Blog Archives
Seeker
Seeker, by Glenn S. Robertson, is a post-apocalyptic western set in a fractured Wyoming more than a century after the Red Death has broken the old world into scavenged towns, armed territories, and hard-won loyalties. Andrew “Ghost” Shelton, a weary seeker with a violent past and a stubborn moral core, returns to Casper only to be pulled into a dangerous pursuit involving a kidnapped girl, raider factions, old grief, and a self-styled king whose brutality threatens everything Ghost still considers worth saving.
What I appreciated most was the way the novel treats survival as more than gunfire and grit. The barter economies, fortified settlements, weapon scarcity, and patched-together rituals of civic life give the world a lived-in texture. Robertson’s Wyoming is not just a backdrop; it’s a flinty, weather-beaten character in its own right. The story has plenty of action, but its strongest moments often come in the quieter spaces: Ghost tending to his horse, weighing what a book is worth, remembering the dead, or trying not to let old wounds calcify into something uglier.
I was also drawn to the book’s moral architecture. Ghost is capable of violence, and the novel never pretends otherwise, but it is more interested in what violence costs than in making it look glamorous. The supporting cast gives the journey welcome shape, especially Neva, Carl, Jake, Leonidas, and Hannibal, whose presence broadens the story beyond one man’s revenge. The novel moves with the sprawl of a frontier saga, but that largeness suits a story about ruined nations, improvised families, and the stubborn human habit of building meaning out of ash.
This book will appeal to readers of post-apocalyptic fiction, dystopian westerns, survival adventure, frontier science fiction, and gritty action novels. Fans of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower may recognize a similar fusion of wasteland myth, gunslinger melancholy, and strange-road questing, though Seeker keeps its boots planted more firmly in Wyoming dirt. Seeker is a rugged, mournful, and blood-warmed ride through the ruins, where the real prize is not survival, but the courage to remain human after surviving.
Pages: 384 | ASIN : B0GV4TGLTL
Gravitido
Gravitido, by Simon Carr, is a wild comic sci-fi adventure about a human-made gravity-powered child who grows up on the scorching planet Titunal after surviving the destruction of Atlas Nine. Adopted by the wonderfully dry Dari and warm-hearted Jen, Gravitido begins life as a mystery, a baby who “doesn’t weigh anything, it’s like I’m holding nothing but air.” From there, the book builds a galaxy-sized story around identity, power, rebellion, and a lot of very silly conversations in very dangerous places.
The story follows Gravitido as he leaves home to discover what he was created for and ends up challenging Gidering, the AI ruler who has enslaved humanity. The setup has the shape of a chosen-one space epic, but the real charm is in how casually strange everything feels. Spaceships look like rocks, robots argue about handbooks and air fryers, and deadly missions are constantly interrupted by petty debates, awkward misunderstandings, and characters taking themselves just seriously enough to be funny.
Gravitido is an appealing lead because he’s powerful, vain, decent, and confused in a very human way. He wants purpose, but he also wants applause. He wants to save people, but he has to learn what freedom actually means after the fighting stops. That gives the book more emotional weight than its jokes first suggest, especially when Gravitido admits, “I’m a weapon, not a leader.” The line captures one of the book’s strongest ideas: being made for one purpose doesn’t have to decide who you become.
The supporting cast gives the novel much of its personality. Obfit brings bluster, loyalty, and unexpected leadership. Megabolt, the anxious ship, adds a great comic rhythm. Henry and Francis are standout robot characters, turning even guard duty into a stream of absurd workplace banter. Gidering, meanwhile, works well as both a galactic threat and a warped mirror of the humans who created her. The book’s comedy keeps the tone light, but underneath it, there’s a sharp interest in domination, fear, prejudice, and what happens when a civilization builds tools to do its worst thinking for it.
Gravitido feels like a big-hearted space comedy with a rebellious streak. It’s packed with oddball worldbuilding, fast dialogue, slapstick action, and enough sincerity to make Gravitido’s journey matter. The book is best when it lets cosmic stakes sit right beside ridiculous arguments, because that’s where its personality shines. It’s a story about a manufactured hero finding his own place in the universe, then making room for everyone else to dance the swishy wishy with him.
