BOOK SIX of THE TEMPLE OF THE BLIND on its way!

After a slight delay, I've finally managed to finish the final book in my horror-adventure series.  While it's not ready quite yet (I still have to format it and wait for my proofreaders) it is close enough to announce that the book will be available in May!  I can't say precisely when in May...so I guess we'll just say "by the 31st."  A few people have contacted me asking for a release date.  Some of them were told February, others were told April.  If you were one of those people, I sincerely apologize.  I simply didn't realize how much work I had left to do.  (The pitfalls of independent publishing.)  But you can get your first glimpse of the book right now!

The Judgment of the Sentinels tips the scales as the series heavyweight at over 90,000 words and brings to a satisfying close the epic journey of Albert and Brandy and friends that began two years ago when I first published The Box on Smashwords.  I've collected a lot of reviews on Amazon, in that time (over 50!) and a sizeable majority of those reviews tell me that my readers really like my books! Hopefully, we will have a long and happy future together!

What follows is a brief excerpt from the book.  In the past, I've simply posted the first chapter or two, but I've cut this one down so as not to give away too much of what happened in book 5, because the absence of my name on the New York Times Bestsellers List is a pretty decent indication that not everyone has read it yet.  Of course, if you're really concerned about spoilers, you might still want to stop here and go finish the other five books.

The Temple of the Blind was more than any of them had ever dreamed.  But all of it, from the first sentinel statues with their grotesque proportions and empty, featureless faces, to the tower with its vast belly full of fire, was only gray stone and shadow.  What awaited them at the end of this final passage was far more. 

A soft glow greeted them as they approached, like the first light of a new day.  But it was no sunrise.  They emerged from the labyrinth and stood beneath a sky that was as black and as empty as the tunnels they had left behind them.  Rising into this pitch-black sky was a great, gray mountain.  The light was coming not from the horizon, lending hope to some distant sun, but from the mountain itself.  Columns of fire blazed from hundreds of unseen vents in the stone, illuminating its rocky face in an angry undulation of light and shadow, and from its highest peak spewed a towering inferno of orange and yellow flames. 

More fires rose up from cracks in the ground on either side of them, scattering the shadows at their feet and lending a dreadful hue to the path on which they walked.  It was as if they had finally descended all the way down into the blazing pits of hell. 

“Where are we?” asked Nicole.  “What is this place?”

“The Temple of the Blind,” Albert replied, still staring up at the burning mountain.  It was the most frightful place he had ever seen, far more terrifying than any scene from any movie.  “It’s inside there.  All of it.  This is what it looks like from outside.”

Brandy gazed up at the mountain, confused.  “But the Temple of the Blind is underground…”

“In our world, maybe.  Not here.”

Andrea turned in a circle, her wide eyes taking everything in.  “We’re in a different world?”

“We’re in the Wood,” said Olivia, her voice edged with unmistakable anxiety.

“How can you tell?” asked Nicole.

“It has the same sky.” 

All of them lifted their faces toward the darkness above them.  It could have been nothing more than an overcast night sky, but it wasn’t.  Peering up, they could somehow tell that it was utterly empty.  An eternal abyss filled the heavens here, and looking into it was deeply unsettling. 

“I don’t like it here,” Brandy decided. 

“You don’t get used to it,” Olivia assured her.  She recalled cowering beneath the fallen night trees, staring out into this perpetually empty darkness, trying to decide if a place this black could really exist or if she had been struck blind in her fall through the branches. 

Last time she looked into this sky, Wayne came to rescue her.  It broke her heart to know that he wouldn’t be coming again. 

Albert scanned the landscape.  A pool of rippling water stood between them and the rocky terrain at the base of the mountain.  The smooth, right-angle edges of the temple’s interior were not apparent here.  This stone was raw, rough, indistinguishable from any other natural formation except for the fire belching from it. 

These flames also illuminated the road ahead.  It surged from fissures in the stone, hot columns of fire reaching for the sky, lighting the way so that, for the first time since he descended into the steam tunnels the previous evening, he did not need a flashlight to see. 

But Albert found little comfort in the light.  Inside that mountain was coiled every passage they had traveled during the night, and countless more they never glimpsed.  He thought of all that they’d already been through, all that they’d accomplished.  And still there was no end in sight.  How much farther would they be forced to go?  How much more would they have to endure? 

...

“What are we supposed to do next?” asked Olivia.”

