To paraphrase Bobby Burns, the best laid schemes of writers and editors as well as “o’ Mice an’ Men gang aft agley.” I stated in my September 18 post (“Now available as a whole: Drinking Kubulis at the Dead Cat Café”) that Roger Owens “plans to have it available by the end of the year in paperback and as an e-book, for sale on Amazon.”
Well, Roger’s scheme did go agley. But he recovered in the new year and got the job done. The book is NOW available in paperback and as a Kindle book.
From the back cover of the paperback:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, living, dead, or anywhere in between, is purely a figment of your own sick, twisted imagination. You really ought to seek professional help for that. Except for the cat, of course; that skin on the cover really is the Dead Cat, if that’s any consolation to you.
On a strange night on an idyllic jungle island, an American veteran finds himself with a band of desperate islanders, on a raid to root out a vast and malevolent evil. An evil that has plagued the island with murders for decades, and everyone who knows either refuses to believe it or is too frightened to talk.
“Anibal saw the madman’s eyes flash back the way they had come, and his blood stopped in his veins. The American whispered in his ear like a lover. ‘Cock that chopper.’ Without hesitation, Anibal pulled the slide on his prized Russian rifle to chamber a round. He sent a low whistling call up the trail and soon the others arrived, led by Mattias Goodwill, who didn’t speak, only turned his head questioningly. Anibal Maraque pointed back the way they had come, then crossed himself. ‘Aglo Theo, Holy God, brother, they are behind us!’ ”
Roger Owens and his wife Cindy spent many months in the Jungle Paradise, the beautiful island of Dominica, enjoying the idyllic landscape, snorkeling in her crystal waters, and hiking to her gorgeous waterfalls. He gathered the information for this book from those happy times, now lost forever.
| Copyright © 2021 by Roger Owens & Moristotle |
Congratulations, Roger. I probably had less fun editing this book than you had writing it, but what’s new about that? Creating a story is joyful play; editing a story’s embodiment in text is a word-by-word plod. But when I got to the root of the story and learned what was afoot, my progress accelerated...I was hooked! Wow! WHAT a story! You make imminently readable a subject that I had never in my life IMAGINED I would read a WHOLE BOOK about!
ReplyDeleteCONGRATULATIONS! Oh? Did I already say that?
“He gathered the information for this book from those happy times, now lost forever.” A statement of both poignant longing and loss....It sums up the condition of humans and any other animal capable of memory and desire. I feel it daily.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, hope others will give it a go. Folks might wonder why those times might be lost forever; the confluence of a hurricane and a divorce became the Perfect Storm that destroyed Zen Gardens Dominica for good and all. Kirk, Ras' friend in the story and my best friend ever for real, turned several acres of hillside in the Jungle Paradise into what can only be described as a world-class botanical garden. Hurricane Maria destroyed much of the island's jungles and trees, and literally wiped Kirk's house away, and much of the garden with it. Three other cabanas and their house up in Calibishie were rebuilt, but Kirk's wife walked out on him and took a ride home from the US military, (which she hates like the plague) and he couldn't stand to start over after 15 years of work. Besides, that was their dream together-it would never be the same without her, obviously. Today Zen Gardens is nothing but 3 cabanas and a dasheen field. If you want to know what dasheen is, read my book!
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