Free Kittens recently caught up with Stephen L. Brayton, author of the novels, Beta and Night Shadows (both published by Echelon Press). When he isn’t writing, Brayton is also an experienced martial arts instructor, in addition to having a day job. He is a pretty busy guy, so we here at Free Kittens are pleased he took some time from his busy schedule to let us know a little more about him.
First, two obvious questions everyone's gonna ask anyway...What first inspired you to write? And when was that moment when you decide this was something you wanted to pursue?
I read mysteries (Hardy Boys, Encyclopedia Brown, Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators) as a child. I started developing my creativity with writing short skits for my sister and me to perform. I wrote a few short mystery stories featuring a Quad Cities detective but didn’t start seriously writing until at my first job out of college. I found I had a lot of free time so I would write. When I moved to Oskaloosa I decided I really wanted to create something to submit to publishers. Not knowing how to go about it, I just began the way I thought best and learned from others throughout the years.
As a writer and reader, what are your favorite genres?
I still enjoy a good mystery, thriller, police procedural, a few legal mysteries. I’ll try sci-fi if I think the book looks interesting.
Your five desert island books...
Forgive me for just a moment, but at first I thought you were asking after my five favorite books about desert islands. I wasn’t sure I had read any that would qualify unless they started writing novelizations of Gilligan’s Island episodes. Then my brain clicked and now the question is even tougher. What five books would I take to the island? I have hundreds of books in my library, many waiting to be read, so although I have a few favorites, I’m going to have to go with the next five on my list of to be read and hope the supply ship shows up soon.
How would you describe your work to someone who knows nothing about it?
Beta is the first adventure of Mallory Petersen, six foot blonde martial artist and private detective. She has a knack for attracting the odd cases but when she starts trailing after a kidnapped eight year old girl, things get serious in hurry. Humorous scenes temper the serious subject matter as Mallory uncovers a child pornography ring.
Night Shadows: Think of X-Files with a twist. A federal agent who investigates paranormal and supernatural occurrences teams with a Des Moines homicide officer trying to stop a horde of killer shadow creatures.
Action mystery fans and those who like a little fright in their stories will enjoy these.
Tell us a little about yourself. Like a lot of independently published authors, I am assuming writing is not yet a full time career. How do you pay the bills in between writing projects?
I thought about knocking over banks and convenience stores to help with finances, but those pesky cops kept showing up and ruining my plans. So, I dropped that idea and began looking into identity theft…
Wait, scratch that. Actually, I instruct martial arts four nights a week as well as a full time job in the hospitality business.
I enjoy fishing in the summer, maybe a little golf once in awhile. I’d love to find a place to restart racquetball games. I really enjoyed the exercise.
I notice on your website you are heavily into martial arts. Tell us a little about that. Has that interest influenced the types of stories you write? Do martial arts play a part in some of your tales?
I took advantage of a two weeks’ free classes back in 1990 and never looked back. I earned my black belt in a little less than three years and opened a club in 1996. In 2003, I took over the Oskaloosa club.
When I started thinking about a private investigator series I considered using the detective I had written about years before, but I was so impressed with the women in my organization, I created Mallory Petersen, fourth degree black belt. One of the challenges is to create various scenarios to show off her wide range of skills.
In your publishing/submission efforts, what's your greatest experience? What's your worst?
Well, an obvious positive would be getting accepted by Echelon Press for publication. However, in my travels and networking I’ve met so many wonderful authors and editors and so the wonderful experiences continue with those developing relationships.
I don’t know if this was the worst experience, but it sticks in my mind as one of the most disheartening. When I was still learning my craft and sending out submission queries, I tried to follow the guidelines for each publisher. One night I’m sending out email queries and I shoot one to a publisher at 9:45. Not half an hour later, I receive an email rejection. Really? How much serious consideration was given? I sighed and thought, “Live and learn.”
We all have that one story that, no matter what else we accomplish, remains the nearest and dearest in our hearts. If you could choose one story or novel or yours (published or unpublished), which would it be and why?