“Good question,” replied Albert.  “Follow the path, I guess.  See where it takes us.”

“The Sentinel Queen’s doorway?” wondered Andrea. 

“It’s a fair assumption,” reasoned Albert.  “Somewhere on this mountain, I guess.”

Nicole groaned.  “I don’t want to.  I’m exhausted.”

Everyone was. 

Brandy checked her watch and saw that it was already lunch time.  “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” said Nicole. 

Olivia was hungry, too, but she didn’t want to say so.  It hadn’t slipped her attention that she was by far the chubbiest person here.  The last thing she wanted was to be the fat girl whining for food. 

She hated that they had to be naked.  Why?  What was the reason?  Was it just to torture them?  Was everything just to torture them?

“I’m mostly thirsty,” said Andrea.  “Do you think the water’s safe to drink?”

“I have no idea,” replied Albert as he took some cleaning wipes from the first aid kit.  He didn’t think he’d want to drink the water here.  Who knew what might be in it.

“The water is safe.”

All five of them turned at the sound of this new voice to find the Keeper standing with them, half-concealed in the shadows with its back to the rocks, as if it’d been there all along and they simply hadn’t noticed. 

Olivia let out a startled scream and leapt to her feet, covering herself as if embarrassed to be caught naked out here.  Andrea sprang to her feet as well, ready to run, although she somehow managed not to scream.  Though they had both listened to Albert’s description of the strange little creature back inside the labyrinth, neither of them had actually seen the Keeper with her own eyes until now.  There was simply no way to prepare for a sight as strange as this.  Even Albert, Brandy and Nicole, who had already once weathered the shock of its creepy appearance, were startled to their feet by the abruptness of this unexpected visit. 

Clearly, the Keeper wasn’t one to call first. 

“How did you get here?” Albert asked the little creature.  He didn’t think it was possible to go back the way they came, and he thought that was the only way out of the labyrinth. 

Like before, its voice was clear, but broken and hoarse.  Even its vocal cords did not seem to be human.  “I didn’t.”

This reply caught Albert off guard.  It didn’t make sense.  “What?” 

Also like before, its head began to rotate, its chin circling toward the black sky, the crown of its head toward the ground.  “It’s unimportant.”

“Of course it is.”  Brandy and Nicole crowded behind him, peering over his shoulders.  Nearby, Olivia and Andrea stood side-by-side as well, ready to bolt should the unusual creature with the oversized skin and the strange little head that tilted on the wrong axis suddenly decide to bare vicious fangs and charge at them.  All four remained silent, leaving Albert to address the Keeper alone. 

“Why are you here, then?”

“I’m here to ensure that you finish your journey.”

Albert cocked his head, confused.  “Oh.  Okay.  Well, we didn’t exactly think we had a choice in the matter at this point.” 

“I had no doubt you would keep going,” the Keeper clarified.  “What I remain unsure of is whether you can survive to reach the top.”

“So we don’t exactly have your full confidence, then.  How reassuring.” 

Brandy gripped his arm.  Albert sounded angry and she was afraid for him.  They still had no idea what this “Keeper” was or what its intentions might be.  But at the same time, he deserved to be angry.  This was all so frustrating. 

“The path ahead is treacherous,” explained the Keeper.  It now wore its face sideways.  Its left ear was aimed at the ground.  The loose flesh protruding from its jowls and forehead distorted grotesquely as it slid across its features, heeding the pull of gravity.  The shriveled mass of dark flesh dangling from its chin jiggled with each word it spoke.  “You will be tested.”

“Why?” asked Albert.  “Why are we here?  What’s the purpose?”

“The purpose is simply to reach the doorway at the top of the mountain.”

“Is that all?”

“You are the final pieces in an ancient design,” the Keeper explained.  “Long ago, long before mankind ever set foot in your world, a race of creatures you now call ‘the sentinels’ passed judgment on all mankind.  But they, Those Without Faces, did not share their judgment.”

“What kind of judgment?” Albert demanded.  “Who were the sentinels?”

Now the Keeper’s face was upside-down, the flesh of its forehead hanging toward the ground, its black eyes staring at him.  That hideous mass of wrinkled flesh lay against its left cheek.  “The Faceless Ones were the last guardians of man.”

“‘Last guardians of man…’” repeated Albert.  “What does that even mean?”

