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Dominant Species Teaser

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Horror

Date Published: 11-09-2022

Publisher: Severed Press

 

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Genetic scientists have created a species of virtually indestructible
living weapons, codenamed the Olympians. But they made one mistake: Never
create what you can’t destroy.

After surviving his battle against prehistoric scorpions, mercenary Dave
Brank sought seclusion—a chance to heal in the arms of his equally
traumatized lover, Emily Lennox. Their bliss is cut short when North Korean
agents hijack a dozen genetically engineered dinosaur hybrids from a secret
lab. Brank discovers that these creatures aren’t just mindless, living
weapons—their genetically engineered brains are evolving at a
staggering rate, approaching human intelligence. He grapples with the
prospect of killing sentient beings that never asked to be created, while
Emily discovers secrets hidden within the lab that make her question who the
real monsters are. Brank’s hand is forced when the Olympians escape
their Korean captors, fleeing into the desert to feed on their mortal
enemy—man. But hunting them down places him in the crosshairs of North
Korean assassins eager to reclaim their prize.

Humans and Olympians collide in a deadly showdown, with the winner becoming
earth’s dominant species.

 

Excerpt

Chapter 17

 

Emily was halfway to the veterinary lab when the klaxon sounded; laboratory
doors on either side of her slid open on their own.

“What the hell?”

The lights flickered and shut off. Wall mounted emergency fixtures kicked
in, barely illuminating the corridor. Emily sprinted down the hall,
determined to find Kavanaugh and bug out as fast as possible. She rounded
the corner just in time to see Dr. Giove running in the opposite
direction.

Walsh appeared at the lab window, screaming and frantically pointing at the
door.

Emily realized he was gesturing at an emergency release on the door jamb.
She twisted it and tried to push the sliding door open to no avail. She
grabbed a wall mounted fire extinguisher and hurled it at the window. It
bounced off without doing any damage.

Emily drew the pistol, shouting, “Clear!”

Something leapt onto Walsh. In the dim light Emily could make out that the
thing was at least fifty pounds and glowing. Walsh’s face slammed
against the window, his blood smearing the glass. A moment later, he dropped
out of sight.

Emily spotted Kavanaugh at the far side of the room trying to hold back
another creature.

It was a losing battle.

Emily took two steps back, raising the massive revolver. She pulled the
trigger, but the hammer clicked on an empty cylinder.

“Shit!”

The creature reappeared, pressing its face to the window. Bulging pink eyes
glared at her with rabid intensity. Its bloody fangs scratched at the
reinforced glass.

Emily pulled the trigger again. The pistol kicked like a mule, slamming her
against the corridor wall, a sonic boom echoing in her skull.

The massive .454 Casull round tore through the window, blowing the Harpy in
half. The flattened projectile continued its trajectory, detonating an X-ray
machine in a shower of glass and metal shrapnel.

Emily surveyed the damage, her eardrums throbbing. There was a
basketball-sized hole in the window and the remainder had spiderwebbed.
After two hard kicks the window collapsed
 into a thousand shards. She climbed into the dim room, pistol at the
ready.

Walsh lay sprawled on the floor, his body wracked with convulsions, face
and neck covered in bite marks. Massive boils erupted on his skin then
burst, as if he were being cooked from within.

The Harpy at the window had been blown in half; another lay writhing in a
pool of blood at the center of the room, its body peppered with shrapnel
from the X-ray machine.

Emily’s mind flashed back to her travels in Zimbabwe, where her
guide’s car had been besieged by a troop of baboons. The Harpies
resembled those vicious primates, right down to the bared canine fangs. But
the Harpies looked like they’d been flayed alive, with sinewy muscle
and throbbing veins visible beneath milky, translucent skin. Their organs
glowed from within, like some deep sea creature.

They were a nightmare made flesh.

The thunderous pistol shot had sent the Harpies into a momentary retreat.
Emily heard the clatter of falling surgical instruments near the wall and
spotted a glowing shape slipping behind some machinery. Four more were
lurking around the perimeter of the room, using the equipment as cover. She
heard a crash to her right and spun around, weapon cocked.

