Spotlight On: Conspirators of the Lost Sock Army and the Loose Change Collection Agency by Dan O'Brien

You’re never too old to have one more adventure 

Brought to life by Steve Ferchaud’s vibrant drawings, this story for all ages by Dan O’Brien lets us know that it is never too late to have one more adventure. 

An Excerpt:

Robert Pendleton opened one eye as the light of a passing car flashed over the window, shattering the darkness into prisms. He rolled onto his back on the beat-up couch and yawned as he reached his hands up and rubbed his eyes unceremoniously. 

He looked out over the darkness at the digital clock. The red digits spelled out a quarter ‘til midnight––nearly fourteen hours of sleep. He smiled and grabbed one of the cushions of the couch, burying his head in it. Just enough sleep, he reminded himself. Robert felt that anything less than twelve hours of sleep was very nearly too little. 

He grasped blindly for the TV remote. 

Groaning as he lifted his head, he looked at the empty table––his eyes drawn by another flash of a passing car. He couldn’t see clearly, but he knew that the remote had been there before he had fallen asleep nearly half a day ago. 

“Could have sworn….” he mumbled as he pushed himself up and brushed his hand around the top of the table, finding nothing. “Where did….”

Another groan escaped his lips as he lifted his body to a sitting position and threw aside the cluster of pillows that he had gathered around himself. He reached out for the lamp, but instead knocked it to the floor with a resounding thud. 

Robert muttered as he stood up from the couch, and then sank to his knees to search around in the darkness for the fallen lamp. Reaching around on the shadowed floor, shards of the broken lamp scattered like pieces of light. 

He turned his head, peering beneath the large space underneath the couch and saw the reflection of the buttons on the remote. The off-gray piece of machinery was underneath the couch––only darkness lingered beyond it. He reached out as he spoke again. 

“How did it get all the way down there?” 

Robert flexed his hand and strained as he twisted his back to reach farther; yet, the remote remained just out of reach. He pulled his arm away with a huff and craned his neck to the side, staring underneath into the darkness below the couch. 

His eyes widened as he saw the impossible: there was something beyond the remote. He shook his head and closed his eyes, whispering to himself that he didn’t see what he thought he had.

“I saw a little man,” he whispered to himself as he opened his eyes once more and nearly gasped as he did so. 

The figure was closer now and he could make out the outline clearly. A tiny man rested just beyond the remote. 

“What in the name of…?”

“Not here in the name of nobody, laddie. I be a friend though,” crooned the miniscule figure as he interrupted Robert and stepped forward, placing a hand on the darkened and slick surface of the remote. 

A tam-o’-shanter crested his bright red hair, the shaggy mane blending perfectly into his equally crimson, neatly trimmed, beard. 

A billow of whitish smoke drifted from the long-stemmed pipe that he held clenched between his lips. 

Robert fell back and knocked aside the adjacent table. Rubbing his eyes, he spoke a single word: “Leprechaun.”

About the Author:

Dan O’Brien, founder and editor-in-chief of The Northern California Perspective, has written over 20 books––including the bestselling Bitten, which was featured on Conversations Book Club’s Top 100 novels of 2012. Before starting Amalgam, he was the senior editor and marketing director for an international magazine. In addition, he has spent over a decade in the publishing industry as a freelance editor. You can learn more about his literary and publishing consulting business by visiting his website at: www.amalgamconsulting.com. Contact him today to order copies of the book or have them stocked at your local bookstore. He can he reached by email at amalgamconsulting@gmail.com. 

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Book Spotlight - Mondays With Mephistopheles by Dan O'Brien

Welcome to the last day of the Mondays with Mephistopheles: 9am - Rhys blog tour. It will run until August 9th and will feature excerpts and new author interviews each day. But first, here is the obligatory blurb about the novel to settle you into this strange world:

Abraham Rogers has an unusual psychotherapy practice: monsters. This first installment is a session with Rhys, the IT vampire who can’t quite connect with the modern world the way he would like.

A few questions for the author:

If you could clone yourself, which of your characteristics wouldn’t you want to be cloned?

Perhaps my tendency to be emotionally unavailable when something is on the line. 

What’s the difference between you and most other people?

