This
is Book 3 of the Legends of the Winged Scarab, my Work in Progress, with my
cover design again having received Diana Wilder’s valuable input.
In
keeping with the evil winds theme of the first two books, I had originally come
up with a working title of “Southern Trades” as most of the action plays out on
an island off Venezuela (caressed by the Southern Tradewinds). Likely too
esoteric. Then, according to the Pitch below, I thought the new
title might be more fitting.
The eruption of a
North American supervolcano and a ton of ancient gold throw together opposing
protagonists from Sirocco, Storm over
Land and Sea (Book 2) as unwilling passengers on a real abandoned ghost ship
believed still to be plying the Atlantic Ocean.
Book 3 of the Legends of the Winged Scarab series
plunges straight into this desperate post-apocalyptic world. Egyptologist
Naunet Wilkins and her scientist husband Jonathan flee the lawless land
following an uneasy offer orchestrated by Egyptian
archaeologist Jabari El-Masri, a fugitive from his own country, now living on Venezuela’s
Isla Margarita, owned by the fanatic art collector Lorenzo Dominguez. Did
El-Masri trade the Golden Tablets and the Americans’
expertise for his own survival?
Once again, Naunet is torn
between preserving an ancient treasure and sparing the world from its dire
predictions just as a new ill-wind rears up and threatens the Wilkins’s escape
from their hellish puppet-master.
Publication
is planned for early spring.
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Prologue from After the Cataclysm
(Book 3 – Legends of the Winged Scarab – 2012-2016 AD)
Those living close to the huge
caldera are quickly incinerated. Others, lucky enough to escape the pyroclastic
flow, soon suffocate from inhaling airborne ash particles. For a thousand miles east of Wyoming, the fertile plains are laid bare. Much
of the land to the west becomes uninhabitable. The United States of America—the
world’s megalomaniac Super-Power—ceases to exist.
World dominance, for what it was
worth, shifts dramatically to South America, with Venezuela at the fore and
Brazil a close second. A stream of half-starved northern refugees arrives daily
at Venezuela’s shores, having drifted on the tradewinds on anything that still floats.
But armed patrols prevent these desperados from setting foot on land so that
the shoreline soon becomes choked with their bloated bodies.
To be admitted, if not entirely
welcomed, to this New World Order, one has to have connections and possess
something of great value.
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