Kavanaugh popped up from behind a cardiac monitor, shouting,
“Don’t shoot!”

Emily climbed up onto the main surgical table, yelling, “Try to get
over here.”

Kavanaugh took a few furtive steps. The boldest Harpy vaulted over a
diagnostic machine, coming straight for her. She raised a steel tray,
blocking the attack, but the Harpy kept pressing forward, its long fingers
gripping the edge of the tray.

Emily lobbed a plastic bin of surgical tools at the Harpy, shouting,
“Hey!”

It turned, locking eyes with Emily. A heartbeat later it pounced, landing
atop a blood analyzer then launching again, straight at her.

Emily raised the pistol and fired. This round was .410 buckshot. Three of
the five lead balls caught the Harpy midair, sending it rocketing backward.
It landed in a bloody heap near Kavanaugh.

Emily shouted, “Come on!”

Kavanaugh hopped onto an examination table and grabbed a ceiling mounted
surgical light then swung herself over to the next light, latched on to it
and swung again. She landed like a gymnast on the surgical table next to
Emily who was stunned by the frail-looking woman’s
 grace.

Kavanaugh pointed at the shattered window. “They’re blocking
the way out.”

Emily saw that three of the Harpies had circled around, strategically
blocking the only exit.

Emily muttered, “So much for being afraid of guns.”

One of them bounded across the room on all fours; Emily kicked a nearby
gurney sending it toppling over, pinning the Harpy under the dead security
guard. Emily shifted her focus to three more clustered near the containment
area entrance. One charged at the operating table, shrieking like a banshee.
It covered half of the distance on all fours before leaping. Emily fired,
hitting it midair with the buckshot load’s full force. The Harpy burst
like a piñata, chunks of it flying back into the pack. The others
shrank back, but Emily knew their retreat wouldn’t last long.

Kavanaugh said, “Shoot the rest!”

“I’m out of bullets.”

Emily glanced around her for some kind of weapon. In the dim light she
spotted flashing green LED lights on a tall, wheeled machine. It was the
laser torch’s DC power supply.

The laser cutter was mounted on an articulated arm suspended from the
ceiling. Emily grabbed it, asking, “Does this thing work?”

Kavanaugh nodded while throwing a trio of switches on the console.
“It’s still holding a charge.” She tossed Emily a set of
welder’s goggles.

Emily glanced at the laser torch, relieved to see there was just a single
trigger switch.

Idiot proof. 

She heard a loud clatter, followed by a chorus of squealing. The Harpies
were on the move. She swung the laser torch towards the window, slipping the
goggles over her eyes. For a moment everything was black, until she pressed
the trigger.

The room lit up with the blinding light of an extended camera flash. The
silhouetted shape of a Harpy near the window exploded in a burst of smoke
and flame. A shower of sparks erupted from the wall behind it. The second
Harpy’s shoulder ignited in a flash of blue fire.

Emily swung the laser towards the containment area, blindly firing bursts.
Acrid smoke filled the air, but the high-pitched squeal and the stench of
roasting flesh told her she’d hit something.

The Harpies scrambled for cover, momentarily blinded by the laser
torch.

Emily pressed the trigger again, but the battery was drained.

She yelled, “Now!” while jumping off the table and making for
the broken window.

Kavanaugh grabbed the laser torch’s articulated arm and swung over,
landing, knees bent, a few feet from the window. A wounded Harpy blindly
lashed out, raking its nails across her ankle. Kavanaugh shrieked and
dropped to the floor. Emily latched on to her arm, dragging her into the
corridor.

Kavanaugh said, “It got me!”

Emily helped her down the corridor.

“It’s okay, it just scratched you,” but she could already
feel Kavanaugh slowing down.

“They spit on their paws to spread out the venom.”

“Well, the good news is that I nailed a couple.”

With a groan, Kavanaugh said, “There are twelve of them.”

Emily thought,  Good news dies fast around here. 

Kavanaugh’s knees buckled, nearly dragging Emily to the floor.

She said, “Just leave me, the venom’s going to get me
anyway.”

“Screw that. Even if I got away, Torres would kill me.”

