FF Banner

FF Banner
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Inception: A Dystopian Thriller (The Defiants Series Book 1) Now Available!

Happy Wednesday to you all! I am pleased to announce that Inception: The Defiants Series Book 1 is now available on Amazon! Available for your Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and in paperback! Fan of The Handmaid's Tale? You'll love this one - purchase it while you wait for new episodes!

Click here to purchase on Amazon!


It was a normal election year. There were two top candidates and the American people left with a choice to make - stay with the incumbent or elect ultraconservative Alfred Millstone. Elections have consequences, and Charlie Cooper and his live-in girlfriend, Annie Russell, learn this the hard way after millions of Americans elect Millstone as the new US president.

Millstone's dictator-like decrees soon fly in the face of the freedoms Charlie and Annie have always taken for granted - government officials begin to follow everyone, outrageous rules are implemented, and people's constitutional rights are violated. Those who do not follow the new rules and laws are labeled as DEFIANTS and are put on disciplinary levels. Each level has stricter consequences, including arrests and criminal sentences leading up to execution.

Food purchases are regulated, medical care is monitored, and people are quickly stripped of the freedoms they once knew. With the Millstone administration's power growing rapidly, freedom becomes a relic of the past. Charlie desperately struggles to save his family from a dark and deadly future he never imagined could be possible in the land of the free.

Captive: Book 2 is in the works and a preorder will be set up for it soon!

I hope you are all doing well and staying safe!
Happy reading!
J.R. Tate

I'm Back!

Hello to those of you who have not completely given up on me!

Sooo.... to explain where I've been for the past year....

I have been working on graduate school! I am obtaining my master's of education in guidance and counseling. I don't want to hand everyone lame excuses but I barely had time to sleep, much less leisurely write during that time (tack on the full time teaching job and I am surprised I made it through!) I MISSED writing! I think I just might be more excited about getting back to writing than I am about finishing my master's! Sad but true, though I am glad I finally buckled down and did it!

To those of you who still follow me, I promise more activity will commence as of TODAY! I've got two weeks left until graduation but my pressing assignments are complete and now I play the waiting game!

I'd love to hear from everyone and see what you have been up to in the past year! It's been a long and short year, all at the same time!

It's good to be home!

Kindly and respectfully,
J.R. Tate

Blizzard Warning Cover Reveal & 1st Chapter!

Happy Saturday, readers! I have two things to show you today. The first is the cover reveal for Blizzard Warning - The Damaged Climate Series Book 3! I might do a few more changes on it, but this is the general idea:


I am working hard to get it finished and am hoping for a January release. Now, the second thing I am showing you is the first chapter of Blizzard Warning. It hasn't gone through ANY edits, so just a warning that it is a very rough draft, but a preview for those who are sticking with the series and are awaiting the third book's release. 

Hope you enjoy!

Blizzard Warning Chapter One:

