Coming Soon: Mortal Reads
Who wants to hear a bedtime story?
Mortal Threads loves to work with like minds, creatives, and we've found a new venue of creative mind to collaborate with, authors; and they know no bound when it comes to creativity (or letting us use our own imagination to see their bigger picture). And who doesn’t love falling asleep to a good bedtime story?
Very soon Mortal Threads is going to read one to you a chapter at a time, from a new science-fiction/fantasy series: A Charming Nightmare.
Before we do this, let’s set the stage, giving you our version of a trailer…
What would you do if one morning you woke up and found that you were a relic, an artifact all that remained out of the movers, shakers, and candlestick makers? What would be your reaction to being advised that you are quite literally older than dirt? That is once you explain what dirt is (and yes you will have to explain what dirt actually is). Would you cry? I did, that’s a lie, I still am. Would you feel ill? I did (all over the shower floor). Would you instantly tuck your toes under the safety of a quilt knowing full well that the monsters from under the bed can’t get you if you’re under the shield of a down comforter? Don’t, they can still tickle those piggies (no matter how tight your cocoon is). Or would you do as I did? Get furious and start a big ol’ hissy fit sized war…
40,000 years after science, technology, and evolution expelled the human race all that is left are a handful of survivors (settlers, sorry now a day survivor is a slang derogatory term, sorry pink, guess we’ll have to find a new cause for you). These settlers float for decades more worried about primal instincts, lack of resources, diminishing ship space until they stumble upon Elpis. Their last hope as Pandora had named it eons ago. It leaves them fighting among the rest of the galaxies, alien species, themselves, as well as ailing bodies. Something more than conflict is killing them, and doing it with less mercy than anything in their wildest imaginations.
A literal leap of faith they dive head first into the past, clinging on anything original, they need a constant to study. They reached out grasping at humanities A list in minds, what was back was anything but. Aylin Morgan. No doctorates trailing behind her surname. If only they could stop her grieving and get her out of bed long enough to see the bigger picture, to see anything outside of her missing family, job, newspaper boy, banker, or manicurist. Perhaps if her collector had coddled her through the unfortunate turn of events instead of shackling her wrists, perhaps if he spoke instead of barked, listened instead if threatened, cooed instead of hit, perhaps then (most likely not) she would be more compliant. Maybe if they would smile at her Earth antics instead of trying to cure “quirkiness” she would be more cooperative.