Beyond the End of the World, a Lokians rerelease

So check this

Lokians cover 1

You see this crummy picture? This is the best cover that Eternal Press was able to create for Lokians 1, Beyond the End of the World. Between this God awful art, the lack of editing, incorrect formatting, and a price of $6.95 for an e-book, it’s no wonder no one bought into the Lokians series, but that’s okay!

Here’s the new cover

lokians beyond the end of the world cover

Look at the difference between those two covers. You know how much this cost? $6

So, here’s the deal; I’m doing one final round of editing, and then I have to double check the formatting, and then, Lokians 1, Beyond the End of the World will be set for a re-release. This is going to be a whole new edition.

It’s the same sci-fi story, for sure, but everything has been edited to my standard of quality, and I’m going to sell the e-copy for the low low price of…nothing. It’ll be free.

Stay tuned!

Update!!!

Beyond the End of the World, Lokians 1 By Aaron Dennis

Beyond the End of the World, Lokians 1
By Aaron Dennis

Is free! Get it from Smashwords

But don’t just buy books from Smashwords. Sell books through Smashwords. Smashwords offers a super simple type of affiliate marketing where if you simply post a referral link on your site, and people buy the book through your link, you earn a portion of the sales.

Got a bookblog? Constantly discussing books with friends? Well, then, you’re selling books. Might as well earn a cut. Learn more here.

Hunting

 

Hunting By Aaron Dennis
Hunting
By Aaron Dennis

Hunting is a zombie short story. A survivalist is glad to be killing zombies with his trusty machete while seeking a new meaning of life.

Hunting is available for free through BnN and Smashwords.

Here’s an excerpt….

It is a bright night; no clouds and a crescent moon. All the stars sparkle in the blue-black sky. Mr. Gray does a perimeter check. Remember, some zombies stick to their old routines. Some zombies were bums.

There is no one. There are no animals. No signs of struggle or danger exist, so Mr. Gray walks in through a broken, glass door. Extra careful not to step on any broken glass, he painstakingly focuses on his surroundings, and his feet. Once inside, he pauses another moment, still listening.

Quietude, no movement. Time to peruse the aisles.

Many open containers line the aisles, but they have been picked clean. Likely the work of ants. Amidst the refuse are some plastic bottles. One bottle of pop is still closed. He takes it and smiles. Ever so slowly, the survivor turns the cap to muffle the cracking of plastic. He drinks the whole bottle then puts the cap back on. He places it quietly on the ground; a strange habit of hiding of his presence.
Upon completion of his ritualistic behavior, Mr. Gray sees two more bottles, water bottles.

The best of all. Liquid gold.

He repeats the same procedure with one bottle. The other goes in his pack. With his thirst slaked for the moment, Mr. Gray leaves the store. Hours of traveling turn to monotony, but feral, zombie animals come charging from the wood line all too often.

Well, wherever this is, there is no wood line.

The area is dry and rocky. Mr. Gray keeps walking. Often are the times that a survivor comes across a broken down vehicle. Vehicles are a great source of used motor oil. Unfortunately, they are usually on the interstates or highways; Imes is neither. It is a country road, expansive, with a dark, hazy horizon.

Country roads have houses. Sometimes houses have people. Usually they have zombies.

Sometimes, when there are people, the survivor stays for a few days and gives them lessons on survival. The people he finds are never the original owners of the house. Squatters always try to find a safe haven. Mr. Gray knows there are none, not permanently.

He spends the night walking down this road. After a long while, it changes names, but the sign is worn and unreadable. Pressing on, there a few structures along the way; mostly department stores, gas stations, restaurants.

Restaurants are good places to sleep if there are no rats. Large coolers in restaurants are great places to hide. One has to double check the interior lock, though. Most of them are safe. The rubber seal keeps the human scent and sounds hidden. The interior lock is usually a round metal knob attached to a metal rod. If you’re locked inside, you can push the rod forward and it pops the door open. Sometimes they are different. If they are, don’t use them.

Amidst the squalor of an abandoned strip mall, Mr. Gray spots a familiar shop. The name is worn away, but he recognizes the chain; an old clothing and house wares franchise.

Something to eat…that’d be a-okay. At the beginning of the ordeal, back in 2017, so many people ransacked the bulk of the food supply. Though the stray can of tuna is more rare than gold bullion, most people are stupid and leave the candy bars behind. Mr. Gray does a quick perimeter check.

No one. He moves to the door and slowly pushes it open. Peering into the darkness, he takes a silent step inside. Poised and with breath held, the survivor listens.

There is definitely scurrying.

Mr. Gray remains still for a second. The scurrying is difficult to locate; it is a large store. He slowly pulls the machete from his hip then squats down low and carefully inches deeper into the building. The scurrying sounds small, like rats, but sounds can be fooling.