Does it look like rain?”
Ryan glanced to his right, shaking his head toward Steve. “No. Just virga showers again. Nature’s slap in the face.” He stood on the shovel, forcing it into the parched ground, putting as much weight on the metal as he could. It only sunk in a few inches before he hit the hard dirt just beneath the topsoil.
Virga showers,” Steve repeated, clicking his tongue. “If only we could figure out a way to get something up that high to pull that moisture down.”
It’s next to impossible but sure would be helpful,” Ryan replied. “How’s the corn look? We need to make a run down to the river to get some water?”
It couldn’t hurt to do a little. It’s growing tall considering that it’s not getting as much water as it normally requires.”
Ryan grabbed the wheelbarrow and pushed it through the rows of vegetation that were faring a tad better than he had anticipated. The cotton, though a very small crop, was popping out of the ground nicely, and the tomatoes, corn, and other vegetables were proving strong in the midst of the high temperatures, wind-burn, and dust storms that had continued to plague the area. None of the plants had produced blossoms yet, and with temperatures not getting below the nineties at night, it might be too hot for them to mature enough to make anything.
Striding down the hill, Ryan stopped at the bank of the river and cringed at the sight in front of him. With days without precipitation reaching a record, the water supply was definitely feeling the strain. He noticed a line where the water once was, the land above it yellow and brown from drought, below green from recent moisture. Soon it would transition to the ugly desert colors. The water still flowed and was deep, though not near as plentiful as it usually was this time of year. The lake it flowed into was in decent shape but in some areas stagnant, which meant a greater chance of catching something they might not be able to fix.
They filled the two wheelbarrows with water. Getting them back up to the pasture was challenging and Ryan tried hard not slosh any off the side. When they got to the top of the hill, both he and Steve took cupfuls and poured them down the rows of the corn – the ground sucked up the water like a sponge that had been sitting under a sink for years.
Are you still working on an irrigation system?” Steve asked as he patted some water on his neck.
Ryan had a good plan for a drip irrigation system powered by gravity. The hard part was gathering the materials to get it finished. He needed old piping, which he could find in wreckage around houses and near the fire station. He also needed something strong enough to make holes in the thick metal. If he could come across some PVC pipe that hadn’t been destroyed, it’d be perfect.
I’ve got it going but I need some pipe. I’m going to put holes in the sides and put the water through, running it downhill. It won’t evaporate as fast as pouring it directly on the ground and plants. I’m almost done. Just delayed due to lack of supplies. Chief Rayburn said he might have some stuff that was salvaged from the firehouse but there’s no rushing that man. There’s no sense of urgency with him lately.”
Steve didn’t reply and Ryan followed his gaze toward the mountains, his stomach sinking at the sight in the distance. It had been several weeks since they had been bothered by the group of looters and though Ryan knew they weren’t finished, he hoped he was wrong and they would be gone for good.
This can’t be happening,” Steve whispered.
They’re not going to let it go. They want revenge for killing one of their men.” Ryan dumped the rest of the water down the rows of plants. If they left it sitting, it’d evaporate and be a waste. “Let’s get back to the shelter. Maybe if they don’t see us, they won’t come. They might have something else on their mind.” It was wishful thinking but the only thinking Ryan would allow.
Running back to the cellar, Ryan motioned for everyone to gather. He noticed Ty and Cecilia playing on some old fire equipment that a few of the guys had made into a playground. Cecilia’s eyebrow arched and her shoulders slumped – she knew exactly what was happening. Picking up Ty, she joined the small group that had formed at the cellar door. There weren’t many survivors left but the people there were priceless. Ryan made note that Chief Rayburn wasn’t there, nor were a few of the other firefighters.
They had cut down on the rescue teams going out to find people – it had been months since the initial tornadoes had come through. Anyone missing was now deemed a casualty and they could no longer exhaust resources on trying to find them. Now they turned their focus to salvage missions in hopes to bring back beneficial supplies to help Harper Springs. Hopefully they would all make it back before the looters cornered them, wherever the men might be.
What is it, Ryan?” Cecilia scooted close to him. “I know that look. You’re worried about something.”
We saw them. The looters. They’re back in the area.” Ryan took a deep breath to try and gain composure. The short jog from the pasture felt like he had ran a marathon, the heat heavy on his shoulders as if he were carrying another person.
Are they coming this way?” Mindy chimed in, her small frame almost covered by people standing in front of her.
It’s hard to say. They were near the mountain range in the west. We didn’t give them a chance to spot us before we came back here.”
The fact that they have taken this long to come back and attack is a mystery,” someone yelled and Ryan agreed.
How are we on ammunition?” Ryan asked Steve.
With lack of gunpowder, we are unable to recycle a lot of the shell casings, but we do still have them gathered up.”
If we’re running low, the looters are bound to be running low too. Where would we be able to find gunpowder?” Ryan thought for a second, glancing out at the group of people who were waiting for a plan that Ryan didn’t have. “Didn’t Farmer Johnson keep his gun-making stuff in his cellar?” He turned to his father, hoping he’d know.
Darryl didn’t answer and Mindy interrupted. “We don’t have time for that, Ryan. If they’re on their way, they’ll be here within the hour. What are we gonna do?”
Everyone get down in the cellar. Gather up all of the guns and weapons you have. Even if it’s not really a weapon but can be used, get it. Don’t come up to ground-level unless we say. They know this is where we are living but if enough of us meet them with gunfire, they might think twice.” He opened the door and everyone went down inside. When had he become the leader? Chief Rayburn had seemed to step into that void, but he was missing in action.
Cecilia stopped at the edge of the stairs, clutching Ty close to her chest. “Where are you going? You’re not coming down there with us?”
No. I need to go scout. I need to make sure they’re coming this way before we completely panic.”
Didn’t we agree that we aren’t going to split up anymore?” She didn’t even attempt to prevent Ty from hearing. The child’s expression was blank – he was becoming numb to their new way of life. That was both good and bad.
We did but there’s no one else around to do this.” Ryan didn’t have time to argue. It was apparent by her creased brow and hard set glare that her patience was gone. He couldn’t fault her for that. This was no way to live.
Just make sure that while you’re off playing hero for everyone that you don’t forget that you have a son who needs his father. I’m not sure what you’re trying to prove but your luck will eventually run out, Ryan.” She took her mom’s arm and guided her down the stairs.
Her words stung and Ryan ducked his head. She didn’t mean it. Emotions were running high and he couldn’t take it to heart. He watched her go down the stairs until he couldn’t see her anymore. Darryl was next to go in and he clapped his hand against Ryan’s shoulder, shaking his head. He didn’t have to say anything – he spoke so much with just his body language. Everyone was tired, hungry, and ready for this to be over.
I won’t be gone long, Dad,” Ryan said. “I hope she doesn’t stay mad at me for this.”
She won’t. Get going. I’ll make sure she understands.”
Ryan hugged him and jogged to where they were keeping the horses. They had made corrals out of rope to keep the animals from running off. With the shifts in weather it was nothing short of a miracle that the horses hadn’t been lost in the middle of it all.
Steve was behind him and they rode north. There was an open valley where they could hide low to watch and hopefully not be spotted. The sweat fell down Ryan’s face, stinging his eyes. When he licked his lips, he could taste the salt on his skin. The sun beat down on them, baking them as they rode across the thirsty land.