“The sentinels were the architects who made possible the survival of humanity beyond the expiration of their original world.  They built the gateways and orchestrated the exoduses that allowed you all to be here today.”

“We really came from another world?” asked Andrea.

“Humans have made several worlds their own over the ages.  You have no idea how ancient your species is.” 

This was a lot to take in.  Albert struggled to understand it all.  Other worlds.  Ancient races.  Mysterious judgments.  “So…  We’ve outlived whole worlds?”

The little creature’s head began rotating again, returning to its upright position.  “That’s correct.”

“And the sentinels were the ones who moved us to new worlds each time ours died?”

“They were also the ones who decided if mankind should be allowed to survive.”

Albert considered this.  It was all starting to fall into place.  A little.  “Okay.  So…  Those fourteen women the Sentinel Queen told us about…  They were sent through this temple from our last world?”

“Yes.”

Emboldened by the fact that the creature did not seem to want to drink their blood, Andrea took a tentative step toward it, trying to see it better.  It was the strangest thing she’d ever laid eyes on. 

Startled, Olivia seized her by the arm and pulled her back.

“The sentinels sent those women here,” said Albert. 

“This was the doorway to the new world during the last exodus,” confirmed the Keeper.  “And also the next.”

“The next?”

“This very mountain, this temple, that facilitated the journey of the mothers into the new world, is also the key that will ultimately open the way to the next world.  Unless the judgment of the faceless ones deemed your race unworthy.”

Albert stood silently, considering this.  Salvation or doom, all depending on the whims of a race of long dead, faceless freaks.  It wasn’t entirely surprising.  After all, he’d heard this argument already tonight.  “The Sentinel Queen and that old man—” 

“Yes,” interrupted the Keeper.  “The Mother and the Ancient One.  They both had their roles to play in bringing you here.  But it’s not they who must decide.  It’s you.” 

It made sense now.  The Sentinel Queen believed that humanity’s only chance at salvation was the opening of the doorway.  The old man, the one she claimed was the devil, believed opening the doorway would only bring doom.  This was what they were talking about, this judgment of the sentinels.  “So what are we supposed to do, exactly?”

The Keeper’s face returned to its upright position and then continued rotating, its chin swiveling toward the sky in the opposite direction this time.  “You are here to finish what the sentinels began.  They passed their judgment on you long before you were ever born.  Now you must pass your judgment on them long after they’ve died.  You must decide for yourselves to open the door that awaits you atop this Temple of the Blind.” 

“And if we decide wrong?” Albert asked. 

“Even I don’t know that,” the Keeper replied.  “Many people have tried to walk the road that you’ve taken to get here, people from all over the world.  At first they were following the stories handed down to them throughout history, from the mouths of the mothers themselves.  Later, when the truth had faded into myth and was eventually forgotten altogether, only those with the old gifts were able to feel the pull of the doorway, people like Wendell Gilbert and Beverly Bridger.”  The creature’s head was upside-down again.  Its stare was dull, but piercing.  “Many have come over the ages.  And all of them have died.  Until now.”

Albert remembered the bones in the round room with the battered sentinels, the scattered remains of those who did not have the box to guide them. 

“You are here…” the Keeper lifted one skinny hand and pointed up at the burning peak of the temple, its loose flesh dangling like the sleeves of an oversized shirt, “…to go there.  Your entire world is balancing on the razor’s edge of the actions you’ve taken and will take on this journey.” 

“No pressure…” grumbled Nicole. 

“Your world could end today,” said the Keeper, “or it could live on for thousands more years.  But it will end.  Humanity may die with it.  Or it may live beyond it.  It depends entirely upon the judgment the sentinels passed upon you.  And it depends upon the judgment you will pass upon them.” 

“I don’t understand,” said Olivia. 

“It doesn’t matter.”  The Keeper turned its head ninety degrees and held it there, its ears pointing up and down.  “You don’t have to understand.  You only have to choose.” 

Albert wanted to know more.  He wanted the Keeper to explain these things that it had said to them, but it vanished before their eyes, withdrawing into the very rock behind it, as though sucked back into the darkness from which it came. 

“Where did it go?” Andrea asked. 

“I’m not the only one who found that whole thing weird, am I?” asked Olivia.

“What about that was weird?” quipped Nicole.  “The freaky little Muppet thing just told us we have to choose the fate of the world.”

“That’s really messed up,” said Andrea.  She walked over to where the Keeper had been standing, trying to figure out how it had come and gone. 