A propensity for organization and motor that gets things done. 

Are you making some influences on the world or constantly being influenced by the world?

I would like to believe that what I am doing influences the world, but the reality is there is give and take between influencing and being influenced upon. 

The thing you cried for last time, does it matter to you now or will it matter to you 5 years later?

I cry rarely. When I do, it matters.

Here be an excerpt for your enjoyment:

Rhys shifted in his seat and folded his arms closer to his body. “I could smell incense even before we entered the room. The lights were turned down low and I could hear groaning and whispered voices. Do not confuse me with a prude, good doctor. I have been a party to many orgies in my time. This was something substantially more perverse.”

Abe resisted the urge to comment on the use of good doctor once more. “What exactly happened, Rhys?”

“The lights had been turned down low and there was paraphernalia littering the walls depicting….”

“Depicting what?”

Rhys sighed. “Your usual macabre and vampire fare, though I am dismayed at the very notion. Men painted in white and the worst music to which I have ever been exposed. And I survived Disco and this Bieber craze.”

“They were roleplaying then?”

Making a few circles with hands, the vampire seemed disenchanted with the word usage. “When I imagine roleplaying, I get the image of overweight men with terrible facial hair rolling multi-sided di. Some of these goths had fang implants, ceramic molds made to look like a child of the night.”

“What about the woman who brought you there?”

“They were having some kind of orgy. There was a fair amount of pig’s blood by the smell of it. Magnificent drapes were cast across the windows, obfuscating the light. That part I found quite useful. Otherwise, it was a sordid and ridiculous moment.”

Resituating himself on the couch with only the slightest of movements, the vampire continued. “Another of the socially inept approached me and asked if I wished to join their covenant. A meat sack asking this of me would have thrown me into a rage a century early, but, alas, I found his particular brand of melancholia amusing.”

“Amusing?”

“Very much so. I asked him how long he had been a child of the night, expecting the very pinnacle of overwrought acting and facial pinching to get the right mix of anxiety and despair. He did not disappoint. His voice deepened and he looked off into the distance. Another of the painted children changed the music to something more somber. It reminded of The Cure, a band that I quite enjoyed….”

Bio: A psychologist, author, editor, philosopher, martial artist, and skeptic, he has published several novels and currently has many in print, including: The End of the World Playlist, Bitten, The Journey, The Ocean and the Hourglass, The Path of the Fallen, The Portent, and Cerulean Dreams. Follow him on Twitter (@AuthorDanOBrien) or visit his blog http://thedanobrienproject.blogspot.com. He recently started a consultation business. You can find more information about it here: http://www.amalgamconsulting.com/.

Bitten (US) 

End of the World Playlist (US)  

Cerulean Dreams (US) 

The Journey (US)  

The Path of the Fallen (US)  

The Twins of Devonshire (US)
Mondays with Mephistopheles: 9 am – Rhys (US)
Publish Your Dreams (US)

The End of the World Playlist (UK) 

Bitten (UK) 

Cerulean Dreams (UK)

The Journey (UK) 

The Path of the Fallen (UK)
Mondays with Mephistopheles: 9 am – Rhys (UK)
Publish Your Dreams (UK)

Follow My Blog  

Follow Me On Twitter 

Like Me On Facebook  

All of his books are only 99 cents on Kindle right now!

Download Mondays with Mephistopheles for free on Kindle from 8/21 until 8/25!

Would you like to win a Kindle Fire?

Visit http://thedanobrienproject.blogspot.com/ and follow the blog for a chance to win a Kindle Fire!

Book Spotlight - The Twins of Devonshire and the Curse of the Widow by Dan O'Brien

Welcome to the seventh day of The Twins of Devonshire and the Curse of the Widow blog tour. It will run until August 17th and will feature excerpts and new author interviews each day. But first, here is the obligatory blurb about the novel to settle you into this strange world:

A plague has covered the land, a single word on the lips of the frightened masses: the Widow. Washing a wave of terror over the countryside and then disappearing like a thief in the night, the Widow holds a kingdom in the palm of her hand. The eyes of Chaos have settled on Prima Terra and heroes must rise. Xeno Lobo, enigmatic and cryptic, hunts the Widow, seeking an object taken from him years before. Will he be able to stem the tide of violence and horror that sweeps the land?