Ryan’s mind raced with everything – Cecilia was frustrated. He tried to have empathy for her. How would he feel if it was her going off in every direction with no way of checking in on her safety? He would be less than amused at it so he couldn’t fault her for acting the way she was. But he also couldn’t just sit around when there was imminent danger all around them.
Steve waved toward him, pointing to the area where they planned to hide to spy on the group of misfits. There was an uprooted tree that was still big enough to tie the horses to. Crouching, Ryan squinted as he watched the group of looters on the horizon. It was the perfect location to spy but he still feared they could see them. With so many trees ripped up or dying from the drought, the view wasn’t hindered by them, making the visibility miles ahead.
Well, they’re not moving anymore. Which doesn’t mean anything.” Ryan observed, lying flat on his stomach, shielding his eyes. “They could just be resting their horses or setting up camp for the night. Or they could be playing mind games with us. They’re not stupid. They know we’re watching.”
Do you want to stay here all night to watch?”
I can’t do that. Cecilia would send out a search party and kill me herself if I did.”
Yeah, Mindy would probably do the same thing to me,” Steve replied, sipping from a canteen that he offered to Ryan.
Taking it, he gulped it, the cool water refreshing. “That’s getting serious, huh?” Ryan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave the canteen back to Steve.
As serious as it could be considering the pile of shit we’re in right now. Not exactly under conditions where I can romanticize with a lady.”
Ryan kept his eyes on the looters but the small talk was refreshing, like they weren’t scouting out a possible threat to their lives. Like he and Steve were just out on a camping trip for the weekend.
Well, we do need to replenish the population.” Ryan winked and arched his eyebrow, laughing. It felt good. It was an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time.
I should kick your ass for that, Ryan.”
Steve’s cheeks reddened and Ryan left it alone after that. He didn’t want to let his guard down and he had done his job of embarrassing the man. His mind quickly switched back to the current situation – two men in the group were on horses, both angled down the hill. Ryan was having a hard time seeing everything but they were riding away, a cloud of dust billowing up behind the horses, which meant they were traveling fast.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Ryan sat up and checked the revolver in his pocket. It was just a six shooter. Along with the large Bowie knife he was carrying, those were the only two decent weapons he had on him.
Steve, you happen to grab anything that might help us back at base camp?”
He slid a nine-milimeter handgun from the homemade holster on his hip. “Magazine is full – sixteen shots ready to go.”
Good. We’re gonna need them. Two men are on the move and I want to follow them, see where they’re going.”
Saddling up, they made a wide circle around the valley. They had to take the long way to avoid being spotted by the rest of the looters. It was tricky, keeping the two riders in their sights and steer clear of the large group. It would be convenient to have eyes in the backs of their heads. As conspicuous as Ryan felt they were being, it was probably not as incognito as he was hoping it’d be. He had to think about the chance that they would trap them. After all, he was involved in killing one of their head men, two if he wanted to get technical and consider Doug’s brother as an important member of their gang.
Ryan slowed his horse when he realized they had turned south. Harper Springs was east of their location. Holding his hand up, he halted Steve’s horse and the dust around them settled.
Something tells me we shouldn’t follow them just yet. They’re going away from town. The main band of them are staying west up near the mountains. And it’s getting dark. I don’t want to get cornered and I sure as hell don’t want to stay out here after the sun goes down. We didn’t bring any lanterns or flashlights. We could stumble right up on them and then what?”
I agree.”
We’ll just have to set up watch like we’ve been doing. Everyone should be back for the evening and we can all run short shifts so we can get some rest.”
Ryan checked all four directions one last time to make sure. Everything was quiet – almost too quiet, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. They were vulnerable and not prepared. Directing the horse east, they trotted back to town. There was no doubt in his mind that they had been spotted, which might not be such a bad thing. He wanted them to know he was watching, that they wouldn’t catch them off guard, and that they were preparing for whatever might come. He could at least fake it, even if they were in no way ready for an all out battle.
Cecilia met him at the top of the stairs, her eyes red and swollen. If she attempted to hide the fact that she had been crying, she wasn’t doing a good job. Reaching out, Ryan caressed her hand and to his surprise, she allowed it.
I figured I was the last person you’d want to talk to right now,” Ryan said, following her down the stairs to their far corner in the back of the cellar. Lanterns lit up the darkness and even their surplus of propane and lamp oil was running low. Soon, if they were down in the shelter, it’d be complete darkness, used only to sleep in. They’d have to find other ways above ground to shower and cook, and an area for medical to be able to perform surgeries and well-checks.
Cecilia sat on the edge of her cot, the springs squeaking from her weight. Glancing over at Ty, she pulled up the blanket around him and heaved a deep sigh.
Ryan, I’m sorry I blew up earlier. You didn’t deserve that.”
I kinda did, Cecilia.”
No, you’re doing what you need to do. I trust you. I lost my father. I don’t want to lose you too.”
Sitting beside her on the cot, Ryan pulled her in for a side hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. By the way her body quivered, he could tell she was crying, and when she buried her face in his chest, he felt the warmth of her tears soak through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. How could this be their reality now? It was the twenty-first century and they were having to live like cavemen.
I’m sorry if I keep making you worry. I just… I can’t sit around and wait for them to attack. I have to make sure we’re protected.”
She looked up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I know. Which is why I’m apologizing. It’s who you are and it’s why I love you. You’ve always taken care of us. I can’t expect you to not do it now.” Adjusting her weight, she turned to face him, intertwining her fingers in his. “What did y’all see? Are they coming?”
I don’t know,” Ryan replied. On the cot beside Ty, Cecilia’s mother was sound asleep. It was good to see her getting rest. For the first few nights back in Harper Springs, she cried all the time and hardly said anything.
You don’t know?” Cecilia cocked her head to the side.
A couple of guys split off from the group. Went south. It could be a diversion. They could be scoping out another place to loot. Hell, I don’t know. But we have to keep a watch on them. They know what we have. They know what they can come rip from us.” He rubbed his eyes and they burned under his lids. What he’d give for a hot shower, a cold beer, and a complete night’s rest. Those things would probably never happen again.
Do they outnumber us?”
Hard to say. I think we have more if you include the women and children. We just have to stay together.”
What’s the plan right now?”
Ryan leaned back against the dirt wall, his body sinking into it. If he could get his mind to shut down for two seconds, he’d be asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.
Steve is taking first watch. We’ll just have someone up there keeping an eye on things. Not sure how beneficial it’ll be, considering they can attack from any direction they want. It’s about the only thing we can do at the moment. I guess it’s for peace of mind.”
Right. It’s basically out of your hands, so how about you lay back and get some sleep? I’m sure if something goes down, you won’t sleep through it anyway.”
Ryan didn’t refute her idea and slid in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. It was the only time they got to be alone and he nuzzled her neck, kissing a trail up to her hair. As predicted, his physical exhaustion trumped his mental worry and he dozed off into a deep sleep.

