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Coming July 2016

7/1/2016

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It's shaping up to be a busy month for me. I recently acquired the rights to my second novel, Lost Hours. To celebrate, I gave it a new cover, which you can check out below this post.

The timing couldn't be better, because the third Joe Hooks novel, DESPERATE HOURS, will be released on July 8, 2016. I've been working off and on the novel for the past few years and decided it was time to get it done. 
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There will be a electronic and paperback editions of Desperate Hours.

The current projects I'm working on are Worms (a horror novel) and Solomon's Ring (a sequel to my first novel XIII).

Like I said at the beginning, it's a busy month for me.

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New cover for Lost Hours paperback edition

7/1/2016

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I decided to bring back paperback editions of Lost Hours and thought perhaps it was time to give it a face-lift. Hope you like it.
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In Desperation

5/3/2016

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What would you do to find the one you love?

After Tony's fiancé goes missing, he becomes the police's prime suspect. His closest friend, Pam, is the only one who believes Tony's not involved with Yolanda's disappearance. With little other choice, the pair conduct their own investigation, and soon find themselves in the direct path of a killer madman called, The Bald Man
.

Amazon (Kindle)
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Rococoa anthology is here

12/16/2015

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Where Sword and Soul ends and before Steamfunk begins, there is the Age of Spring Technology and Clockwork. Imagine an alternate universe where chronomancer Benjamin Banneker crafts a world of automatons, clockwork airships and other marvels; where Nat Turner leads a rebellion, killing hordes of vampire slave owners; where the pirate queen, Black Pitch Pauline joins Jean-Jacques Dessalines in defeating Napoleon during the Haitian Revolution. Think Three Finger’d Jack; the pirate, Black Caesar; the Black Count, Nat Turner, and the Stono Rebellion…

THAT is Rococoa! Fourteen masters of speculative fiction have taken a new genre, embraced its established themes and refashioned them in surprising ways and settings. The result is an anthology that defies its genre even as it defines it.

Fourteen masters of speculative fiction have taken a new genre, embraced its established themes and refashioned them in surprising ways and settings. The result is an anthology that defies its genre even as it defines it.


Featuring authors:

Milton Davis 
Kai Leakes
Zig Zag Claybourne
D K Gaston 
Deanna Baran 
​Carole McDonnell 

Emmalia Harrington
Jeff Carroll
S.A. Cosby
​Steven Workman
D L Smith-Lee

Gerald L Coleman
Clarence Young

Balogun Ojetade 

Purchase ebook here 
Purchase paperback here
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PANTHEON: ESCAPE audio now available

12/15/2015

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PANTHEON: ESCAPE by D K Gaston

The story revolves around Michael Quaid, a teenager who has spent his entire life in captivity. One faithful day, he escapes the PANTHEON Foundation facility and is on the run to stay ahead of the people who kept him prisoner.

Michael is naive to the nature of the world around him and quickly finds out he’s out of his depth until he’s helped by a kindhearted stranger.

Hunted by a pair of ruthless Clandestine agents and U.S. soldiers with unique skillsets, Michael's freedom may soon come to a bitter end.

Available here:
PANTHEON: ESCAPE
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PANTHEON: ESCAPE audio coming December 2015

12/4/2015

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Pantheon: Escape audiobook has been recorded and approved. The audio will be available around Christmas for download. 
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My time at the 7th Annual Motor City Black Age of Comics Convention

9/26/2015

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Nice couple purchased The Promise and The Friday House

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Love it when family shop for my books together.

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My table setup. Hopefully it'll be completely bare by the time the conference is over. 

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I'm not one hundred percent sure but it looks like that kid behind her wants her copy of Taurus Moon: Relic Hunter.

Hmm, can't say that I blame him.

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The City anthology post 9

9/25/2015

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Original post by K. Ceres Wright

I’ve been a fan of cyberpunk since I first discovered it in 2003. Yeah, I was 20 years behind the times, but I didn’t care. I felt a new generation needed to know all about it, so I wrote a cyberpunk book, Cog. But I prefer the short story medium, and searched for a place that would welcome a cyberpunk story with Black characters.
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Over the course of several years on Facebook, I’ve gathered 1,000+ friends, one of whom was Milton Davis. From the ATL. He was self-publishing African-themed books and anthologies on sword and soul and steampunk. Then one day, an idea came to him about a city where no one could leave. He posted his idea on Facebook in the State of Black Science Fiction, and a bunch of writers ran with it, posting snippets of stories in the thread, and linking characters, generating ideas. Then someone said we needed to publish an anthology of all the stories. Balogun Ojetade wrote the manifesto. An artist came along by the name of Natiq Jalil, and said he would illustrate it. A music aficionado named Otis Galloway volunteered to write sound tracks. And a multimedia, multisensory book of stories was born. The City. Cyberfunk.
NEON GHOST RADIO: Sentient Rhythmsby DJO2is aka Mr. ThoughtCrime
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NEON GHOST RADIO: Sentient Rhythms
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NEON GHOST RADIO: Sentient Rhythms by Djo2is Aka Mr. Thoughtcrime on Mixcloud


What is The City?

