Mikel Parry's Blog

LOCATION INSPIRATIONWhen I'd first started writing John Awakening the initial inspiration had arrived from a dream. When I was younger I spent over two years living in Peru. I lived in Lima, Ica and even Ayacucho. I spent a lot of time just walking around. During this time I would spend literal hours just pondering over the dreams I'd had in my head. Yes it could be that boring. Or is boring a placeholder for relaxing? I find those two to be closely connected. The situations in John Awakening then began fleshing out creating a living vivid world. I can't deny that the locations I lived in had some degree of effect on the book itself. Places like Ayacuchoinspired an ancient-meets-modern feel to it. A place where technology existed as more like background music than the main ensemble. It was there that my story took on even more form. Ayacucho impacted me enough that it made its way into another one of my stories called Percy. The aged, cobblestone, streets made me feel like I was walking back in the time of the conquistadors. The amount of history in Ayacucho can be seen on almost every corner. It's a city that's seen some good and bad times. But one thing remains constant throughout it all, its culture. I loved feeling so disconnected while still having he luxury of stopping by an internet cafe to quickly send out some emails and pictures. On a choice trip out to some incredible ruins in the middle of literal nowhere, I really started forming certain parts of what John Awakening would have. I wanted to capture the same feelings of adventure, history, and exploration. I wanted it to have certain familiar tones while growing the cadence. This led me to one of my favorite areas I absolutely love going to, the jungle.I love the jungle. Plain and simple. It's one of my favorite places to turn a rock, scream for help, and see things I never thought were real. My thoughts turned towards many of the adventure style movies from my youth here, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Jurassic Park, Congoand many others. Stories aside, the locales inspired me. I love the organized chaos that they provide. A thick, towering canopy hung over an incredible foray of foliage and animal life. The possibilities there are endless. As are the potential diseases and rashes. I mean just look at this photo. The mesh of greens and color mixed with the trickling light and angles. Gasp and awe is what I felt the first time I saw it. That's the feeling I wanted to capture in John Awakening. I wanted a place that would drop some jaws. I wanted it to have certain aspects of familiarity while being completely alien at the same time. I began forming this world clear back in 2005. I don't believe I finalized it until 2009. So it took about a four years for me to lay out John Awakening's backdrop and the rest of the series. 2009 was also when I began my instruction in the dark arts of Electrical Engineering. There's no going back from that point on. Resistance is futile. Question everything. MOVIE INSPIRATIONSI've already mentioned some of them already to this point. I love pretty much all the movies that George Lucas or Steven Spielbergput out with maybe a few exceptions. I can't quite graspAmerican Graffitilike I know I'm supposed to. Sorry George, you've got me on that one. But we've all got to pay our dues don't we? The Indiana Jones universe was one my imagination latched onto almost immediately. I remember watching the movie as a child being blown away by the exotic locations and action. I'll never forget the epic heart removal scene fromthe Temple of Doom.I'll admit, Eastern style heart surgery looks pretty efficient. Minus the imminent death and lava. The entire Indiana Jones series served my creative imagination well. Well, except forIndiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.I'm stuck in a weird place on that one. Was it a hoax? A little hoopla-gimmick to play on our nostalgic heart-strings? Or was it a fiery, miserable, death of a franchise? I'll let you decide. And how could I forget, Jurassic Park. If you've read some of my blogs you'll probably realize that Michael Crichton is one of my favorite authors. But beyond that, I'm fantastically enthralled in some of the worlds he created. I'll admit, much like my children, anything with dinosaurs in it will get my nod in the ticket line. Even if it ends up being a burning blimp filled with fragments of my childhood plummeting down to the earth leaving regret, despair and crying-non-millennial-children in its wake. Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom why? I guess If I'd just have unhinged my brain and let my expectations leave me, it would've just been a joy ride. But I couldn't. I'll be the perpetual old man wagging his cane as the purist that won't die or move on. But the world in the originals is amazing. I loved the character diversity and the chaos and destruction. I loved The Lost World.The locales helped inspire me in the creation of John Awakening. It draws a lot of similarity of wonder and chaos mixed in an unfolding story line. I felt this described a lot of the Jurassic novels for me. As a reader I was engulfed by the idea of seeing actual dinosaurs again living in some untouched landscape. At the same time there was the underlying tone of suspense and horror as well. This added to the real but fictitious world that was wrapped around you. It felt like iterations of a warm then cold blanket being draped around you.Then there's theStar Wars franchise. The entire universe from the originals (4,5 and 6) up until the modern movies was marvelous. This despite the atrocity that was the smooth-talking-Jamaican,Jar Jar Binks. Or the cyberpunk-robot-infested world of Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones. I'm going to slur over the latest installments because I could ramble off on those for a while. I'll just skirt around that fire for the time being. This franchise defines so much of what I love about the idea of infinite exploration and space. It opens up an endless realm of possibilities. I see so much color and variances in characters and worlds that it was a literal joyride. I loved the classic examples of good versus evil with a twist. All of the iconic scenes, characters and dialogue have stuck with me even to this day. I used a lot of the same ideas Star Wars deployed in its franchise in the John Series. I wanted an arc of a story that could span the galaxy. I wanted the galaxy to share a common problem while at the same time having its own sub levels of worlds, characters, groups and plots. These underlying concepts help shape the universe and the characters therein. Their struggle becomes more real as the world around them continues to take shape. This also allows me to have a mental escape like none other. I dream of being able to take off into a Star Wars like universe where just about anything is possible. But so far I'll settle for Elon Musk and the the Marsmission his team are going for. They'll plow through the realm of possibility and settle an alien American Southwest. Maybe this will inspire another An American Taletake on the Mars mission, cats and mice to boot. I'd literally watch that movie tomorrow. Wallowing in a couch of nostalgia.BOOKSHere's an echo, I love Crichton's Jurassic series. Need I say more than I already have? I'll try something fresh then. When I talk about books that inspired this series its hard to really pin just one down. In truth, there were many. The John universe encompasses a lot of different places and events. This gave me a lot of wiggle room in what I'd use and how I'd use it. But if I had to target down a couple books outside of the Crichton-dinosaur world I'd look to J. R. R. Tolkien'sThe Lord of the Ringsor even The Hobbit. Now I know what you're thinking. How do hobbits, elves and whatever Gimli was, tie into a futuristic space novel? Well you've made it this far so let's just tough this one out. Bear with me, this is a stretch. It's because of the ecosystem. What I really enjoyed about the series was the feel that you never knew what was around the corner. You'd sneak into a cave and find ancient relics in a troll hoard. Spoiler Alert: How did that swordget there in the first place? The troll version of Hoardersthat actually worked out for somebody. Go ahead and lose a couple hours of your life to that show. I know I did and I'm a much better person for doing it. The idea of a surprise sitting just around the corner is part of what drove John Awakening's style. I wanted it to feel open to anything. That you wouldn't know what was coming next. I also wanted you to find things. So when John experiences new places, I loved adding in some history or relevancy there were I could. There's a scene I depict in the book that is a tangent from the story line almost completely, yet I felt it added even more mystery and context to the world. You'll know what I'm talking about once you've read the book. It reminds you to always watch your step. I should also note that The Lord of the Rings movies were also largely inspirational. I know this section is supposed to be about the books. But those movies were and are fantastic. Minus whatever The