Tag Archive: Arts



Calhan, Colorado cemetery.

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Now where was I? Oh, the early starts of religion and how they twisted under the corruption enveloped the world views. That should be easy to explain. Right. Like I want to touch on that with great detail even in the fictional world. I’ll let the first novel unravel religion about a third into the storyline. Religion (not just the ones we follow today) is so large it could fill a whole series of War and Peace size novels. Nope, going the easy route today. Sticking with the concept of zombies (undead).

In the novel Temperature: Dead and Rising I explained how cemeteries put the undead into a near complete death-like state. There is a reason behind it I didn’t mention in the first novel. That part of religion came from believing in what was right and good. The correlation between the two ran parallel, which gave a resting place for the weary undead to seek refuge. When a need for them was great they broke free from the soil to protect the hallowed ground or return balance once more. This bit of history helped grow a fear of graveyards in general. Besides ghost taking over your body while in a cemetery at midnight, who wants dead body reaching up to grab ankles. Nowadays the undead use abandoned graveyards resting next to forgotten churches as supernatural prisons.

For lesser crimes, one of the undead might be buried for years based on the crime against the undead (the only crime they care to judge on). Heinous crimes would call for dismembering a body and placing each piece in separate graveyards to keep follower from digging up the convicted person and setting him or her free. By now you get the picture of how the undead cannot die. Now I’ll answer the question for the rotting, putrid flesh issue.

The ‘Deadman’s Drink’.

Corny name to be sure but the undead try not to mince words too often and call things what they are. This elixir made of exotic plants and other minerals make up the mystical concoction that keep an undead body looking young and whole. A smell still lingers like that of decaying flesh, which has to be masked by a spell so others (humans) don’t know what they are. Good way to hide from most humans, not so much from supernatural creatures. The drink is taken every forty years or so to keep up appearances. Some of the undead use this skill to enter into public office or start a career as a celebrity. Would you believe me if I told you Elvis was one? Why else are there so many sightings have he’s been declared dead so long ago.

Moving on, Spell casting is a tricky mess for some and nonexistent for all humans. Supernatural beings have the innate ability to cast magic around. It draws on what some might call a soul. For this very reason humans cannot weave spells or cast curses. Mixed breeds like the witches can do a little hocus pocus but it can drain them immensely. Witches are considered the redheaded stepchildren of the supernatural world. That said, they carry big sticks filled with ancient knowledge shared only between other witches. None care to offend a witch for she may come back with a vengeance.

Other supernatural creatures have long life expectancies with some regenerative powers to compensate, although, in the end magic will kill them if they draw too deeply. However, the undead have a battery like the energizer bunny. They will get depleted, but can recover without the fear of dying. Another reason they were built by the side of righteousness.

To be honest – there is more to tell about the undead and what they can do. I believe telling more might give away what comes next in the following two novels I have planned. For now, I hope you have enjoyed my tale of fictional history. Please leave comments below.

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Zombies as portrayed in the movie Night of the...

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This was a long time coming and I have no clue why I waited to write this at all. I am about to shell out how the myth of zombies (related to Temperature: Dead and Rising) came to be. What I mean to say is some of the secrets behind the undead will be left for the sequel so I can limit how many spoilers are written here. The very idea on the undead walking among us unnoticed intrigued me enough to write the first of the trilogy. Why would the undead not be seen for what they are? Rotting corpses stick out like a sore thumb if you ask me. The idea started out simple and grew complex. I hope to keep the facts in order as I retell some of the story and make up the rest.

The word “zombie” will only be used as a reference point for you, the reader, as I recount the history of the undead with some of the lines blacked out to protect the innocent or of possible spoiler alerts being manufactured. We all know what a zombie is or could be, a flesh-eating monster craving brains without ever getting smarter from eating those brains. Likewise, their flesh is always falling off but never to the extent of becoming a pile of bones. Can’t have bones walking around without overlapping muscle and ligaments to hold them together, now could we.

There is where I always have an issue with zombies – chomping on the living and never falling apart; however, the undead can blend into the crowd and look like you and I on our better days. You are probably asking yourself, “Why would that be?” and you have the right to ask (Yes, we all talk properly in our own heads). The undead were created by the Powers-That-Be to work for them in the mortal realm. To whom are these godly being connected to? Good question – that’s why they’re unnamed. Did I answer your question? No, didn’t think so.