Glancing back, Emily saw a cluster of Harpies emerge from the smoke-filled
lab. She dragged Kavanaugh along, the woman growing heavier with each step.
She saw labs to their left and right, but all of their sliding doors were
locked open. Death traps.

Someone yelled, “Over here!”

Emily saw Ace up ahead waving his arms.

Emily shouted, “She’s hurt!

Ace seemed to float towards them; then Emily realized he was riding the
Segway. As soon as Ace reached them he hopped off, letting the Segway
continue zipping down the corridor.

Slinging Kavanaugh over his shoulder, he said, “Follow me,” and
started running.

Emily looked back and watched the Harpies descend on the unmanned Segway.
The ruse had bought them a few seconds.

Ace stopped at a doorway, yelling, “In, in!”

“But the door won’t close!”

The Harpies were now charging down the corridor en masse.

Ace shouted, “Just do it!” and shoved her through the
door.

The doorway led to a short corridor, emptying into a larger room crammed
with rows of computer servers.

The second they were through Ace slammed the steel door shut and threw the
bolt. They heard the Harpies throwing themselves against it, screeching in
rage.

Ace laid Kavanaugh on the floor and said, “This server room still has
old-school fire doors that weigh a ton. The army engineers bitched so much
about removing them that they finally just left them in place.”

Emily knelt down over Kavanaugh, saying, “Well, at least they
can’t get in.”

“The only problem is that we can’t get out.”

About the Author

William Burke

DOMINANT SPECIES is William Burke’s fourth novel, following a long
career in film and television.  He was the creator and director of the
Destination America paranormal series Hauntings and Horrors and the OLN
series Creepy Canada, as well as producing the HBO productions Forbidden
Science, Lingerie and Sin City Diaries. His work has garnered high praise
from network executives and insomniacs watching Cinemax at 3 a.m.

During the 1990’s Burke was a staff producer for the Playboy
Entertainment Group, producing eighteen feature films and multiple
television series. He’s acted as Line Producer and Assistant Director
on dozens of feature films—some great, some bad and some truly
terrible.

Aside from novels Burke has written for Fangoria Magazine, Videoscope
Magazine and is a regular contributor to Horrornews.net.

He also served in the United States Air Force, reaching the rank of
sergeant.

His YouTube Channel is https://www.youtube.com/c/BillBurke

 

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Incandescence Blitz

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Shadow Academy Book 1

Urban Fantasy PNR Academy Why Choose Romance

Date Published: 10-28-2022

Publisher: Deviant Darlings Publications

 

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New School, New Life!

My name is Aeson Shepherd. I’m seventeen years old, and it’s my
senior year of high school. Mom left us a little over three weeks ago, after
a long battle with cancer, and Dad decided to pick up and move us halfway
across the freaking country!

The sign says Come Bask in Shadow, Louisiana. Or at least that’s what
my dad said it says. I wouldn’t know, see, not only am I being ripped
from my home, but I’m also blind.

 

When things start to go strangely on my first day of school, I don’t
know what to make of it. How am I to navigate a strange world that I cannot
see or even knew existed?

Magic? Prophecies?

Not to mention the hot guys that are suddenly all up in my new life!

I got two words for my father.

THIS SUCKS!

 

Contains Strong Adult Themes of a graphic nature that may not be suitable
for all readers.

 

 

About the Authors

J. Haney was born and raised in Kentucky. Residing in Greenup County,
Kentucky with her family. Her work tends to lean toward real life, drawing
her readers into a world they can get lost inside. She loves photography and
seeing what she can capture through the lens! Probably the biggest book
whore, she knows. She loves books of all genres except horror…
She’s a big Chicken! Getting excited when introduced to a new author.
She has been likened to a kid in a candy shop.

S.I. Hayes was born and bred in New England and currently lives in Ohio.
Running around Connecticut, she used all of her family and friends as
inspiration for her many novels. When not writing, she can be found drawing
one of many fabulous book covers or teasers.

Since meeting in 2016, the pair have embarked on the journey of a thousand
tales. Keep your eyes open and a fresh pair of panties close by. You know,
just in case.