It's Go Time, Folks!

Happy Tuesday! It's the last day of my long weekend and most importantly, the official release date of DROUGHT WARNING - THE DAMAGED CLIMATE SERIES BOOK 2! It's what we've all been waiting for, and it's here!


If you pre-ordered the book, it should be auto-synced to your Kindle today! If you read through Kindle Unlimited, you can now grab it for free and start reading! I appreciate all of you readers out there and I hope that you enjoy book 2 as much as you have enjoyed book 1! As always, please leave feedback - it helps me grow as a writer and it helps expose these books! Have a wonderful day!
Book Description:
Ryan Gibson has been reunited with his wife and son. Those lucky enough to have survived the tornadoes have made an old church cellar into a temporary refuge. The storms have tapered off, the temperatures are climbing, and the shift in the weather pattern is cause for concern. Everyone is wondering what Mother Nature has in store for them next. The unpredictable climate has everyone looking to the sky, all fearing that if they step away from the safe haven they have created, it will be an automatic death sentence. 

Their ultimate goal is to rebuild Harper Springs, but Ryan wonders how they are going to achieve their plans – with no precipitation falling and record-breaking heat, his worries are focused on the dwindling water supply and opportunity to grow crops. The surplus of non-perishable foods won’t last forever, pushing a sense of urgency to get the rebuilding going. 

With Cecilia’s parents still missing, Ryan sets off on a mission to get all of the family back together for good. Leaving Steve back in Harper Springs, he feels confident his new friend will take care of business as he and his father head toward Fox Lake.

They learn that tornadoes aren’t the worst thing they can encounter – blazing wildfires, massive dirt walls, and dangerous thieves and looters threaten their survival. They get their first real look at how widespread the turmoil is, revealing a post-apocalyptic wasteland they may never be able to come back from.

Drought Warning: Damaged Climate Series Book 2 COMING SOON!

I've got good news and I've got bad news. And I'll give you the bad news first! (drum roll)......

