Release date: March 9, 2017
Subgenre: Superheroes
About Simon Rising:
Five years ago, an alien ship crashed into the bay. Since then,
vigilantes and criminals with extraordinary powers increasingly dominate
headlines.
A man wakes up in the hospital with no memory. He's told he is Steve Ambrose, a serial bank robber who was shot while being arrested. Everything changes when he discovers he has telekinetic powers. Hunted by FBI Special Agent Rachel Moore, and with unknown enemies around every corner, can he change who he is, or is the dark criminal everyone accuses him of being too deeply a part of his nature to escape?
A man wakes up in the hospital with no memory. He's told he is Steve Ambrose, a serial bank robber who was shot while being arrested. Everything changes when he discovers he has telekinetic powers. Hunted by FBI Special Agent Rachel Moore, and with unknown enemies around every corner, can he change who he is, or is the dark criminal everyone accuses him of being too deeply a part of his nature to escape?
Excerpt:
“Steven Ambrose,” a woman’s voice echoed through a megaphone, “this
is FBI Special Agent Rachel Moore, we have the building surrounded.
You have nowhere to go. Surrender yourself before things get any
worse.”
The men were closing again, now three or four floors below him.
There were eight of them. At this level the stairs were not
enclosed, but they did keep rising. He would be able to directly
see them—and them him—all too soon. His elevator shaft was just
dark framework at this point, not enclosed in walls at all.
He focused on a steel I-beam, and it ripped itself loose, smashing
through one stairwell. Stair debris rained down on a pair of cops
who dodged backwards only to tumble to the landing.
Further up the floors were not even completely floors yet. He
jumped two levels up onto a steel girder. It did not take much
concentration to hold himself there, but he was afraid of what
would happen if he lost that concentration and fell. Shadows
reached further down the shaft than he could see.
Once he singled out another I-beam he used it to rip out another
stairwell. He leapt another two floors up, and then there were only
a couple more left above him.
He could see the lit city skyline all around him. The glowing core
of downtown was easy to find, and the city stretched out from
there, intermittently jutting up into the darkness. Clouds covered
perhaps most of the stars in the sky and obscured the half moon,
darkening the girder framework around him.
The police reached his level, a pair of them each at two opposing
stairways. All had guns drawn, pistols and shotguns. Rushed eyes
found another girder only attached at one end. He pictured it
bending from force at one end, blocking off a stairwell and forcing
the cops back down. The girder ripped itself free of others, and
lurched like a striking snake that bit the brick wall of the
stairwell. A shower of bricks and cops tumbled down the stairs.
“Dammit!” He really didn't want to hurt them, if he could avoid it.
He turned to his two remaining pursuers. His breathing was fast,
and he was powerless to slow it.
A vaguely familiar black woman in a suit stepped out onto a girder,
megaphone in hand. The FBI woman handed the megaphone to a
uniformed police officer still on the steps. She gestured the
officer back and down, and he retreated.
“Do you remember me, Steven?” the FBI woman called out. “We met in
the hospital when you woke up. I’m Agent Moore. Why don’t you call
me Rachel?” She took a few tentative steps closer.
“I kinda remember you, I think,” Steven admitted. “Those first few
days are kinda fuzzy.”
“That’s because you were shot, Steven. In the head. You should be
under medical care, Steven, not balancing for your life up here.”
Steven scanned around him. Only the two were relatively nearby.
Swarms more were just arriving at the ground. He was running out of
time.
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About Brian D. Howard:
In my day job I'm a low-level manager in Corporate America. By
night I make up stories I hope people like enough to buy. I’m
driven by “what if” questions, and often those lead to story of
book ideas.
I’ve lived in a motorhome traveling the country, and oh, there are some stories I could tell. I was born and raised in the Chicago suburbs and I’m happily living in Denver, CO now, with no intention of moving anywhere else.
Writing has been a passion for most of my life. I've had to set it aside in the past, but so many circumstances have changed, and now I can focus on it more and more. Someday I'll make my living doing this.
I’ve lived in a motorhome traveling the country, and oh, there are some stories I could tell. I was born and raised in the Chicago suburbs and I’m happily living in Denver, CO now, with no intention of moving anywhere else.
Writing has been a passion for most of my life. I've had to set it aside in the past, but so many circumstances have changed, and now I can focus on it more and more. Someday I'll make my living doing this.
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