The Greatest Talk Show was a kickin good time, and a really great discussion with the hosts and the callers. But, you don’t have to take my word for it, have a listen for yourself!

Powered by Bookmarkify™

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Author of Synarchy Book 1: The Awakening, DCS, will appear live on Blog Talk Radio Station, The Greatest Talk Show, produced by Big Bag Studios, Sunday, November 29^th at 8 PM MTN.

[November 2009, New Orleans] It’s been a busy month for sci-fi thriller author DCS, and her debut novel Synarchy Book 1: The Awakening.  Fans have called Synarchy, “The Godfather meets Stargate.” Host of Infinite Waters, Ralph Okrafo-Smart called DCS, “The next J.K. Rowling.” All month she has appeared on various radio stations such as The Authors Show, Artists and Ascension Radio, and recently, Infinite Waters Blog Talk Radio. This Sunday she’ll sit down with Hosts Tony and James, creators of Big Bag Studio’s and their radio show, The Greatest Talk Show.

Described as edgy and provocative, The Greatest Talk show is right up DCS’s alley. For an hour on Sunday, November 29^th, 2009 she’ll be discussing in detail some of the most controversial subjects of our times in a no holds barred setting.

“I’m excited,” said author DCS, “I wrote Synarchy to help get these topics out in front of people, to offer a new perspective, and make people question their reality. It’s not just all crazy conspiracy theories, there are some compelling arguments for some of these topics, and with the world sitting at a crossroads we can’t keep ignoring them.”

Those topics include the 2012 Phenomena, a subject that more often than not is associated with doomsday and Armageddon, as portrayed by popular films such as the newly released 2012. But author DCS has put an entirely different spin on 2012 and the world as we see it.  Book Publicity and Marketing Expert Don McCauley, in a previous press release has written that, Synarchy Book 1: The Awakening, “combines 2012, conspiracy theory, the metaphysical, The Godfather and Stargate in a manner that may set a new standard for artists who hope to create entirely new genres.”

To listen live to the interview visit, http://www.blogtalkradio.com/greatesttalkshow. Listeners will have the opportunity to call in and ask questions over the course of the show.

DCS has appeared on Freedom Fighter Radio, and Artists and Ascension Radio, and Infinite Waters Blog Talk Radio station. Synarchy Book 1: The Awakening is available at Amazon.com and at the author’s website. DCS is available for interview and can be reached using the information below.

Synarchy Book 1: The Awakening
DCS
SVT Publishing
ISBN-10: 0615196756
ISBN-13: 978-0615196756

Profile:
DCS was born in Alexandria Virginia. She graduated high school in Huntersville, NC and attended the University of North Carolina at Charlotte intent on earning a degree in Political Science and becoming a lawyer. She instead eventually turned to writing.

She spent time in the corporate world in records management, and briefly considered the possibility of making a living converting corporate paper into searchable tiffs. She then realized that the telling of well researched stories was her first, true love. Synarchy is her first novel and was named a finalist in the 2008 Best Book Awards sponsored by USA Book News. Five more novels are scheduled for release, with the second Synarchy Book 2: The Ascension due out December 21st, 2009.

Contact DCS: dcstorm@svtpublishing.com

Telephone: 973-856-1343

Website: http://www.themindofdcs.com

http://www.synarchynovel.com

Powered by Bookmarkify™

I’m trying a few different things in Book 2, one of them will be small acknowledgments of when a written scene was roleplayed, meaning it has two authors. A joint creation, this scene I’m going to share with you is one of those. Written by myself and Sara Hendrickson, creator of Liliana Terenzio and Marilyn Pearl.

Enjoy! And start counting down the days until Book 2 is out!

<1970/time

<location>

<location>

Marcello Terenzio leaned against the concrete pillar with his arms folded over his suited chest. He moved through the Dion Corp Empire like a ghost.  That never made him less busy, or sought after by key people.  But, he was glad no one was bothering him right now because after telling his wife this morning he’d be too busy to wander around the Bazaar with her this afternoon there he was, waiting.

Seconds later, said doors opened and Marilyn stepped through them, with her purse hanging from the crook of her arm and her eyes fixed on the sheaf of papers in her hand.  The warm light of the afternoon caught in the waves of her blonde hair, filling the age-lightened strands with youthful color.  It was a different light, however, that came into her face and brightened her eyes when she glanced up and saw her husband standing there, waiting for her.  Marilyn smiled, deepening the lines around her mouth and the faint webbing of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.  “I thought your afternoon was booked?”  For a man who didn’t exist, he tended to be very, very busy.

