Jason Mizer's Blog - Posts Tagged "psychological-thriller"
Step Into Desolation—Read Chapter 1 of The Animal In Us
What does it take to survive when the world is nothing but ruin?
In The Animal In Us, Tetch is no hero—he’s a man shaped by violence and survival. But even he isn’t sure what he has left to give… or to lose.
Here’s a look at Chapter 1.
Tetch trudged through the desolate landscape. His worn boots crunched and slipped over the uneven path in front of him. Broken chunks of concrete shifted underfoot. Crumbled brick gave way making a fall likely for anyone not constantly aware of their footing. Bent rebar, toppled and burnt out vehicles, and obliterated homes and businesses barely stood if they stood at all. This was Desolation. It was a bleak testament to the relentless and unforgiving assault of every imaginable munition that had fallen from the sky years ago.
The passage of time only intensified the smell of decay and death that hung thick in the air. The burnt-out husk of a car Tetch had just passed still cradled the charred remains of someone who had once been heading to work. Up ahead, and what was left of the road, a blown out sewer line made the area hard to even breathe as he walked past. This was Desolation. At this point, no one questioned why man decided to destroy itself. No one knew why the bombs fell. They only questioned whether it was safe to go outside.
The once-proud city of Sacramento, now reduced to crumbling ruins, cast long shadows over the ashen ground. Skyscrapers, once symbols of prosperity and a testament to human ingenuity, were now nothing but mounds of rubble. They were massive graves that served as monuments to a civilization lost in the throes of its own destruction.
The air itself seemed to carry the weight of sorrow, thick with the remnants of a bygone era. Every inhale felt like a struggle, as one’s lungs grappled with the polluted atmosphere that hung like a shroud over the landscape. Thick dust, ash, and worse muted the sun, creating an otherworldly dance between an orange-hued darkness and pitch black. This was the desolation that now gripped the world.
Amid this bleak and decaying reality before him, Tetch passed what had once been a vibrant playground—a poignant relic of happier days. The one remaining swing still attached, now weathered and cracked, screeched mournfully with each push. Gone were the laughter and innocence it had once been made for. Gone was his daughter Gracie. Gone was his wife Milana. Gone were the days they once spent at this very park smiling and enjoying the fruits of life. An undertow of emotion swept at his mental state misting his eyes. He pushed it away. Gone. All gone.
A rusted seesaw, its once-vibrant colors covered in thick ash, now stood frozen in a perpetual state of abandonment. Tetch’s fingers brushed over the corroded metal of the swing’s frame, tracing the remnants of a world long since consumed by Desolation.
As Tetch journeyed through this unforgiving terrain, each step echoed the struggles of a world grappling with its own demise. Before him stood City Proper and the ‘Skirts; though shielded by walls that the ‘Skirts had become from whatever lurked in Desolation, no one was spared the harsh realities of their surroundings. Roving gangs surviving under the new rules of complete anarchy brought about by the destruction of the bombs were another reality Tetch had to either contend with or steer clear of.
As Tetch journeyed through the unforgiving terrain, each step echoed the struggles of a world on the brink of collapse—grappling with its own demise. Before him lay City Proper and the ‘Skirts. Though the ‘Skirts provided some barrier from whatever lurked in Desolation, no one was truly spared. Roving gangs, thriving in the lawlessness brought by the destruction of the bombs, were yet another threat Tetch had to either confront or avoid.
Off in the distance, the wailing of Desolation’s Child echoed in the night. It sent chills down his spine. Once more, he resisted the urge to think of what he had lost, and how he had lost it. Desolation’s Child was far enough away though. The way forward was safe enough—for now.
Tetch breathed in hard, catching his breath. He shook his head and thumbed a floating bit of ash from his nose. His stomach grumbled. Tetch was hungry. He pushed the thought of food aside though. He was not hungry enough to stop and do something about it. Desolation demanded he move, and move quietly.
The path ahead, marked by jagged remnants of what was once civilization, posed a relentless challenge. He pressed on. A lone figure in a desolate expanse of unsure footing, he took the path that very few dared walk. The remnants of humanity’s achievements lay strewn around him like the bones of a fallen giant. After years of walking them, of braving Desolation, Tetch knew the harder the path, the less chance there was of being followed.
