About
the Book
Title:
Affected
Author:
Randi Lee
Genre:
Mystery / Suspense / Thriller / Dystopian
Eight years ago,
there was no World Government. There were no agents, no carts. The
fear of a nosebleed did not exist. Then came The Affection—an
incurable disease that ran rampant across the planet, killing off
roughly 60% of the human population. Two years later—with order in
shambles and governments all over the world in ruins—the World
Government formed. That’s when the real trouble began. The WG made
it its mission to segregate the sick (known as “Affected”) from
the rest of the population in an attempt to keep the disease from
spreading. Agents were put into place to corral the ill and the
God-forsaken carts were introduced.
For the past six years, Ethan has lived a quiet life. He has done his best to remain out of the public eye and, more importantly, off of the agents’ radars. However, when his ex-girlfriend, daughter of the famous scientist who first discovered the disease, is captured by agents and taken to World Government headquarters to be experimented upon, Ethan can no longer pretend the world around him doesn’t exist. On his way to save her, Ethan is thrust into a place of turmoil, espionage and conspiracies. Will he be able to handle the pressures of reality? Will he be able to save her in time?
For the past six years, Ethan has lived a quiet life. He has done his best to remain out of the public eye and, more importantly, off of the agents’ radars. However, when his ex-girlfriend, daughter of the famous scientist who first discovered the disease, is captured by agents and taken to World Government headquarters to be experimented upon, Ethan can no longer pretend the world around him doesn’t exist. On his way to save her, Ethan is thrust into a place of turmoil, espionage and conspiracies. Will he be able to handle the pressures of reality? Will he be able to save her in time?
Author
Bio
Randi
Lee is, first and foremost, a writer. She has many years of
experience in both the creative and professional writing fields. Her
creative portfolio includes two short story/poetry collections, a
full-length novel and numerous short stories and poems published
independently. Professionally, Randi has written copy, content, and
many articles for the companies she has worked for and with. Having
worked in several different fields, Randi has a clear understanding
of how to write for a variety of clients and situations. Randi’s
adaptability and virtuosity lend themselves well to any project.
Randi
is also a successful editor and proofreader. Again, her talents carry
across a broad spectrum of projects, from editing individual
manuscripts to proofreading copy for professional companies.
Knowing
what is needed for a multitude of writing projects provides Randi
with a keen sense of how to best approach each challenge she is
presented with.
The benefits of working in a vast array of markets, from insurance to architecture and beyond, are evident in Randi’s unique ability to provide support in numerous ways. She is well versed in several different types of software and web-design applications, including Sharepoint, Wordpress, Squarespace, GoDaddy and more. Randi is also proficient with the Adobe Creative Suite, including Photoshop and InDesign. Web content development, formatting and management are just a few tricks she has hidden up her resilient and malleable sleeve.
The benefits of working in a vast array of markets, from insurance to architecture and beyond, are evident in Randi’s unique ability to provide support in numerous ways. She is well versed in several different types of software and web-design applications, including Sharepoint, Wordpress, Squarespace, GoDaddy and more. Randi is also proficient with the Adobe Creative Suite, including Photoshop and InDesign. Web content development, formatting and management are just a few tricks she has hidden up her resilient and malleable sleeve.
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Book
Excerpt
Even at night the
agents wear their amber tinted sunglasses. This one takes his off.
One of his mud-colored eyes is lazy. The other rests intently on
Grant’s heart shaped face. “Is that dried blood under your nose?”
I stiffen. Grant
doesn’t. “The people will wonder why a snooping reporter who
showed no previous signs was suddenly picked up.”
The agent’s lips
curl into a slight ‘U.’ “I do believe it is blood I see.”
“That’s enough
Jones,” says a second agent. I know that voice, that face—the one
that’s just sharp enough to stand out against the sea of endlessly
indistinctive men in suits. I should have recognized him at the door.
“She isn’t the
reason we came,” Agent Cameron says sternly. “Let’s get back to
the task at hand.”
Both agents stare
at us respectively. The first looks at Grant. Cameron looks at me.
After they walk away she shakes visibly and turns around. Her face is
so childlike in this moment, so cognizant of what could have
happened. Maybe she isn’t as tenacious as Gracie. Gracie never
shakes—at anything.
I place my hand on
the small of Grant’s back and watch as the two agents flank the
restaurant’s chef. He’s a burly man with enough muscle on him to
take his apprehenders down and run. But the gentle giant does as they
say. He tells the sobbing hostess to take care of the restaurant and
heads out of the brick-walled School Street Bistro with silent class.
When the three men
reach the door, Jones pauses and gives us a final look. Cameron says
something to him that gets him moving.
The agents lead the
chef out of the restaurant. Things do not go back to normal so
easily, not the way they did back at the ball game. Awash with the
tragedy of the moment, people mourn the loss of the chef in different
ways. Some leave, some bow their heads and others lose the battle to
tears. The hostess gives a speech about the man the chef is. A round
of clapping follows.
“This doesn’t
make sense,” Grant says. “The chef was Affected. Doesn’t that
mean he was serving Affected food? He could have made us all sick.”
“What’s your
point?” I ask.
“My point is that
those agents could easily take us all in for fear of contagion.
What’s stopping them?”
Cameron’s card
comes to mind—the one with the embossed gold lettering and three
contact numbers. I sift through my wallet and pull it out.
“Me,” I say,
staring at the card. “I’m stopping them.”
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