Each author develops an individual style and I wouldn’t want to copy anyone. I don’t want anyone to say, “Well, he writes just like(insert name here).” However, I would like to have half the talent the pair who created Ellery Queen possessed. Their stories were so fundamentally solid, complex, intriguing, and entertaining. I also admire the immense skill of H.P. Lovecraft. A true master. The language he used and the images he created were outstanding. I hope one day somebody can read my stuff and have similar thoughts.
What's your writing process? Some map out everything in advance, some wing-it. Some maintain a strict schedule, some don't. What do you do?
I want to be more disciplined and I’m always looking to have better time management to be able to write. I can’t be forced to write which why I don’t join the annual NaNo event. I just can’t write with someone constantly looking over my shoulder wondering how many words I’ve put down. I would like to have a set time each day to write, but my schedule is so full I have to wait for a few hours free at work.
Ideas will pop into my head and if they seem interesting, I’ll write them down for future reference. If one won’t leave alone, I’ll jot a few scenes, a few possible characters. If the idea starts to be look promising, I’ll see if an outline can be completed. I’ll note points of future research, questions to ask certain people. Then I’ll start thinking about character profiles, maybe a subplot. After that’s completed, it’s time to start chapter one.
Any advice to aspiring writers looking to break-in to the business?
Do your homework. Don’t worry about plot, character, queries, synopses, or anything do with story structure. Learn how to write. This means basic punctuation, grammar, and spelling. Learn how to put together a proper sentence. Learn the rules. Develop a style where you then learn when and where to break them.
Promoting your books comes with the job. What types of things do you do to let the world know about Stephen Brayton, the author?
I’m on several social networking sites. Facebook and Twitter as well as a few .ning sites and others. I’ve created a book trailer for Beta (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn_mDGLOPe8), bookmarks, postcards, done a few blogtalkradio interviews. I’m also planning on visiting some martial arts studios and hand out material to promote the book. And of course, blog interviews. Love them!
Where can one find out more information about Stephen Brayton and his work?
Please visit my website at: www.stephenbrayton.com, my blog at: http://stephenlbrayton.blogspot.com, and if you want a book reviewd at: http://braytonsbookbuzz.blogspot.com. Plus, check me out at Facebook and Twitter. Then, tell your friends.
D.M. Anderson's site of author news, interviews, fiction, reviews, essays, cartoons, lists, fun. His two young adult novels, “Killer Cows” and “Shaken,” are available from Quake Publishing.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Free Kittens Round-Up
KITTEN KIBBLE:
Well, the ebook version of Shaken was made officially available today. A nice way to begin my Sunday just before the NASCAR race (made even better when I heard Kyle Busch is being force to sit out of the race...I hate that guy). Now some of the real work begins, mainly trying to get word out that it is available and where to find it, trying to send review copies and set up interviews. All that, of course, would be a lot easier if I didn't have a day job getting in the way. Who knows...maybe someday. Anyway, you can click the cover on the right to download it right now.
I recent gave an interview to Stephen Brayton, a fellow author and martial arts enthusiast. You can check it out here: http://www.booksummit.com/profiles/blogs/around-the-globe-with-dave-anderson?xg_source=facebookshare . Look for an interview featuring Stephen in Free Kittens very soon.
KITTEN KOMPLAINT:
Here's something I found quite depressing. It seems that Amazon is selling a children's book called The Trinity of Superkidds, by J.D. Bauer. It was published by PublishAmerica, a barely-disguised vanity press that pretty-much accepts any crap someone sends to them. But here's the rub...J.D. Bauer is actually convicted serial killer Charles Kembo, currently serving a life sentence for four murders. This has outraged a lot of people lately, which I suppose is understandable.