Find more, join ARC teams, or become an Influencer with J. Haney & S.I.
Hayes join the mailing list

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Amazon

 

 

 

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Juunyork Virtual Book Tour

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Biography, LGBTQ, Romance

Date Published: August 3, 2022

Publisher: Gatekeeper Press

 

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The Final Chapter is a true story about a romance between a man, Brandon,
who falls in love with a Brazilian social media influencer, Junior. The
story begins on the first day they meet and follows them through the next
eight months of their relationship. It ends with their final tragic day
together.

Each month shows the progress of their journey and the role social media
plays in their love. It outlines the current fashion of LGBTQ dating
involving apps, open relationships, and the evolving meaning of exclusivity.
Witness their passionate sexual experience, their romance, explosive
outbreaks, and multiple vacations.

In their final months together, feel their love before it is destroyed by a
tragic accident.

 

Juunyork paperback

EXCERPT

Day 1 

I wish I could say I met Junior at a store or a restaurant or we had some amazing occurrence where we locked eyes and had a cute awkward encounter, but that was not the case. I met Junior on an app that many of us know all too well in the gay world, “Grindr”. One night, I got a message from a very attractive Brazilian man and our sexual preferences seemed to be a good match. We began talking that night for a little bit, but unfortunately I had plans that evening and told this guy to please save me as a favorite and we would circle back. I went to sleep early that night once I got home and moved on to the next day as normal. I worked my normal 8-5 and messaged a few other guys throughout the day on this app. As the evening approached, I had a friend’s birthday dinner to celebrate. I never knew that evening, I would be meeting someone who I would fall desperately in love with. However, I would have to go through a few twists and turns before this encounter occurred. 

I wrapped up my day at 5:00 o’clock and was planning to celebrate somewhat of a new friend’s birthday. The event was occurring around 8:00 that evening. I went to the gym as normal after work and then took a shower and began getting dressed for the evening. I decided to check Grindr again and remembered the attractive Brazilian I was chatting with the night before. I reached out and asked how he was doing. He gave me a quick response. He would be in the Orlando area that evening but would have to go back home that night, which was about an hour away. I responded that I would like to see him tonight, but had a birthday party to attend first, but I would reach out to him that evening. He gave me a thumbs up or some type of quick response to let me know he understood. 

I went to attend the birthday party that night. I began driving downtown, which is about 30 minutes away from me. About half way to the event, I realized I had forgotten my driver’s license at the gym and had to turn around and travel to the gym first. You will realize throughout this story, I am a bit forgetful and I stress myself out pretty routinely. I would love to say Junior helped me with this, but he was just as forgetful as me and lived his life without much organization or structure. 

But anyways back to the birthday event. I finally made it to the club downtown that evening. I provided my ID that I finally had to the staff and entered the party. The party was a great time. I was able to meet a few people and have a few drinks. I posted a picture while at the event and tagged the location. Over the next hour, 2 or 3 guys that lived downtown had reached out to me from that photo asking if I wanted to link up that evening after my party. One was a prior fling that had lasted about 2 months. The other was a guy that I had experimented with prior as well. I know this does not put me in the best light and it makes me seem that I had hooked up with many people. However, the truth was I had been single for almost 2 years and I had met many guys in the Orlando area. As I went to the bathroom, I checked our favorite app and realized another gentleman that I had been talking to prior wanted to see what I was doing that night. I checked to see if the Brazilian had responded or sent any further messages, but he did not. 

I ordered one final drink at the event. As you get to know me in this story more, you will not be surprised that I ordered the drink and then ended up spilling it a few minutes later when attempting to take a photo with some friends. At this time, I decided it was probably time for me to leave. I made my way to my car and continued entertaining messages from my social media and Grindr. As I got into my car, I decided to send another message to the cute Brazilian. If you have ever used these apps, you will realize, you typically do not send multiple messages in a row or you come off as that annoying person and you will quickly be blocked or deleted. I wrote a simple message “what are you up to”. I received a response pretty quick that he was in the area but pretty tired. I continued responding to some of the other guys, but something inside of me really wanted to meet this one. Physically, he was very much my type and I think that I liked that I had to chase him a bit. As I was heading home, we were chatting back and forth and he advised he would want to see me and I thought for sure he would be coming over. I finally made it home and took a shower and prepped for the event that he would be stopping by. 

