standards, but still they are called.


Only they can stand against the growing darkness – but will they stand together?




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Sounds good, right?
Told you so…and that’s just the beginning!
The official website (though still partly a work-in-progress…and yet filled with awesomeness) lists out with some detail the descriptions/traits for “the Twelve”…six men, six women.  Of those on the potential team, I would most identify with SIMRA…upbringing steeped in education, protective (sometimes over…*ahem*) parent, and inquisitive nature.  Curious to see what role she plays in the story, but my interest in the others isn’t too far behind.  Which one do YOU identify with most (and why)?  Hold that thought for a second though (no really, hold it because you’ll need the answer later on!) because thanks to the authors I have TWO more treats for you.  First up, it’s time to peek between the pages and sample an excerpt of what you’re in store for.  Again with the WARNING…the scenes depicted are pretty dark, so if you’re a kiddo reading this, switch to my lighter fluffy posts, okay?  Otherwise, you may proceed….



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EXCERPT:  XII:  GENESIS


I
Population Center-New York: October 31, 3 N.E., 11:48 p.m.
The air is biting cold beneath a crimson moon as citizens of PC-NY prowl the streets in search of self-gratification. At the center of Times Square, a forty-foot effigy of a man on a cross continues to burn, casting an eerie, orange-red glow on nearby residence towers.
            Around the fire’s perimeter, men with painted faces and torsos bloody each other as part of the holiday fight club festivities, while others guzzle homemade whiskey, howling at the moon between mouthfuls. Women dressed in little more than body paint gyrate to the drone of seductive, primal music, their bodies covered in sweat from the heat of the fire while others engage in sexual acts for all to see. Most of those present are sporting an erotic-themed, Egyptian crest somewhere on their bodies, whether in the form of a tattoo or jewelry.
            A few city blocks away, a runt of a man exits a run-down, all-night food stand, clutching a small bag to his chest nervously, his sunken eyes darting back and forth down the dimly lit street. Lighting a serenity stick, he takes a couple of drags before shuffling off to his right, away from the raucous activities taking place a mile or so in the other direction. Moving fast enough to make good time, but not daring to run for fear of drawing attention to himself, he keeps his gaze fixed on a crosswalk that is only ten strides away.
Two strides short of his objective, a small group of painted men steps into his path from behind the edge of a nearby building. Even in the dark, their bald silhouettes cause the serenity stick in the man’s hand to tremble as adrenaline rushes through his veins. A member of the group steps into a small strand of light from a fading streetlight and the man goes pale at the sight of his would-be assailant’s coal-black eyes, surrounded by sockets full of ruptured blood vessels.
The man turns away in an all-out sprint, desperately looking over his shoulder after a few strides, only to find that his pursuers are merely walking after him. Hope courses through him briefly and he quickens his pace, but when he faces forward again a moment later a second group steps out from the shadows, blocking his escape from the first. Corralled from both directions, the man throws the bag at his attackers in a panic, hoping the sacrifice will suffice, but it is trampled as the two groups soon overwhelm him.
            While the small mob satisfies its bloodlust, a jet black patrol vehicle comes to a silent stop at the curb behind them. The nose and rear of the vehicle are inscribed with the word SECURITY while the doors of the vehicle are adorned with the large, gold letters: ONE, an acronym for “Overseer of New Earth.” The roof is decorated by an enormous red sun that is partially blotted out by the visage of a black dragon in flight. Inside the vehicle, a security officer points a video camera at the scene, watching briefly as the murder plays out with green, night vision clarity on the camera’s viewfinder. After a few brief moments of filming, the patrol vehicle pulls away as the victim’s screams are swallowed up by the night.
            Across town, another ONE Security patrol methodically makes its way past city blocks filled with tents and makeshift huddles. Barrel fires scattered throughout the skids do little to warm the families living there and the eyes of hungry children with poverty-smeared faces stare at the vehicle accusingly as it passes. The officer inside pays them no mind as something a block away catches his eye. A woman is desperately trying to fight off three men and failing miserably. The patrolman pulls off to the roadside, readying his video camera. Just outside the passenger window, a small child sits on the ground rocking as she hugs her legs tightly to her chest. Her clothes are dingy and tattered, her face streaked with tears. She doesn’t seem to notice the officer as she calls out to her mother between sobs. The officer unemotionally points the camera at the girl before turning to her mother who has now been wrestled and pinned to the ground. After collecting enough footage, the patrol car leaves the curb and moves past the rape in progress. One of the rapists becomes aware of the car’s presence and looks back at the officer as he drives past them. The rapist’s black eyes reflect no light as he licks his caked lips and smiles before turning his attention back to the woman. The patrol car leaves the woman and her daughter to the whims of the mob, passing a steam-filled alley before turning south on its assigned route.
            Down that same alley, an old man, made older by his life choices, is slumped against one of the alley walls fighting a case of the nods while cradling a bottle. He wakes from his current blackout and makes a mighty effort to remove the bottle’s cap when Mikhail instantly appears out of the cloud of steam to his left. The wino drops the bottle with sudden sobriety brought on by the presence of the imposing figure that is slowly walking toward him. Despite his drunken stupor, the wino reckons the man must be over ten feet tall and built like a thoroughbred, his muscular arms and legs making mountaintops out of the sea of white and grey that marks his clothing. A grim look is etched onto Mikhail’s chiseled jaw. Looking up at Mikhail, the old man notices that he radiates a different light than what is seen in the alley, or anywhere the old man has been in his lifetime.
Just as Mikhail is about to pass by the wino, he stares down at him and his look softens. The wino squirms as Mikhail’s form shrinks in size to more earthly, but still imposing, proportions. At the same time, the glow that blankets him drains like water from his massive frame and coalesces into his eyes before they turn dark brown. Then, Mikhail smiles at the old man as if he knows him and reaches an inviting hand out without saying a word. Hesitating briefly, the old man accepts Mikhail’s invitation.
The moment the wino takes Mikhail’s hand, warmth spreads over his body. Like a child clinging to its mother, the old man buries his smiling face into the chest of his new friend and weeps tears of joy. After several moments, the wino steps back and smiles at Mikhail, before walking away with renewed hope, his eyes and mind both clearer than they have been in many years.
Mikhail resumes walking without looking back, his steely gaze remaining fixed on his ultimate destination somewhere in the cloud of fog at the end of the alley. As though on command, the fog-like haze that fills the alley parts before him obediently. Clusters of men, women and children who are huddled around barrel fires pay him little notice; neither do they note as Mikhail passes by them that the very shadows created by their fires along the alley walls begin to break free from their natural places to slither after him.
Mikhail stops when he reaches the far end of the alley, a look of calm expectation on his face as the fog in the area closes around him, concealing him and his dark stalkers from the view of any who might be looking on. The sound of laughter is heard faintly from somewhere unseen before fading out, and the shadows form a perimeter around the man, his stoic gaze softening into a smirk in response.
            “This is our domain, Mikhail,” a hissing voice says from behind him. “You have no power here.”
“This place may be yours for the moment,” Mikhail says without turning around, a hint of menace in his Eastern European accent, “but try me if you doubt my power.”
            Hoarse cackling erupts and then spreads throughout the shadowy ranks.
“Even you are no match alone against a legion. Leave now or fall you will.”
            Mikhail is unfazed by the threat. “I’m merely passing through, admiring the festivities. But since you’re in a conversational mood, I have two messages for you.” After more cackling and hissing, he continues without waiting for them to reply further. “First, tell your master not to be late for his funeral. Second…tell my brother I’ll see him soon.”
The next moment, a pulse of light illuminates the fog like a storm cloud and a clap of thunder is heard before a torrent of wind rushes down the alley, drowning out the shrieks of Mikhail’s dark stalkers as it blows out all of the barrel fires and leaves the alley in total darkness.