But here's what makes me sick. As of this writing, the Amazon sales rank of The Trinity of Superkidds, written by a serial killer who also confessed that he prefers writing naked in the dark, is about 38,000. I'm a school teacher and family man, and the current sales rank of my first young adult novel, Killer Cows, is only 1,800,000. Being the 38,000th selling book may not seem very high, but based what I've been able to discover, it is currently one of the bestselling books in PublishAmerica's library. Granted, that still doesn't amount to much, but it does suggest to me that there are a lot of people buying this book out of morbid curiosity.
I also find it interesting that, just a day ago, there were several reviews of the book posted on Amazon by readers outing the author's identity, but as of right now, all of them have been removed. Yet, the book is still on sale.
KITTEN KWIPS:
Why is Kim Kardasian's divorce part of my morning news?
The new Opeth album, Heritage, is awesome. Even if you don't like metal, I recommend this.
A lot of my male seventh grade students love to make fun of Justin Beiber, but I'll bet there isn't a single one who wouldn't trade places with him, given the chance.
Barack Obama needs to commission the construction of a giant robot. People who would build a giant robot are clearly insane, and not to be messed with. All he'd have to do is air-drop one of those babies into the middle east, and everyone would throw down their guns, because anyone crazy enough to build a giant robot is someone you shouldn't anger.
Grimm is a great show, and it's filmed in my hometown!
It's hard to feel sorry for anyone in the NBA when you realize the reason for the lockout is that they can't agree on how to split up the FOUR BILLION DOLLARS IN REVENUE the league earned last year. I hope they cancel the whole freaking season. The more I read about pro athletes, the more I love NASCAR.
Speaking of NASCAR, I believe I already stated how much I hate Kyle Busch, but I'm sure glad he's there. Every sport needs a bad guy.
Is it just me, or is “Don't get smart” a dumb thing to say to your kids?
Well, the ebook version of Shaken was made officially available today. A nice way to begin my Sunday just before the NASCAR race (made even better when I heard Kyle Busch is being force to sit out of the race...I hate that guy). Now some of the real work begins, mainly trying to get word out that it is available and where to find it, trying to send review copies and set up interviews. All that, of course, would be a lot easier if I didn't have a day job getting in the way. Who knows...maybe someday. Anyway, you can click the cover on the right to download it right now.
I recent gave an interview to Stephen Brayton, a fellow author and martial arts enthusiast. You can check it out here: http://www.booksummit.com/profiles/blogs/around-the-globe-with-dave-anderson?xg_source=facebookshare . Look for an interview featuring Stephen in Free Kittens very soon.
KITTEN KOMPLAINT:
Here's something I found quite depressing. It seems that Amazon is selling a children's book called The Trinity of Superkidds, by J.D. Bauer. It was published by PublishAmerica, a barely-disguised vanity press that pretty-much accepts any crap someone sends to them. But here's the rub...J.D. Bauer is actually convicted serial killer Charles Kembo, currently serving a life sentence for four murders. This has outraged a lot of people lately, which I suppose is understandable.
But here's what makes me sick. As of this writing, the Amazon sales rank of The Trinity of Superkidds, written by a serial killer who also confessed that he prefers writing naked in the dark, is about 38,000. I'm a school teacher and family man, and the current sales rank of my first young adult novel, Killer Cows, is only 1,800,000. Being the 38,000th selling book may not seem very high, but based what I've been able to discover, it is currently one of the bestselling books in PublishAmerica's library. Granted, that still doesn't amount to much, but it does suggest to me that there are a lot of people buying this book out of morbid curiosity.
I also find it interesting that, just a day ago, there were several reviews of the book posted on Amazon by readers outing the author's identity, but as of right now, all of them have been removed. Yet, the book is still on sale.
KITTEN KWIPS:
Why is Kim Kardasian's divorce part of my morning news?
The new Opeth album, Heritage, is awesome. Even if you don't like metal, I recommend this.
A lot of my male seventh grade students love to make fun of Justin Beiber, but I'll bet there isn't a single one who wouldn't trade places with him, given the chance.