Hobbitmovies were. That was 48 framers per second of Peter Jacksonsqueezing theatrical-movie-expansion, blood from just one stone. A stone, that in my opinion, would have been just epic on its own. But hey, we needed a forced romance interest between and elf and a dwarf. That finally settles the ongoing debate about fictitious political correctness and tolerance. Thank you writing team, thank you.I loved the entire Lord of the Rings series. I enjoyed the build-up and execution. I also enjoyed, and I'm probably in the minority here, Tolkien's backstory. It's true, he could ramble a bit. But some of it shows you just how involved he was with the story. He even created actual structured languages around the world. How incredible is that? Or as I should say in ancient elvish; Ego, *mibo orch!THE VERDICTI've got so much to tell in this series. I've got ideas of how to expand on it and things I'd love to see. But first you've got to get into it. Take the dive into John just like I did. With an open mind ready for adventure. I hope that all the countless hours I spent in the creation of this series will entertain you much in the same way that it entertained me while I was writing it. I love this series. I really do. From its beginnings as one of my roughest pieces of work, to multiple edits later to what it is today. I'm beyond excited to have people start reading this series. And I'm even more excited to finally put John's universe out at your finger tips. -Mikel Parry

THE ANDROMEDA STRAINThe book The Andromeda Strainby Michael Crichtonhas always been one of my favoritenovels from one of my favorite authors. One of the main reasons it is is due to the ideas that are in play in the book. I enjoyed this techno-thriller and how it portrayed an extreme event leading to mass effect. Essentially, I like putting the world up against the wall as we ride the roller coaster without anymore track.Crichton's style to me is one filled with an almost childlike imagination fully matured into a wonderful storyteller. I'm a bit biased here as I find a lot of his topics to be very interesting as well. I'll do my best not to bring up large dinosaurs eating tourists as much as possible. I'll make no promises.The Andromeda Strain especially resonated with me for its mixture of science fiction with a thriller undertone. I enjoy how Crichton uses scenarios and events to keep your pulse going. This book had a veryX-Fileslike feel to it for me. Not the X-Files reboot that pretty much was a prolonged, force-fed, nostalgic, anti-prozac, look at how I somehow lost my youth and its pop culture stars. Instead it was mainly due to the fact that I grew up partially in the 90's and loved the X-Files! Was there ever more romantic tension than that between Scully and Mulder? I've never screamed at my box-screened television that much for anything butAmerican Gladiators. Diamond, Blaze, if you're reading this, there's still a chance to make this work. The X-Files sci-fi facets had so much mystery, build-up and thrills. I really loved the fact that a show with limited effects could still send tingles down my spine. This of course was due to the set up and delivery. Both of which I think Crichton and the X-Files do very well. This style is propagated in many of my books regardless of the specific genre. I like having my readers hang near the edge before the fall.The Andromeda Strain utilizes various areas and regions letting you hop from one character to another while all the while moving the story forward. I've read other authors who use this tactic and it can be difficult. The most recent that comes to mind is that of The Atlantis Geneby A. G. Riddle.While I was captivated by the initial plot, I did find it a difficult book to come back to after time and pick up where I'd left off. This was mainly due to the parallel plots that were unfolding that would eventually tie together. It's like working on three or four puzzles at the same time. Because of this I eventually ended up sitting down to read it over a quick getaway vacation. The Andromeda Strain was similar in that regard for me. It required my focus. Which I should note that I enjoy. I like a book that draws me into its complicated world and hierarchies. These hierarchies of plots and characters are what kept my interest to also finish The Andromeda strain in just a few sittings. When I was able to approach Crichton's novel in that way I found myself to be more fully invested. The tension also felt more real when I'd had all the build up to that moment laid out beforehand. I've also found that books like The Andromeda Strain, feel more palpable and the tension and fear more realized when I do read them versus an audio book. UnlessDavid Attenboroughnarrated the book. I don't care what it is. When he does it, it's interesting. Occasionally I'll see a theatrical rendition of books like this that will do it some partial justice. But for me, nothing beats an intact imagination drawn from the pages of the book.All-in-all, I'd recommend Crichton's book for anyone looking for a classic read. I wouldn't say it's for everyone as it really dives into a lot of science fiction and extreme possibilities. But if you're like me, you enjoy the roller coaster ride. DREAMCATCHERAnother great read is Stephen King'sDreamcatcher. Now I'm not going to do this one justice as it's been awhile since the last time I read this. To be honest I saw the movie a few years back on the USA network which is now headlining timeless classics like, Temptation Island and What's Cooking with Julie Chrisley. Sadly that was my last experience with it. But in writing Pedirol, I couldn't deny the fact that this book and movie came to mind. The general feel to Dreamcatcher for me was one of almost constant confusion. Much like dating in college. No appearance of any real direction, unclear commitments, occasional action, and somehow I end up with less money. This isn't to be said as a negative necessarily, but it does promote the idea of chaos. In one of my recent posts I spoke to this effect about how one of my goals in writing Pedirol was to cultivate chaos in its arc. As such, I felt drawn to Dreamcatcher's story line. So I stuck it out. The movie rendition is a grotesque take on an alien infection and invasion. I enjoyed its strange appeal on the interaction between, what is earth's repellent forces, and the strange aliens themselves as they infect some The Fourth Kind-type location. Real estate prices in arctic hell-holes have never been better. King's method of storytelling is also very appealing to me on certain levels as I feel like he makes characters real. They behave as you'd might expect and respond in equal measure to the chaos that's unfolding in the storytelling. This creates some very interesting dynamics between characters and the plot. But what really drew me to Dreamcatcher? In all honesty, it was the organized chaos. The odd sense of reality you experience as you dive deeper into the oddity of the world. I never felt at ease while reading this book. Contrary to The Andromeda Strain, I felt like I could revisit this and still feel a fresh sense of fear as each scene was compartmentalized in its own unique fashion. This did derive some other connotations to what things meant. But this to me is a good thing. Anything that entices thought is always a positive. Unless it's partial differential equations, they can die a fiery, demon, death. But ultimately I feel like the mind-blast of an ending sort of rushed things together. That was the only part that I really scrutinized was the ending. It was a surprise but it also seemed expedited. I thought over it many times after reading the book and watching the movie to try and grasp it better. Eventually I gave up on this notion and embraced the chaos of it all much like you'd embrace a crazy uncle. Cautiously, with-witnesses, but like family. But I didn't let that ruin the rest of the style and appeal of King's book. I can appreciate King's approach to something like this as divulging too much early on can take the edge off of things. I felt like the twist at the end produced even more questions, which is exactly what I was going for in Pedirol. SPHEREI love this book and movie! Now that my blinding bias is out of the way... Sphereby Michael Crichtonis a story that impacted me not only in the writing of Pedirol, but in many other of my titles. The idea that Crichtoncreates is one I find irresistible. It truly opens up the realm of possibility. I enjoyed the constant build up to what would inevitably be the answer to the many questions the book creates. And believe me, you'll have a lot of them. I love how Crichton used backgrounds and locations to really open up situations and scenarios. I felt that the characters were believable and many were memorable. What I enjoyed the most was the ride. I felt the fear and struggle as the crew tried to understand what was happening to them. I liked the mix of reality-driven fear dipped in a vat of fantastic fiction. This made scenarios feel both fictional yet possible.I liked the character development that at times felt a bit slow but still relevant in both the book and movie. I'm trying to remember the last time I've heard