Thirty some odd years later, he still felt a little like a boy with an insane crush when his wife smiled at him. Uncoiling from his stance, he stepped into her. “It is.  But I knew your husband wouldn’t be around.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb and kissed her. “I haven’t ditched a meeting in a while. I was due.”

That light danced in the blue-green of her eyes, like the reflection of water.  “He won’t be.  Not for another…”  She checked the watch on her wrist.  “Three hours, at least.”  Her smile widened into a faint grin.  “You should kiss me again, while there’s time.”

“Is that right?” He matched her grin.  Lowering his hands to her waist, he pulled her closer so he could kiss her again.

Some thirty-odd years later, she still couldn’t get enough of him.  Grin deepening in the heartbeat before his mouth met hers, she closed her eyes and caught his face between her hands, wrinkling the documents she had been studying just seconds before.

He lingered in the warm, familiar taste of her mouth, earning lowered smiles from a few of the never ending stream of employee’s that went in and out of the building.  Easing back he kissed the tip of her nose.  ”What are you putting on the American Express card today?”

Her nose wrinkled affectionately when he kissed it.  “I haven’t decided yet.  I thought I would wander up and down the aisles and see what jumps out at me.”  She glanced away long enough to stow the papers in her purse.

“Now that sounds exciting.”  There was teasing in his mock excitement.  Once she was done stowing her papers he took her hand in his own.  ”You know there are better things we can do with a quiet afternoon.”

“There are,” she agreed, threading her fingers through his.  Her grin resurfaced.  “But if you’re ditchin’ all of your meetings, then you and I have the rest of the day to do those better things.  The bazaar closes at seven.”

“Fine. I’ll just drag you down a deserted alley like we were in our twenties again.”  And he just might have been serious.  Giving her hand a gentle squeeze he tucked his other in his pants pocket and began walking in that direction.

She didn’t doubt his sincerity.  Time might have given them a few wrinkles and gray hairs, but it hadn’t smothered the flame that burned between them.  If anything, it had made that flame burn hotter and brighter.  Marilyn could think of no better way to spend an afternoon than basking in its glow.  “Let’s try not to get caught this time.”

Marcello laughed, shaking his head in sheer amusement at the memory.  ”The expression on that man’s face was priceless.”

She laughed with him and rubbed a hand over her cheek.  “I think it took a day or two for the red to come out of my cheeks.”

“That near perminate blush suited you.”  Clear affection lighted his gray eyes as he glanced over at her.

“Suited you, maybe.”  She dug him good-naturedly in the ribs.  “As if it wasn’t bad enough that I couldn’t get rid of it, but whenever someone asked me about it, it burned up into my ears and went a darker shade of red.”

That did nothing to prevent another round of laughter. “I still say that wasn’t the worst.  The near catch in the elevator, now that could have been a disaster.”

She laughed again – she could, in hindsight – and wrapped her hand around his suited arm, giving it an affectionate squeeze.  “Oh, I wouldn’t have been able to look those people in the eye for a month.”

The humor made the corner of his eyes crinkle.  ”It would have been my fault, you did warn me.  But then again, I never seem to be able to help myself.”  He turned his head, pressing a kiss into her hair before he turned his eyes back to the crowded open market.

“You’re about as good at not bein’ able to help yourself as I am at denying you.”  She smiled up at him, her eyes glittering, before glancing out over the bazaar with its bustling, open stalls and charming blend of island authenticity and Alcyone tourism.  It was one of Marilyn’s favorite places.  Tightening her fingers around his as she made her decision, she led them into the closely-packed aisles of the food vendors.  She might as well pick up a few things for dinner, while they were here.

A slow smile curved his mouth as he watched her.  Like most men, shopping wasn’t high on his priority list but, Marcello simply enjoyed spending time with her.  And annoying her at intervals.  He stood next to her while she browsed, then said, “I had lunch with Kayla today.”

Marilyn chatted amicably with the locals as she browsed, asking after family members and loved ones and the well-being of dogs and goats and the occasional chicken.  The man from whom she had been buying fresh eggs for the last twelve years had just finished updating her on the condition of his favorite spotted hen when Marcello spoke.  Mari paused, glancing up at her husband, and tucked her carton of newly purchased eggs beneath her arm.  “How did that go?”

“It was….fun.”  It had only been recently, that he’d stopped being so much of a ghost in Kayla’s life and attempted to at least, get to know her.  Or at least the face she showed them.  Marcello found it difficult to stop the faint smile that touched his mouth.  ”She has your stubborn look.”