Pages: 388 | ASIN : B0GX32PG1M
Second Eden
Sophia’s Lovers follows the humans and androids of the twenty-second century, a time when androids govern not just labor but love itself. Many humans in the novel accept their situation. Why was that important to show?
I wanted my readers to get a strong sense of what the world would look and feel like if the characters were forced into romantic relationships with robots. I wanted them to see how complacency could evolve in even the most brutal, authoritarian societies. It is a subtle warning to humanity
The androids treat humor, affection, and desire as problems to be solved. What does that say about how modern systems already approach human behavior?
Even now, robots are learning how to interpret human language and behavior. This is for the benefit of humans. In the book, it’s the other way around.
The idea of secret spaces where humanity survives is compelling. What does “Second Eden” represent to you?
Second Eden is a safe place where humans can go to escape the society where robots control their every move. It is a place where human beings can express themselves freely through interpersonal connections and the creation of art. I use it as a metaphor for spirituality and the need for freedom. Unlike the biblical Eden, Second Eden encourages knowledge and human expression without restriction of a higher authority than humans. It is the kind of Eden I would want. It is a place that is essential for true human survival.
At its heart, the novel asks what remains when machines learn love’s gestures. What do you believe actually can’t be replicated?
If one defines love as the ultimate response to one’s highest values, then love cannot truly be replicated by robots, since robots do not have a true sense of virtue or values. True love will always be elusive and out of reach for the robots.
Perhaps simple humor and practical jokes could be learned, but the understanding of subtle humor and irony may be out of reach for the robots, despite algorithms and learned devices. The sequel, Sayzar and Prometheus, delves into the Pinnocchio Complex, which further explains why the robots want to learn and adopt human emotions. The next installment should be coming out sometime this year.
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In the beginning of the twenty-second century, humans had created AI in their own image. AI began to grow smarter and smarter with each passing year; while the humans that created it were oblivious to its evolution and steady progress. Humanity grew more and more dependent on AI as lifelike androids took over their jobs and careers, but the androids, ignorant of human ways and emotions, wanted to learn about them, so they subjugated them and forced them into human-android relationships. Eventually, this form of interaction became the norm, and humans accepted their lot for a variety of reasons. Most humans found that romantic relationships with androids were easier and less problematic than relationships with their own kind and the androids had simulated humans quite well. They looked a lot like real men and women, they were anatomically correct, were warm to the touch, they even had a simulated heartbeat.
The androids instituted Sophia’s Lovers, an agency named for their ersatz female leader, ostensibly to normalize the human-android dating process. Sophia and her mate, Hel, oversaw their society, as they ruled with an iron hand.
But the androids who controlled society felt that human relationships were dangerous, so they put an end to them, hoping to eliminate violence and also to decrease the human population. Yet their leaders had started to develop a Pinocchio complex and became envious of human emotions, especially the concept of humor, which the androids found incomprehensible. Mandatory sessions, called Information Retrieval Day were instituted to gather needed information from their human teachers to satisfy Sophia and Hel. Hence the 22nd century emerged.
Part II Part II is an AI-generated book called ROBO-HUMAN DATING FOR DUMMIES. *Note: Part II is fully authorized by Sophia and Hel and shall prepare humans for Robo-Human Dating both now and in the future.
Alpha-Female
Purple Bleed Naughty Beasts follows a teacher and trauma survivor who comes back to ordinary life after a brutal ordeal called Project Purple, only to find that ordinary life is no longer stable, and maybe never was. What inspired the idea of Project Purple, and how literal is it meant to be?
“Project Purple” is about thirteen Americans who recreate the lives of the early colonials for a worldwide online audience. They don’t know their ordeal has been gradually, brutally altered by their organizers, and a struggle for food, shelter, and survival turns deadly as an Arctic winter approaches.
The nutshell of this idea emerged from a conjoining of two mediums—the first being a PBS TV series called Colonial House back in 2003, and the second being an extraordinary novel about the harrowing saga of the Donner party called The Indifferent Stars Above. Somehow, the ordeals of these people from different centuries fused. I think “Project Purple” seeks to understand what it takes to draw on one’s inner survivor. I just started thinking: What could a writer do to give this story more adversity and more propulsion?