Dustin Hoffman whisper so much? Maybe when asked about his role in Tootsie? But that's our little secret. Some of the books I've read rush so quickly through things that I barely feel any connection to the characters at all. Sphere didn't do that for me. It provided me with enough emotional attachment to each person that their fear and terror were more palpable. This made the oddity that was the sphere more relevant to me as it was relevant to the characters. With this connection, things then fell in line and the chaos was far more palatable than just being thrown at you in waves like the Onbashirafestival in Japan. You're welcome. The style of this book left a lot in its wake to resonate on. This made leaving it, then picking it back up, relatively easy. I didn't feel like it was a chore to work through the action. It felt clean and well executed. I'd definitely recommend this book for anyone looking to delve into the realm of possibility or the human psyche without the added burden of lamplight, street-corner, meetups with some guy named Lenny who's got the good stuff. I'd also recommend it for writers looking for a wonderful execution and build ups. THE VERDICTI'd strongly recommend anyone who's trying to delve into a chaos-driven, sci-fi, writing endeavor to take a look at the styles of these two books. I wouldn't say you even have to like them to derive out the brilliant substance in the set up and execution. I spent countless hours working through Pedirol's story line and creation to try and deliver on the ultimate execution that would leave the reader wanting more. Having the inspiration from these amazing authors was a great boon to have in the critical delivery for the final knock out blow in Pedirol. GIVEAWAYI've always been a purveyor of the phrase, Put your money where your mouth is. And I intend to do just that. I'm giving away the bundle of these books (The Andromeda Strain, Dreamcatcher and Sphere) plus a copy of my own book (Pedirol). It's free so you literally have nothing to lose! All you have to do is subscribe to my site for an entry. And unlike privacy-intrusive, internet, companies named after some ludicrous number, I'll only send you good, clean, content while giving your email to no one. Well there goes my SEO... -Mikel Parry

I've been working away on all my books and am proud to say that I'll be doing a dual release in time for the Christmas holidays! Brink will be released as the second installment of the AC series (Fathom) alongside Pedirol. I'm looking forward to the dual releases and all the excited fans! You make this happen! Thank you! More to come!

So it's not often that you're given the chance to be a part of something that's already pretty much done.  Perhaps you put the cherry on the cake.  Or even you might have been as so bold to have finished someone else's kiss they were ending with a loved one without permission or warning.  Both are exciting, creepy and delicious.  But here I'm giving you something better.  But what could be better than borderline harassment?  You!  That's right, you!And also this sweet rendered picture of an arch and waterfalls.  But what is it with YOU that's so awesome?  Your imagination and input.  That's what I'm looking for and I'll tell you how.  BRINK is completed.  It's story has been created, proofed and prepped for your insatiable eyes to read.  But I've intentionally left some of its chapters unnamed.  No before you go freak out and leave me for another cringe worthy, typists just doing his best to entertain your already struggling attention span, it'll be fun.  The idea, and I've done this before, is to give a random few SUBSCRIBERS the opportunity to have FREE CHAPTER exerts that they can then read, ponder, search and eventually name.  That's where the YOU comes in!  You're naming one of my chapters in a book that I've painstakingly put together!It's the easy street in a relationship you've always wanted without the restraining order!  But honestly if a couple is going to kiss that long I feel like I'm doing the guy a favor.  Lip fatigue is a real thing.  So here's your chance to lip-lock with one of my books.  But only those who've SUBSCRIBED will have the chance.  BRINK can be part of your creation as much as you want it to be!  And I'm always looking for ways to involve the community!So looking forward with FATHOM and BRINK and so much more to come, I thank all of you for being such amazing followers.  As always, if you've got any questions, ask them!  I'm always open to questioning.  And if you haven't, SUBSCRIBE!  You can't get any of this stuff unless I can get it to you!  And social media just isn't cutting it!Much love!SUBSCRIBE here >  www.mikelparry.comFacebook > https://www.facebook.com/MikelAParry/... Fiends > #mikelaparry

So far the ride with Fathom has been jubilant, outstanding, and even at times fun.  But I promised there'd be more to come!  And even now as I'm trying to squeeze this in between down time on a business trip while I wait for my room to be cleaned, I'm ecstatic.  No really I am.  And that's coming from somebody who barely creases a smile at a river dance performance.  Is that still a thing?Idea shift...  So why am I so excited?  It's because the second book of what you'll soon know as the AC series is being finalized as we speak (so to speak as I'm typing).  One that's been doubly called, BRINK.  It's been done for quite some time and is a continuation of the series.  But don't think that it isn't filled with surprises.  This won't be panned out like you're usual crumbles of series gold.  I'd envisioned the layout of this series to allow for a large amount of openness.  You'll see what I mean once you read it.BRINK will have a lot in common with FATHOM and even has a few Easter eggs here and there that should send you back to FATHOM saying, "Wait, wait didn't I read something about that?"  And that's where the fun is!  BRINK will set you off with a new characters, new plot lines, mystery, murder and a whole lot more!  I'm trying hard not to just let it all out.  But like me at a Garth Brooks concert, I'm just going to have to keep all the emotion inside.So what's next?  Content, bonus releases, free stuff and of course another book.  And by bonus releases, I mean just that.  SUBSCRIBE if you haven't!  See those capital letters?  Seriously I pounded that CAPS lock key into submission.  All my subscribers on the mailing list will have first access to all content.  This even includes FREE book giveaways!  I'm even looking at doing a PRE-RELEASE giveaway of the first-draft-edit!  IS that CRAZY?  Probably, but I just don't care.I still want your input as a community in shaping the universe I'm continually creating.  It's only going to get bigger.  The AC series is but a piece of it and there's so much more.  So much is still to come it's crazy.  But don't be a late adopter, get on now!  Then you can tell your friends you were there when it all started.  Or at least you can have a good laugh about how awkward I can make someone feel via my keyboard.  It's supernatural and yet so necessary.  So from me here in my little pocket universe, enjoy!  I look forward to what the future holds!Subscribe here >  www.mikelparry.comTwitter Fiends  > #mikelaparryFacebook >  https://www.facebook.com/MikelAParry/

It's a new year and a new... I'm not sure what to put there, but it's new.  So what's happening in my world?  First off, my first released book, Fathom, is being dispersed to bookstores.  I've received some awesome reviews/feedback from fans and am looking forward to much more in the world of Fathom.My second book, who's title will be revealed soon, is being edited as we read/type/formulate words in our heads.  I'll be Johnny-on-the-spot as much as I can with its release and updates.  But for now we'll keep focused on Fathom.It's hard to believe that I started this process over a year ago.  When I had no website, social media platforms, artwork or images of any kind.  All Fathom was then was a bunch of 1's and 0's stored on a hard drive and purple, lipstick, flash drive.  Now to have it in my hands with such an awesome cover, is, well it's just awesome.  I'll work on more emotionally, charged, descriptive words later.  And I'm so humbled by those asking for signed copies.  These requests have come in from all over the place.  And as I've been telling them, if it gets to me, I'll sign it.So what's next with Fathom?  The world of Fathom will continue to evolve as this definitely isn't the last time you'll be seeing Demo Ward.  For now I'm focusing on getting feedback, reviews, publicity, word-of-mouth, events, contests, and so many other things I just passed out on my keyboard.  And here I thought writing was, well writing...  But it's an exciting phase to be in.  I'll keep doing my best to put some content out there and answer any and all questions fans have.  Until then, keep and eye out for future updates.  You won't want to miss what's coming.  And for those of you that haven't yet, go getFATHOM! HERE!!I say that as tenderly as possible from my keyboard.   And for those of you that have read Fathom, please leave a review share it with others and lets continue this journey on together.Until next time.