Moonlight reveals cashier lanes. They’re a great source of candy bars. With the scurrying growing quiet, Mr. Gray opts to calmly and slowly approach the nearest lane. Unfortunately, it is picked clean. He frowns beneath his hood, but wastes no time and moves to the adjacent lane. It is also picked clean.

The scurrying resounds. It could be roaches. They are surprisingly loud for their size. The scurrying stops. Always a bad sign.

The survivor deftly jumps onto the counter and remains in a squatted position. The little scuttling starts again and is coming nearer; about ten feet away, then five then directly below. A small dark shape moves about on the ground. It elongates itself. Rats often stand on two feet and sniff the air. It shrinks back down. Mr. Gray
sheaths the machete and removes his pack.

He holds it above the shape and then lets it go. The pack falls on the creature with a soft thud. Mr. Gray listens. No sounds.

He hops off the counter and slowly checks the other isles. Peanut butter crackers and a few candy bars is all that remains. With a nod, he nabs what he needs before walking back to his pack. Again, he mounts the counter. There, he unsheathes the machete, leans over, and places it through a loop at the top of the pack. Upon pulling it
off the ground, the little creature scurries out from underneath.

A normie rat.

With food and water, Mr. Gray quietly leaves the house wares store. A good place to stay for the night beckons, and the road is inviting. He walks across a few intersections. The last intersection is Willow and Fears. A suburban development looms nearby.

These places were the first to fall apart. Suburbanites are never prepared for calamity.

At the grimy entrance of the development, a worn sign is mounted askew. Whatever name the community had has long been forgotten. All the houses here look the same; similar architecture, similar color, similar destruction. Windows are broken out. Doors are beat down. Many houses are burned.

Looters hit these places first. Nothing like the suburbs to find what you want. Zombies like the suburbs, too. Zombie people, zombie animals, zombie haven.

The survivor draws his machete. Suburb attics are safe for a night or two, but are often devoid of supplies. Sheds are good for tools, but they are almost always picked clean. With a glance at the street lamps, which are busted out, Mr. Gray opts for skulking in the darkness to a run-down door step. There, he finds the door off its hinges. Peeking
in with ears perked, he listens.

A guttural sound breaks the silence. Zombies are terrible hiders.

Mr. Gray removes his pack and places it next to the door under a small, withered bush. While carefully entering, the sound of dragging feet rumbles through the void. The position of the house makes it nearly impossible for moonlight to shine inside.

I can’t see you, you can’t see me. Mr. Gray smiles behind the wool mask. He places the machete over his right shoulder allowing it to rest. His grip is soft around the handle to facilitate quick movement. Rigidity is death.

Patiently waiting, he thinks of his gear. It has not been oiled in some time. The human smell is sure to attract zombies. A crash, like falling pots echoes, drawing his focus. Another groan and dragging feet sound. Now, they drag with purpose.

Taking a few more steps further into the room and positioning himself facing the doorway, he sees a window, or where one used to be. The soft glow of moonlight reveals layers of dust on the stained carpet. Mr. Gray scrambles over and ducks just under the window. Wherever the zombie is, it will have to walk towards him thus providing the advanced position. A minute goes by, then two, three.

This is why we stretch, why we keep in shape.

An oblong figure shambles in the darkness and then Mr. Gray sees it. For a second or two, the silvery light was right on its face. It had one of those lop sided heads. Sometimes the affliction causes physical deformation. The zombie is wearing a torn, blue, dress shirt. Mr. Gray can’t see any lower than the creature’s chest, but that’s all he
needs.

By extending his left leg out, he sidles closer right beside the zombie. The zombie sniffs and shudders; a full body jerk, like a dog’s ears when it hears something ensues.

That’s it, asshole. Mr. Gray slashes at a rotten leg, and the creature immediately buckles. Slobbering and groaning, the creature attempts to stand, so the survivor chops at the hands, too. One comes off, and the other is left hanging on by a thread. Calmly and
lithely, he steps over the zombie and stands beside it, looking down at the base of the skull. The zombie clumsily tries to turn, but is unable to right itself with bloodied nubs.

Mr. Gray brings down the blade, and the creature’s head nearly comes off. One, more hack. Ok, maybe two. The head rolls off. Mr. Gray waits and listens. Nothing, for the moment.

Thanks for reading.

Don’t just buy books from Smashwords. Sell books through Smashwords. Smashwords offers a super simple type of affiliate marketing where if you simply post a referral link on your site, and people buy the book through your link, you earn a portion of the sales.

Got a bookblog? Constantly discussing books with friends? Well, then, you’re selling books. Might as well earn a cut. Learn more here.

Get backlinks for a dollar

What are backlinks, and are they still relevant?

Backlinks are URLs that lead from a website back to your website, and yes, they are still very important to aspiring entrepreneurs.