I took almost a 3 week hiatus from writing. If you've been following me since I've begun this journey of writing, all the way back to 2009, you'll know that this isn't that surprising. But I do have to admit that this has been the longest time I've gone without putting a pen to paper, or I guess in modern terminology, fingers to the keyboard.

Why, might you ask? Plain and simple - I've been discouraged. I put in so much time writing and lately, not much is happening in return. This blog post isn't a complaint fest so I'll not say much more about it. I'm going to leave the bad news off with this comment - please... PLEASE leave feedback for writers. It lets us know how we're doing. A review, an email, a tweet, a follow on Facebook or a comment - anything you can, even if it's just a few words. Even if you hated the book. And if you wanted a second (or third or fourth) book, the best way to inspire us to write faster is doing something stated above. I'll love you forever!

Now, if I haven't completely lost you and you haven't clicked on the X at the top of the screen, on to the good news. I actually sat down this morning and wrote. I wrote a lot! Almost 4,000 words in the span of about an hour and a half. I guess taking a break did the muse good. Or maybe it was the long run I took when I tried to get things sorted in my head. Who knows? But it put me over 40,000 words on Drought Warning: The Damaged Climate Series Book 2. I have had a few people ask me when to expect the release of that book and I'm now back to working hard on getting it out. Hopefully a late fall, early winter release. We will see how motivated I stay.

And now, just to hopefully get some more interest on this series, I'm going to post a small preview of what Book 2 has to offer. It is part of my (very) rough draft, so if you see typo's or problems, feel free to let me know, but also keep in mind that it hasn't been edited yet! Hope you enjoy!


The grass crackled under Ryan’s boots, making the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach even more prominent. With his father’s dry, unproductive cough another added worry, he feared getting to Fox Lake to find Cecilia’s parents now was impossible. The horses were gone, the sun seemed to be getting hotter with each second that passed, and their health was suffering for it. Doug continuously rambled on about things and Ryan had gotten good at blocking him out.
The periodic dust storms were also something that wasn’t helping the mood. The wind blew so hard that the dust would sting their skin, leaving them sand blown, their already vulnerable skin exposed for the damaging UV rays that were literally baking them.
When they were close to the river, Ryan would apply more mud as a homemade sunscreen but with as dry as the weather was, it would crumble and fall off after only thirty minutes. Their beards were helping protect their faces but their arms were exposed, making the situation ten times more miserable.
Ryan’s father had taken his advice and was using the towel as a mask. Respiratory issues were something you had to take seriously and with his father’s age, the smallest problem could turn into a major health disaster. Medical care was lacking and they had to treat it like they were back in the old west days when a small cut could mean a death sentence.
Y’all sure are quiet,” Doug said as he shielded his eyes from the sun.
Trying to conserve energy, Doug. Besides, what the hell is there to talk about?”
How far are we from Fox Lake?”
Ryan looked toward the horizon. What was once green pastures, lakes, and beautiful land was now a desert wasteland of torn up trees, yellow grass, and constant evaporation of the water supply where he once fished and camped.
Getting his bearings, he licked his lips and cringed when no moisture came from his tongue. Dehydration was setting in and he needed to refill his canteen. “We’re not far.”
Did you notice the smoke behind us?” Darryl lifted the towel from his face and pointed behind them.
Ryan hoped he was kidding, but it would be a crappy thing to do and his dad would never do that in times like this. Not wanting to look, he hoped whatever his father had noticed would go away if Ryan didn’t turn to observe it. Turning on his heel, his heart skipped a beat at the massive wall of smoke that appeared almost as large as the dust wall that had come through the day before. Orange flames licked the dry grasslands and trees, completely killing off anything that had been spared in the storms.
Holy shit.”
It was the only thing Ryan could think to say. Many emotions toyed with him, from them being chased by it, to the fear of Harper Springs possibly already falling victim to it. It was south of them in that direction and he had to hold out hope that it stayed north of town. If not, everything Steve and the men left behind had worked on would be demolished with no hope of rebuilding.
And even worse, what if they couldn’t escape? With his time on the fire department, he had learned that they can move fast and catch people off guard. Dry conditions ignite like gasoline and they were right in the middle of it. What if Cecilia and Ty were trapped or killed? If the flames didn’t get you, the smoke would suffocate you. A chill shot up his spine. Death was after them and each time they narrowly escaped it, something stronger came along, challenging them to the breaking point.
It has circled around us to the north!” Doug pointed in front of them, his eyes wide. He was always joking about something but at that moment, his eyes were as wide as saucers with a genuine look of fear written across his face.
Ryan’s eyes trailed along the rim of the fire and just as Doug has noticed, it was making a large ring around them. Smoke billowed upward toward the sun, shadowing the rays around them. It appeared as dark as night, though it was mid-afternoon. The one hundred plus degree temperatures were heightened from the flames and sweat poured from Ryan’s brow, trickling into his eyelashes and beard and to his lips, the salt of his own bodily fluid thick on his tongue.
We gotta get moving. Now!” Ryan’s voice shook as he tried to find an opening in the fire ring. “That way!” It was northeast and closing fast.
Their pace quickened to a run and his leg screamed out in pain. The tightness of the stitches tugged at his sore skin but he couldn’t succumb to it. If they ripped open it was a small price to pay to get away from the fire. Inspiration to get out and not burn to death kept him moving and each time he took a step, the pain got worse. He gritted his teeth, checked behind him and his father was right on his hip, matching him step for step. Doug was about fifty yards ahead, his healthy legs helping his sprint move right along.
The rugged land wasn’t making it easy. Uneven pastures, ruts, and turn-rows where farmers once plowed were hindering them going any faster. Ryan tried not to look at the ground too much but when he glanced to make sure he’d dodge a hole, he noticed the blood soaking into his jeans. It could’ve been an old stain from before but it was too red and fresh not to be current. The stitches had definitely come loose. With each step they took toward the small opening that the fire hadn’t ravished yet, it was like it was moving backward, away from them.
The heat from the sun combined with the flames was almost unbearable. Lack of water and good food made his legs cramp up. Losing blood wasn’t helping but he kept pushing. The thought of Cecilia and Ty was a constant inspiration to push through all of his body’s warnings to stop and lay down. Survival mode was on in full force, and though he had outrun the tornadoes, this was an all new challenge that was proving to get the best of him.
Ryan’s pace slowed. His father moved ahead of him and glanced over his shoulder, motioning for Ryan to hurry. He tried hard – his lungs burned so bad that they ached in his chest. As they got closer to the outer ring of the fire, the smoke got worse, making the visibility almost zero. Breathing became impossible and the edges of Ryan’s vision grew blurry and black. He couldn’t see Doug anymore and was about to lose sight of his father.
With each breath he took in, his body begged for a deeper breath, like he didn’t know how to breathe. He imagined this was how a fish felt out of the water, gasping and longing for energy to survive. He slowed down and his legs felt like noodles. Weak with limited energy, he tripped on something he couldn’t see and fell to the ground below him. His head hit hard and his already blurry vision went completely black. The last thing he heard was the crackling of the flames only yards away, eating everything in its path.