Neither could Mari stop the small, pleased smile that settled along her own mouth.  Kayla’s existence – and now presence – had been trying, to say the very least, but Kayla was her daughter.  She was her flesh and blood.  She knew her in ways that no one else did, and she was connected to her in ways that no one else would ever be.  It pleased Marilyn that she had passed some of herself into the child that had been a stranger to her for so long.  “It’s funny how you bring that look out in both of us, don’t you think?” she teased.

“I just have that effect on the women in my life.”  Marcello winked at her, his smile deepening.

They were in the process of building a parking garage across the street.  The lot was half finished.  It was from the second level, absent of the construction workers that had called an early day that the assassin set his eye in the scope.

“You love every minute of it, too.”  She stepped into him, lifting onto the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek, and slipped her arm through his.  The dry, cloying scent of fresh herbs and heavy, fragrant spices drew her further down the aisle, and she stopped a stall laden with sacks of seeds, leaves, and finely ground powders.   Mari peered consideringly at the selection.  “What did the two of you talk about?”

He leaned into her kiss, and then followed along at her side.  ”Where she wanted to go to college, and whether or not she wanted to join the company afterwards.”  His mouth twitched.  “The conversations that our son tried to avoid.”

The assassin curled his finger around the trigger, slowly turning the weapon.  The scope made a bulls eye over his targets chest.  He held his breath.

Mari sifted her fingers through a mound of fennel seeds and smiled at Marcello over her shoulder.  “What did she say?  Is she going to follow your footsteps to Harvard?”  If a mother’s love could turn a killer’s heart, then maybe, just maybe, a father’s could be softened; allowed to love another girl as completely and as fiercely as he had loved the daughter that he had lost.

“She’s considering it.”  The whole conversation had amused him.  Since coming into his father’s world, one of empires and crime, the time of his life spent in typical academia often felt like it had happened to someone else.  ”I told her I’d go with when the two of you fly out to Boston to take a firsthand look.”

He could wait no longer.  He squeezed the trigger, just once.  He didn’t bother to stick around to see if he’d hit his mark, he knew it had; Marilyn Pearl – Terenzio would die. Abandoning the gun, Matthew DeMarco turned around, and jogged away.

“I’ll make the arrangements, then.  And after the official tour of the campus, you can give us the real tour.”  Passing on the spices for now, she smiled at the young woman behind the stall, thanking her for her time through that simple gesture, and turned toward Marcello–but halfway through that turn, she jerked back.  Behind her, a fine red mist that she couldn’t see burst into the air.  Marilyn’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.  Her brows furrowed, confusion and shock seeping into her features.  She glanced down and saw blood welling in a round, perfectly formed hole in the front of her shirt.  “Marcello…?”  That was when her legs gave out, and she sagged against him.

There had been moments in his life when he felt like the world was giving way beneath his feet. But nothing, nothing was quite as horrifically surreal as the moment he realized his wife had been shot.  Shock spread across his face, his eyes dropping towards her chest that was rapidly staining red.  No. “Mari?”  He stepped into her, catching her weight in his arms.  No.  No.  No. “Mari? Baby?”  That smooth, calm voice was suddenly frantic.  He sank to his knees, and pulled her back from him so he could see it.  And the world just didn’t give, it shattered.  He snapped his eyes up to the woman behind the stall.  ”Call an ambulance! Now! Tell them Isis is down. Do it!”  He barked it and after a shocked pause the woman ran off to find the MP Officer that was stationed somewhere in the crowd.

There was no burst of pain.  There was no heat, lancing through her chest.  She didn’t feel anything but a distant tingling in her toes and a cold weight that spread through her ribs and pushed down on them.  The world moved a little more slowly than it should have, and the sounds of the bazaar seemed distant; muffled.  She could hear Marcello, though.  His voice and the panic that edged it were perfectly clear.  Mari dug her fingers into his shirt, holding herself up as she drew a deep breath.  It made a wet, bubbling sound and hitched in her chest.  She coughed, and realized what was happening when she took her hand from her mouth and saw that it was spotted with dark red blood.  She was dying.  “Marcello…”

No.  No.  No. He wished he were an ignorant man when it came to guns and executions, because he knew what a shot like that meant.  Knew it didn’t matter much if the ambulance got here in the next thirty seconds; his wife was dying.  His Mari was dying.  No.  No.  No.  He refused to believe it.  He couldn’t believe it.  How could he possibly do this without her? “Mari stay with me.” He pulled her closer with one arm and touched her cheek with his other, his eyes desperate and pleading.  ”Hang on Mari, just hang on.  Please.  Please.  They’re coming.”

There was no fear.  There was no panic; not in her voice, at least.  She sank into him, breathing in shallow, bubbling gasps as she wrapped her blood-flecked fingers around the hand on her cheek.  “It’s okay,” she said softly, pressing her forehead to his.  “You’ll be okay.”

