Release date: May 1, 2019
Subgenre: First Contact, Alien Invasion
About Bad Vibes:
Something unusual and unique occurs in the mid–forties in the U.S and
serves as the seed of change that will occur eighty years later.
Clayton Atwood is an uncommitted academic pinball, bouncing between college curricula that strike his fancy, unconcerned with scholastic advancement or degrees. Orphaned by his parent’s death early on, he lives with his eccentric uncle. Planning a carefree trip to Europe, his plans are interrupted by an innocuous note taped to his front door. It changes the course of his future.
In an unassuming building adjacent to Rice University in Houston, Clay learns that all he knew of his past is wrong and that he is now the center of an astounding scientific project that will help all mankind, but place one peaceful alien civilization in jeopardy, and attract genocidal hatred and retribution from another. In the mix is a ruthless assassin looking to wipe Clay off the face of the earth. It all comes to a brutal and violent conclusion at a secret Nevada military base.
Clayton Atwood is an uncommitted academic pinball, bouncing between college curricula that strike his fancy, unconcerned with scholastic advancement or degrees. Orphaned by his parent’s death early on, he lives with his eccentric uncle. Planning a carefree trip to Europe, his plans are interrupted by an innocuous note taped to his front door. It changes the course of his future.
In an unassuming building adjacent to Rice University in Houston, Clay learns that all he knew of his past is wrong and that he is now the center of an astounding scientific project that will help all mankind, but place one peaceful alien civilization in jeopardy, and attract genocidal hatred and retribution from another. In the mix is a ruthless assassin looking to wipe Clay off the face of the earth. It all comes to a brutal and violent conclusion at a secret Nevada military base.
Excerpt:
Suddenly, the C-17 shuddered violently and they both dropped their
drinks. With an abrupt dip as if on the downside of a
rollercoaster, they both found themselves slammed into the ceiling,
then the plane quaked even harder and tossed them onto the floor,
each luckily missing the seats. Clay tried to stand only to
have his legs cut out from under him. He sprawled and bounced
around. The coffee maker shot off the credenza and the
padlock on the Translator cabinet rang incessantly as it pounded
against the metal door. Karl had managed to jam one leg and
one arm into the space beneath their seats.
What followed was the loudest explosion Clay had ever heard.
It hurt his ears. The tremendous noise elongated and
fluctuated, not like a normal explosion. Clay could only
describe it as rolling explosions like rolling thunder. It
was visceral in its intensity. Clay could hear metal creaking
and popping as the massive transport rode the turbulence.
Karl succeeded in climbing up his chair and strapping in. He
grasped one of Clay’s arms as he rolled toward him. Clay
awkwardly climbed up Karl’s body, clutching handfuls of material
and finally threw himself onto his seat. Karl grabbed two
parachutes and tossed one to Clay. He had to yell over the
astonishing decibels of audible chaos. “Get it on.
NOW!”
Just as he managed to get his arms through the straps, the noise
started to fall, and the plane levelled out. In moments it
was like it never happened.
They both leaped up, Clay wearing a parachute. Karl never got
his on. On shaky legs they scrambled up to the cockpit.
Karl’s ears were ringing so he asked too loud, “What the hell just
happened?” He then noticed several warning lights.
Before the Captain could answer him, the red warnings started
turning to green. The Captain held her finger up, wait a
moment. Both pilots were busy checking everything out.
The Captain stopped suddenly and held her palm against her
headphone. She turned her head and looked at Karl.
“Sir, Moscow just exploded.”
“WHAT?”
“We are getting reports of a devastating and unusually large
explosion, more like a hydrogen bomb. However, no one is
reporting radiation yet. Moscow is gone, sir.”
Clay and Karl stood behind both pilots. Neither knew what to
say. Clay whispered, “They didn’t open up the switch.”
“We don’t know that. It could have been sabotage or
terrorists.”
Clay glared at the agent. “Really? I think we both know
that’s not true. All the shoddy work we saw? Nothing
approved by our people. I’m telling you, either the switch
malfunctioned, or they didn’t open it up in time.”
Amazon
About David Mayo:
David Mayo was born in February of 1950 in Houston, Texas. His
earliest career was what was known as Data Processing back then.
Accounting machines, collators, teletypes. etc. Within 20 years he
was supporting IT customers and began a new career of Technical
Writing. That led to a long stint in the medical industry.
Mr. Mayo has always been a long-hair and once posed for a painting of Jesus Christ for a Methodist Church, an unusual experience. He has published poetry and dabbled in screenplays. He has authored a lot of manuals, handbooks and even speeches.
He is a voracious reader and enjoys playing acoustic guitar. For a time in the 1990s, he was the editor of a globally well-received UFO monthly newsletter. He lives in Eastern Texas with his wife and for a time, two beautiful loving dogs. They crossed the rainbow bridge and he misses them deeply.
All of Mr. Mayo's book covers are designed by Prometheus Productions.
Mr. Mayo has always been a long-hair and once posed for a painting of Jesus Christ for a Methodist Church, an unusual experience. He has published poetry and dabbled in screenplays. He has authored a lot of manuals, handbooks and even speeches.
He is a voracious reader and enjoys playing acoustic guitar. For a time in the 1990s, he was the editor of a globally well-received UFO monthly newsletter. He lives in Eastern Texas with his wife and for a time, two beautiful loving dogs. They crossed the rainbow bridge and he misses them deeply.
All of Mr. Mayo's book covers are designed by Prometheus Productions.
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