As I mentioned in my first post I've been lucky enough to score a book contract. The contract is for a trilogy , working title is the Guardians. Book one (working title again) is Lost @ Infinity. Genre is Sci Fi, theme is an Environmental Armageddon
So for those who might be interested here is the opening scene of Lost @ Infinity:-
My name is Grahame Charles Harris. I'm a naturalised Australian Citizen but I was born in Colorado in the United States of America where I lived until I was nine years old. I am now a forty two year old man, divorced and still fairly tidy for my age. I do not habitually use drugs of any kind and I do not have an alcohol problem. Yesterday morning I woke up in The House, not my house, The House. It seemed like an ordinary house, or so I thought at first. It has five bedrooms, all with their own en suites, a large elaborately equipped kitchen, a huge living room, another separate toilet and a jacuzzi equipped bathroom. Nothing special, white ceilings, pale blue plaster board walls, blue is predominant, carpets, drapes, the whole decor. Quite tastefully done. If you like blue.
There are a few oddities. No furniture in any of the bedrooms, except mine. At least I assume it's mine, that's where I woke up. The pantry is quite well stocked, so is the refrigerator, and the freezer. The water taps work, they supply both hot and cold running water. The lights and power also work, all the electrical switches work. There is no telephone though. The living room is fully equipped, stereo and surround sound, television, Cd's, even Blue Ray DVDs. The music selection is very good, exactly to my taste and there is a choice of new release movies, not B grade - the best of the big hit movies of this season! Once again exactly to my taste. There is a computer, it has an Internet connection. Popular, up to date, user friendly. Strange though that there is no telephone.
The computer seems ordinary enough, current operating system, current popular browser and email program. I've found I can connect to popular search engines and websites that I know. The operating system seems to have all the current patches, at least I think it does, there are so many I'm not really sure. It also has a word processor, the one I'm using to write this story on. I started it because of all the strange things that are happening.
So why am I rambling on you ask? Because I don't want to get to the strange part. It gets scary, at least it scares me. I woke up in a strange bed, doesn't usually happen, but sometimes a single man gets lucky. How lucky can you get? I couldn't even remember who I'd been with. O.K. I thought, strange bed, queen size, very comfortable but no woman. O.K. Fine. She's already up. God, what was her name? I couldn't remember a thing, not where I'd been, not who with, nothing!
My clothes were there, neatly folded, did I do that? I usually don't. Especially if the passion of the moment demands a quick undress. I had a quick shower, got dressed and noticed that the house was very quiet. In fact everything seemed very quiet, silent even. No traffic noise, no child noise, no background noise, no nothing noise. It was about then I felt the first slight chill of unease, it's surprising how comforting that background buzz of noise is to the urban man. Pull yourself together I thought, this is good, she's already left for work. I can sneak out and avoid the embarrassment of not remembering her name, or..... my God .... ANYTHING. Work! What time is it? Where am I? Will I be late again? The Boss will not be pleased.
I pulled on my shoes, found my car keys next to the orange juice, croissants and coffee set out for me and raced for the front door. I opened it and stopped. My senses reeled. I stood there, immobile for perhaps thirty seconds, then spun round and slammed the door behind me. Boy oh boy, what ever I'd been on the night before was still in my system. What had I been on? I usually steer clear of that sort of stuff, maybe someone had spiked my drink, maybe a Mickey Finn, maybe that's why I couldn't remember. Reflex action, I checked my wallet, no, the credit cards, and the money, were still there, so was my ID and a couple of personal photographs. I hadn't been ripped off.
I didn't feel drugged, or disorientated. In fact I felt great, clear head, no hang over, and the wheeze I'd developed lately when I exerted myself wasn't there either. I turned around and cautiously opened the door again, I peeked out, pleasant stone pathway, carefully manicured garden, the car was there in the drive, I couldn't see any damage, it's green, yep, that's mine, the one I always drive. Then I slowly looked out, following the curve of the driveway down to the road. My heart skipped a beat. I slammed the door again and waited for my my breathing to calm down. I wasn't hallucinating, it was still there, or perhaps I was hallucinating and nothing was there. Or perhaps I'm dead, or dreaming. If I'm dreaming it's way past time to wake up.