The City began as a sentient organism living inside a large asteroid. For thousands of years, the organism used the asteroid’s gravity to intercept ships from various planets and galaxies, assimilating the crew and wiping their memories, and giving them new jobs, families, and experiences. No one knows why. It just does. The organism used the assimilated information to build The City and its environment. The first beings to be captured were crew on a Nigerian space vessel. Nigeria was the first to achieve intergalactic travel during the Great Race by the major countries of the planet Earth to be the first to venture outside of the Milky Way.


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And if you want to know more about Knowledge Lateef, Street Preacher; the Ooze; and the Tell, you’re going to have to read the book. It’s available on Amazon: http://ow.ly/SDUXc
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We are the writers, and we call ourselves the Cityzens:

Jeff Carroll
Gerald Coleman
Milton Davis
Ray Dean
Malon Edwards
Ashtyn Foster
Otis Galloway
Keith Gaston
Chanel Harry
Natiq Jalil
Valjeanne Jeffers
Alan Jones
Brandee Laird
Kai Leakes
Edison Moody
B. Sharise Moore
Howard Night
Balogun Ojetade
Ced Pharoah
And Yours Truly, K. Ceres Wright


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The City anthology post 8

9/24/2015

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Continuing from my post from yesterday, I wanted to show you some of the artwork the authors used to give folks a visual for his/her stories.




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From Gene Peterson. He used the following art to help describe the "Wave Witch" a charcter that appears in his piece "Welcome to Liberty"


(artwork): Reality by Eran Fowler


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Also from Gene Peterson. The illustration describes "The Purple," basically a brilliant, calculating crime lord. Also for "Welcome to Liberty"


(artwork): Terran City by Mark Molnar




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From Geral Coleman. 


(artwork) by Kittrix



From Milton Davis. For his character Apunu Drone

We are a people unto overselves. We serve the Hive. We protect the Hive. All that we are, all that we need, all that we desire is contained within us. So we do not reach out to the others...yet they reach out to us. There are only two whom which we share. The City, to which we all owe life, and the Other, who has proven itself worthy of the Hive. We share Life with it, and it shares Life with the others. My fuction is to protect the Hive, and I will do so with my life. It is our way.


 --Apunu Drone


(artwork) by Deardis

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From Kai Leakes. For her character Iset, The Protector


(artwork) by Fredaugis (Frédéric Augis)


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From Keith Gaston. Partial inspiration for my character Noname in the story The Man With No Name. He also appears in Kai Leakes story.

(artwork): Wasteland Cowboy by DarioFish

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The City anthology post 7

9/23/2015

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In the past several days various authors have written about their individual involvements in the creation of The City anthology. What I like to do is showcase some of the posts the authors had contributed in the creation of The City as they were brainstorming ideas for his/her characters and narratives.

(Some of the content may not have made its way into the manuscript since this was during the brainstorming period.)



From author Gerald Coleman 

I tried to tell her about The City. But she was too trusting. It's always been that way ever since I met her at the Dril, down by the Platforms, you know, over in the Nine's. I couldn't believe she was there by herself. Something deep inside me told me this day was coming. But I thought - nah, that's just my own cynicism talking. But I know The City. It's all angles and sharp edges. There's nothing soft about life in this place. Yeah, people talk about The Lush, but that's a dream. The City is always watching. And man, it's patient. But, the moment you slip it's there. Not to catch you, but to devour you like it hasn't eaten in weeks. I should've known falling in love was stupid. Not here, not in The City. Because once you show The City a hint of weakness, it's coming for you. Now, she's gone. They took her last night. Delve said they snatched her right off the street, in front of a zbonji hover truck. She loves gallic sauce on her munda. That was 2 hours ago. I almost killed him for waiting so long to tell me. Even though I know it's stupid to think you can take something back from The City, I'm on the hunt now. Because even though The City took her, I'm going to get her back. Why? My name is Zel, I'm a Hell Hunter, and I love her.

From author Balogun Ojetade

The City is full of people who never get to speak to the dead. Speak WITH the dead, that is.
It’s one thing to talk down at a grave, tears raining onto the headstone, staining it cobalt gray. It’s another thing to talk to the Shedders that claw their way out of the muck, slow of step and speech garbled; filled with thoughts and feelings that once belonged to someone else…and those newly endowed.
Nonetheless, the talking dead keep us mindful of those who have passed on…and that death is just as impermanent as life.