DROUGHT WARNING: THE DAMAGED CLIMATE SERIES BOOK 2 -- COMING SOON! 

New Ideas... New Ideas EVERYWHERE!

My last blog post was about digging out of a rut, and I'm proud to say that I am doing just that. I have a couple of new ideas I'm working on (at the same time, it all depends on my muse's mood)... I am going to write a sequel to The Search for Skylar and am also developing a new character and series. It is about a man who teaches in a prison.


This cover will likely change some by the time I finish the first book, but here is the flicker of brightness in the lightbulb within my head. I'm hoping to write at least three books about Ryan and am about 3k words in right now on the first book. I don't have a cover made for the second Charlie Wright book yet (haven't thought up a title yet), but I'm about 4k words into it right now, and Skylar's disappearance in the first book will seem like the least of his problems in the sequel!

For the first time in a while, I can safely say I'm excited about my current works in progress. Today I've got my coffee, my attention assist essential oil, and I plan to spend most of the day plugging away at both of these ideas! 

Happy Sunday! Spring is near!

J.R. 

Diggin' out of a Rut!


Well, folks, I'm stuck in a rut. And it pains me to admit it. But like with most writers, it happens... Call it writer's block... call it a momentary lapse in creative juices... call it what you will, but I will say this much - IT SUCKS! I am attempting to start a new idea and I think I have rewritten it about twenty  a thousand times! I'm going to buckle down today, dab on some attention assist essential oil, and get to work.

So, what does this little rant have to do with the picture posted above? It really paints a picture on what authors go through. I've been a writer since I was biting ankles, and only within the past six years have I developed the courage to publish and share my work. So much more comes with writing than just getting a manuscript finished - re-writes (as stated above), editing (the worst part of finishing a book for me), and not to mention the marketing! It is definitely a piece of our soul, a small glimpse into our minds, and it is nerve wracking opening it up for criticism to all of the world. Some days it feels extremely rewarding, and some days I wonder why the heck I keep doing it.

I continue to do what I do for readers, even if I only have a few at the moment. I try not to harp too much on the sales numbers - but believe me, it's like looking at a bad car wreck. You know it's bad, but you STILL have to look out of curiosity. I think the numbers are partly what has attributed to the deep rut that I'm stuck in. I feel like I'm writing to an empty room sometimes.