Albert looked around at his four lovely companions and sighed.  “Well, everybody, Brandy might have a broken tailbone, Nicole’s got a hole in her hand and I’ve got a broken arm.  Who’s up for some mountain climbing?”

Look for The Judgment of the Sentinels at Smashwords, Barnes & Noble and Amazon in May!  And check back soon for more updates and to find out what I'll be doing once The Temple of the Blind is behind me.

Getting Dirty

Having found some time on my hands, I started thinking about my work and how it fares in this ruthless market.  Eventually, I came upon an idea.  In an admittedly half-assed attempt to improve sales, I’ve decided to withdraw my work from circulation and turn my efforts toward a more profitable genre.  After doing some lazy and rather unreliable research, I’ve discovered that erotica appears to draw considerably more readers than horror and suspense, according to these guys on some forum I read.  As a result, the following changes have been made: 

From now on, The Box will be The Package and will be followed by its sequels, Gilbert’s House, The Dimples of the Blonde, Rod Receives the Wood, and Secret of the Librarian.  I have also made improvements to my short stories.  “The Man in the Fire,” after appropriate changes, will now be “The Man in the Fireman’s Hat.”  “Jeremy Fell” is now “Jeremy Felt” and “Low Tide” has become “Low Clyde.”  Also, “Children in the Dark” has been changed to “Chillin’ in the Dark.”  With full credit to my clever wife, “The Devil’s Walk” will hereby be re-titled “The Devil’s Banana.” 

“From Such Small Things” will keep its title. 

Also look forward to my brand new, full-length and frisky adventure, Blushed.  Available soon. 

Thank you for understanding.

(I should probably confirm at this point that this is, in fact, a joke and that I will not actually be removing any of my current titles from publication and replacing them with silly smut.  Otherwise, someone out there will send me an angry e-mail demanding that I deliver “The Devil’s Banana” promptly or be sued for false advertising.)

Check out all my (real) titles at http://www.amazon.com/Brian-Harmon/e/B004YYT16W and share this address with your friends.  Don’t let this reality come to pass!

New Novel Now Available!

My brand new novel, Rushed, is live and available for purchase on Smashwords, Barnes & Noble and Amazon.  A mix of horror, suspense, adventure and mystery, fans of The Temple of the Blind should not be disappointed.  (This is not a part of the series, so don’t worry about reading something out of order.)  With a faster pace, more humor and less adult content than my other books, it should be a great jumping-off point for new readers as well.  Visit the links below and download a sample today.  And please feel free to share these links with your online friends. 

http://www.amazon.com/Rushed-ebook/dp/B00AXTOIJM

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rushed-brian-harmon/1114076406

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/272463

"Rushing" Right Along

Have you read the first chapter of my upcoming novel, Rushed?  (If not, you can check it out here.)  With a healthy blend of horror, suspense, adventure and fantasy, and a good dose of humor thrown in for good measure, my new book is a fast-paced, supernatural thriller that should delight fans of The Temple of the Blind series (which should be concluding with book 6 in the next few weeks, by the way) as well as any fan of supernatural tales.  It is also a 2012 NaNoWriMo winner!

So when can you read it?  How about next week?  That's right, Rushed will be arriving at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords on TUESDAY, JANUARY 8!  That's in just six days!

I'll be posting links right here on Dark Things Rising as they become available.  In the meantime, help me spread the word!  Tell your friends, your family, those jerks you work with who you pretend to be friends with even though you really can't stand them, those other jerks you also pretend to like just because they're family, those people you randomly see on the street, your dentist, the girl at the grocery store checkout lane...  You know, whoever will listen.  Just send them to this page.  Or to my Facebook page.  (You have "liked" me on Facebook right?)

And if you'd like to be added to my mailing list and receive e-mail reminders when my books are ready to buy, just contact me via my website with your name and e-mail address.

Happy reading, my friends!

New Novel On Its Way (Sneak Peek!)

It’s hard to believe it’s already December.  November was crazy busy.  I celebrated another birthday.  I enjoyed another wonderful Thanksgiving dinner.  I neglected my blog.  (Sorry!)  And I became an official National Novel Writing Month WINNER! 

In my last post, I wrote about participating in the annual competition to write a novel of 50,000+ words in only thirty days.  I was not entirely confident I would be able to do it.  I’ve never put myself on such a deadline before.  I wasn’t sure I had the time for such an undertaking.  But I worked hard and had excellent support from my wonderful wife and I reached the 50,000-word requirement in only 18 days!  The book has now surpassed 73,000 words and is well into the editing process. 