- Lazani Blaq, Body Banker

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From author Kai Leakes

Where can I go? Where can I hide? All I do is run. Running has become so common that it scares me when there is a moment, no a fleeting second of peace.

See in this world, in this place, The City, people like me are only good as objects sought out for our body parts, or those like me, with gifts to bring change. That's why I was a protector and also why the Militia was after me hard.

Well that's not true, the disk I carry with the coordinates to the refugee camp where we all hide is what they want. But they can't have it. I won't allow it! So I run. I run and I fight.

Screaming with the angst of my people through these shifting labyrinth based streets, the Militia and the City can't have me.

And soon they will understand and feel the reason why they will never be able to touch me.

Iset - The Protector





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From author Ced Pharaoh


From the base of sleepless nightmares
to the hallelujahs of heaven's arch
lies in between 
The Lives that dwell in the reality of 
The City.
Around every corner

?
Under every keystroke

?
between spells of craft
are more questions 
than answers.
Existence breathes
doubt.
And Fear.
And Excitement.
What is this place?
Where can a Soul go
to find refuge and security?
Understanding?
Among many
In a Crowd
Still Lost
Alone
Watched by Everyone
and Everything
Ignored.
Fate is stingy
uncaring
Destiny is rude
selfish.
A wicked disposition.
And this is a good day...
in The City.


- Resident of The City.


From author Chanel Harry

This is the biggest nightclub here in the City, heck it's the only nightclub. Everyone whose a partygoer comes here to let loose and shed their inhibitions. The music is dope, the DJ's have the livest music. Each floor has it's own theme. The owner though, I won't talk about him. He does his business while I let people through the doors. One thing I heard about him is that he does business with the runners. I don't know what but that's the rumor. Probably not a rumor because I saw a couple of runners in his office. I don't want to speak to much on him; he's my boss and I need a job.

Wyse, The Bouncer. Club Ooze (Named after the drug).




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From author Milton Davis

'You just won't go away will you? How do they watch us? We all have Tells, everyone of us. Not tails, Tells. Reach behind you head. Now touch the back of your neck. Right there, that's where it is, or rather that's where it starts. The old books...I mean the old vids say It used to implant them right after we were created. But It figured how to make it a part of us, just like your heart, you lungs, your brain. It automatically connects you to the Wave...and to The City. Can it be removed? Yeah. You can have it surgically removed, if you can find a Scalper brave enough to do it. But even the best Scalper can't get it all. It grows back. But you can Purge it. Purging will scour your brain of every bit of the Tell. If you survive it, you'll most likely go crazy. Most do. Those that don't become Runners. But then most folks think Runners are crazy, just controlled crazy. Now that's it. No more questions. You're going to get us snatched.'

-Knowledge Lateef. Street Priest.




From author Natiq Jalil

Contemplating murder...

To murder all of those who murdered me was a simple thing. Especially with Them at my back. But, to add insult to injury, that required a plan. And I had one.

I first had to stop by The River. Make a withdrawal, so to speak.

Before I was killed, I'd used The River as my own personal banking system. That's where I kept the dirt on the scum in high society that my family catered to. My mother was a master of the high society social circuits. Politicians and corporate heads, well-to-do families, they all came to her when their influence wasn't enough. She used her smiles and beauty like a sword. And I was her constant companion, learning all that she had to teach.

But where my mother was light, I was her shadow. By the time I was ten, I'd already learned how I could help her every endeavor reach fruition. I started with kids my age. The sons and daughters of the rich and powerful. I'd drive them into corners that they'd have to stain themselves to escape. I forced them to commit crimes that could ruin their families. Then, I kept their secrets. I became their best friend in the worst way. Almost brings a smile to my face.

Then, there was my father.

My father was famous...

and infamous.

He'd led the Culling that took place 20 years ago. With him at the head, thousands of Believers across 30 wards were slaughtered. Over a thousand by his own hands. He'd become a legend that night. That monster under the bed and in the shadows that never went away, but was never there when you turned on the lights.

The Sun Tower was the epicenter of a night of death like no one had ever witnessed before. Not that anyone really remembers anything before then, anyway. All anyone remembers anymore is The City, and the infectious fear that invaded even the wards that were untouched by the Culling. That was the birth of the taboo that no one escapes, except through death.

My father raised me to believe that The City was everything. He'd risen to heights that caused envy in those around him by brutality and cold calculation. It was because of his brutal nature that he'd been given command of The Left Hand, the group that watched and dealt swift "justice" to those whose who dreamed of escape. Those who hoped. I am definitely my father's son.

With the death of my father and myself, The Left Hand was dissolved and They began to fuel the fear that kept The City breathing. Funny how the politicians and corporate heads can't even imagine that They are in my hands. And that They are coming for the light.