It's been two weeks since the official release ofFathom!I say official tenderly as this was a learning and growing process.  The process actually started years ago when I first wrote Fathom.  Then, about a year ago, I got serious about my author platform and began pushing myself out there.  It's crazy to think it's been that long and that I've wrote 5 books since.  I'm now working on my latest and am asking, Where'd the time go?In process I've received various emails asking questions about both me and my books.  Initially I addressed those questions as often as time would permit via my video blog.  Since then, I've had another addition to my family, a baby boy.  Now I've transitioned into more of a livestream platform until I can settle back into my video blogging habits.  I really appreciate all the feedback from my fans out there and their involvement.  It's an extremely steep slope to climb in this business and you all help me step-by-step.Now toFathom...(SPOILER ALERT) Fathom is a part of a series I came up with a few years ago.  The series name is AC - or the Anunnaki Covenant. More on that to come.  My initial idea was to form three distinct characters, Demo Ward being one of them.  To do so, I put aside three different stories, that are tied together (if you pay attention), to introduce them.  Fathom is the first of the three to be released and will be followed by Brink.As I continue to write these books I'll delve deeper into what makes Demo Ward, Demo Ward.  You'll see how each character's personality drives consequences and results.  You'll also see how they operate both solo and together.  But rest assured there's a lot of tantalizing plot twists and action to come!I hope that for those that have already read Fathom that you'd take the time to leave a review.  In this business of fish swimming with whales, a review makes all the difference.  And keep asking questions!  I'll do my best to be responsive to them.  And most importantly, I hope you enjoy my books.  There's so much more to come and I want to have you all continue being a part of it.Thank you so much!

As promised I am releasing a chapter from my finished book,Fathom.  Now you may be asking that if it's finished why isn't there a book out yet?  In short, the process...  Oh the painful, yet necessary, blood-sucking, life-siphoning process.  But there's a light at the end of this tunnel, it's so close to being done.  But in the mean time I'm putting out a free chapter to all those who want it!That's right, I saidFREE!But I'm also going to get aFREEcopy, that's rightFREE, to the few exclusive people who jumped on to my mailing list (subscribers for the tech inept) early on!  This will be coming soon so be watching your email box!  You'll know who you are soon enough. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being so freaking awesome!Next in line is building.  In this business I'm nothing without followers, and I mean that.  To say I'm a small fish in the pond is an understatement, it's more like an ocean.  So really what I'd ask you so kindly is simple, talk.  If you like the chapter start talking, to me, friends, your dog, even yourself in the mirror (not the healthiest of habits.  I do it all the time).  If you like or dislike something, say so.  You want to know more-ask!  As I keep growing this is theBESTtime to connect intimately with people with mutual passions.  To me this is a community of amazing talent that I'd love to draw from.  So tell anyone that likes, loves or even has the faintest of warm fuzzies to come on board.  I promise I'll try and make it fun.Again, as always, a huge shout out to those who have helped so far!You guys rock!  You will not be forgotten!If you haven't already,SUBSCRIBE!  I've got six more books on the way!  And more to follow!www.mikelparry.comFacebook:  https://www.facebook.com/MikelAParry/For you Tweeters out there:  https://twitter.com/MikelAParry

As promised-Fathom Chapter 1!  This only touches the tip of the iceberg (trust me things get crazy, in a good way) but provides a good intro towards two of the books main characters, Demo Ward and Bob Cat.  Enjoy!  (Pardon the formatting, there's no pretty way to get it right.)CHAPTER 1 – CUERPO MORTO“Blood, blood spatters, and more blood. It’s always got to be blood.”The empty streets of a barely held together neighborhood encapsulated the harrowing words describing a scene that was still unfolding.“I never understand why you act so surprised. It’s just another Monday.”Two men, standing in the center of a small street that was now clearly a festering ghetto, were having a conversation.  One of the men fidgeted nervously, scratching his arm and slowly scanning the streets.  He was slightly taller than most men and had a wiry frame that belied his meager muscle mass.  Jet black hair sat atop his head like a messy plop of spaghetti.  His eyes were a light hazel color and seemed to adapt to his emotions the same way a chameleon’s skin changes according to its environment.  His mixed ethnicity made him look both plain and exotic at the same time.  He dressed in an old, fuzzy suit that had long since needed to be retired.  Along the ground dragged his worn, scuffed dress shoes, his failed attempt at professionalism made obvious. The man’s name was Demotrius Ward, or as his friends, family, and most of the human population knew him, Demo Ward.  Apart from the name, he appeared as nothing more than another face, passed then forgotten on the street.“Is that what you’re imagining, or is that what you’ve been told?” asked Demo, staring at the other man walking by his side.The other was a scrappy looking Irish man who looked like he had dragged himself out of bed moments before.  His eyes had red runways, which etched their way through his sockets, revealing great signs of sleep deprivation and stress.  He smelled like a familiar brand of soap; Irish Spring, ironically.  His face was a shabby mess.  Atop his head, dirty blonde hair gave way to a pale complexion.  Bob Cathy Briar was his name, emphasized by the very un-masculine chime of his middle name.   He preferred to be called Bob Briar.  Ironically, everyone had dropped the Briar resulting in his being called Bob Cat; a name that always struck a nerve with him.  His body was covered in the tattoos of a violent past.  These scars proved that Bob Cathy Brier had graduated from the school of hard knocks.“I’m imagining.  But to be honest, it’s always the same thing.  I can smell the crap from a mile away.  And it’s a big pile of steaming crap,” said Bob Cat, glaring at some teenagers who were jumping over battered fences.“Look at these hooligans, running amuck without any parental supervision.  It’s no wonder we keep coming back to places like this.”Demo shook his head, allowing only a sliver of his eye to catch Bob Cat’s.“They aren’t all that bad.  Or have you forgotten where we come from?”Bob Cat snorted at his response, his nostrils flaring a bit.“Yeah, that’s why I’m worried about ‘em.”Demo pushed himself a few steps in front of Bob Cat, who was obviously caught up in a memory.  He began assessing the situation, putting all objects of interest front and center, leaving the rest muted for the time being.The area was obviously poor.  Years of ghetto rehab and rehabilitation had stuck the proverbial needle in and out of the downtrodden society so many times, that all that could be seen now were the track marks.  Run down homes, broken-down cars, trashy yards, and flocks of feral, street children were at every corner.  The only items of distinction were the occasional ghetto-rich cars, surprisingly clean and well kept.  