I’ve never made such good time on a project this size.  And the book is coming along wonderfully.  After reading just a few chapters of my first draft, my dear wife has not only proclaimed it a resounding success, but has challenged me to finish it and deliver it to my fans by Christmas!  (My tentative deadline of June was simply unacceptable, she insisted.)  I’m not fully convinced that I can produce a finished book by Christmas Day (that’s only two weeks!) but then again, I wasn’t fully convinced that I could pull off NaNoWriMo, either… 

I would have to complete all the editing, the cover design work and formatting.  And then there’s the near impossible task of finding proofreaders capable of reviewing the book in that time… 

Well, there’s no harm in trying.  Even if I miss my holiday deadline, this push should ensure the book gets a healthy January or February release, slightly ahead of the final book in The Temple of the Blind series. 

In the meantime, I thought I’d share with you the entire first chapter of my manuscript.  Check it out and enjoy.

Rushed

by Brian Harmon

Chapter One

Eric Fortrell lived a perfectly unremarkable life until he happened to have a very extraordinary dream.  It wasn’t that it was an especially meaningful dream.  In fact, he could remember nothing about the dream except that there was something about a bird, and even that vague detail was so far lost to his waking mind that only the word itself remained.  “Bird.”  It was not any particular kind of bird, no bird of any particular color or size.  It was nothing more significant than something about a bird.  And yet this dream filled him with such a profound sense of urgency and foreboding that he immediately left his bed, dressed himself and fled his home in the middle of the night.  By the time he came to his senses and realized that there was nowhere for him to go, he was already standing in his driveway with the door of his silver PT Cruiser wide open, ready to climb in and drive away. 

He was confused, of course, and a little unnerved.  After all, he wasn’t exactly known for being impulsive.  It wasn’t like him to do anything without a reasonable amount of thought, much less jump up in the middle of the night and go running out to his car, inexplicably convinced that he desperately needed to be somewhere.  But more than that, he was embarrassed.  He closed the vehicle’s door as quietly as he could and gazed around at the darkened windows of his neighbors’ houses, very nearly convinced that at least one of them must be watching him, wondering where he thought he was going at a quarter past one in the morning, laughing at his ridiculous antics. 

He was a reasonable enough man to know that this was utter nonsense.  Even if someone was up and wandering around in their unlit home at this hour and just happened to be looking out the window as he hurried out the door, they’d have no reason to suspect that he was behaving strangely.  Perhaps he’d lost something, his wallet, maybe, and was checking to see if he’d left it in his vehicle. 

Still, he hesitated to lock the car for fear that the brief sounding of the horn would alert every nosy neighbor on the block to his presence and somehow instantly let them know that he was acting as if he’d utterly lost his mind.

He left the PT Cruiser unlocked in his driveway and returned to his house and his bed. 

He was not crazy.  He did not have a history of insanity in his family.  He had no excessive mental or emotional stress in his life.  He was also intelligent.  He’d earned a Masters Degree in education and literature.  With honors.  He was a respected high school English teacher and he had never in his life poisoned his mind with drugs.  He didn’t even drink that much.  Only seldom in his life had he drank enough to qualify him as being drunk, and never so much that he couldn’t remember what he did the next morning. 

And yet here he was. 

Karen was waiting for him when he returned to bed.  She was concerned, of course, and wanted to know what had happened, why he had risen and dressed, where he had gone.  He told her the truth.  He always told his wife the truth.  And of course she laughed at him and told him how silly he was because she was always equally as honest with him and it was, after all, a funny and silly thing that he had done.

But long after Karen had drifted off to sleep again, Eric remained awake, staring up at the ceiling in the faint glow of the street light that filtered through the curtains and the nightlight that shined through the open bathroom door.  He kept thinking of the dream he couldn’t remember and the odd compulsion that had driven him out of his bed and into the cool, August night. 

The following day was no better.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the dream (something about a bird…) and that feeling of desperately needing to be somewhere (now).  In fact, he still felt this compulsion.  It gnawed stubbornly at him.  His eyes kept drifting to the windows and doors.  His thoughts kept returning to the parked PT Cruiser in the driveway.  It was like an itch. 