Barack Obama needs to commission the construction of a giant robot. People who would build a giant robot are clearly insane, and not to be messed with. All he'd have to do is air-drop one of those babies into the middle east, and everyone would throw down their guns, because anyone crazy enough to build a giant robot is someone you shouldn't anger.
Grimm is a great show, and it's filmed in my hometown!
It's hard to feel sorry for anyone in the NBA when you realize the reason for the lockout is that they can't agree on how to split up the FOUR BILLION DOLLARS IN REVENUE the league earned last year. I hope they cancel the whole freaking season. The more I read about pro athletes, the more I love NASCAR.
Speaking of NASCAR, I believe I already stated how much I hate Kyle Busch, but I'm sure glad he's there. Every sport needs a bad guy.
Is it just me, or is “Don't get smart” a dumb thing to say to your kids?
Saturday, October 29, 2011
"On the Boardwalk in the Moonlight", from D.M. Anderson's "With the Wicked."
I never found vampires particularly scary. Still, there are two vampire tales in With the Wicked. The first, “The Bottom of the Well,” was published as an e-Book by Echelon Press . The second, “On the Boardwalk in the Moonlight,” was first featured in a small magazine called Nocturnal Ecstasy in the 1990s. Being that it is a fairly benign and humorous story, I’ve used it to teach story elements to my seventh graders (albeit with some of the language revised). I guess maybe you could it an ‘anti-vampire’ story. This one is very short, and in my opinion, kind of funny.
ON THE BOARDWALK IN THE MOONLIGHT
They walked hand-in-hand on the boardwalk, just as they had every night since meeting only a week ago. Like clockwork, they stopped at the same spots to listen to the seductive swirl of ocean waves. It was as though each night was created exclusively for them.
Dimitri glanced over at Clare, who closed her eyes and let the soft sea breeze brush through her hair. She was so beautiful, so sweet. Not just another meal.
How the hell do I tell her I’m a vampire?
After a few quiet moments, they walked on, content to enjoy the silence of each other.
He loved her. She had to know that. He swore to himself to be completely forthcoming and honest, even if the consequence was losing Clare forever as she ran away in horror. After all, she had awaken feelings in him he thought were long dead. She deserved to know who he was; what he was. He owed it to her. And maybe, just maybe, she loved him enough to join him in eternal darkness, to live forever in each other’s arms.
Dimitri hadn’t prayed in centuries, but tonight he prayed to God for Clare’s unconditional love. Did God have the wisdom and compassion to forgive one who had forsaken Him so long ago? Was any god that forgiving?
At any rate, Dimitri promised both God and himself that he would not take Clare unless she wished to be taken. What was that old saying…if you love something, set it free?
Clouds above cleared, allowing the moon the smile down on the two lovers. Clare stopped again and beamed upwards.
“The night is so beautiful,” she said softly. “I wish it never had to end.” She gazed into his eyes, tightening her grip on his hand.
Dimitri smiled back, then kissed her forehead, basking in the radiating warmth of her flesh before working his way to her earlobe. “It doesn’t have to end,” he whispered.
She sighed contently as she wrapped her arms around him. Her touch made him ache with hunger.
Tell her. Tell her now! There will never be a better time.
“I love you, you know,” Dimitri breathed into into ear.
“Yes,” she replied, tightening her hold on him. “I know.” Her soft lips found his neck, parting just enough for her tongue to brush his flesh.
Dimitri swallowed hard as he prepared to test just how strong her love for him really was. He reluctantly pulled her away and stared intensely into her eyes. “There’s something you need to know, Clare. Something about me. Something you may not want to hear.”
Clare frowned, her face growing concerned. “What is it, Dimitri?” She suddenly eyeballed him suspiciously. “You aren’t married, are you?”
Despite his nervousness, he managed a chuckle. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that…” Dimitri paused. Okay, here goes. “Clare…I’m a vampire.”
She stared back blankly for several seconds, then replied, “Excuse me, a what?”
