Résultats de "Dan Fowler" dans Toutes les catégories

Poetry created for Astrid, my grandchild.

Within brings together the characters from the preceding novels and adds new ones in an explosive new novel filled with past, present, and future events all experienced within Jackson’s mind.

As Jackson Stafford continues his struggle to free himself from the Pandora Project, a group of gallant and noble rebels are joining forces to bring the Pandora Project and its Sister Location to its knees.

Remnant. The story, new in its conception, tells a tale of greed, lust, hatred, and power. All of the things the world is full of. We see it daily. But, in comparison, the story also has the qualities that we hope to find in ourselves: hope, love, trust, friendship, commitment, and resolve. These qualities, often an endangered collection, will stand the test of time. As in ages gone by, these attributes will be successful in accomplishing the end result.

The Epiphany has brought the three adventurers to the doorstep of La Tulipan, the mystic time traveler. He in turn has provided an explanation of some sort to help the three understand what has happened, what is happening, and what is going to happen as they step onto the ledge of the time portal. Gustavo, the undercover agent has followed the three courageous investigators to Trenton, NJ, on the south side of town where his surveillance vehicle has recorded everything that has transpired between Sarah, Deb, Matt, and La Tulipan.

The Jackson Stafford’s inner-room inhabitants, his personalities, will unsuspectingly unravel the secret behind the guise of the Pandora project within the mind of their host. A government cover-up is discovered by a civilian who has a direct link to the candidate and exposes the project to the host. An alien world’s projected consciousness is imprisoned deep within the Pandora project.

Uprising, the 13th novel in the Jackson Stafford series, has entered a critical stage where all of the rebellious employees of the Pandora Project are ready to revolt. Dr. Jennings has sought solace, the Watcher's Defector is finalizing his agreement with the NSA, Amanda, Dr. Brody, and Hank have successfully removed Claire Melbourne from the cryotube, and the senior armed guard has blackmailed Dr. Brody and is waiting for his money.

It’s been said many times that the living are only alive because of the dead. Because of past wars, past genocides, and past invasions that were used to “clean” the Earth, the world we’d left behind only remained “alive” because of the reoccurring pattern of life and death. We, those of us aboard what has become known as “The Last Ship”, will have nothing to brag about when we arrive at our foreordained “new world” light-years away from the blood-stained chronicles of our birth world.

The Planning stage of the worldwide propaganda machine took years to set up. Ed, better known in the business world as Mr. Edward Peterson, knew that if he could align his dream with the right funding organizations and gain their support, it would only take a few decades to subjugate his unsolicited members into believing anything. People are gullible. It was all about writing the programs and making them user-friendly so that they became a part of everyone's daily life, that secret goals could be met.

In a world overrun by wealth, greed, and people seeking to become even more controlling, GLOBAL HARVESTERS INTERNATIONAL began the HUMANA PROJECT to become an intriguing part throughout the world to assist with proportionately reducing homelessness and poverty. If the food supply can be controlled by a sect of the one percent who have limitless resources, then they have and can maintain limitless power.

When I found out the truth about the ‘hunt’, I could hardly believe it. It held me in a state of disbelief. Yet, having witnessed it myself firsthand, there was no way of denying that it wasn’t real. Not all of the men who went into the valley’s forest to hunt returned alive. It was a risk that each of us understood and accepted as a fact of life. It was, at least for me and my brothers, something that we’d wanted to do, no, something that was expected of us to complete before we became much older.

Alexander, Alex to his friends, sat on a wobbly wooden chair much too large for him. At his kitchen window, he spent time alone watching the raindrops slide slowly down the uneven window panes and fall onto the window sill. His childhood wrecked by turmoil and deprivation, was not unlike all of the other children in the coal camps that filled the hollers. The houses, nothing more than lap siding and rusting nails, held many dark secrets, many untold stories, and many hateful words.

The two friends continued their conversation, unaware that their seemingly innocent banter was about to take a dramatic turn. Unseen by them, a black sedan with tinted windows pulled up to the curb a few feet away. Two men in suits stepped out and approached, their eyes focused solely on Mark.