He very much wanted to get in the vehicle and drive down the road.  Yet he remained unable to say where it was he wanted so badly to go. 

That night, the dream returned.  Like the first time, he recalled nothing but a bird (or birds, or something bird-like…he simply couldn’t remember) and like the first time, he awoke utterly convinced that there was somewhere he very much needed to be, that he was, in fact, desperately late. 

He did not make it all the way to his car this time.  When Karen switched on her bedside lamp, he stood frozen and bewildered, his pants only halfway on, squinting into the blinding glare and trying to remember where it was he thought he was going. 

Soon after, he was back in bed, the lights back off.  Karen did not laugh at him this night.  She did not tell him he was silly.  She urged him back into bed and he came willingly, ashamed of the concern he saw in her sleepy face.  The desperation he had felt was overpowered by the simple logic that he did not have anywhere to be.  He returned to his pillow without a word and she snuggled against him as if determined to anchor him to the bed until morning. 

Again, he lay awake, that feeling of being late still stubbornly refusing to release him and let him rest. 

The next day was much like the one before it.  He remained constantly distracted, his thoughts and eyes inexorably drawn to the parked PT Cruiser and the unknown roads it promised to carry him down.

Each time he forced his eyes away from the windows and doors he caught Karen watching him.  She was no fool.  No matter how many times he told her he was fine, she knew something was troubling him, and he felt terrible for worrying her.  But still he could not shake the urge to get up and go. 

The third night inevitably arrived and Eric awoke once more from the same mysterious dream with the same maddening desire to rush out of the house. 

This time, he did not bother returning to bed.  When Karen came downstairs and switched on the kitchen light at a little before three in the morning, she found him sitting at the table, fully dressed, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands and his car keys sitting in front of him. 

For a moment she stood watching him and for that moment he watched her back, admiring her.  She was considerably heavier than she had been ten years ago when he married her, but still as lovely as the day they met.  In fact, he rather preferred her a little plumper.  She’d been too skinny back when they dated, far too preoccupied with her weight.  Now that she’d accepted that there was nothing wrong with being larger than a size zero, she’d filled out her figure with magnificently sexy curves.  His eyes washed over her bare legs as she stood leaning against the doorjamb, clothed in only her favorite pajama top, her arms crossed over her chest as if chilled. 

“You know,” she said finally, “there’s bound to be an easier way to sneak off and see your mistress.”

Eric smiled up at her.  “I know.  She told me to stop waking her up at two in the morning.” 

“No girl’s horny at that hour.”

Still smiling, still admiring her lovely shape, he sipped quietly at his coffee. 

“How far did you get this time?”

“Pretty well right here.”

“Same dream?”

“Far as I know.  Still can’t remember it.”

She stared at him and said nothing.

He kept smiling.  “It’s just a stupid recurring dream.”

She was silent for a moment longer.  She would not admit that she was worried about him.  That simply wasn’t her way.  But he could see it in her eyes.  And he didn’t blame her for feeling at least a little concerned.  These dreams were troubling.  They were interfering with his life.  Neither of them had ever dealt with anything like this before. 

Finally, she spoke:  “What are we going to do?”

“I’m going to go,” Eric replied. 

This surprised her.  She stood up straight, her pajama shirt falling open a little at the bottom, where she’d left it unbuttoned.  There was no force on earth that could stop his eyes from being drawn there.  “Go where?”

Eric shrugged.  “I’ll just drive.  See where it takes me.”

“Okay…but there’s nowhere to go.  It’s just a stupid dream.  You said so yourself just now.”

“I know.  Believe me, I know.  But this is the third night in a row I’ve had it and for some reason it’s really getting to me.  I’ve been so distracted.  I constantly feel like there’s somewhere I need to be.” 

“But there’s not.  You know that.”

“I do know that,” he assured her.  “But apparently some part of my brain doesn’t.  That’s why I’m going.  I’ll open myself up to it, do what it wants me to do.  I’ll just get in the car and drive.  After a while, I’ll prove to myself that there really isn’t anywhere for me to go.  Then I can come home and finally sleep.  I mean, why not?  I’m already awake.”

She stared at him, studying him, considering what he’d said.  He didn’t know what else to say to her, so he took another sip of his coffee and let his eyes slide down her naked legs while he waited for her to speak. 

“I guess that makes sense,” she replied at last. 

“I thought so.”

“Show that messed up little brain of yours it doesn’t know what it’s talking about.”