“A vampire…you know, Bram Stoker, Christopher Lee, Team Edward…” Before she could react or reply, he added, “But please believe me that you are in absolutely no danger, dear Clare. I love you, and even though I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity in your arms, I’d never-”
Clare suddenly broke into laughter, loosening her grip on him. Dimitri frowned as as Clare giggled and snorted uncontrollably until her eyes watered. He had a few ideas on how she’d react to his revelation, but this definitely wasn’t one of them.
“Vampire, huh?” she replied, still snickering through pursed lips as she tried to reign in her laughter. “That’s okay, darling. I’m a vicious, man-eating squid.”
Dimitri frowned indignantly. “But I’m serious. I really am a vampire.”
“So am I. I really am a man-eating squid.”
Clare suddenly ballooned and exploded like an over-inflated party doll. Her fine flesh and long flowing hair ripped apart, giving-way to moist, writhing tentacles. Dimitri screamed as he stared into Clare’s real eye, a huge, snotty orb that malevolently stared back. Clare’s massive beak hungrily snapped as her tentacles gripped him. He screeched in pain, feeling suckers and claws pull and rip at his flesh.
“You’ll be tasty,” Clare gargled.
“But I loved you,” Dimitri croaked.
She hoisted him into the night air, smacking her jaws in anticipation of the meal. Dimitri’s bones crunched as she squeezed him in her slick arms, drowning out the breaking waves. His bulging eyes watched in horror and sorrow as Clare pulled him toward her hungry beak.
Copyright 2011, D.M. Anderson
ON THE BOARDWALK IN THE MOONLIGHT
They walked hand-in-hand on the boardwalk, just as they had every night since meeting only a week ago. Like clockwork, they stopped at the same spots to listen to the seductive swirl of ocean waves. It was as though each night was created exclusively for them.
Dimitri glanced over at Clare, who closed her eyes and let the soft sea breeze brush through her hair. She was so beautiful, so sweet. Not just another meal.
How the hell do I tell her I’m a vampire?
After a few quiet moments, they walked on, content to enjoy the silence of each other.
He loved her. She had to know that. He swore to himself to be completely forthcoming and honest, even if the consequence was losing Clare forever as she ran away in horror. After all, she had awaken feelings in him he thought were long dead. She deserved to know who he was; what he was. He owed it to her. And maybe, just maybe, she loved him enough to join him in eternal darkness, to live forever in each other’s arms.
Dimitri hadn’t prayed in centuries, but tonight he prayed to God for Clare’s unconditional love. Did God have the wisdom and compassion to forgive one who had forsaken Him so long ago? Was any god that forgiving?
At any rate, Dimitri promised both God and himself that he would not take Clare unless she wished to be taken. What was that old saying…if you love something, set it free?
Clouds above cleared, allowing the moon the smile down on the two lovers. Clare stopped again and beamed upwards.
“The night is so beautiful,” she said softly. “I wish it never had to end.” She gazed into his eyes, tightening her grip on his hand.
Dimitri smiled back, then kissed her forehead, basking in the radiating warmth of her flesh before working his way to her earlobe. “It doesn’t have to end,” he whispered.
She sighed contently as she wrapped her arms around him. Her touch made him ache with hunger.
Tell her. Tell her now! There will never be a better time.
“I love you, you know,” Dimitri breathed into into ear.
“Yes,” she replied, tightening her hold on him. “I know.” Her soft lips found his neck, parting just enough for her tongue to brush his flesh.
Dimitri swallowed hard as he prepared to test just how strong her love for him really was. He reluctantly pulled her away and stared intensely into her eyes. “There’s something you need to know, Clare. Something about me. Something you may not want to hear.”
Clare frowned, her face growing concerned. “What is it, Dimitri?” She suddenly eyeballed him suspiciously. “You aren’t married, are you?”
Despite his nervousness, he managed a chuckle. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that…” Dimitri paused. Okay, here goes. “Clare…I’m a vampire.”