Him, Her, They, or It (if you prefer) helped create what we call Earth as our home. Good and Evil shared in shaping and creating this world to its current state. Chaos for the most part ruled us, but peace could be around the corner. At first, each would take turns developing an animal. The other would make one to devour the first. These challenges they played against each other made them realize neither could win. What did change the outcome was a new rule put in place and agreed by all – let what they had created grow on their own to determine the final endgame. Some of the creatures brought to life are now stories we tell children at night to keep them from venturing too far from the warm sheets they snuggle in bed with. Boogie Men, Werewolves, Succubus, sleeping giants, and the like became myths as did the undead I speak of here. These supernatural creatures lacked vital proteins once the gods abandoned them. Most of the supernatural hybrids died off, too weak to continue from lack of real food – that being the yet born humans. Although this new food source would prove difficult to catch.

Differences between Good and Evil created a distinct line between them as the creatures of the Earth grew and multiplied into free thinking beings; keeping the two opposing sides at arm’s length from interfering to influence the newly evolving creatures being born. From the first among the creatures to have individual thought each side agreed to introduce themselves and let the growing populous decide for themselves whom to follow. Grunts were made by the yet-to-be cavemen and decisions made. No matter how enticing the corrupted gods tried to make them sound better, good still won out. It was decreed one last meddling in the world of man would take place. A champion for each side would be born to guide humanity along. The side of Good chose what had passed could be renewed (giving us the undead), while the side of Evil gave rise to a single demon that could raise his own disciples.

From there on, the power-that-Be took a backseat in guiding the world they made to see what happened next. The undead grew at a steady rate of only a few a century and the demon made leaps and bound to gather followers. Each champion would spread the word of his or her ethereal being to worship and take unheard guidance from. Most of the supernatural beings that came about first joined the ranks of corruption, even some of those born for the righteous gods. Soon Good found less of a foothold on earth.

It was time The side of Good brought their champions into play. Unbeknownst to the rulers of chaos was the undead could not die. Evil had nothing to fight back with. No matter how many times it’s forces tore the undead apart they would just pull back together and fight on. The balance was brought back to normal and the scales even again between rivaling sides. The eldest fighting for Evil died; leaving behind less knowledgeable siblings. As time passed the reason of where they came from died also.

The undead became the guardians of balance for both sides. The eldest of them taking refuge in caves as they had before becoming undead. Those that knew the truth kept it to themselves because knowledge is power and the complexities surging from man’s own misguided thoughts hid the biggest secret the world would know. Even the single demon chosen to champion the ways of Evil saw how hiding the truth could serve a higher purpose. Such as misleading the number of religions and making them doubt what they believed. Easy to do when the people didn’t know what they believed in or worshiped.

I’ll stop here. Tomorrow night will be part two because it is after midnight and the blog is exceeding long. Someone might not make it to this line to find out I have more to say. Some of you might and I thank you for bearing with me.

A great way to get an interview!


Close up of a pen with something it wrote.

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To participate in the interview process, sharing your book while giving insight about yourself, please answer these questions. Just add it (copy and paste) to the comments area when contacting me.

1. Tell me about (book title).

2. What was your inspiration behind (latest title)?

3. Which other authors have influenced you as a writer?

4. What made you decide to publish independently?

5. Where is your book available?

6. How did you come up with the title?

7. How did you choose your genre?

8. What inspired you to be a writer?

Have fun with it and respond soon!

What could be in the works


Free place to sleep

I have added some parts of my manuscripts to Authonomy for people to read for free. I plan to add some short stories along with what I already have there soon. Please stop by to check out what I’ve written so far and come back to see what else I add. Thank you for your support. BTW, I have a few backers now for getting my next novel out. You should stop by and drop some of those coins stuck between the cushions in the tip jar, too. Have a great day!

Be prepared for the coming sequel.


Intentionally blank pages at the end of a book.

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If I can raise enough funds at KickStarter, then this sequel will make it to print. It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? I would like to share an unedited first draft excerpt for you to enjoy while you mull over clicking the KickStarter link and support an indie author get published. Please read the following with a thought in mind, the parenthesis holds a place for the lucky ones to have their name immortalized. So here we go:

A hand grabbed hold of his shoulder and pulled (him) into that menacing darkness. The sure grip held tight as more hands balled up swung at his upper torso. They rained down on him like jack hammers beating concrete. (He) tried to block as much of the punches as he could but it brought stinging pain to his arms where they hit.

Barely able to stand on his own two feet, the one holding his shoulder let go to watch him crumple to the ground. He could not believe that one hand was the only thing keeping his body from falling the whole time. “That was for ruining our beloved man-servant,” a hauntingly cool voice spoke out. The man speaking brought uncontrolled shakes to (him) after a glint of white flashed sharpened teeth for just a second, “Now, we take out our own vengeance on you!”

Beneath the sinister depth of those shadows grew a growl deep within it’s chest. He was not sure what to make of this man, but he was sure human no longer had anything to do with it. Abruptly, silence prevailed and (he) felt the last moments of life tick loudly in his ears that never came.