A few questions for the author:

Give us an interesting fun fact or a few about your book or series: 

This series actually started out as a space opera I wrote and published in high school. A sequel was written with this short novella as the epilogue. I had a lousy contract and the series fell apart. Years later, I decided to put it out as a digital novella.


What other books are similar to your own? What makes them alike? 

I rarely make comparisons, as that sets up a strong desire to look for another book in what you are currently reading. It is a breezy fantasy adventure that has some magical elements to it, as well as a quiet hero and a cold villain. I will let the reader decide.


Do you have any unique talents or hobbies?

I am a practitioner of Wing Chun and an avid fitness enthusiast, but I am otherwise ordinary. 

Here be an excerpt for your enjoyment:

Xeno sat upon his brown steed, the white mane whipping in the cold breeze that had sprung up a few miles outside of the castle. Uthen followed closely behind him, his posture relaxed. His dark eyes were fixed on the distance.  “How much farther until we reach Sel’verene?” called Xeno back to Uthen, who looked out upon the road distantly.  Uthen shifted his glance to Xeno, the glaze disappearing for a moment. Realizing that he was being addressed, he pushed his steed forward alongside Xeno. “At least another night’s ride. It lays along the farthest border of Me’lein, abreast the mountains where the Tower of Darkness is hidden,” replied Uthen. Xeno nodded and continued to look ahead without response. “Why do you seek out the Widow?” “She has taken something from me, something very dear to me,” replied Xeno without looking back.  “A trinket does not warrant such a journey, especially one that brings you against the will of one of the Towers of Darkness, and the wrath of the Widow.” “What she has taken was valuable to me, valuable in a way that nothing else will suffice except to end what began a long time ago in a place far from this land.” Xeno could feel a coldness grip his heart, a somber feeling that claimed his emotions.  “I am sorry for your loss, but…” “But nothing, Uthen, I do not wish to speak of such things. I appreciate your companionship, but I will not be candid about my past, or the events surrounding Karian,” spoke Xeno irritably.  Uthen nodded, not wanting to push him any farther. “Do we hope to purchase supplies in Sel’verene?” “That would be the plan, but I imagine that Sel’verene would be a very dark place being so close to the Tower. I doubt we will find much guidance there.” “Yes, I imagine so,” replied Uthen with a sigh and then gazed back into the distance again. The clouds there were aggravated and grey.  “A storm approaches.” “I see that,” replied Xeno. “Do we ride through?” “You said it is a night’s ride, correct?” “At the very most an entire night,” spoke Uthen, looking off into the distance. “Then we ride through until we reach Sel’verene.” “Then what?” “Then we rest another night and leave at dawn for the Tower. Pray that the gods are with us,” replied Xeno.  Uthen nodded again, a habit that was beginning to form as he did not know what to say to a man who could best him in combat. Something he had never been faced with until now.

Bio: A psychologist, author, editor, philosopher, martial artist, and skeptic, he has published several novels and currently has many in print, including: The End of the World Playlist, Bitten, The Journey, The Ocean and the Hourglass, The Path of the Fallen, The Portent, and Cerulean Dreams. Follow him on Twitter (@AuthorDanOBrien) or visit his blog http://thedanobrienproject.blogspot.com. He recently started a consultation business. You can find more information about it here: http://www.amalgamconsulting.com/.

Bitten (US) 

End of the World Playlist (US)  

Cerulean Dreams (US) 

The Journey (US)  

The Path of the Fallen (US)  

The Twins of Devonshire (US)

Mondays with Mephistopheles: 9 am – Rhys (US) 

Publish Your Dreams (US)

The End of the World Playlist (UK) 

Bitten (UK) 

Cerulean Dreams (UK)

The Journey (UK) 

The Path of the Fallen (UK)

Mondays with Mephistopheles: 9 am – Rhys (UK)

Publish Your Dreams (UK)

Follow My Blog  

Follow Me On Twitter 

Like Me On Facebook  

All of his books are only 99 cents on Kindle right now!

Download The Twins of Devonshire and the Curse of the Widow for free on Kindle from 8/13 until 8/17!

