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Eye of the Storm: A New Sci-Fi Adventure Novel

Close to a decade ago a story was conceived. A tale of adventure and struggle, of faith and will; a future world that feels eerily possible; an epic quest and a handful of characters to take one on a wild journey.
Over the years this story survived numerous incarnations; feature film, mini-series, back to even bigger feature film. And now bonafide novel.
I’m glad to have returned to my creative writing roots. I had feared that years of screenwriting had dulled my narrative drive. That may still be the case, but I shall know soon. For you see, EYE OF THE STORM is now out there for the world to see. Folks have been adamant that I announce as soon as I know, so today, for those of you with kindles, kobos or ipads you’re in luck!

Amazon Kindle

Amazon Paperback


It’s also available in the ibooks store and Scribd. Soon it will join the Nook/Barns and Noble and Amazon has the print version for those of you who would prefer a nice paperback for the shelf.

I’ve learned, and re-learned, a lot in the making of this book. This novel has taken two years to adapt from the screenplay, of which I owe much gratitude to Ryan McCondach for partnering with over the years. More than one of the key, cooler sequences came from his brain. Thanks man, and here’s hoping the Storm blows ever higher.

I’m excited for people to read it (and hopefully at least somewhat enjoy it) but I’m even more excited to take what I’ve learned and apply it to the next book. As my author intro says; I’m just getting started.

Thanks everyone. Enjoy


The strange vehicle sped across the desert sands as its driver, Deacon, raced for his life.

The vehicle was a motley collection of parts, pieced together from numerous types of cars; a side panel from and Oldsmobile, a hood from a Camaro, a back cab from an old Ford pickup. Though they somehow fit, they looked like they could also fall apart at any moment. In the back of the truck was a modified miniature garden, a mobile vegetable patch with vines hanging on wires and plants sprouting from the dirt laid inside.

The winds around the truck were intense. Sand blew everywhere at high speeds, limiting almost all visibility ahead.

The Storm was everywhere, as it had been for a very long time…

Deacon pressed his foot on the gas as hard as he could as he glanced in the rearview mirror. In the far distance stood the Stormwall, the perceived border between the ‘safety’ of the Eye and the raging chaos of the world beyond. The Stormwall itself was massive, reaching well into the clouds and encompassing all that wasn’t the Eye itself.

The Stormwall crawled along at a deceptive pace, and Deacon knew his tribe, the Pathfinders, would have to move again soon.

For a moment, Deacon reflected on the face looking back at him in the mirror; middle aged and worn. A hard life peered from his eyes.

Deacon’s moment of reflection was broken however as the mirror showed two vehicles, similar to his, following behind. Deacon sighed in relief. These two were friends, ones he’d thought lost earlier. Perhaps they’d all make it after all.

Deacon’s passenger, Creed, glanced in his side mirror. Creed was a little younger than Deacon, yet still sported that same weathered look. “Deacon, we got company!”

Deacon glanced to Creed, and saw his navigator’s manic look. “Well don’t just sit there! How many?”

“Just one,” Creed answered. “But it’s a monster!”

Looking in his rearview mirror, Deacon spotted a third vehicle that had indeed joined them.

It was a much larger truck, adorned with spikes, hooks and barbs on the front and sides. It gave the appearance of a mechanical predator, shooting its way through the sandy sea toward its prey.

That truck was no friend of Deacon’s. The driver behind the wheel was a member of the Dog tribe, and he was not alone. Two other Dogs were in the cab with him. They all had numerous piercings and tattoos that covered their faces and arms. They hooted and hollered as they gained upon their target.

Creed drew his gun, an old and scraped pistol, and cocked it.

In the Dog truck, the two passengers aimed their weapons, improvised crossbows that fired metal junk shards, at one of the two following vehicles in front of them. They opened fire, and sharp pieces of metal and scrap flew through the air like angry hornets toward the third car. The metal pieces pierced the vehicle’s shell with ease, cutting through the driver in a hail of shredding action.

The driver was killed instantly, and the car twisted and slipped into the dunes until finally flipping and smashing in a mangled heap.

“No!” Deacon screamed.

“Keep her steady,” Creed said as he leaned out his window. Taking a moment to aim, he pulled the trigger and the Dog truck’s front left tire blew. The truck skidded but did not falter, so Creed fired again. The other front tire exploded and the truck came to a frantic halt.

A relief filled Deacon, until a moment later fear overtook everything.

Another Dog truck appeared from a side trail. As it joined the chase Deacon could make out three Dogs riding in the back cab. They almost instantly caught up to the other car following Deacon. The Dogs then rummaged through their ordinance, soon pulling out a bottle of fuel. Stuffing a rag partly into the bottle, they then lit it on fire. One Dog raised it high to throw.

Creed fired his gun again, but his aim was off.

The bottle struck the back of the Pathfinder car and an instant later flames consumed it.

Deacon held back tears meant for his fallen comrades. He knew the Dogs would be on him in moments. Without thought he reached into his tunic and withdrew a small jade ring with the chain around his neck was looped through. The ring itself had no fancy jewel inlays or even any intricate carving. Just a simple, smooth surface of jade.

As he caressed the surface of the ring between his fingers, he thought back to the day before when they’d left the tribe for this supply run.

If only he’d brought more help. If only he’d been a better leader. If only he’d properly said goodbye to his son…

Deacon was pulled from his thoughts as the Dog truck pulled up next to Deacon’s side with ease. Drawn by the Dog’s maniacal laughter, Deacon glanced out his window to find himself looking down the end of a crossbow.

This is it then, Deacon realized. Goodbye Aiden…

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And remember, Dream Free.


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