They've pissed me off. I've been pissed for five years, now. And it's about time that these bitches realize.

~Ososi~ on the way to The River



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From K. Ceres Wright

Rain pattered the empty street, almost washing away the plumes of fetid odor from the piles of trash that heralded the unresolved garbage collector’s strike. Despite the rain, the smell rose up like thin tentacles to the upper floors of the Four Seasons building, which had to open its windows to the night because the air conditioning was off—a result of the City’s electricity rationing. As an organic building, the Four Seasons itself decided when to turn off people’s air and water—when it had the electricity to do so. Sometimes residents loudly cursed the building’s decisions, their yelling echoing in the hallway, but they could do nothing to reverse the decision. Some said the building was going insane, turning on the heat in 90-degree weather, or turning off the hot water when it was 20 degrees, but I knew better. She—I called it a she—was punishing wayward parents and cheating spouses with her own brand of justice. People were just too stupid, or stubborn, to figure it out.

My name is Concordat. Formally, a concordat is an agreement between the Holy See and some sovereign government relating to matters of mutual interest. But the Holy See has abandoned its True Purpose, so I took it upon myself to carry it out. I seek the lost, the bedraggled, the poor, the forgotten, and the lame, and make sure nobody f*cks with them. Cuz that’s what the rich and powerful do. F*ck over everyone who’s not in their circle in order to maintain the status quo.

But I’m sick of the status quo. And I’m about to f*ck with it.




From author Gene Peterson

Rhodes

Another shift, another mess. You would think with half the nastiness that goes down in the low levels, where the Sun Towers light doesn’t reach eyes, you would think that something as…bloodless as this would be a relief but…it’s not.
At half past 3rd shift, just outside Trinity, the Soors tried a take down. They went after the new guy…the Rebel who’s been going after the gangs.
Six of them set him…or HER up. There was a rumor going around that the Silvers Cartel were moving into the 215 and had built an outpost at Trinity. Turned out to be bogus; the Soors wanted to go after the Rebel and figured after all the trouble he’s been giving them…
…and the Lords…
…and York’s people…
…and of course us…
…well they figured he’d go after the new outpost, which he did.
But they failed to get him at Trinity…or maybe that’s what he wanted them to think, ‘cause he lead them down, deep down into the lowers, beneath Trinity. All the way down to the hollows in the understructure.
And that’s where one man took out six of the Soors best hitters. Or one woman… or maybe one of the breeds…but never met breeds that work alone like this guy.
Can’t be borged up either because a week prior the Lords tried to get him with an EMP. Idiots shut down the 4th level processor in the process but they didn’t even slow him down.
Or her…
Six Soors…they’re not all that’s down here though.
Looks like a small security contingent. Hardware is wiped but I’ve seen the Purples people before. Killers dressed like business men but armed like hellcats. They clearly came down here to make a try at the Rebel as well. Looks like he got them first.
That’s nine total hitters, all taken down by one guy. Taken down but not killed.
And that’s what bothers me. This guy has disrupted the drug trade, busted two slave nests and brought down a body shop all in less than a month. All without killing a single one of the bastards.
Ward Law couldn't do any better even if half of us weren't on the take to one of the major players. Certainly could not have down it without killing anyone.
But that won’t stop the rumors. They’ll begin thinking this guy is just the tip of some kind of phantom task force of do-gooders; cops looking to actually do the job, just without the paper work. That means they think I’m involved.
…(sigh)…
Been Ward Law in the 215 for longer than most have survived without crossing over to the dark. Tried to be a good cop…figured I was the only one who went against the flow of the CITY…but here’s a guy looking to upset the system. They’re all gonna think I’m helping him alright. And the regs? They’re gonna dare to hope and dream…they’re gonna be inspired.
…Right up until the CITY notices.

Ward Law Detective in Command, Naj Rhodes. Deep below



From author Keith Gaston


A glint from the ceiling lights reflected off the dark spherical visors as he stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself to the four patrons sitting at the table. Wearing black from head to toe, the stranger looked totally out of place in the bright cyber café. Cladded in a Stetson hat, long leather trench coat, armor-plated vest, an utility belt draped around his waist equipped to the hilt with gadgets, and an assault rifle slung over his right shoulder; he knew he made an impression on folks. But what stood out most about him was the full face mask with mirror lenses. When people gazed into those glass eyes of his, all they could perceive were their own stares. The effect chilled most and he reveled in knowing that.

--No Name




So now that you've had a taste of The City, pack your mental bags, jump on the mothership and head into The City anthology for the ride of your life.
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    D K Gaston is the author of mysteries, thrillers, and paranormal fiction. He is a resident of Michigan, and married with children. He is currently working on his next novel.

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