Demo closed his eyes and let his mind take it all in.  He needed to adopt this place, understand it, feel it, become it.“Look! Another one of those little pricks just eyed our car!  I’m going to pull out my gun to show him I’m serious.  Punks like that need to learn a lesson.  I never understand why we have to park a mile away from the scene and walk.  It’s a waste of valuable resources.”Demo now looked straight at Bob Cat, showing him how agitated he had become by having his focus broken with such mindless banter.“Look Bobby, you know why.  I’ve explained it to you a thousand times.  I’ve got to understand the area and its people to get the gears moving.  I can’t just show up to a crime scene and know what to do.”Bob Cat shook his head, looking up at the clouds.“Talk about your dog and pony show.  Well, if you think I’m bad, wait till we get up to the blues.  I can’t wait to see what you’re gonna say then.”Bob Cat ripped a piece of gum from his pocket and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing it viciously.“Still trying to quit?”“I quit—just chewing the gum now,” he snapped back.“I think the point of quitting is that you stop chewing the gum.  You’ve just switched addictions.”Demo paused, making sure he had been heard.“Still not sleeping?  Still fighting?”  Demo pressed further.Bob Cat snarled, reminding Demo of his place.  He went back to assessing the area.Worn tires on many cars hadn’t been replaced, which indicated commuters with low income jobs.  Cigarette butts were as common as sand on the beach.  The occasional smutty magazine had made its way into the gutter.  Vice, vice, and more vice—the one thing that flourished in places like these.  The only obvious fauna was the violent dogs that would occasionally lash out at them as they passed.  The teenagers hopping the fences were more than likely members of a gang.  Undoubtedly, they were up to no good, but not enough that he cared to pursue them, especially with a murder investigation underway.I wonder what this place used to look like in its day . . .  It’s good to be home.“Oh, thank anything holy we’re almost there.  I can see the blues parading around still striping up the place.”Bob Cat’s words snapped Demo back into reality.  It was then that he finally saw the house of interest.The house wasn’t much different than the rest—broken, busted, trashy—similar to the home he’d lived in all those years ago.  This meant there were plenty of holes in its foundation that extended far beyond the tangible.  Weeds overran the yard, with the occasional beer can mixed into the fray.  Outside sat a truck with a faded construction company logo plastered to its side.  Demo sped up to the truck, leaving a bewildered Bob Cat behind.“I hate it when you do that!” yelled Bob Cat, still gnawing on his nicotine rich glob.Demo was on his way to the car when he was abruptly stopped, breaking his focus yet again.“Sorry, sir, this area is off limits.  This is an official crime scene.”Demo looked at the finger that led to the hand that connected to the police officer.  He was having a hard time returning to normal behavior.  Instead, he stood there blinking blankly.“Is there something wrong, sir?”“He’s fine,” said Bob Cat, catching up as he heaved and panted.“He’s with me, and I’m . . . we’re part of the detective team.”The police officer looked utterly confused.  He peered at Demo who was still staring blankly back at him.“You walk here?” asked the police officer.“I told you that was stupid,” Bob Cat mumbled to Demo underneath his breath.“What was that, sir?” continued the officer.“Nothing . . .  just hashing things out with my partner. I’m Bob Cathy Briar, and this is my partner Demotrius Ward.  We’re the consultant detectives.”The officer raised one eyebrow to an almost cartoonish height.“Consultant detectives, Demotrius?” the officer questioned.It was then that Demo decided to chime in.“Yes, Demo for short. Don’t ask.  And we’ve got a lot of work to do here, so if you don’t mind.”The officer hesitated while he tried to gather his thoughts.  The prospect of gaining his permission looked rather dim.“Demo, Bob Cat, we’re all inside. Come on in.  Don’t mind him, he’s the new guy.”The voice came from a slender, professional looking woman.  She had beautiful tanned skin that gleamed in the afternoon sun, and she was carefully adorned in pricy clothes that fit her body perfectly.  Her teeth were almost blindingly white, and her eyes a piercing green that could only be trumped by her wild, streaky hair.  Various shades of blonde and brunette covered her head, all purposefully placed with immaculate detail.  By the way she carried herself, she clearly felt in charge.  Her name was Jacky Stolckholm.The officer glanced at Jacky before nodding his head reluctantly, still caught up in the awkward situation.“About time I saw a familiar face around here,” said Bob Cat, blowing past the officer on his way towards Jacky.Demo followed, giving a small nod to the dumbfounded officer before peeking inside the car; beer cans, piles of crumpled fast food wrappers, and a paper bag filled with protein shakes, bags of almonds, jerky, and a stick of lip gloss in a weird shade of burgundy.“I know it’s a strange name. I’ll explain it to you later,” Demo said to the officer over his shoulder as he went.Jacky gave off an intoxicating scent that had been liberally dosed all over her body.  Both Demo and Bob Cat shook their heads upon arriving within its alluring radius of effect.  But Jacky was all business, dismissing the formalities quickly.“And where in this ghetto have you two been?  I put the call in over an hour ago.”Bob Cat stepped behind Demo, shaking his head.“Out for a nice stroll through the park, as usual,” he mumbled from his hiding place.Jacky looked at Demo for a moment before coming to an inward conclusion.“Still haven’t quit, have you?”Bob Cat’s face grimaced in annoyance.“I’ve quit. I’m just chewing the gum,” he said loudly, catching the attention of a couple of police officers standing close by.Jacky grinned, waving her hand, beckoning them to follow.  She cleared a path with her mere presence.  Any pathetic creature caught in it would glance up, realize its error, and flee for its life.  Her heels clicked and clacked as she walked on the patchy cement walkway that led to the house.  Demo glanced over to catch Bob Cat staring at her swaying hips.“You really shouldn’t look, you know.  It’ll just make things worse,” Demo said, trying to catch Bob Cat’s attention.Bob Cat grunted in response but ignored Demo’s suggestion, his eyes following Jacky’s every step.Within moments, they had arrived at the front door.  Inside was a beehive of commotion.  Men and women darted back and forth, putting up lines of tape while pointing out potential evidence on the floor.  The room was as worn as the outside of the house.  The carpet was an off color brown that had perhaps been a livelier, lighter color at some point.  The walls were covered by one mystery stain after another.  Towards the far wall was a couch, whose back was riddled with holes, burns, and even more stains.  On it sat a man with his head buried in his hands, sobbing.  On the unkempt walls surrounding him was the occasional photo.  The smell of mildew and unwashed clothes permeated the air, drowning out everything else—including Jacky’s scent, unfortunately.  On the floor was a wide arrangement of clutter, just a few cat litter boxes short of a hoarder’s paradise.  The objects ranged from clothing, shoes, leftover pizza boxes, to unwashed dishes and the occasional empty carton of ice cream.  