She stared back blankly for several seconds, then replied, “Excuse me, a what?”
“A vampire…you know, Bram Stoker, Christopher Lee, Team Edward…” Before she could react or reply, he added, “But please believe me that you are in absolutely no danger, dear Clare. I love you, and even though I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity in your arms, I’d never-”
Clare suddenly broke into laughter, loosening her grip on him. Dimitri frowned as as Clare giggled and snorted uncontrollably until her eyes watered. He had a few ideas on how she’d react to his revelation, but this definitely wasn’t one of them.
“Vampire, huh?” she replied, still snickering through pursed lips as she tried to reign in her laughter. “That’s okay, darling. I’m a vicious, man-eating squid.”
Dimitri frowned indignantly. “But I’m serious. I really am a vampire.”
“So am I. I really am a man-eating squid.”
Clare suddenly ballooned and exploded like an over-inflated party doll. Her fine flesh and long flowing hair ripped apart, giving-way to moist, writhing tentacles. Dimitri screamed as he stared into Clare’s real eye, a huge, snotty orb that malevolently stared back. Clare’s massive beak hungrily snapped as her tentacles gripped him. He screeched in pain, feeling suckers and claws pull and rip at his flesh.
“You’ll be tasty,” Clare gargled.
“But I loved you,” Dimitri croaked.
She hoisted him into the night air, smacking her jaws in anticipation of the meal. Dimitri’s bones crunched as she squeezed him in her slick arms, drowning out the breaking waves. His bulging eyes watched in horror and sorrow as Clare pulled him toward her hungry beak.
Copyright 2011, D.M. Anderson
Friday, October 28, 2011
"Shaken": A Novel of Mass Destruction
I'm pleased and proud to announce the release of my second young adult novel, Shaken. It will be available as an E-book in November, followed very shortly by the paperback version during the holidays. Echelon/Quake, my publisher, has just sent the cover, which I really like. It’s bleak looking, but reflects the tone of the story. I also love the tag line Karen Syed, Echelon’s CEO, added under the title…“A Novel of Mass Destruction.” I love that because it tells any potential reader know exactly what to expect (kind of like Snakes on a Plane). In fact, maybe the book should have been titled, Shaken: A Novel of Mass Destruction.
Anyway, I must hand out massive kudos to Karen, as well as Jenny (J.R. Turner, to you), who has worked extensively with me during the revising process of both of my novels. These two ladies totally rock. I don’t know if we’ll ever meet in person, but they can consider themselves hugged. When I started Shaken, I set-out to write Die Hard for kids, and with their help, I think I’ve accomplished that.
To celebrate the book’s upcoming release, presented below the opening chapter of Shaken. And, of course, your feedback and opinions are always more-than-welcome.
SHAKEN
The lights flickered and Natalie felt like she was losing her balance. She wasn’t dizzy, though the illusion of the room spinning was similar. Her body slowly swayed back and forth as if she stood on a boat at sea. She tried to steady herself with a nearby table, but if anything, the sensation grew more intense.
The fake crystals of the cheap chandelier hanging over the dining room table tinkled. This wasn’t just in her head.
“Whoa!” Lucy cried from upstairs.
Trinkets on the shelves rattled. Another cheesy painting, this one on the dining room wall, fell off its nail and slapped face-down on the floor.
What the...
A jarring jolt under her feet, under the floor, dropped Natalie to her knees. She struggled to stand, but the floor shifted so abruptly she could barely stay on her hands and knees. The bookshelf toppled over; an avalanche of paperbacks barely missed her. The living room window imploded as the frame caved in.
Something struck her head; Natalie yelped as white dust and plaster billowed to the floor.
Oh, God, her mind panicked. She scrambled under the dining room table. The ceiling is falling!
From somewhere upstairs...a high-pitched scream. Natalie barely heard it over the roar of the trembling cabin.