Would you like to win a Kindle Fire?

Visit http://thedanobrienproject.blogspot.com/ and follow the blog for a chance to win a Kindle Fire!

Book Tour Spotlight - The Journey by Dan O'Brien

Welcome to the sixth day of The Journey blog tour. It will run until August 9th and will feature excerpts and new author interviews each day. But first, here is the obligatory blurb about the novel to settle you into this strange world:

The Frozen Man. The Translucent Man. The Burning Man. The Wicker Man. The guide known only as the Crossroads, together these are the signposts and totems of the world that the being called the Lonely inhabits. Seeking out the meaning of his journey, the Lonely is a being consumed by philosophical inquiry and adventure. Filled with exotic places and age-old questions, the Journey is a book that seeks to merge the fantastical and real. Join the Lonely as he seeks out answers to his own existence and perhaps the meaning for us all. 

A few questions for the author:

Do you remember that time 5 years ago when you were extremely upset? Does it really matter now? 

More than likely not. I have managed to get past outright anger anymore. There are frustrations that creep up now and again, but I imagine anything that long ago has no bearing on me today. 

What is your happiest childhood memory? 

Any time spent playing with my brother. We do not get to spend nearly as much time together as I would like, and it seems that this will not change anytime in the near future. I find that when I visit my family, many of these memories become more distinct, more heartbreaking. 

At what time in your recent past have you felt most passionate and alive? 

Right now. I am attempting to do what I love despite the possibility of failure. It is a tremendous feeling that is both frightening and life-affirming. It remains to be seen if I can make this way of like my only way of life.

Here be an excerpt for your enjoyment:

VI

The Crossroads Revisited

The Lonely watched as the world flooded back into view. Slowly ebbing like disturbed water and then eventually setting so that he could see his surroundings once more. 

“You have visited the Frozen Man?” queried the Crossroads. 

The Lonely remembered the tundra and rubbed his hands together. “I visited the Frozen Man, though I’m not entirely certain that it was a man.”

“A relative term I am afraid,” replied the Crossroads. 

“Man?” asked the Lonely. 

He looked upon the Crossroads and the being now resembled a vagrant. A hooded robe covered him, but was torn in places and splotched with dark patches that appeared wet. 

“Yes, the term to which you apply to the being the Frozen Man is not of gender, but of nomenclature. He is no more a man than I am a woman; or you a frog. It is simply what the being is called, only a word.”

The Lonely pondered this for a moment, looking toward the north. He noticed immediately that there was no longer a signpost for the North. 

“Where has the sign gone?”

“Which sign?” asked the Crossroads.

“The one that pointed north,” replied the Lonely. 

The Crossroads moved ever so slightly, his form seemed to shimmer through the air. He gestured with a covered arm, his hands beneath darkness. 

“The North is no longer available to you. Whatever it was that you were to learn from the Frozen Man has been learned. There is nothing for you now in the cold, hence you can no longer reach it,” reasoned the Crossroads. 

“So simply because I have learned it, I cannot return to it again?”

The Crossroads shook his hooded head. 

“Having visited there, you can never visit there again anew. With the knowledge you have now, the visit there would not be the same and the outcome would be different. Hence, you can never truly revisit the North.”

The Lonely crossed his arms over his chest. 

“What was he, the Frozen Man?”

“He was the Frozen Man: the accumulation of the North and its principles––the totem of ice and cold. He was the summation of cold, hard logics that lacked passions of any kind.”

“Was?” queried the Lonely. 

The world around the convergence of the four roads had grown gray and weary. The sky above was darkness and the air around them thick in haze and fog. Had the Lonely walked just meters from his spot, he would have been lost to the fogbank surrounding him. 

The Crossroads shifted yet again, this time taking with him a tendril of the fog around him. “The Frozen Man is no more. For you to have returned, he must be no more.”

The Lonely pondered this. 

“Did I kill him?”

“Would you wish him dead?”

“No, but the way that he thought, seemed to me in many ways to be a form of death. I suppose I felt he was already dead. His logics, his mannerisms, were such that I truly believed him to be the machine that he resembled in the end.”