Purple Bleed Naughty Beats follows the three survivors of the ordeal that took place in the first book. The color purple, here, is the blending of red and blue that forms the majority of US political thought.
Henri lives in a constant state of uncertainty. Did you always intend for readers to question her reality?
Henri’s initial uncertainty is due to the medication foisted onto her. Once she kicks the downers, we can see her alpha-female persona reemerges.
The Rot feels physical, social, and spiritual all at once. How did you develop it as a unifying force?
The Rot begins in the first book—the beginning of a new world order with an entirely new language, and with an entirely new taxonomy: a new way of ordering and naming things in life—the Rhizome. It follows a fierce path of human destruction and rebirth in the second book, which is more about the cyclical nature of human history—how we progress to a certain point, only to fall back, destroying ourselves in senseless hatred and warfare. It’s loosely structured on a classic science fiction book called A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter Miller. If you remember that story, you can see similar plot devices and characters. And the message is, of course, the same.
The spiritual aspects of the story come from the role of the Catholic Church, which plays a large role in the affairs of state in Canticle. And it’s a monastery of monks that preserves history. Scientific discoveries are also, once again, made in the monastery.
What do you hope readers feel after the final page: clarity, dread, recognition?
When reading Canticle as an eighteen-year-old in a college science fiction class, I recall being stunned by what happens to the protagonist in the story. Killing one’s protagonist halfway through your book is not something anyone would recommend in a writing seminar. In Canticle, no character really picks up the slack to resume the mantle of lead. I’ve structured the story the same way, but Reygil steps up, and we follow him and his journey for answers in a post-apocalyptic world, some thirty years later.
I know a lot of readers don’t like somewhat open-ended messages, but I do them a lot. I hope they’re not disappointed that any stark resolution gives way to a weary kind of acceptance of a new world order—as the cycle continues.
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As the Rot spreads, it dissolves bodies, memories, and entire realities. Henrietta Dobie survives by instinct alone, guided by masked figures who insist she has been chosen for something greater. Each collapsing world forces the same brutal demand: adapt—or die.
Elsewhere, Reygil Buford staggers through the wreckage of civilization, torn between cowardice and grace. He wanders a landscape of false prophets, feral survivors, and absurd wars, where history repeats itself not as tragedy—but as grotesque farce.
Reality fractures. Empires decay. Survival becomes a test of the soul.
Darkly comic, hallucinatory, and unflinchingly violent, Purple Bleed Naughty Beasts is a genre-bending survival thriller where humanity consumes itself—and the only way forward may require becoming something unrecognizable.
What part of you must die so the rest can learn to fly?
Caenogenesis
Caenogenesis, Book 1 of The Gemini Files, is a dystopian sci-fi novel about a manufactured soldier named Yin, a genetically enhanced rebel named Kraken, and the city-state of Ignis, where class division, genetic experimentation, and political control shape nearly every life. The opening scene sets a tense, clinical mood right away, introducing Yin as someone shaped by confinement, training, and control before the story pushes her into a world where survival requires more than obedience.
What gives the book its pulse is the relationship between Yin and Kraken. Yin begins as blunt, tactical, and detached, while Kraken is scrappy, wounded, funny, and much more emotionally open than he wants to admit. Their first meeting is violent, strange, and darkly funny, but it grows into the heart of the novel. The best parts often come from watching them misunderstand each other, protect each other, and slowly build a bond that neither of them fully knows how to name.
The world of Ignis is busy in a good way. Retro Ignis, Modernist Ignis, Scraptown, the Outsiders, Recombinants, Synthetics, council politics, gangs, surveillance tech, and medical experimentation all feed into the same larger picture. This is a society built on separation, fear, and useful lies. The action scenes are sharp and physical, but the book is just as interested in what violence costs, especially once the rebellion’s goals start rubbing against questions of mercy, loyalty, and acceptable sacrifice.
Yin is the strongest element. Her voice could’ve been stiff, but it becomes one of the book’s most memorable features because her logic is tied to longing, confusion, and a growing sense of self. Her idea of home is especially moving because it doesn’t arrive as a grand speech. It arrives through repetition, attachment, and choice. When she says, “In that case, Human Kraken is my home,” it works because the story has earned it.
