Monday, May 15, 2017

Sky Dancers (Eternal Apocalypse, Book 1) by E.E. Isherwood

Release date: May 15, 2017
Subgenre: Post-apocalyptic, dystopian science fiction

About Sky Dancers


What good is immortality if you can't remember yesterday?

Elle is a typical doomsday bunker teenager, living under the crush of routine. She attends classes, tries to follow the rules, and endures the same petty jealousies and anxieties teens have endured since fire was used as the first hangout. But a crumbling section of tunnel exposes a big lie about her world, and Elle’s life quickly spirals downward.

She’s harassed by the enigmatic Commander. She must ward off unwanted advances from older male survivors. And, as the ultimate insult, everyone seems to know more about her past than she does. Elle seeks freedom in the plague-ravaged wasteland outside her home, but discovers the true threat to her people, and her own future, lies coiled inside the dark tunnels she left behind.

Can Elle uncover and expose the secrets buried with her underground home? Or will they fade away like the memories of everyone who thinks to oppose the Commander?

Sky Dancers is a dystopian read that will have you turning the pages! If you like mysterious wastelands, abandoned bunkers, and strong female leads, you will love the Eternal Apocalypse series!



(inside a miles-long Doomsday Bunker, a small group of teens fantasize about escape)
Alex turned around with a smile. His blonde hair was soaked. “Thanks, Bells.”
I didn't mean to agree with you,” I replied lamely. I almost stuck out my tongue like a child, mostly because he'd started calling me “Bells” to commemorate how close I'd gotten to the top of our climb. I might have liked it if I'd actually rung the victory bell, but he mocked my failure each time he uttered it.
No. It's okay. I get it. When I get to the surface, I'll leave you all down here and never look back.” He looked to the ceiling, though there was nothing up there but a few metal grates covering the air ducts.
When no one responded, I took the bait. “Where would you go?”
Alex looked at his running partner with a smile, then took off to resume our jog. He waved to the rest of us to follow, like he was going to teach us a lesson on the way. The route he picked was directly under and through dozens of the mothballed excavating machines.
I flinched at his sarcastic grin, but relaxed as I caught on he was only making sure I was near him. “Well Bells, it's uphill both ways, so I might as well go big. Check this,” he paused with flair as we jogged along.
A Sky Dancer will fall in love with me, and I'll live up there in one of the tallest trees,” he pointed straight up, “snuggling with her as we watch the real stars streak over our heads. I'll sleep soundly knowing you all are enjoying the pure black of this tomb.”
He laughed, though there was a serious undertone. He was known for storytelling—or, as I called them, lies. But there was a bit of pride, too, as if he'd had time to think through that particular dream many times before. I couldn't decide if it was the raving of an idiot or a serious idea about a better life.
I found it odd that he, of all people, would have faith in the Sky Dancers. I assumed a tough guy like him would take no stock in fables. I was sure there were no winged people watching over us, though late at night while we were all in bed Alex loved to tell kid's stories he remembered from his youth—and the subjects of angels and sky people were very common. Along with beanstalks, sleeping princesses, and little pigs. That is, fairy tales.
How he could have contemplated falling in love with a fairy made me giggle. Reba, on my right, did the same. She also pretended to stick her finger down her throat and gag.
I had a half hour to think about what he'd said. Getting out of the complex was something I'd wondered about many times, but only in the sense of “What’s the fastest way to die? Oh, yeah. Go outside.” The funny thing was that I'd recently learned the sun wasn't the enemy of humanity. And someone had thought of a plan to go Outside that could work. Of course, I wasn't going anywhere with him, but those big machines represented a way out.


About E.E. Isherwood:

  E.E. Isherwood is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse series. His long-time fascination with the end of the world blossomed decades ago after reading the 1949 classic Earth Abides. He enjoys writing about characters faced with societal collapse, global plagues, and other world-altering events.
Isherwood lives in St. Louis, Missouri with his wife and family. He stays deep in a bunker with steepled fingers, always awaiting the arrival of the first wave of zombies.




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