Demo looked up at the photos on the wall and paused for a moment.  Many appeared to contain multiple slots, much like any family would have.  He tried to imagine what it would feel like to come from such a nurturing garden of emphatic love—he couldn’t.The room led to a filthy kitchen, where stacks of dishes and pots seemed to work their way upward like proud achievements to human apathy.  At the kitchen’s entrance was a bag filled with construction tools of every kind. It was surprisingly well organized, and the tools inside gleamed, indicating the care they had received. Demo continued analyzing the room while he walked towards the train wreck of a man on the couch.“Ok everybody, I need you to clear out for a minute,” Jacky said, letting her voice be heard.Demo and Bob Cat looked on as the stammering commotion came to an abrupt stop and began to move outside.“I like it when she takes control,” said Bob Cat.As the people passed the trio heading outside, Demo felt their stares burning right through him.  He knew what he was weird.  Taking them away from doing their jobs while he did his was an ongoing battle he had to wage, case by case.“Not you,” said Demo, seemingly out of nowhere, pointing at the man reluctantly getting up off the couch.Jacky pursed her lips in preparation to clamor away at Demo’s remark.“It’s fine, sweet cheeks, he’s obviously got him flagged,” said Bob Cat, smiling.Jacky spun around to meet Bob Cat directly.“I’d watch your loose talking mouth.  If you were on the force I’d have you canned in a week.”Bob Cat rolled his eyes, waving both his hands in the air.“Oh no, please don’t.”Demo stepped forward, leaving the two bickering back and forth.  He had locked onto his target and was moving in quickly.  Just like a torpedo heading to sink a ship, he took the most direct path, stepping over piles of junk, clutter, and the occasional piece of furniture.  His lanky legs moved with a ballerina-like precision and purpose, his eyes now in an unbroken stare with the sad looking man on the couch.  He arrived just in time to see the man fall into another spout of digression.  Tears streaked down his face leaving a salty residue behind.  But he was interrupted by a rather odd question.“Paper or plastic?”The man stopped sobbing and raised his head, showing his confusion.“I’m sorry?” he said, now looking at Demo who seemed delighted with his response.“Paper or plastic—when you go shopping, which do you use?”This befuddled the man further, who gave a timid response.“Whatever you get, I guess . . . never really thought about it.”“Well, that answers that,” Demo said proudly.The man looked towards the quarreling duo at the door as if pleading for help.  But Demo pressed on.“Build the house yourself?”The man shook his head no while remaining completely confounded.“How long have you lived here, would you say?”The man looked further taken aback, but realized there was no escape.“I don’t know . . . five, maybe six years.  It’s been a while, I guess.”“Kids, no kids?” Demo probed further.“No kids.  We haven’t had much luck that way—Tracy had a hard time with it—and now she’s gone!”At the mention of his wife’s name, he sobbed uncontrollably into his hands.It was then that Demo looked at the couch more carefully.  The man sat in a time-shaped indentation that conformed almost perfectly to his shape.  To his left was a much smaller indentation that must have belonged to his wife.  A few yards away from the couch was the centerpiece of the room; the television.  Demo focused on the TV for a moment.  In an instant, he sat down to the right of the man on the couch.“She sat here?” Demo questioned, looking at the man sternly.“No, Tracy used to sit . . .”“I know; I just had to hear it.  I need you to look this way,” Demo said, nodding his head slightly towards his shoulder.“Say my wife instead of Tracy.  Say it to me direct and nothing else.”The man’s face was now completely plastered with confusion. Again he glanced at the door to see that the once quarreling duo now stood within ear’s distance, silently listening.  Bob Cat met the man’s gaze and gave a stoic nod.  Hesitantly, he turned to Demo and did as he was asked.“My wife used to sit here.”“Again, please,” said Demo, looking straight into the man’s eyes.“I don’t see the point. Could you please tell me why we’re doing this?”“Again, please,” demanded Demo, now with a harsher tone to his voice.The man took a deep breath, trying to control his emotion before responding.“My wife, Tracy, used to sit here.”Demo now took a deep breath as if annoyed by the response.“I said to only say my wife. You added Tracy.”The man looked agitated with Demo’s presence.“That’s because Tracy is her name.”“Was her name,” corrected Demo, interrupting him belligerently.The man stood up.  He was much taller than Demo had realized.  He loomed over him like a shadow cast from a mountain.“You’ve got a lot of nerve, amigo.  I don’t think I’ll be talking to you anymore.”Demo ignored him completely and kept looking at the two impressions in the couch.“What do you do for work?”The man stepped away from the couch.“What does it matter?”Demo broke his gaze from the couch and put it upon the man under question.  He waited silently.“I work in construction.  Like almost everyone in this garbage hole.  So what?  You could ask anyone around here what they do but it don’t mean nothin’.”“Double negative, amigo,” said Demo.  “Did you want to be a construction worker when you were young?”The man shook his head.“No, I wanted to be a basketball player.”“That’s why you came?” said Demo pointing at the floor.  “That’s why you came to the US?”The man nodded his head grudgingly.“They said this was the land of opportunity.  All I see is a bunch of fat pigs and wasted time.”The man’s transition was remarkable.  Bob Cat went to say something, but was shushed forcibly by Jacky’s finger over his mouth.“You met your wife here?”“Yes, we met in college.  I was an exchange student.”“Lots of overtime in construction, isn’t there?  Did your wife work?”The man looked down at the floor for a second, hiding his face.“No, no, Tracy doesn’t, didn’t, work.”Demo looked at the man one last time before staring at the TV.“They sure don’t make those like they used to.  A literal tank of entertainment, solid couple inches of glass going back to a cathode tube or whatever they call it.  Those things are almost unbreakable, keeping everything inside.”The man shrugged not knowing what to say, when out of nowhere Demo sprang up and extended his hand toward him.“Thank you for your time, Mr.—?”The man’s hostile stance relaxed slightly.“Paul. Paul Ortega.”Demo paused as if he had just seen something, then continued.“Well, thank you Paul.  We’ll figure out whoever killed Tracy and bring them to justice.”The man nodded before sitting back down on the couch.  His sobbing came shortly after.Demo paced over to the team, looking like he had just seen a ghost.“The body, where did you find the body?” probed Demo.Jacky pointed to behind the couch.  She went to say something when Bob Cat nudged her in the side.“Thank you,” said Demo, retracing his steps carefully until he arrived behind the rugged piece of furniture.From there his eyes grew wide.  Scanning the floor he saw remnants of the vicious, bloody attack in the form of small droplets of blood dotting the walls and carpet in a malicious pattern.“You found Tracy here?” Demo yelled without looking at Paul.“Yes, she was dead by the time I got here.  Who would do this to her?” he responded, tears streaming down his face.“Who isn’t what I’m looking at right now.”Demo went back to the front door, shoving his way between Jacky and Bob Cat, splitting them in two.  