“Lucy!” She crawled from under the safety of the table. Ignoring the raining plaster from above, she scooted on all fours to the nearest kitchen counter and used it to pull herself to her feet. The floor literally shook.
Dishes, glasses, pots and tumbled from the cupboards and crashed to the floor. The sink faucet snapped; water erupted from the ruptured spout and drenched the crumbling ceiling. The window over the sink exploded, showering her with glass. A shard gashed her cheek; warm blood rolled down her face.
Lucy kept screaming upstairs.
“Hang on, Lucy! I’m coming!” She barely heard herself. Natalie scrambled out from beneath the table and though she gripped the counter, she could hardly stand. How was she even going to reach the stairs, let alone climb them? She felt like she was being shaken to death.
She stared in horror as a crack appeared between her feet, ran across the floor, up the wall and onto the ceiling. There was a splintering whack! like a gunshot, and seconds later the room was split into two. Part of the upper floor collapsed, crushing the dining room table she had cowered under a minute earlier. A huge support beam snapped and dropped from overhead. Natalie dove out of the way, just as it swung like a wrecking ball and smashed the kitchen counter to pieces.
The lights went out. Natalie screamed in the dark and the world shook apart around her.
Anyway, I must hand out massive kudos to Karen, as well as Jenny (J.R. Turner, to you), who has worked extensively with me during the revising process of both of my novels. These two ladies totally rock. I don’t know if we’ll ever meet in person, but they can consider themselves hugged. When I started Shaken, I set-out to write Die Hard for kids, and with their help, I think I’ve accomplished that.
To celebrate the book’s upcoming release, presented below the opening chapter of Shaken. And, of course, your feedback and opinions are always more-than-welcome.
SHAKEN
The lights flickered and Natalie felt like she was losing her balance. She wasn’t dizzy, though the illusion of the room spinning was similar. Her body slowly swayed back and forth as if she stood on a boat at sea. She tried to steady herself with a nearby table, but if anything, the sensation grew more intense.
The fake crystals of the cheap chandelier hanging over the dining room table tinkled. This wasn’t just in her head.
“Whoa!” Lucy cried from upstairs.
Trinkets on the shelves rattled. Another cheesy painting, this one on the dining room wall, fell off its nail and slapped face-down on the floor.
What the...
A jarring jolt under her feet, under the floor, dropped Natalie to her knees. She struggled to stand, but the floor shifted so abruptly she could barely stay on her hands and knees. The bookshelf toppled over; an avalanche of paperbacks barely missed her. The living room window imploded as the frame caved in.
Something struck her head; Natalie yelped as white dust and plaster billowed to the floor.
Oh, God, her mind panicked. She scrambled under the dining room table. The ceiling is falling!
From somewhere upstairs...a high-pitched scream. Natalie barely heard it over the roar of the trembling cabin.
“Lucy!” She crawled from under the safety of the table. Ignoring the raining plaster from above, she scooted on all fours to the nearest kitchen counter and used it to pull herself to her feet. The floor literally shook.
Dishes, glasses, pots and tumbled from the cupboards and crashed to the floor. The sink faucet snapped; water erupted from the ruptured spout and drenched the crumbling ceiling. The window over the sink exploded, showering her with glass. A shard gashed her cheek; warm blood rolled down her face.
Lucy kept screaming upstairs.
“Hang on, Lucy! I’m coming!” She barely heard herself. Natalie scrambled out from beneath the table and though she gripped the counter, she could hardly stand. How was she even going to reach the stairs, let alone climb them? She felt like she was being shaken to death.
She stared in horror as a crack appeared between her feet, ran across the floor, up the wall and onto the ceiling. There was a splintering whack! like a gunshot, and seconds later the room was split into two. Part of the upper floor collapsed, crushing the dining room table she had cowered under a minute earlier. A huge support beam snapped and dropped from overhead. Natalie dove out of the way, just as it swung like a wrecking ball and smashed the kitchen counter to pieces.
The lights went out. Natalie screamed in the dark and the world shook apart around her.
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