Some of these more dangerous paths also led to a greater field of vision. Scaling one of the remains of what was once the building at 14th and U, Tetch could see for miles around, provided the shifting air and dust gave him enough light to see. He scanned the horizon inward towards City Proper and then outwards into Desolation. Towards the city, a few scattered pinpricks of light flickered from distant fires. Towards Desolation, there was only darkness and sights best left unseen. Upon reaching the height of this path, the distant wailing ceased. Tetch turned toward where the wailing originated, and stifled the scream that formed in his throat. He pushed the raging bear within deeper still. Not today, he thought.
Looking back towards his destination, he could see the few remaining hulking structures of City Proper. They were a danger all their own because only time would tell if they toppled any further. Maybe that’s why The Council chose to sleep near them? It was hard to fathom why The Council did what it did. They refused to abide by the rules of the new world, clinging instead to the very ideals that likely caused the desolation before him.
Tetch’s journey was a pilgrimage through the ruins of a now dead world pretending it was still alive. It was a journey through the heart of darkness, a journey toward man’s own end. And as Tetch ventured forth, every step etched another line in the narrative of a world grappling with its own mortality as it stared down the gaping jaws of what lurked out there—Desolation’s Child.
Want more? The Animal In Us is now available on Amazon & Kindle Unlimited!
📖 amazon.com/dp/B0DXDCXPMQ
In The Animal In Us, Tetch is no hero—he’s a man shaped by violence and survival. But even he isn’t sure what he has left to give… or to lose.
Here’s a look at Chapter 1.
Tetch trudged through the desolate landscape. His worn boots crunched and slipped over the uneven path in front of him. Broken chunks of concrete shifted underfoot. Crumbled brick gave way making a fall likely for anyone not constantly aware of their footing. Bent rebar, toppled and burnt out vehicles, and obliterated homes and businesses barely stood if they stood at all. This was Desolation. It was a bleak testament to the relentless and unforgiving assault of every imaginable munition that had fallen from the sky years ago.
The passage of time only intensified the smell of decay and death that hung thick in the air. The burnt-out husk of a car Tetch had just passed still cradled the charred remains of someone who had once been heading to work. Up ahead, and what was left of the road, a blown out sewer line made the area hard to even breathe as he walked past. This was Desolation. At this point, no one questioned why man decided to destroy itself. No one knew why the bombs fell. They only questioned whether it was safe to go outside.
The once-proud city of Sacramento, now reduced to crumbling ruins, cast long shadows over the ashen ground. Skyscrapers, once symbols of prosperity and a testament to human ingenuity, were now nothing but mounds of rubble. They were massive graves that served as monuments to a civilization lost in the throes of its own destruction.
The air itself seemed to carry the weight of sorrow, thick with the remnants of a bygone era. Every inhale felt like a struggle, as one’s lungs grappled with the polluted atmosphere that hung like a shroud over the landscape. Thick dust, ash, and worse muted the sun, creating an otherworldly dance between an orange-hued darkness and pitch black. This was the desolation that now gripped the world.
Amid this bleak and decaying reality before him, Tetch passed what had once been a vibrant playground—a poignant relic of happier days. The one remaining swing still attached, now weathered and cracked, screeched mournfully with each push. Gone were the laughter and innocence it had once been made for. Gone was his daughter Gracie. Gone was his wife Milana. Gone were the days they once spent at this very park smiling and enjoying the fruits of life. An undertow of emotion swept at his mental state misting his eyes. He pushed it away. Gone. All gone.
A rusted seesaw, its once-vibrant colors covered in thick ash, now stood frozen in a perpetual state of abandonment. Tetch’s fingers brushed over the corroded metal of the swing’s frame, tracing the remnants of a world long since consumed by Desolation.
As Tetch journeyed through this unforgiving terrain, each step echoed the struggles of a world grappling with its own demise. Before him stood City Proper and the ‘Skirts; though shielded by walls that the ‘Skirts had become from whatever lurked in Desolation, no one was spared the harsh realities of their surroundings. Roving gangs surviving under the new rules of complete anarchy brought about by the destruction of the bombs were another reality Tetch had to either contend with or steer clear of.