I want to give everyone an opportunity to link back to my web site.

I’m an author, an editor, and an entrepreneur myself. I work with many other individuals; from cover art designers, to other authors, editors, bloggers, reviewers, artists, affiliate marketers, and small business owners.

Together, we build a sort of freelance community, and often times, I’m asked if I know someone in a particular field, and most likely, I do.

On top of that, my site sees regular traffic; everyday, more and more people visit my site to see artwork, check out books, or read reviews or blog posts, and many times, I feature other people and their products, sites, or posts.

I’m offering everyone a chance to backlink to my site on my special backlinks page.

Why backlink to my site?

Rather than spending as much as twenty dollars to add a single book to a site like IAN, which only attracts other authors, and gives readers no incentive to drop by and purchase books, I’m only charging a dollar to link your site to mine permanently.

Whether you’re a product reviewer, an aspiring artist or writer, an editor, an animator, a musician, a voice actor, a producer, anything at all, and you have a business, service, or product page–this must be a professional page not a personal page– and you want to generate better search engine results then you need more backlinks, on a relevant site like mine, where not only will Google reveal you to the public, but others in your field can find you by just scrolling down my backlinks page.

For one dollar, I will permanently add a descriptive link back to your site, author page, artist page, or business page, and I’ll even write a short blog post to advertise you and your services or products, which I will promote.

All you need to do is click the PayPal button, and in the notes, place the URL of the page you want backlinked. I’ll do  the rest; I will check out your site and write a positive post based on what I see.

Let’s show all those mega corporations what the power of people banding together can accomplish.

Eudora

 

Eudora By Aaron Dennis
Eudora
By Aaron Dennis

Eudora is the first short story I wrote, a sort of weirdo-horror short story about a young girl, who was left as a baby to fend for herself in the dark basement, and so she becomes a feral child until she’s rescued by her grandfather. Enjoy the excerpt and download it for free!

Things have a funny way of working out. The irony is that no matter what one does, how hard someone tries to become something, to make something of oneself, those forces at large have a way of putting things back the way they were, the way they were meant to be. Eudora was no exception.

****

It was a balmy day. The sun was setting. Eudora, with her abnormally large teeth, thick rimmed black glasses, pasty white skin, stringy black hair pulled back tightly, save the bangs; they hung loosely to either side of her face; she was not the image of beauty. Her big blue braces moved up and down as she spoke. Maybe it was the braces, or the big, fake teeth in the front, but she spoke like her tongue was too big for her mouth.

They sat on the hood of the old, gray Cadillac, Eudora and her friends. They weren’t her friends of course, but she didn’t understand the difference. They were Charlie’s friends. He was her younger brother. They were quite a few years apart, but that would be obvious soon enough.

“You should just go ask him, Eudora”, Patty said. She was a tall, strawberry blonde with a light tan. “He’s been giving you the eye all day.”

“I can’t do that. I never even said hello to him before. He’ll just laugh at me.”

Eudora’s response was more out of knowledge and certainty than sadness. Sadness had no real meaning to her.

“Well, whatever, it’s not like he’s got anyone anyway. Larry ain’t exactly prince charmin’, is he?” Joe sniped.

He was Patty’s boyfriend, but not in the traditional way of family values. This time it was the 70’s, but before it was the 70’s it was just a dark basement with nothing to do, but scratch at the walls. People in the 70’s were a concept Eudora was unable to grasp. You have to understand, Eudora isn’t from this time; she isn’t from anytime really….

Charlie was coming home from work. He was trying to make enough money this summer to apply at the local community college come winter. His grandfather helped him get a job at the mill, and Charlie was learning all sorts of things; how to work the lathe, the planer, he could smooth a board like it was no one’s business, but these things didn’t interest him. He, like his sister, was born in one life, but was learning to become someone else.

College was his ticket. He’d turn from a sweet, country boy to a calculating businessman, or that was the goal anyway. Unlike his sister, Charlie was dark and fair haired. Most people never guessed they were family, except they shared their grandfather’s features; slim nose, big eyes, blue, all three of them.

Charlie pulled up in his Ford pick-up alongside the Cadillac. Dust kicked up. Joe and Patty covered their eyes and patted themselves off. Not Eudora, maybe it was her glasses, maybe it was something else; she never made an effort to dust herself off either. She just looked at Charlie. Her oversized pearly whites and blue braces showed as she grinned.

Get it free on Smashwords

Get it free on BnN

Don’t just buy books from Smashwords. Sell books through Smashwords. Smashwords offers a super simple type of affiliate marketing where if you simply post a referral link on your site, and people buy the book through your link, you earn a portion of the sales.

Got a bookblog? Constantly discussing books with friends? Well, then, you’re selling books. Might as well earn a cut. Learn more here.