|
John Truman, a bright, introverted, college student belongs to the New Dawn...he just doesn't know it yet. The 300-year-old, Oxford-based, secret society designed him and built their organization to interface with him. They cannot survive without him; he cannot survive without them. All he wants is to get through today; all they want...is to rule the world.
Buy your copy!
Amazon
Smashwords
Mark Adair
One crisp October evening John and his buddies prepare for one of their famous college parties. Upstairs, he tosses down a couple drinks trying to muster up enough courage to join the crowd. Several men outfitted with military gear literally crash the party and kidnap George, one of John’s friends. A lengthy investigation headed by FBI Agent, Sam Johnson, ends with all leads exhausted.
Attempting to start over, John and his best friend, the light-hearted Paul Eastman, move out west. In California they uncover clues about George’s captors, drawing them into the web of the New Dawn – an international organization comprised of intelligent, influential, and sincere devotees. Bleeding-edge technology enables The New Dawn to operate undetected by government agencies.
While John’s identity struggle creates a point of connection for most readers, the primary target audience would be suspense/thriller fans interested in cutting-edge technology. My 25 years architecting software systems for organizations such as US Navy and Disney served as my foundation for creating the plausible technological scenarios. The pacing and tension with hints of spiritual underpinnings remind me of works from Dean Koontz, Dan Brown, and Ted Dekker.
Excerpt
My mental grip slipped as I once again lost the struggle to resist the latest onset of the recurring vision:
Four men, one whom I thought I should know but couldn't remember, gathered around a small table in a dark corner of a small room. Their voices soft, almost hypnotic, spoke Latin with English or possibly Scottish accents. They discussed economic systems, political structures, social causes, theological constructs, and people groups as if they were simply pawns on a chess board.
At some point in the complex, and occasionally inaudible, conversation the words Necessitas non habet legem would rise above the others, triggering a morbid and sickening reaction in me - I wanted to throw up. I would try to look away, but the more I resisted, the stronger those words held me in their grasp and the further into the room they drew me.
Finally, they would look up at me, vacant, zombie-like expressions in their eyes, point to the empty chair, and say, “Welcome.”
|
|
Bookmarks