“Put it back in its place, right?  That’s what I’m saying.”

She shifted her weight and continued to stare at him.  He could almost see the thoughts swirling behind her lovely eyes. 

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her.  “And I can finally get this weirdness out of my system.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?”

“Then it doesn’t work.  At least I’ll have tried, right?  If I’m still having the dreams after this, I’ll call the doctor.”

Karen nodded.  She knew there was no reason to be concerned.  It was only a dream.  It was irrational.  So why not embrace the irrational and see what happened?  Maybe then he’d at least be able to sleep through the night again. 

And even if it didn’t work, he wouldn’t be any worse off for trying. 

“I guess gas is cheaper than therapy,” she reasoned.

“Just a little, I think.”

“Just a little.” 

Eric took another sip of his coffee and found his eyes drifting to the door again.  He felt impatient to go, but he refused to simply rush out the door.

“It’ll be a fun little adventure for you.”

Eric returned his eyes to his wife and smiled again.  “I’ll bet it will.”

“No picking up sexy hitchhikers.”

“But those are the best kind.”

“I keep telling you, you don’t know where they’ve been.”

“If my adventure has a serious lack of romance, it’ll be your fault.”

“I’ll just have to live with the consequences.  How long will you be gone?”

Eric shrugged.  “Long as it takes, I guess.”

She didn’t like this answer.  She chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip.  He loved it when she did that.

“Probably only a couple hours.  I mean, really, where am I going to go?  I’ll be fine,” he promised. 

“Do you have your cell phone?”

Eric pulled the phone from his front pants pocket and showed her.  He hated cell phones, saw no value in them whatsoever, but she insisted that he carry one in case of emergencies.  She was utterly unwavering about it.  She’d even wanted to get him a high-dollar one with more functions than his laptop, like the one she carried, but he’d put his foot down.  He carried nothing fancier than a cheap pre-paid model from Wal-Mart.  Even so, it had an obnoxious amount of extras built into it that he had no idea how to use.  He didn’t even know how to add minutes to the ridiculous thing.  She took care of that for him. 

He returned the annoying device to his pocket, finished his coffee and then stood up and rinsed out his cup in the sink.  When he turned back around, Karen was right next to him, slipping her arms around him. 

“It’s okay,” he promised her.  “I’m just driving around.  I can drive at night, you know.”

“I just don’t like being left alone.  You know that.  You won’t fall asleep, will you?”

“I’ll stay caffeinated,” he promised.  “Just go back to sleep.  I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I won’t be able to sleep.  I never sleep well when you’re not here.”

“Try.”

“You and your convoluted schemes to sneak off with your women.”

“I like to keep it interesting.  I’ll tell your sister you said hi.”

She gave his arm a gentle smack.  “Pushing it,” she warned him with an amused grin. 

Eric smiled and kissed her again.  “What’ve you got going on today?”

“Birthday cake for Joss.”

“Oh yeah.”

Karen was a talented baker and a freelance cake decorator.  She’d earned an impressive reputation here in her home town and regularly earned fairly decent spending money. 

“Toni’s coming by to pick it up this afternoon.”  Toni was Karen’s cousin.  Joss was Toni’s son, whose first birthday was tomorrow.  He was an exceptionally adorable baby. 

“That’ll be fun for you.”

“I know.  Also, I’ll probably get started on those pies for Lana.”  Lana was one of Karen’s oldest friends.  They went to grade school together.  Lana often organized social events for the church, a responsibility she inherited from her mother when she was diagnosed with cancer several years ago.  Karen made various pies, cakes, cookies, whatever recipes she wanted to try out, and Lana regularly earned her new customers. 

Eric had tried to talk her into starting her own website, but she wasn’t interested in expanding her hobby into an actual business.  She was convinced it would take all the fun out of it. 

“Maybe I should just get started now,” she said, glancing at the clock on the stove. 

“I think you should at least try and get more sleep.  You don’t want to be too exhausted when you’re decorating that cake.”

“I guess so.”

“Go back to bed.  I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Okay.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Eric kissed her one last time and then collected his keys and walked out of the house. 

Karen watched him from the doorway as he climbed into the PT Cruiser and backed out of the driveway.

Now he had only to convince himself that this wasn’t completely insane. 

He settled back into the seat and again tried to remember the dream.  But like always, all that came back to him was the bird.  It wasn’t even an image of a bird.  It was just the idea of a bird.  As if that made any sort of sense. 