I do think it’s time to explain in the gay world, that it is typical we sometimes will hook up upon meeting each other on this app and typically we are using this app for sexual needs. I had put on a pair of gym shorts and something that was comfortable in order to meet this guy that I was excited to see. As I finished getting ready, I received a message that he was very tired and would need to go home. I was frustrated at this point and ended up sending one final current picture in hopes that he would come over. Needless to say, it was a bit of a sexual photo. He quickly responded that he was tired, but he now wanted to come over. He said he would be there in 20 minutes or so. I was excited, but I myself was getting a little bit tired as I had drank and also had work in the morning. 

About 30 minutes later, I received a knock on the door. I opened the door and it was this man who had a very aggressive demeanor. I attempted to give him a hug, but it was a bit awkward. We both entered my room and immediately began connecting. I was shocked at our physical connection and his aggression in a way. He was very direct with what he wanted, but it was one of the most sensual experiences I had encountered in a long time. We were physical for almost an hour. He was so dominant and aggressive and that was something I found very attractive. He told me exactly what he wanted done to him and advised what positions he wanted me in for both his pleasure and mine. He was so giving sexually and did many things that were directed at pleasing me which I had not had someone do in a while. Most of the time, guys are more concerned at what is pleasurable to them, but do not focus on the other person involved. However, that was not the case this time. During this sexual encounter, he began kissing my neck and even my face. He would whisper things in my ear that we were very good sexual partners together and that he had not felt this good in a long time. 

Before our encounter, we had described things that turned each other on. During this hour, we both continued doing these things to each other and it made the experience so sensual. Upon both of us climaxing, we laid together for about 15 minutes. We both cleaned up in the bathroom and made small talk that this was very fun and that it felt extremely good for the both of us. Unfortunately, again, in the gay world this is somewhat common. We normally will discuss how it was good and that we should meet again, but most of the time we move on with our lives with little response or communication. 

As we exited the room, we walked through my living room and we were approaching the front door. I was planning to give him a small hug and let him know to reach out soon, but he stopped me and said, I want to know more about you. I was a little bit surprised and asked what he wanted to know. He said he just wants to talk and to get to know me more. At that time, it was almost midnight and I still had to work early in the morning. I advised him I was pretty tired and maybe we could catch up another day. He said he just wanted to talk for 10-15 minutes and then he would leave. I had never had a guy be so direct and was a bit surprised. We were nearing my kitchen and I said we could talk a little bit if that is what he would like to do. Trying to be clever and ensure this would not be an awkward situation, I advised him we could each ask 10 questions and we both had to answer the questions. I told him he could start. He first asked “What do you do for work?” I provided my answer to him and then asked him what he does. He smiled a little and said, I kind of have a weird profession, but I am trying to become a comedian. I made a joke that it sounded like he does not have a real job. He began laughing so hard and said he had never had anyone be so direct with him before. I smiled and said you were the one who wanted to talk and get to know me. 

I then asked him “Where are you from?” He had told me he was from Brazil and then advised that he would take me soon since we have a pretty good connection. I made a joke that he was pretty cocky, but I liked it. I told him about being from the small town of Inverness, Florida. He laughed and told me he had never heard of that before, but since he was going to take me to Brazil, he would take a trip with me to Inverness. He could not pronounce it, and I had to explain how to say it several times. I then told him that the small town of Inverness hosts a pretty spectacular “Cooter Festival.” I had to explain to him it was a festival about turtles. Honestly, you just need to Google it to see for yourself. We could not stop laughing through these few minutes. 

His next question was very direct. He asked about my past relationships. I was not prepared to go into my major heartbreak that I had, but did tell him about my prior marriage, which was significant in my life as well. I was with a man for 7 years and we were married for one. I told him I was a 26 year old divorced man. He said he was happy I had told him. It became pretty serious at that time and truthfully I was a bit surprised I was explaining this to a man I had just met a little over an hour ago. There were times I hid that information for weeks or months when talking with guys. 

