Machines of the Little People
by Tegon
Maus
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
When
Ben Harris' sister passes away, her husband, Roger Keswick, is mysteriously
absent from her funeral. It's not until 6 months later that Ben is pulled back
in to Roger's life, only to find that he's moved on. His new wife may be called
Jessica, but she's the spitting image of Ben's sister. Things escalate when
Roger claims there's a factory under his house run by little people called the
Katoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
He had run to the end of the house with the garage. There, in that corner of the building, was a
small offset in the design that held six or seven medium sized bushes. In the side wall of that corner, the opposing
inspection vent. The soil was damp here
as well.
"Stand right here," Roger said, bouncing in place
on the balls of his feet.
I stood were he asked.
"Feel it?" he asked expectantly.
"Feel what, Roger?"
"The machines."
My mind raced to find the right response.
"Their machines.
Feel it? The hydraulic
vibration? They're running full bore,"
he said with admiration.
"I don't feel it," I answered but I wanted
to. I wanted to feel it for Roger's
sake. I wanted this to be more than just
in his head.
Dressed in his business suit, he removed his jacket,
throwing it to the ground. He sprawled
out, pressing his ear to the dirt.
"Listen to them.
Listen to the power. My God, it’s
exhilarating," he yelled as if speaking over the drone of some powerful,
massive machine. "Come on,
Ben. It's only dirt."
I moved to lay next to Roger, pressing my ear to the soil.
At first, all I heard was the rhythm of my breathing and
that of Roger. I held my breath breaking
the pattern. Faintly, barely audible
came a steady even pulse. I pressed my
ear harder to the ground, trying to sort out what I heard. It did have a faint, repetitive, mechanical
sound.
Interesting plot to say the least. This book pulled at the heart strings in the beginning and then took you into a whole different side of things. Losing someone to cancer is where I struggled at first with, hard to get past that part and almost made me lay the book down. Glad I didn't. The twist that comes in at the funeral and there after keeps things going smooth. Recommend this to all readers alike that loves a good read!
*Received for an honest review*
Interesting plot to say the least. This book pulled at the heart strings in the beginning and then took you into a whole different side of things. Losing someone to cancer is where I struggled at first with, hard to get past that part and almost made me lay the book down. Glad I didn't. The twist that comes in at the funeral and there after keeps things going smooth. Recommend this to all readers alike that loves a good read!
*Received for an honest review*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
I was raised
pretty much the same as everyone else... devoted mother, strict father and all
the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn't friendly, I just
wasn't "people orientated". Maybe I lived in my head way more than I
should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until
I met my wife.
The first thing
I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can't remember what it
was about... something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my
closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after
that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a
variety of ideas before I got back to writing.
It wasn't a
deliberate conscious thought it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had
joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams
as they occurred. "Be as detailed as you can," we were told.
I was thrilled.
If there is one thing I enjoy it's making people believe me and I like to
exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an outright lie mine you, just a little
step out of sync, just enough so you couldn't be sure if it were true or
not. When I write, I always write with
the effort of "it could happen" very much in mind and nothing, I
guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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