He drove away with no idea where he was going, confident that he would find nothing waiting for him in the great open world and return home satisfied and back to normal. 

# # #

Keep checking back for updates on this book’s progress.  I’ll be revealing all the details as I know them.  

Accepting the Challenge

November is here again.  It’s always been my favorite month of the year.  (It’s almost my birthday!)  I’m already looking forward to turkey and stuffing and apple crisp and all my other favorite Fall things.  But this year I’ve added something new to my plate.  This year I’m participating in National Novel Writing Month.  If you’re following me on Facebook or keeping up with my news feed over on my website (check the links on the right-hand side of this page), you probably already know about it, but for those of you who aren’t all caught up, NaNoWriMo is a competition that challenges you to write a 50,000+ word novel between November 1 and November 30 (that’s just 30 days).  It’s not completing a novel in 30 days, mind you.  That would just be silly.  It takes much longer than that just to edit a book properly.  The point is to crank out a fully penned and perfectly flawed rough draft.  And for the first time, I’m participating. 

For any fans who would like to follow along with my progress, make sure you LIKE my Facebook author page.  I’ll be posting my word count updates and a few of my favorite excerpts from the rough draft along the way, as well as interesting discoveries I make along the way.  I always let my work evolve as I write, and often my characters surprise me.  For example, on day two I was delighted to discover my main character’s sense of humor. 

I usually don’t divulge much information about my books this early in the writing process (who knows what might change by the time I arrive at the final page).  But for NaNoWriMo, I’m letting my fans in on more of the process, beginning with the title and synopsis:

Rushed

A horror and suspense novel by Brian Harmon

Eric can't remember the dream that keeps waking him up at night, yet for the past three nights he's risen from this dream with an overwhelming urge to throw his clothes on and leave, as if there's somewhere he desperately needs to be. Twice he returns to his bed, unnerved and embarrassed, half-wondering if he might be losing his mind. On the third night, he decides to let this odd compulsion take its course and sets out into the night, believing that he will find nothing out there and put these odd dreams to rest once and for all. Instead, he finds himself hurled headlong into a nightmarish adventure as his forgotten dream unravels before his eyes one heart-pounding detail at a time.

Rushed will be a stand-alone novel, not a part of The Temple of the Blind series, though it will likely take place in the same universe (as will most of my work).  It will release sometime after book 6, so all my Temple fans don’t have to worry that I’ve forgotten them.  I don’t anticipate it being particularly graphic, though there might be some elements of blood and language scattered throughout the book (only time will tell what will feel right for any given scene).  And I’m drawing inspiration from Dean Koontz’s Odd Thomas books in hopes of ratcheting up the suspense and humor. 

Wish me luck!

Free eBook!

With the recent release of the fifth book in my series, and given the already monumentally difficult task it can be drawing in new readers in such a massive and turbulent market, I’ve made the decision to offer book one of my horror-adventure series, The Temple of the Blind, for free.  You can download The Box now at Smashwords.com (for any reading device) and at other online ebook retailers as the new price becomes distributed over the next few weeks. 

A few people have told me that I’m selling myself short, that I shouldn’t give my work away this way, and I’ve admittedly been reluctant to do so, even with temporary promotional coupons.  And in the past, when I’ve distributed my work for free, I’ve found very little return in sales of other books in my series.  However, my sales aren’t exactly soaring.  Nobody knows who I am.  They know I say I’m a writer of horror fiction, suspense and dark adventure.  But lots of people say stuff like that.  Far too many of them, quite honestly, with nothing to sell but terribly written and/or barely edited trash.  I say I’m not one of them, but why should they believe me.  And none of their friends will tell them if I’m any good because they haven’t had any reason to believe me, either.  To be known as a good writer, people have to know I’m a good writer.  To know I’m a good writer, people have to read my work.  To read my work, people need a reason to buy my work.  They need to know I’m a good writer.  But to be known as a good writer…  Well, we’ve been down this road already, haven’t we?  The old “catch 22.” 

So I’ve decided to go ahead and give away book one.  With four books backing up The Box—and the next well on its way—I think this might be the best course of action for me moving forward.  So if you haven’t read any of my books yet, consider this the best invitation you’re going to get.  Check it out today on Smashwords.  (If you’re new there, you’ll only need to sign up for a free account.) 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/51950/?ref=brianharmon