We then discussed our favorite foods, favorite color, favorite vacations, and continued talking for an hour I quickly forgot which question we were on and I was loving just talking to you and seeing your passion and smile as you told me things about you. As time progressed, it was almost 2:00 in the morning. We had not moved from my kitchen, where I was sitting on the countertop and you were still standing. 

I had told you that I really liked talking with you, but I think it was time that you left because I had to be up soon for work. I went to give you a hug and say goodbye, but you told me that I needed to walk you to the door and give you a proper goodbye because that would mean I plan to see you again. I followed your direction and walked you to the door. I gave you a hug goodbye and you kissed me on the cheek and said that you would wait to see me again. As I went to sleep that night, I could not stop but ponder how unique this evening was.

 

 

About the Author

Brandon McKinney

Brandon McKinney is a twenty-seven-year-old currently pursuing his master’s
degree in global strategic communications. He obtained his bachelor’s degree
in marketing from the University of Florida. He is a Florida native. He
loves traveling, animals, and hopes to one day have a big family. In his
spare time, he is active in many sports leagues in the Orlando area. This is
his debut novel.

 

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Domestic Violence Virtual Book Tour

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Fiction/Thriller

Date Published: December 13, 2022

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

 

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Agnew, a small farming community in south-central Texas, has just been
obliterated in the nation’s worst rail accident in history. The
President of the United States enlists cybersecurity expert, Mike Paxton, to
lead the investigation and determine who is to blame.

As Mike seeks to uncover the truth behind the attack, more weapons of mass
destruction are unleashed across the country in what appears to be an
attempt to eradicate western society. Those who survive are forced into a
near-apocalyptic existence: transportation, manufacturing, agricultural, and
oil industries crumble, and economic collapse devastates America.

With time and resources running out, Mike must discover the cruel forces at
play. Are these violent attacks merely a ploy to preoccupy the American
government so a larger, global plan can be carried out without the threat of
intervention by America’s powerful military defense? Will Mike and his
team be able to stop them before it’s too late? Or will the United
States lose all hope of maintaining its status as the most powerful country
in the world?

Domestic Violence tablet

EXCERPT

The sweltering humidity, unseasonable this time of year in the south-central Texas farming community of Agnew, made the scorched air feel close to a hundred degrees. For the overflow crowd in the aged gymnasium, it was stifling. The community-wide pep rally was a welcome respite between harvesting soybeans and pulling cotton bolls. Everyone hoped their undefeated, six-man football team could do what had not been done in two decades: win tomorrow’s game and play for the state championship. 

Signs and hand-painted banners urging the team to victory hung on every surface in town, from storefronts to churches, the co-op grain elevator, even the fire station.  Nine-year-old Emma Bergsten and her classmates sat atop the foldaway bleachers, screaming cheers and singing songs. Her older brothers were team stars, her sister the head cheerleader, and three cousins played in the band.

Hearing the whistle of the train on its way through town, Emma glanced out the gym’s gaping double doors just as the landscape of Agnew and the lives of everyone she knew changed forever. 

The colossal explosion from its payload ammonium nitrate bomb obliterated a box truck near the railroad crossing. In an instant, the first of five engines pulling the hundred-car Union Pacific Eagle Ford Shale crude carrier plunged into chaos as the eruption thundered all around.

Screaming at supersonic speeds in every direction away from the explosion’s core, the shockwave freed its unbalanced energy in a microsecond. Driven by molecular nitrate collisions at the nanoscale, the invisible, vibrating force smashed tsunami-like through massive concrete cylinders at the grain elevator, destroying the cotton gin, sheriff’s office, and volunteer fire station in seconds. Intense wind followed, sweeping the debris into a destructive wake. The concussion shattered the cafeteria windows. It triggered such biological havoc in the bodies of the three cooks, they died before the glass hit the floor. 

            Jolting through the adjacent gymnasium, the devastation continued, windows shattered, and shards of concrete from the elevator scythed the roof. Survivors scrambled over tubas, trombones, ceiling fragments, and each other in their efforts to escape. Find Mommy, Emma thought as she fell from the top of the foldaway bleachers.