Once at the front door, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  Underneath his breath a million words flew out of his mouth, as if he were rehearsing them from memory, until a moment of clarity arrived.  Turning toward Bob Cat he whispered something.  Bob Cat nodded his head immediately.“I’m Paul Ortega, overworked construction worker from who-knows-what Spanish speaking country.  My dreams of becoming a word class athlete fail and I end up here, just another run of the mill house in the ghetto, as far away from the limelight and prestige as possible.  I’m married to Tracy who I met in college before embarking on what had to have been a wonderful idyllic set-up of the American dream.  Only the dream never came true. It died off and disappeared, faded by time. Until one day I come home from a hard day’s work to find my wife dead on the floor, brutally attacked by some undeniable presence that then left the scene.  Sounds like the classic smash n’ grab leaving me, Paul Ortega, the woeful widower.”Demo paced towards the couch where Paul was sitting.“We spend most of our time here looking out of the digital window at the world that passed us by.  Who knows what rants this television has had to put up with?  But wait; there are always children.”Demo glanced at Paul who was now intently focused on his seemingly directionless train of thought.“Children can make anyone feel accomplished.  Pull you out of your self-pity that can seem so suffocating.  Repair those burned bridges.  But I, Paul Ortega, don’t have any kids. But why?”This struck a nerve in Paul and he stood up.“Just what the hell are you talking about?  You’re some sick freak, you know that?  You’ve got some real nerve talking like that!  You don’t know nothing about me!”Demo vaguely smiled as if Paul’s response had come right on cue.“Because we, the happy couple, can’t have kids—or worse—we tried and failed.  Miscarriages can scar someone for life.  This always comes as the most unpleasant surprise and can really put a hook in things.”The man arose and approached Demo aggressively.  But Bob Cat stepped in between, blocking his path.“Suddenly there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.  Happy couple isn’t so happy anymore.  Time starts to drive a wedge in their relationship, and before you know it, you’re roommates.  The thing about roommates is that they have an uncanny ability to nitpick you down to every detail.  They take for granted what they see every day.”Demo looked at Paul who was weighing the consequences of attacking him outright.  Bob Cat kept a ready hand on his sidearm sensing Paul’s growing hostility.“She was overweight, jobless, depressed, and without child; probably because of a direct relationship between those items, in no particular order.  You start to blame your emptiness on her as if she were holding you back.  Things would have been so different in your skewed reality, if only she hadn’t been she.  Your temper did the rest.  All it took was the right recipe.”“Say one more word and I’ll put my fist through your head!  Don’t you dare talk about Tracy like that!” Paul screamed, now pushing forward only to be met by Bob Cat’s outreached arm.“I wouldn’t,” Bob Cat said, making sure the man could see his hand at the ready on his sidearm.“I live here.  Every day I see this mess.  Every day I see what was supposed to be a fairy tale falling further and further into this.  My once radiant wife is now a blistering eye sore reminding me of my failures as a man and as a husband.  But there’s one thing I pride myself on in a hate-love relationship; my work.  The only damned thing that makes me a man now is my work.  A low paying, stressful job that I’d have never dreamed of taking all those years back.  And, of course, I have my tools.  Each one carefully accounted for like the children I never had.  Like a compartment of emotion where I could proudly look at them and say, at least I have that.  But then comes the day when the boss lets me go. Me, the man, the provider.  What am I now?  I’m a broken man, I’m nothing.  I come home and take it all out on the only target I can blame that’s left—the only logical scapegoat—my wife.”Demo now took a more emotional tone as if the character he had assumed was weighing him down.“We sit at our usual spots before getting into another argument.  I tell her the news and it appears this may be the last straw.  She threatens to leave; lets loose her bottled up emotions about my infertility, my lack of so many things; she can’t live like this anymore.  I lost control.”Demo walked over to the tools sitting inside the large bag, heading into the kitchen, his eyes now watering greatly with conviction.“I’m Paul Ortega—a victim of circumstance, a resentful husband, an unemployed construction worker without his hammer.”Paul’s stance suddenly shifted.  His sobbing burst wide open, even greater than before.  He collapsed to the ground beating his fists against the aged carpet.Demo approached him cautiously, to the shock of Bob Cat and Jacky.  Standing within arm’s reach he continued.“I’m Paul Ortega, and after killing my wife in a passionate rage, I’ve just realized how much she actually meant to me.”With Demo’s final words Paul’s emotions erupted free like a volcano that was long overdue.“I didn’t mean for any of this.  I didn’t want us to live like this.  We were supposed to have the baby; the baby would have brought us back together.  I want to change this; I want to bring her back,” wailed Paul.Demo’s eyes continued to water.  It appeared as if he was on the verge of crying himself.“But the baby never came, Paul.  The baby’s gone, just like Tracy.”Paul’s sadness was almost palpable when to the utter shock of everyone present he let loose his guilt.“It happened so fast.  I was so angry. We were yelling so loud.”Demo nodded at Jacky who ushered in a pair of cops who handcuffed Paul swiftly.“I didn’t mean to—”Demo nodded his head, staring at Paul directly.“I know Paul, but you did.”Jacky and Bob Cat let out an extended gasp for air.  They had been unknowingly holding their breath in anticipation.  Jacky shook her head in disbelief while Paul was escorted out of the house, sobbing uncontrollably.“I don’t know how you do that.  All I know is it saves us tons of money on legal fees.  Only problem is, we have a verbal confession but no murder weapon.”Demo wiped his eyes before responding.“It was his hammer.  In a burst of violent rage it was the first thing that came to his mind.  It won’t be far from here. He didn’t plan this.”Jacky rolled her eyes.“Well, there goes the premeditation.  Mars is going to try and take us around the block on this one if he gets it, that slippery snake. It would have been easier to have Bob Cat shoot him in self-defense.”Jacky turned and waved her hands, ushering the waiting crowd from outside back into motion.“Look for a hammer. It can’t be far.  Don’t wipe the prints or I swear on my life I’ll wipe you from existence!”Demo frowned.  He had just solved a case in a matter of minutes, getting a confession on the spot, but somehow he still felt the void that Paul had left behind.He just wanted to live his dream.  He just wanted to be the man he thought he was.  Why can’t murder be more black and white?“Seriously though, your little parlor tricks work for the blues as long as you get a confession or hard evidence, but I need some answers to how you did that,” Bob Cat urged, standing close to Demo’s side.Demo paused as if rewinding the tape within his head.  He began where it started.“First was the area.  Low income, ghetto, and jot full of broken dreams.  