As Tetch journeyed through the unforgiving terrain, each step echoed the struggles of a world on the brink of collapse—grappling with its own demise. Before him lay City Proper and the ‘Skirts. Though the ‘Skirts provided some barrier from whatever lurked in Desolation, no one was truly spared. Roving gangs, thriving in the lawlessness brought by the destruction of the bombs, were yet another threat Tetch had to either confront or avoid.
Off in the distance, the wailing of Desolation’s Child echoed in the night. It sent chills down his spine. Once more, he resisted the urge to think of what he had lost, and how he had lost it. Desolation’s Child was far enough away though. The way forward was safe enough—for now.
Tetch breathed in hard, catching his breath. He shook his head and thumbed a floating bit of ash from his nose. His stomach grumbled. Tetch was hungry. He pushed the thought of food aside though. He was not hungry enough to stop and do something about it. Desolation demanded he move, and move quietly.
The path ahead, marked by jagged remnants of what was once civilization, posed a relentless challenge. He pressed on. A lone figure in a desolate expanse of unsure footing, he took the path that very few dared walk. The remnants of humanity’s achievements lay strewn around him like the bones of a fallen giant. After years of walking them, of braving Desolation, Tetch knew the harder the path, the less chance there was of being followed.
Some of these more dangerous paths also led to a greater field of vision. Scaling one of the remains of what was once the building at 14th and U, Tetch could see for miles around, provided the shifting air and dust gave him enough light to see. He scanned the horizon inward towards City Proper and then outwards into Desolation. Towards the city, a few scattered pinpricks of light flickered from distant fires. Towards Desolation, there was only darkness and sights best left unseen. Upon reaching the height of this path, the distant wailing ceased. Tetch turned toward where the wailing originated, and stifled the scream that formed in his throat. He pushed the raging bear within deeper still. Not today, he thought.
Looking back towards his destination, he could see the few remaining hulking structures of City Proper. They were a danger all their own because only time would tell if they toppled any further. Maybe that’s why The Council chose to sleep near them? It was hard to fathom why The Council did what it did. They refused to abide by the rules of the new world, clinging instead to the very ideals that likely caused the desolation before him.
Tetch’s journey was a pilgrimage through the ruins of a now dead world pretending it was still alive. It was a journey through the heart of darkness, a journey toward man’s own end. And as Tetch ventured forth, every step etched another line in the narrative of a world grappling with its own mortality as it stared down the gaping jaws of what lurked out there—Desolation’s Child.
Want more? The Animal In Us is now available on Amazon & Kindle Unlimited!
📖 amazon.com/dp/B0DXDCXPMQ
Dystopian Fiction
It’s official—The Animal In Us is live! Writing this book was a wild journey, and I can’t wait for readers to dive into Desolation.
If you love dystopian fiction with raw survival and psychological tension, this one’s for you.
What’s the most haunting dystopian book you’ve ever read? Let’s talk!
📖 Get it here: amazon.com/dp/B0DXDCXPMQ
5️⃣ Publish & Share on X (Twitter)!
If you love dystopian fiction with raw survival and psychological tension, this one’s for you.
What’s the most haunting dystopian book you’ve ever read? Let’s talk!
📖 Get it here: amazon.com/dp/B0DXDCXPMQ
5️⃣ Publish & Share on X (Twitter)!
Tiger Island
One man. One stranger. An island in between them. Who wins?
I’m excited to announce that my next psychological thriller, Tiger Island, is now live on Goodreads — and I’m looking for early readers.
If you enjoy slow-burn thrillers packed with tension, isolation, and the unsettling realization that you might be trapped with something far worse than a man… this one’s for you.
🖤 Want to read it before launch?
I’m offering a limited number of ARC spots. Just reply to this post or reach out through my website:
👉 www.jwmizerwrites.com
Let the island pull you in.
Tiger Island
I’m excited to announce that my next psychological thriller, Tiger Island, is now live on Goodreads — and I’m looking for early readers.
If you enjoy slow-burn thrillers packed with tension, isolation, and the unsettling realization that you might be trapped with something far worse than a man… this one’s for you.