No it wasn’t.  No he wouldn’t.  His grip was almost clutching, as if he could will her to stay with him.  ”Mari don’t.”  His voice cracked.  He could feel the tears wet and cool, rolling down his cheeks.  ”Don’t leave me.  You can’t leave me.  I can’t do this without you.”

His arms were warm; so very warm, and wonderful.  Her one regret was that she couldn’t wrap her own arms around him now, because the tingling was spreading and numbness was following in its slow, cold wake.  It was all that she could do to keep hold of his hand.  And to smile through the tears that rolled unchecked down her cheeks.  “Yes, you can.  I love you.”  Her voice trembled with emotion.  So, too, did the corners of her smile.  “I love you.”

“Baby, no.  Mari, please.”  Marcello starred down into her eyes and felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. “I love you, too.  Mari, I love you so much.  Don’t go.”

Her breath came in shorter, desperate gasps.  Her pulse tripped erratically in her throat.  She felt the seconds stretch longer and longer between heartbeats, and the world went a little darker each beat.  Marcello’s face–that beautiful mouth and those eyes; how she loved the color of his eyes, like the soft, luminescent gray of the sky after rain–swam in and out of focus, and in a moment of desperate clarity, she clutched his face, wanting to see him clearly one more time.  “It’s okay,” she whispered, nuzzling his face.  She brushed his tears away with her thumb.  It left a bright red streak down his cheek.  She kissed him then, tasting the coppery tang of blood on the warmth of his lips, and gave him one more smile.  “I love you, Marcello… I love…”  The light went out in her eyes, and her had slipped off of his cheek.  She was gone.

When those beautiful, expressive aquamarine eyes went blank, Marcello shattered.  For a moment he was deathly still, his face twisting as the pressure, the grief in his chest grew to such a crescendo he wanted nothing more in that moment than the join her; because surely, he couldn’t live with this pain.  Gripping her to him tighter, Marcello’s silent tears, became a heart-wrenching scream.

Powered by Bookmarkify™

When I finally sit down to write these blog posts my head is usually a flurry of information I want to give to you. My email box is full of newsletters, blog links, all kinds of the “out there” stuff I like to talk about it and it’s difficult to discern what I should be rambling on about that will not only keep you a regular visitor of my blog but entice your senses to give my Book, Synarchy a try.

Today as I’m going to provide a few author/book news updates and then drop right into another blog post on Atheism. As far as book news goes, we’re still ticking along. It can be frustrating at times, clicking on that link that shows sales and watching the number not move. But, persistence, determination and my nonstop work and learning process of marketing will prevail. Eventually you will buy Synarchy, and I’m certain you’ll love it. As far as book promotion goes, we have two reviews that will be incoming soon, I anticipate within the next month. We will be a guest on The Authors Show, the interview has already been taped, now I’m just watching the website and waiting for a scheduling slot. I will be pitching to more radio shows over this week so I’ll keep you posted.

If you haven’t been following us on our podcasting station well you should! I’m reading book chapters, and mixing in a few episodes related to the roleplay game. You can find us at http://dcs.podOmatic.com with new episodes recorded every Tuesday.

I will be starting a video blog within the month. I’m toying around with the subject matter, but it will follow the same vein as the blog. I might delve more into government conspiracy theories and mix in the grander spiritual picture with that. I’ll keep you posted on that as well.

Synarchy Book 2: The Ascension has a tentative release date for December 21st, 2009. You can expect to see a thicker novel, and of course the expansion of the metaphysical, government conspiracy theories, and shift in consciousness information that you saw in the first book. And of course some really great drama, laughs, tears and a lot of excitement.

I’ll admit, writing it has been slow moving. I find it very difficult to force myself to write, though thanks to the roleplaying game Synarchy 2012, I’m writing everyday, just not always that thing that’s going to get me out of the stinking hotel business.

The final author update is a very exciting one, at least for me. I will be attending the University of Metaphysics, the University System of the International Metaphysic Ministry and obtaining a doctoral degree in Metaphysical Science. In order to legally practice this, my doctoral degree is classified as a doctoral in a specialized area of religion so, upon successful course completion I will also be an ordained minister.. Minster, Doctor Storm if you please . I’m insanely excited about this and can’t wait to get my hands on the course material especially as I delve into writing Book 2. It is very important to me that while weaving this highly entertaining fictious tale I also stick in there some truth, and things you can take with you long after the book is sitting on your book shelf collecting dust.

That’s enough with the not as interesting as a discussion on Atheism. Let’s move onto that.

Powered by Bookmarkify™