But that’s not what was special.  First there was the yard, a literal forest of weeds.  They didn’t care what anyone thought at this point.  Then came the car . . .”“The construction car?” asked Bob Cat, as if his small piece of detail could help.“Yes, that car.  Inside were wrappers of what had to have been years of fast food binging.  This could mean many things, but to me it meant he didn’t give a damn, and neither did she at this point.  But then there was the paper bag filled with protein shakes, almonds, and an off shaded lipstick.  Could the husband have run to get some groceries?  Was he just helping out?  That’s when my question gave the answer; paper or plastic?  He didn’t have a clue.  Not too surprising as to who might remember that?  Except it was paper.  You usually have to choose paper if given the option, or ask for it yourself.  This required thought.  The fact that he had no recollection meant he hadn’t been the last person to drive the car.  But what would drive someone who never leaves the house to get in the car in the first place?  Ironically enough, weight.  Inside it was blatantly apparent that nobody was even slightly concerned with the garbage kingdom in which they lived; pure and utter laziness. This led to the obvious conclusion that they, like most people in this situation, spent most of their time in front of the mind tube.  Upon inspecting the couch, I discovered the indentations that had been made over their apathetic timeline.  Paul’s was obviously the larger, being a big guy, but next to it I noticed that her indentation wasn’t a far cry from his.  I’m not a physics guy but to me that says overweight, and significantly so.  No doubt this had been part of the heated conversation that threw Tracy out to the car for a thoughtful drive.  She bought what seemed to be health supplements out of naïve desperation before buying something that at one point made her feel beautiful.  An off shade of burgundy that’s no longer in style, she was trying to go back in time to find herself again.  The fight probably restarted at the car when she returned, thus the abandoned paper bag of goodies.  I pressed Paul for his history and status quo to feel what could drive him and his wife over the edge.  That’s when it hit me; kids.  Along their wall were dated frames that had enough slots for a family to fill—a family they didn’t have—but almost did.  This was a big risk to pursue, but the fact that some of the aged frames had actual pictures in them and others did not, gave me reason to believe they’d been expecting.  When I brought this up it enticed an almost violent response, and BINGO! Now to find the murder weapon . . .  I hadn’t seen her body, so this was going to take some creative slander.  But it was Paul’s last shred of pride that doomed him; his tools. They were the only thing he cared about anymore, his last shred of manhood.  Each meticulously organized within his emotional safe house that came burning down by being let go.  But the most important detail was the missing hardware; his hammer.  What kind of construction worker losses or misplaces his hammer?  Well many do, I’m sure, but not when it’s your last piece of twisted humanity.  It made sense that he would use that.  It’s almost poetic really; rage, passion, regret, and years of a smoldering volcano erupting within moments.  Paul did love her.  His emotion was genuine.  But it was his pride that damned him in the end.”Bob Cat blinked then blinked again before shoving a fresh piece of gum into his mouth.  His gnawing ensued.“You’re a freak. You know that, don’t you? But whatever you gotta do to pay the bills,” said Bob Cat, grinning.Demo smiled faintly, quickly fading back into his somber state of emotion.“He spoke Spanish.  I wish I could have seen the dead body.  Not like I wanted to, but they can tell so much.  Cuerpo morto,” said Demo, pondering everything that had transpired.“Cuerpo what?  I’m not following you,” responded Bob Cat.“Cuerpo morto.  Isn’t that how you say dead body in Spanish?  I took Spanish in college back in the day,” said Demo again.Bob Cat shook his head and put his arm around Demo, escorting him past all the obviously agitated eyes of the crime scene team.“It’s cuerpo muerto, Demo. You think you’d get that one down working so many scenes with so many ethnic backgrounds,” said Bob Cat.“Are you sure?  I could swear it’s cuerpo morto.”“Stick to what you’re good at, buddy—pissing the right people off, and putting on a wonderful magic show—I’ll be the one who talks and walks,” smirked Bob Cat.“Talks, walks, and practically swallows his nicotine, all at the same time. Someone who can multitask.”Bob Cat rolled his eyes and stared down the street towards the car they had arrived in over a mile away.  A group of teenagers scattered upon seeing the car’s owner, now carefully watching.“These kids, I swear, they have no respect.  I’d take a belt to each and every one of them,” mumbled Bob Cat.“Patience Bobby, you never know; maybe someday they’ll be the ones fixing this place up,” responded Demo.Bob Cat let out a gargled chuckle beneath the amassing pools of nicotine-rich saliva inside his mouth.“Fat chance, buddy.  I was right about the blood, wasn’t I? Always with the blood.”Demo gazed down at their beat up ride, still sensing nostalgia in the air.“You were right.  There’s always more blood.”

It feels so good to finally be holding a finished copy.  Just go ahead and let it sink in for a moment.  At least that's what I've been telling myself.  A part of me still thinks it isn't real and yet, it is.  Short story needlessly stretched out,FATHOMis completed!  That's right after three renditions, that's right count them up, it now has a squeaky clean copy ready to be ISBN'd, read, cherished and hopefully shared.  I was so mad-happy, mappy in proper English, that I used my new web cam to take an awkward picture!  Please no one creep out and say they know where I live based on my lighting and carpet color.If I don't look to energetic there's a story attached to a two year old who suddenly has a baseless fear of his closet.  But either way let's move things along.  What does it mean for you.  Well if you were one of my subscribers who jumped on board when I was pushing the free copy offer, well you get aFREEcopy!  I might mention it will be a pre-release copy that you'll have long before it hits the actual market.  All I would kindly ask of you is to do what you will inherently be doing anyways,REVIEW IT!  Reviews areEVERYTHING.  Without them I can't get better or make things better.  So for the exclusive people who are on the mailing list, please gut this book open and let me hear from you!  I want yo hear it all.For everyone else who missed the free copy giveaway,SUBSCRIBEanyways.  I''ll be doing giveaways over and over.  I've got plenty of other books and I want to get them into your hands.  But I can't if you're notSUBSCRIBED.  I'll also be mailing the first chapter fromFATHOMto tease a little to set the mood for its full on release.  I know it's been a road to get here but there is so much more to come, bear with me.  As always I've got to thank all my awesome followers and fans!  You guys rock!  Without you I'm just destroying my keyboard one stroke at a time pointlessly.  But there is a point and it's you!  I want you to enjoy my books and get involved as I continue to pursue this passion.Want to help?  Tell you friends to get in on the action.  The word of mouth is priceless, can't stress that enough.FATHOMis coming!Follow me on Twitter> @MikelAParryFacebook>  https://www.facebook.com/MikelAParry/... again!