A quick flash of light was barely visible beneath his tightly shut eyelids as he had prepared for the killing strike. Heels scraping across asphalt urged his curiosity to break the hold the fear had of dying and open his eyes to see what was happening. The bright light earlier had only lasted a few seconds dropping everything black into pitch blackness – apparently to daze (his) attackers. Faceless shapes stood out from the opening leading to the street beyond, lit by stray headlights of a passing car. He counted four shapes instead of the three originally there.

Another set of headlights revealed one person fending off the others.

To his eyes the bodies of these attackers blurred in an out like a bad twilight zone episode. One minute standing out of reach, the next minute dropping out of the sky to pounce. The weirdest thing to (him) was the almost complete silence of the whole fight. A swish of clothes here or a faint grunt there could be heard above the otherwise din of silence.

It was eerie.

The occasional smash of a body hit the brick wall or a trash can collapsed under the weight of a fallen body was the only other sounds made. They all moved too fast for his eyes to keep up with the action. He just hoped the stranger came out on top, Unless he also means to harm me.

The lone savior to his predicament fought valiantly against the malevolent shapes.

Shapes.

(He) could no longer bring himself to call them human any longer. When the things rebounded off the walls to attack they crouched down on all fours before pouncing toward the prey. No human could do that, thinking in amazement as he watched it unfold before him.

When one appeared in midair, the stranger drove an object from somewhere in his jacket, sharpened to a point at its tip, into the creature’s chest. It was the only time any of them made such a distinct sound. Nails scrapping across a chalkboard could not compare to the ear-piercing howl it made after the stranger’s deed. A second leaped out of the air appearing like the rest in blurred fashion to find the same fate as the first. The third tried to escape with little success. A brilliant bar of blue light shot out from the stranger’s hand disintegrating the body in seconds.

It has to be some military style laser gun to do that. Seen it in movies I think, (he) mulled over in his head.

Then it was over.

Please don’t forget to leave comments below.

A Day Worth Writing About.


How do I put into words what it meant to fulfill my first signed contract for a book signing. The day started by me gathering up all the supplies for the trip. Books, pens, bag to carry supplies into the store, and an array of plate stands to set my book up on.
After that, I still had to get myself ready mentally and physically for the main event. Once prepared for my little adventure there was still an hour drive before setting foot on the holy ground – a major book retailer’s carpet.
As I made my way through the doors I thought trumpets sounded in the distance of my arrival, but of course that was the theme music playing in my head. The other authors had shown up earlier than I had with half of them all ready, books erect in little stands of their own. I should have gotten there a little sooner to mingle amongst the gathered writing gods. Yes, I said gods. Isn’t an author considered a god when the words they write down create a whole new world? Well, that’s my thought and I’m sticking to it.
The group was a diverse one with all of literature’s genres crammed onto tables in the shape of a horseshoe. People came in and browsed our wares, picked up a business card or flyer, skimmed one of the books, and some even walked away with said book in hand. Two hours of chatting up the authors on either side of me and talking at length about my novel to prospective customers made the time fly.
In the end, we all had a good time, sharing tips each author learned in preparing and selling their manuscripts. Valuable things were taken home that day. Our books in customers hands for one, and information shared between like-minded people. May they all pay tribute to the literary gods for many more book signings and prosperous days to come.
Adam Santo
Author of

I hope to join the ranks of these other indie start-ups sharing their individual projects collectively through a site called KickStarter. This website offers a chance to make dreams come true for those that have a vision. To share what my vision is visit my Temperature Series Project for more information.
I worked hard to self publish my first novel and promote it. I used every bit of cash I had (even scrounged between the cushions) to get the money up without asking a soul to help. Now I hope to find generous people out in the world to support me in my endeavors this time.
Check out my project, moreover, please take a look at some of the other up-and-coming talent who’ve posted their wares for all to see. KickStarter is trying to help us all and I am thankful for their own vision to help others fulfill a dream. If my goal isn’t reached I will not see a dime. That is the long and short of it for any of us trying to find backers. I am willing to drop my standards of getting a better novel out than my last one (mainly because I could only afford one copyediting service) if I can’t pull off this project.
I am not a pessimist in thinking I might not get the funds to produce a second published novel – I just have a backup plan if this doesn’t pan out.
As far as self publishing goes, I will choose a different publisher with e-book services and possibly audio book formats. My first self publisher, CreateSpace, is a good company to go through and have nothing to complain about. I would like more for my money though. Lightning Source has a list of self publishers to consider if you are in the market to publish your own manuscript. Beyond that, I have nothing to offer when it comes to marketing anything. Best of luck to anyone reading this.

UPDATE (10-30-2011):

The second book ran into some publishing ‘potholes’ along the way, work to finish the manuscript is in full swing and so is your chance to support it. Please stop by and drop a coin in the coffer.