The old building shuddered and collapsed. As the explosion subsided and the smoke cleared, only a portion of the south wall remained.  

 

Tank car after tank car buckled like an accordion stretching a half mile back through town, some upright, most on their sides. Oil gushed from fissures in car walls. Sparks emitted from the wreckage ignited the low flashpoint crude. Rapidly growing pools generated a huge fireball twice the height of the grain elevator. The first of five explosions registered 4.8 on seismographs in Austin, Houston, and Albuquerque, shaking every structure in town and alerting the residents in a twenty-mile radius to what many believed to have been an earthquake. 

The initial concussion from the blast shattered businesses and most of the homes closest to the tracks, while others crumpled and ignited. Menacing flames destroyed everything in their wake. Those trapped in their homes died as their skin melted. The town burned in a sea of red, yellow, and orange.

 

938-word excerpt

Midafternoon, hot, bright, and blue, the Nordic Spirit, a Belize flagged, Norwegian-owned 310,000 ton Very Large Crude Carrier completed on-boarding a full load at the Shell refinery and initiated the uncoupling process. The Patty Bess tugboat nosed into the ship’s starboard bow and tied on. The Sidney Wayne latched to the stern behind 191 feet of line. The Alice, with Topper at the helm, amidships as the Nordic Spirit, continued to uncouple, men readying the release of the moorings from their cleats. 

Eruptions! One hundred eight simultaneous eruptions, akin to the blast from an awakening volcano. Shock waves killed longshoremen, warehousemen, crane operators, children playing in nearby neighborhoods, even passing motorists. The enormous boom burst forth and was heard throughout the greater Houston metropolitan area and in communities a hundred miles away.  The detonations rocked the entire Ship Channel as sirens from the Emergency Command Center screamed. 

Residents of Pasadena, La Porte, Galena Park, North Shore, Bayport, Seabrook, Baytown, Houston, Galveston, and Texas City, people whose lives have been intertwined with the petrochemical industry for generations knew this time, it was different. This time it was not a plant, this time, the whole earth moved. Homes and businesses within a half mile either side of the Ship Channel were shaken off their foundations, windows blown out, ceilings collapsed, metal outbuilding crumpled like tin foil. 

Windows in downtown Houston and as far as Conroe forty miles to the north shattered. People in Louisiana, 250 miles away, experienced the shockwaves. For the second time in twelve hours, the seismograph in Albuquerque registered a disturbance to the southeast. Massive amounts of fire for fifty miles.

Ships docked in port broke their moorings and sustained substantial damage when they rammed each other or slammed back into the dock. Fire raced up the lines of the Nordic Spirit, and into her tanks before exploding. The middle of the ship, wholly gutted, sank in twelve minutes. Taking the three tugboats with her, she marooned all ships between herself and the turning basin at the upper end. 

At once, more than 1.6 million barrels of oil, unleashed and on fire! Oil laden water, the width of the channel, half a mile long and expanding, ablaze, burned unabated into the upper San Jacinto Bay. The spill, seven times larger than the 1989 Exxon Valdez incident on Bligh Reef in Alaska, and a third the size of the Deepwater Horizon disaster, complicated the immediacy of the attack and increased its environmental impact many-fold.

Petrochemical complexes, several the size of the downtown of a city of fifty thousand people, collapsed upon themselves, ablaze. Doors, windows, and roofs of businesses and homes in communities on both sides of the channel were blown away. An inferno! The heat and odor were overwhelming. 

Immense pillars of heavy, black smoke rose into the sky, covering the sun for twenty miles. Fire! Fire exploding three and four stories high, half-mile on a side, drank from twenty, forty and forty-eight-inch pipes of flammable petrochemicals. Melted and twisted metal, heat, and residual smoke rendered the entire site a war zone. Air fouled with ethyl benzene, sulfur, acrylonitrile, olefins, ethylene, and nitric oxide choked and burned the eyes of the first responders as, in vain, they tried to establish order.