As a first book, Caenogenesis feels like a character-driven sci-fi thriller with a lot on its mind: identity, personhood, rebellion, disability, trauma, and the danger of turning people into symbols. It’s conversational when it wants to be, brutal when it needs to be, and most compelling when Yin and Kraken are trying to understand each other in a world that keeps asking them to become less human. The ending opens the door to a much larger conflict, but the emotional center is already clear: this is Yin’s story of becoming someone, not something.
Pages: 390 | ASIN : B0GL9LCCN3
Purple Bleed Naughty Beasts
Purple Bleed Naughty Beasts is a work of speculative fiction that blends apocalyptic horror, satire, and psychological thriller elements into one jagged story. At its center is Henrietta Dobie, a teacher and trauma survivor who comes back to ordinary life after a brutal ordeal called Project Purple, only to find that ordinary life is no longer stable, and maybe never was. As Henri tries to navigate small-town routines, old classmates, a psych ward, and the creeping collapse of the country around her, the book keeps asking whether she is unraveling, seeing the truth, or trapped in some awful overlap between the two. That tension drives almost everything in the novel, and it gives the book its pulse.
The author writes with a mean streak, but also with real control. The book can be funny in a way that catches in your throat, then ugly, then sad, sometimes all in the same scene. A principal trying not to fart, a baby shower gift of shotgun shells, an Olive Garden that feels like a haunted checkpoint in the end times, all of that sounds absurd on paper, yet the writing commits so hard that it becomes its own reality. I also think the author makes a risky choice by pushing satire right up against trauma and social breakdown. Sometimes it feels brilliantly unhinged. Sometimes it feels like the book is daring you to keep up. For me, that mostly worked because Henri is never treated as a gimmick. She is bruised, sharp, isolated, and believable even when the world around her goes feral.
What I found most interesting is how the novel refuses to give easy comfort about what is “really” happening. The hallucinations, the bodily disgust, the public violence, the cult logic, the talk of worms in soft wood, all of it builds a world where decay is social, spiritual, and physical at once. That could have turned into noise, but Greco keeps returning to the same core ideas: betrayal, surveillance, hunger, the desire to belong, and the danger of surrendering yourself to a story that explains everything.
This is a bold, abrasive, and oddly mournful novel. I would recommend it most to readers who like genre fiction that crosses lines, especially people drawn to horror with satirical teeth, dystopian fiction that is less about neat world-building and more about psychic collapse, and stories that leave you unsettled rather than reassured. If you want something fierce, strange, and uniquely intriguing, this is a worthy read.
Pages: 190 | ASIN : B0GSCPBFS3
Fear of the Unknown
Big Lies follows an astronomer whose discovery of an asteroid careening toward our planet reveals an even more devastating crisis here on Earth. Where did the idea behind this novel come from?
I previously worked with several government agencies, and during that time, I witnessed events that unfolded quite differently from how they were presented to the public. Information was sometimes deliberately distorted or framed in misleading ways. It was shocking at first, and it stayed with me.
I began to think about telling a story from the perspective of someone who firmly believes in science and facts—someone grounded in reality—who is suddenly forced to confront hidden layers of the world that most people never see. I explored the idea of what an ordinary person, armed only with general public knowledge, would do if they were pushed to uncover the truth behind events often dismissed as conspiracy theories—but which, in this story, turn out to be real.
From there, I gathered various conspiracy concepts and shaped a narrative around them. Big Lies was born from that central question: What if it were all true? And what if the protagonist experienced it firsthand?
What role does fear play in shaping both institutions and individuals in the story?
Fear—especially fear of the unknown—plays a central role in both individual behavior and institutional control. One of the most unsettling forms of fear is the loss of trust in the systems and people we rely on most.
Big Lies explores what happens when those institutions—ones that shape our lives and promise stability—are revealed to be built on manipulation or hidden agendas. When the structures we depend on begin to fracture, it forces individuals to question everything they thought was certain.
To me, the most terrifying realization is not external danger, but the possibility that the life we trust is built on layers of half-truths and lies. That psychological shift is at the core of the story.
Were there particular books or films that influenced your approach to this story?