🖤 Want to read it before launch?
I’m offering a limited number of ARC spots. Just reply to this post or reach out through my website:
👉 www.jwmizerwrites.com
Let the island pull you in.
Tiger Island
ARC Readers Wanted for Tiger Island
Want to be one of the first to read Tiger Island — my new psychological survival thriller? Think The Road meets The Beach… only darker.
I’m giving out early review copies this week only (through 5/24).
If you like slow-burn survival dread, strangers with secrets even they don’t remember, and the kind of desperate choices that can’t be undone — this one’s for you.
🐾 Message me here or fill out the form at https://www.jwmizerwrites.com/
#PsychologicalThriller #ARCteam #IndieAuthor
I’m giving out early review copies this week only (through 5/24).
If you like slow-burn survival dread, strangers with secrets even they don’t remember, and the kind of desperate choices that can’t be undone — this one’s for you.
🐾 Message me here or fill out the form at https://www.jwmizerwrites.com/
#PsychologicalThriller #ARCteam #IndieAuthor
ARC Readers Wanted for Tiger Island
🐾 Want to read Tiger Island before it drops June 7?
A psychological survival thriller for fans of The Road and The Beach — with something darker buried beneath.
One man. One stranger. An island between them. Who wins?
I’m offering a limited number of ARC spots.
👉 Claim yours now: https://booksprout.co/reviewer/review...
Tiger Island
A psychological survival thriller for fans of The Road and The Beach — with something darker buried beneath.
One man. One stranger. An island between them. Who wins?
I’m offering a limited number of ARC spots.
👉 Claim yours now: https://booksprout.co/reviewer/review...
Tiger Island
Tiger Island is Live!
It’s here.
TIGER ISLAND is officially live.
This one’s different. More isolated. More personal. A survival story—yes—but not just against the wild. Against memory. Identity. Trust.
Mack has lived alone on the island longer than he can count. But when the sea spits up a stranger, something shifts. A man with no memory, a grin too easy, and a way of moving that stirs ghosts.
What begins as uneasy shelter quickly unravels. And when the storm hits, what washes up threatens far more than just survival. It claws at the mind.
If you read The Animal In Us, you know I don’t write light.
I write to excavate.
And this time, the island’s doing some digging of its own.
📘 Grab Tiger Island here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FC8V4FL7
📘 Follow me on BookBub for new releases: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jason...
📘 Want to chat survival stories, unreliable narrators, or the psychology of solitude? Hit me up on X: @jasonwmizer
And if you enjoy the read, a review goes a long way toward helping indie authors like me keep building.
Let the unraveling begin.
Thank you
—Jason
TIGER ISLAND is officially live.
This one’s different. More isolated. More personal. A survival story—yes—but not just against the wild. Against memory. Identity. Trust.
Mack has lived alone on the island longer than he can count. But when the sea spits up a stranger, something shifts. A man with no memory, a grin too easy, and a way of moving that stirs ghosts.
What begins as uneasy shelter quickly unravels. And when the storm hits, what washes up threatens far more than just survival. It claws at the mind.
If you read The Animal In Us, you know I don’t write light.
I write to excavate.
And this time, the island’s doing some digging of its own.
📘 Grab Tiger Island here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FC8V4FL7
📘 Follow me on BookBub for new releases: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jason...
📘 Want to chat survival stories, unreliable narrators, or the psychology of solitude? Hit me up on X: @jasonwmizer
And if you enjoy the read, a review goes a long way toward helping indie authors like me keep building.
Let the unraveling begin.
Thank you
—Jason
Tiger Island
You survive long enough,
you start hearing things you thought you buried.
The waves.
The wind.
The ghosts.
Then a stranger washes ashore—
and the island becomes a cage match.
Tiger Island is now live.
A psychological survival thriller for fans of The Beach and The Road.
📘 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FC8V4FL7
you start hearing things you thought you buried.
The waves.
The wind.
The ghosts.
Then a stranger washes ashore—
and the island becomes a cage match.
Tiger Island is now live.
A psychological survival thriller for fans of The Beach and The Road.
📘 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FC8V4FL7