At Barbours Cut, the container in the hold of the Martina Southampton exploded, ripping an immense gash in the ship. Shrapnel penetrated the hull of the Rio Chartrus as both vessels sank. The six tractor-trailer containers on the loading dock detonated, incapacitating all eight of the massive high-capacity loading cranes. Shipping containers strewn in every direction across eighty acres rendered the container complex inoperable.

Everything along the Ship Channel was aflame. The list, a who’s who in oil and gas. A huge mushroom shaped cloud from the ExxonMobil plant billowed 1,500 feet into the air, the shockwave knocking the local ABC affiliate’s helicopter flying overhead out of the sky. At the massive Shell complex, the sheer power of the first explosion triggered a domino effect throughout the plant as cracking plants and cooling towers erupted with such force, pipes and tanks of flammable liquids ripped open. 

The scene of fire, explosion, destruction, and devastation repeated, again and again, as waves crashed ashore at the height of a level three hurricane. ExxonMobil, Phillips Petroleum, Lyondell-Citgo Refining, Occidental, Great Lakes Carbon Corporation, all in ruins. The list continued, Monsanto, Marathon Oil, service companies, blending companies, terminals and storage, cooling tower support people. 

The explosions were so massive and intense, the safety and firefighting equipment on hand within the refineries and plants disintegrated. The air tasted of refinery chemicals, smoke, and fire. Houston Fire Department and their Hazardous Materials Unit, and Pasadena and Deer Park Fire Departments responded, trying to determine how best to defeat this monster they now faced. Even with the fire boats, it was clear in the immediacy of the moment, the fire outstripped the capacity of the entire region as the situation could only be likened to the Kuwaiti oilfield fires started by Iraq following Desert Storm.

At DuPont’s La Porte processing plant, the hydrofluoric acid storage drum ruptured, and 50,000 pounds of hydrogen fluoride gas escaped, killing thousands, and putting the 650,000 people within a ten-mile radius of the complex at risk. Conditions worsened further when explosions from containers in tractor-trailer configurations positioned alongside the Kinder Morgan Terminal in Galena Park caused several chlorine storage tank walls to collapse, releasing a dense, yellowish gas cloud, killing hundreds. Thousands more suffered from pulmonary edema, violent coughing and sneezing, nausea and vomiting, eyes tearing and nose and throat irritation, and other complications as the cloud rose.

 

About the Author

Chuck Edmonds

Chuck Edmonds is a scientific writer whose military experience includes the
evaluation of weapons of mass destruction. Most recently, his work has
focused on mechanical circulatory support systems (partial and total
artificial hearts), his field of specialization at one of the nation’s
leading cardiac centers. His research has appeared in national medical and
surgical journals. He draws from his background of deep scientific knowledge
to create his fictional works, which often incorporate apocalyptic and war
themes. Chuck and his wife live in Houston, Texas, where they enjoy spending
as much time as possible with their kids and grandkids. 

 

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Who Am I? Virtual Book Tour

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Illustrated by Isabella Smith

Children’s / School and Social Issues

Date Published: May 4, 2022

Publisher: MindStir Media

 

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Who AM I— at our core we can celebrate our uniqueness while also
appreciating that as humans we share qualities, virtues, properties of all
the elements, of all animate and inanimate objects AND with other
humans—WE ARE ONE WITH THE UNIVERSE—like snowflakes no two are
alike AND yet like snowflakes, we are just water in another form and
identical to all water droplets.

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Who Am I Excerpt 

 

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  About the Author

Dr. Tina Koopersmith

Dr. Tina Koopersmith, MD, REI, FACOG, BAIHM, is a board-certified OBGYN and
Reproductive Endocrinologist (REI) as well as a board-certified practitioner
of Integrative Medicine.

Dr. Koopersmith is a graduate of Duke University and Duke University
Medical School.

Tina Koopersmith MD is MORE than a physician, she is also a life and
relationship coach, a mom and a perpetual student. She is dedicated to
modifying our health care system from one focused on illness and sickness to
one devoted to prevention and wellness. For 30 years as a fertility
specialist, she focused on bringing life to her patients and now her focus
is on bringing her patients to life.

 

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