What I need to do is get back to basics - when I first started writing, it was Fanfiction for various TV shows. I did it for the FUN of it, since no money could be made off of it. Even back then, I thrived off of feedback and reviews. I need to remember how much of a blast it was. I didn't pull in a paycheck, but I loved every second of it. What is different with my original fiction? I still need feedback in reviews, but why am I focusing so much on sales numbers? I wish I knew the answer, but it is in my control. I need to migrate away from the reports and numbers. I need to only check them a few times a week, if any....

Long story short, it's time to dig out of this deep hole and get back to doing what I love. To those faithful fans who have stuck around, thank you! To those who have recently discovered me, thank you! And to those who randomly stumble across this blog and have not yet read one of my books, thank you! You are all why I continue to write. For the FUN of it. For the escape from real life. For the stress relief of forming a character in my head and watching him evolve into a huge force in my writing world.

Today I dig out of my rut! Today I start a new idea. Today I stop harping on sales numbers and move forward!

Have a wonderful Sunday!
J.R. 

Updates and Randomness

Yet another long break from updating my blog... yet another stupid excuse (I have no excuse).

With that being said... how's it going? (Taps on computer screen) Anyone out there? How's life treating you? How you getting through winter time (Ultimately my LEAST favorite season). I'm getting by.

I guess while I'm here, I'll announce my new release:

The Search for Skylar: A Charlie Wright Thriller (Book One)

Yes... that says book one. I have every intention of writing a second book about Charlie Wright and his shenanigans and have already started the idea. But first, you must go grab a copy of this one! It's in Kindle Unlimited for those of you who chuck out the $10 a month for unlimited reading. (The Netflix of Amazon)

I guess you need the link, right?

Click here to purchase The Search for Skylar (Book One)


Charlie Wright's life is plummeting into chaos. A recent divorce renders him helpless in an attempt to hold his family together. A weekend with his children is just what he needs to prove to his ex-wife Cassie that joint custody is the best option for everyone.

Tragedy strikes one Friday afternoon after school. Charlie's daughter Skylar goes missing. Every second that passes is a second wasted, and Charlie falls into a world of desperation and panic. Skylar has vanished into thin air - the only evidence that she was at his house is her shattered cell phone found in the alley.

With nothing to go on, the police label Charlie as a person of interest in the case. They harass and question him, basing their investigation around hearsay. His reputation quickly becomes tarnished, and he learns that the only way he'll find his daughter is if he takes matters into his own hands. With the help of his best friend Mary, he searches for Skylar, keeping hope that she is still alive.

The guilt Charlie feels for not protecting Skylar is his driving force, and he will stop at nothing to find out what happened to her.


Also, I've been busy putting several of my books into audio. Right now, Through Smoke is the only one available for purchase, but the others are in production and will hopefully be ready by this summer. 

So, busy times from me, and sadly, I've neglected my blog. For those who consistently read it, you know this is habitual. For those who have suddenly meandered here, strap in for a roller coaster ride.

60 days until spring. You know you're counting with me!

Happy Reading,
J.R. 

Audio Book Announcement!

I have to be honest and say that the idea of putting my books into audio has been a bit overwhelming. I've toyed with the idea since Through Smoke was published back in 2011, but I kept putting it off, using the excuse of "no time" to avoid messing with it. Recently, I have tossed around ways to promote and expose the books to different audiences - and the audio book world has gotten popular. I know of many people who prefer them for various reasons - listening on a long jog, during their commute to work, or while they are cleaning house - audio books give a person a chance to "read" while multitasking, because let's face it, we live in a time where it is customary to do more than one thing at a time.



So, the big announcement is this -

Both Through Smoke and Beckoning Souls are in production as we speak! I submitted them to ACX, had people audition with a small part of the book I provided, and I chose who I felt fit the voice of the book the most. On Wednesday I extended offers, and they were accepted. Chris Okawa of Cricket Sound LLC is taking on Through Smoke, and Allan Conley will be doing Beckoning Souls. They both will be released by the end of the year. Chris has agreed to stay on for Backfire and Fire Escape (I really feel it should be consistent) and Allan will be doing the sequel to Beckoning Souls (Wayward Souls, which will be released in the next few weeks).

It's been a busy time for J Tate Publications! With a new release coming out soon and audiobooks in production, I am excited to get more exposure on these books. Also, if you didn't notice, Beckoning Souls got a new cover that will go along more with the cover for Wayward Souls, seen below -



And always remember, feedback is helpful in more ways than you can imagine! A review on the product page helps get more eyes on the books, even if you only have time to leave a few words.

And as always, thanks to all of you readers! You breath life into the books and make this enjoyable for me!

Happy reading!

J.R.

Character Perspectives & Development



Character's perspectives are a part of writing that I probably enjoy the most. Creating a character, making that character yours, and completely making a personality for them is powerful. With that comes the perspective of the character and the range of knowledge they might possess. Before I completely lose you here, let me explain the main ideas of what this blog post will consist of today.

