The old leather high-backed chair squeaked as Victor Bennett settled down at his desk to read his current copy of the Journal of Applied Physics. Victor’s home office was his sanctuary—peaceful, comfortable with a hint of lemon wood polish, and most of all, convenient—it beat the commute twice a week.
Buffy, a tan-and-white pit bull with a face of white hair showing her age, slept on a dog bed in front of the wall of overflowing, floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Buffy had one ear pitched up; always in watchdog mode.
Certificates and awards adorned the walls, including a framed photo of Victor with famous British theoretical physicist, Stephen Hawking. Science prizes and exquisite images from space shuttle missions and the Hubble telescope completed the room.
Victor reached over to the dark cherry wood desk and grabbed a mechanical pencil. His eyes rested on a silver framed photograph on the corner of his desk. It was a reminder of a bygone time. If the house ever caught fire, he would rescue that picture before he would grab his cell phone or laptop.
The picture depicted a handsome man in his late forties, a striking blonde teenaged girl in an unusual silver-gray formed jumpsuit, two young towhead boys, and a nerdy looking dark- haired guy, about twenty-five, in sloppy clothes with cockeyed, black-rimmed glasses from being glued together so many times.
~ ~ ~
Gifts from Thol (Book 2) will be available December 2018.
This begins with the Prologue — it is quite long, but an important world-building for this dystopian novel.
THEN AND NOW AD 2030 – 2086 NWO*
The year 2086 is referred to as the beginning of the New World Order (NWO*), and it had taken its toll on humanity. To understand the before and after of this single year it would be advantageous to take a step back in time and peruse the vast changes of the past fifty-six years.
Many people have an inner struggle with change. They don’t want to move an inch out of their comfort zone. The familiar, whether it’s good or bad, is easier than learning new rules, especially when it concerns everything about their daily life. Some welcome change with open arms. They are optimistic about crossing the bridge and enjoying what’s waiting on the other side.
After more than a decade of people wondering whether they would have Social Security when they retired, the SSA was finally overhauled in 2035. A new numbering system incorporated a genealogical data gathering/compilation that left nothing private.
The old nine-digit number grew. Depending on an individual’s ethnicity, religion, sexual grouping, and medical criteria, the number ranged from fourteen to twenty-five digits. Memorization was a chore.
Also on the horizon, a global government was emerging and the lineup of powers shifted for another decade.
Alma moaned from the sheer physical desire for him. His lips, mouth and hands sensually attacked her, sending spasms of pleasure throughout every part of her body, mind, and soul. The intense sensation devoured her mind, holding her in bondage.
Long auburn hair fanned out on the cool white sheets making a captivating picture on the huge antique oak spindle bed. The luxurious bedroom, decorated in peach and green, faded as passion burned through her.
Alma traced frantic patterns along his tanned, muscular arms and across his strong back as the onslaught of her senses continued. It was all she could manage—her mind was practically gone. Her fingers ran through his thick, blond hair down the sides of his neck to his powerful shoulders as he made love to her.
Her head rolled from side to side as his body moved along hers, allowing his lips and hands access to more delights. She couldn’t stop herself from gasping, moaning.
~ ~ ~
“Mark.” She woke with the name dangling on her lips, his features etched on her brain as an invaluable keepsake. She was soaking wet from the dream tryst, but her mouth was as dry as the desert. Her body tingled, alive with sensations from a night spent in his arms—or so it seemed.
The dream had been so real.
Was it a dream?
For Bonded and all Steamy books I am using the pseudonym of DG Ireland.
~ ~ ~
Roman Davenport stood naked in the grass outside of his secluded house on the edge of the forest. Not a cabin by any stretch of the imagination. His four-thousand square foot house, with floor to ceiling windows in the sunroom on the ground floor and in the upstairs bedrooms, would be the envy of his friends—if he had any.
A deep porch with round columns was at the front of the house. Off to the side stood a five-car garage with two empty slots. He didn’t have to worry about anyone gawking—he owned the two-thousand acres surrounding the house.
At six-foot two and weighing in at two-hundred-twenty pounds, his sinewy body sported powerful strength. Roman had the body of a god. A six-pack ab, muscled thighs and arms—his body had a natural musculature that men begged their trainers to deliver.
Thick black hair fell to his shoulders sweeping across his tattoos. One arm sported the head of a black panther just below his shoulders. A tattoo of a black panther was on his back.
At forty, he had everything. A company that made him millions, women falling at his feet loving his unnatural bright green eyes, and every comfort available to the modern millionaire.
What was missing were true friendships and love.
As he gazed into the forest, forlorn, he raked his hair.
I can’t continue alone, he thought.
He had great relationships with his employees. He was respected in the community. But he was drowning in loneliness.
Roman drew in a deep breath savoring the earthy aromas of the trees, the ground and everything around him. He listened to the birds and the scurrying of squirrels. He glanced at the ground.
I can’t go another twenty years like this.
My heart is empty.
Where are my people? My kind?
Deep pain etched his face from his thoughts. He shook it off, looking around.
It is what it is but I’m sick of this shit.
Roman stretched out and leapt forward. He transformed into his panther. He shook himself.
The big cat, much larger than an actual panther in the wild or at a zoo, took off running into the forest at full speed.
~ ~ ~
Tothars, book 2, will be available January/February 2019.
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