The Crossroads looked at the Lonely with his vacant stare. “And thus, he is no more. You have yet to understand why you are here. Do you believe that this is a journey with an end or an end to a journey?”

The Lonely shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest. “It is a journey, is it not? I am searching for something, answers to which I do not yet know the questions.”

The Crossroads nodded, but did not respond. 

The Lonely continued. 

“So then my conversation, my words, killed him?”

The Crossroads moved about the dusty patch of land that they occupied. “There are four paths and four totems, one totem for each path, and each life. There is a truth hidden among the four: the Frozen Man, the Burning Man, the Wicker Man, and the Translucent Man.”

“Four totems? Of elements? Totems of what?”

The image of the Crossroads morphed again, now he stood as a wintry traveler. A gray fedora covered his silvery hair and a wool coat wrapped his slender shoulders. Smoke drifted from a pipe at his lips and the bill of his hat covered his eyes. Only his lips moved; the subtle glean of his teeth white. 

“Four totems of life.”

“I don’t understand,” said the Lonely. 

“You are not yet meant to. There is much to search for yet. As I recall, you cannot even remember your name or from whence you came?”

The Lonely hesitated for a moment. 

The Crossroads had not previously been so candid with him. “Indeed, that is true. Can you tell me my name or where I have come from? Even from what time I come?”

“When?” queried the Crossroads. “Have you begun to question your existence?”

The Lonely shook his head, looking to his feet once more: no shoes, tan skin. He was more confused than ever. “I am not certain of anything, though I believe that you know more than you are telling me.”

“I can assure you that I know no more than what it is that I am supposed to know. Just as you are only certain of those things that are most certain to you,” replied the Crossroads. His stoic tone belied the mirth of his riddle. 

“Riddles? Truly?” queried the Lonely with a raised eyebrow. 

The Crossroads seemed incapable of anything except movement––emotions, characterizations; some levels of humanity were beyond him. “I do not wish to burden you with the riddles of the eternal. I will begin again. I believe you remember how this goes. I am the Crossroads.”

The Lonely stood up straighter as if he had been scolded for slouching. “I am the Lonely.”

The Crossroads spread out his hands, the fog dissipating as if it had never been there at all. “What path do you choose?”

The Lonely considered for a moment. “I have already seen the North, witnessed its logics. I feel as though the south calls to me––the Burning Man.”

The Crossroads remained still. 

The fog had settled farther from them now. The Lonely could see clearly the remaining three signposts. “It is just as well, I suppose,” said the Crossroads. 

“Just as well what? What is that you are hiding?” asked the Lonely challengingly. 

The Crossroads shook his hooded head. “There is nothing more than you already know. The South is now your path. Go in peace.”

The Lonely nodded and started south. 

The fog was cold on his face and he closed his eyes, envisioning a broad desert, palm trees in the distance. There in the distance he could see the Oasis, the realm of the South. Time tugged upon him, space toyed with his form, and soon he was transported once again.

Bio: A psychologist, author, editor, philosopher, martial artist, and skeptic, he has published several novels and currently has many in print, including: The End of the World Playlist, Bitten, The Journey, The Ocean and the Hourglass, The Path of the Fallen, The Portent, and Cerulean Dreams. Follow him on Twitter (@AuthorDanOBrien) or visit his blog http://thedanobrienproject.blogspot.com. He recently started a consultation business. You can find more information about it here: http://www.amalgamconsulting.com/.

Bitten (US) 

End of the World Playlist (US)  

Cerulean Dreams (US) 

The Journey (US)  

The Path of the Fallen (US)  

The Twins of Devonshire (US)
Mondays with Mephistopheles: 9 am – Rhys (US) 

The End of the World Playlist (UK) 

Bitten (UK) 

Cerulean Dreams (UK)

The Journey (UK) 

The Path of the Fallen (UK)
Mondays with Mephistopheles: 9 am – Rhys (UK) 

Follow My Blog  

Follow Me On Twitter 

Like Me On Facebook  

All of his books are only 99 cents on Kindle right now!

Download The Journey for free on Kindle from 8/5 until 8/9!

Would you like to win a Kindle Fire?

Visit http://thedanobrienproject.blogspot.com/ and follow the blog for a chance to win a Kindle Fire!