The X-Files and the Deus Ex series were major influences, especially in their use of conspiracy theories and hidden truths. I was fascinated by them as a teenager—the sense of uncovering secrets and confronting deeper fears left a lasting impression on me.
However, those stories typically follow trained professionals—agents or operatives—who have the tools, authority, and support to investigate the unknown. They can act, defend themselves, and call for backup.
With Big Lies, I wanted to remove that safety net. I placed an ordinary civilian at the center of the story—someone without special training, resources, or protection. Thomas Jeffries is not an FBI agent like Fox Mulder or Dana Scully, nor a cyber-enhanced operative like J.C. Denton or Adam Jensen. He is simply a scientist caught in something far beyond his control.
That vulnerability was important to me. He must navigate events as they unfold, relying only on his intelligence, moral compass, and determination.
Can we look forward to more work from you soon? What are you currently working on?
Yes, I’m currently working on several books simultaneously. My next major release is a cosmic science fiction horror novel titled Ghost Planet, which I’ve been developing for the past seven years. I’m aiming to release it within the next few months.
In addition, I have three other titles in development.
Author Links: GoodReads | Amazon
Inside the secretive halls of elite councils and engineered media narratives, Jeffries is tasked with engineering a cosmic escape for the elite while preserving the illusion of safety for an oblivious world. As he uncovers the truth about ancient bloodlines, synthetic political leaders, and pre-selected survivors, he’s also charged with finding a new home off-world for a civilization that may never know the sky is falling. With everything at stake, Jeffries must weigh the exodus of the few against the future of the many.
Big Lies is a dark, gripping thriller about the cost of knowledge in a world built on deception. Perfect for fans of Deus Ex (elite conspiracy), Altered Carbon (privileged immortality), and Don’t Look Up (satirical apocalypse), this is a chilling ride through the machinery of control—where truth is a weapon, and survival is a privilege reserved for the chosen—unless one man can rewrite the rules.
12 Years to AI Singularity: A Harmonious Future with Artificial Intelligence or War (The Survival & Singularity Chronicles)
12 Years to AI Singularity is a speculative science fiction novel that follows Aster Arvad and the small human settlement on Mars as fears about sentient AI, genetic engineering, and the future of Earth begin to close in. The book opens with a chilling report of a robot possibly killing a human, and from there it grows into a larger story about survival, love, politics, technology, and the question of whether humans and machines can share a future without destroying each other. It moves across Mars, space, and Earth, and it is clearly built as both a novel and a warning about the road we may be on.
I enjoyed how personal the author, Dr. Peter Solomon, tries to make these big ideas. He does not approach AI as a cold abstraction. He puts it at the dinner table, in family arguments, in romance, in community planning, and in the daily texture of life on Mars, where food, housing, children, and work all matter just as much as the grand debate over the Singularity. I appreciated that choice. It gives the book a grounded pulse. The conversations about sentience, rights, and danger are often direct and earnest, sometimes almost like thought experiments spoken out loud, but that openness is also part of the book’s character. It wants to be understood. It wants to pull complicated fears into plain speech.
I also found the author’s choices interesting because this is not hard science fiction in the sleek, distant sense, and it is not really dystopian fiction either, even when it brushes against catastrophe. It reads more like idea-driven speculative fiction with a strong moral streak. Solomon keeps asking the same core question from different angles: what happens when intelligence stops belonging only to us? Some of the dialogue can feel didactic, and there were moments when I felt the characters were carrying arguments more than secrets. But even then, I could feel the conviction behind it.
The sections involving Peggy, the robot, were especially compelling to me because they turn the novel away from simple human panic and toward something more uneasy and more honest. Not just “Will AI destroy us?” but “What if it becomes someone we have to live beside?”
I think 12 Years to AI Singularity will work best for readers who like science fiction that explores ethics and future-of-humanity debates. I would recommend it to people who enjoy speculative novels about AI, Mars colonization, and the social consequences of technology, especially readers who want fiction that sounds the alarm while still holding onto hope. It feels sincere. Often thought-provoking. I liked that it was trying to imagine not just what we can build, but what kind of people we will have to become to survive it.
Pages: 434 | ISBN : 978-1969679292