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Intense, right?
Warned ya…but you can’t say that you aren’t wondering just who this Mikhail is or why the “legion” is after him or why the city appears to be under siege from all things evil and the Security patrol is not only driving by but FILMING the action?!?
*gasp*

So many questions…but they don’t have to remain unanswered; which brings me to my “part 2” of my “thanks to the authors” statement earlier.  Can you guess what it might be?  What’s that?  A contest you say?  Oh how right you are!



In celebration of their book’s release, the authors have granted me the privilege of giving all of YOU a chance to win!



The prize…


(1)   Kindle ebook edition of XII:  Genesis by Jason Rowe and Brian Palmer





How to enter…
Just fill in the rafflecopter form below and you’ll be in it to win it....wait, no, okay, change of plans.  I was SO going to use rafflecopter but they just did an update and their site is totally bugging out.  (*sad face*)  So...NEW PLAN...just...

 CLICK HERE 

...to fill out the GOOGLE Form and I'll do the tallying, random drawing and winner announcing by 12/26/12...sound good?  Good.

There's plenty of chances to win with only ONE required entry so have fun with it!  Explore a new bookish world in the making and SPREAD THE WORD!  ^_^



Entries accepted today through midnight CST on December 24th, 2012 (12 days for a 12/12/12 release…^_^).  Open internationally or as long as you have access to read a Kindle ebook…whichever platform you use i.e. an actual Kindle or one of their many reading apps that work with your smart phone, PC and more.



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Special thanks to author Jason Rowe and Brian Palmer for the chance to bring this contest to you as well as the upcoming read.  (THANKS guys!)  For more information on this series, be sure to visit their official website, like them on Facebook, or follow along on Twitter.  This ebook is available now on Amazon through Kindle Direct Publishing.  If you simply can’t wait on the contest and must read it RIGHT NOW…I don’t blame you…and here’s the link to Amazon to help you on your way. 




ONE MORE THING…a rather interesting footnote that I learned about this writing duo…both were formerly employed by a non-profit organization that works to rescue women and girls from the sex and human trafficking trade.  Mr. Palmer in fact was even able to visit them in India a little over a year ago to see their works of goodwill first hand.  With that in mind, I have been advised that for every ebook purchased one-third of all net proceeds will be donated to a non-profit that is fighting to rescue women and girls from the sex and human trafficking trades in Mumbai, IndiaSo if you were looking for another reason beyond your interest to check this title out…there you go; hand delivered from the writers themselves.


Until next time…GOOD LUCK, SPREAD THE WORD…and happy reading!



1 comments:

Melissa (My World...in words and pages) said...

Wow, and to learn that work history. Huh. Sounds great! Thank you!

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