For example - Michael McGinnis is my main character in my Firefighter Heroes Trilogy - he has a wide array of wisdom when it comes to high rise saves, burning buildings, and intense situations. However, when it comes to speaking eloquently, let's face it, Mikey is lost. I don't claim to talk proper by any means (I have a Texas twang that I can't shake)... but I'm more likely to use bigger words than he would, though he is my character and I've developed him. I have a degree in psychology and addiction studies, but do my characters hold knowledge of the disease? - more than likely they don't.

I was chatting with a writing friend the other day and we were talking about regional terms that people might be familiar with. Here where I live, we have what we call caliche (caleechee) roads, which is just another term for gravel. She had never heard it called that. Since some of my characters are from areas where I've lived, their perspective of a gravel road might come out as caliche... and if they're from where she lives, they'd have no clue what the heck caliche is. Another question arose - a character of hers mentions cement and concrete in the same scene. And I might regret admitting this, but I honestly had no idea that cement was an ingredient to make concrete until someone had taken the time to point it out. I learned something new that day, but what if the character wasn't aware of it either? What if they were lying on the concrete and just thought cement was another term for it? I was guilty of thinking that - maybe the character is too, but the author knew exactly what they were doing.

Long story short - writing a character means we are limited in what they know. If we wrote someone who knew everything (or the same things we were experts in), they'd most likely be unlikable. Who loves a know it all? Keeping them limited also leaves room for growth and another thing I like to write - character development. Mikey has learned through the course of the three firefighter books. He's a different man from Through Smoke to Backfire, and Fire Escape because I started him off as having a limited perspective on what he knew.

To tie up my whole rambling - sometimes an author can come off ignorant due to the character they have thought up. If a character calls something wrong, take the perspective into consideration. How well educated is the character? Who is the person and where are they from? Does the character use "gonna and wanna" a lot in their dialogue? That doesn't mean the author is the same way - it just means the character might be different. Where is the book taking place? There are tons of different accents all over the world.

1st Chapter of Through Smoke

I recently heard that you get more engagement on your Twitter account if you post images, so today I have been manipulating some pictures in an attempt to do some promotions for my books. So far I have made one for Through Smoke, my first book in my Firefighter Heroes Trilogy.

I use: www.canva.com


I'm having a good time coming up with color schemes and quotes to help give the book some attention, and in case anyone was interested, the book is still FREE on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Amazon. 

And here is a special gift for all of you who have stopped by my blog today... I'm including the first chapter of Through Smoke right here for you to check out! 

The books in the trilogy are:
Through Smoke: Book One
Backfire: Book Two
Fire Escape: Book Three
All are available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Apple! 

Chapter One

Michael McGinnis thrived in intense situations. In hectic conditions split second decisions were automatic to him.  He was more comfortable in a blazing inferno than in the confines of his own home. Today would be no different.  Pulling up to the fire, a shimmy of excitement coursed through him, followed by brief pangs of fear that he forced aside. He opened and closed his fists, feeling the sweat forming on his palms. His breathing quickened as he studied the building and what floors the fire was already eating away.
Every fire had to be treated as routine, regardless of magnitude or caliber. His first goal was to find out if anyone was still inside. He was part of search and rescue and was first to go in if need be. His eyes scanned the crowd.  There were several kids standing near their parents, older couples and people all alone, all wide eyed and in shock over their misfortune. 
He had been on the job for eleven years.  Eleven years of interrupted sleep and unfinished meals.  Eleven years of false alarms and frequent callers.  Eleven years of soot and flames. He wouldn’t have traded it for anything else.  Even if the job had its boring moments, the one call where he could help someone made it rewarding.
He worked for the best fire department in the best city. FDNY. As the motto on the fire engine read, “New York’s Finest.”  He patted the logo painted on the passenger door every time he got in the rig. It was like his ritual.  After everything he and his friends had endured, he couldn’t help but become a little superstitious.
 “I think there’s still some people up on the second floor!” A middle aged woman approached their captain, her voice frantic. 
“Toward what end of the building?” Michael intervened in the conversation, attempting to save as much time as he could. By the look of the fire, it was already spread across the entire complex. 
“It was apartment two twenty-five, near the back end. I saw them come home this evening and they aren’t out here now. I’m almost sure of it.”
Michael headed toward the door but felt his captain’s hand grasp his arm.  “McGinnis, hold on a second. I don’t want you going in alone. We’ve got a probationary fireman that can go with you and we’re getting a hose ready.”
“Sir, we don’t have time. Looks like the second floor is the worst.”
“All the more reason for you to wait.”
Michael could feel the heat blaring off of the structure. Hesitating, he looked at the captain and back at the orange flames that lit up the street like it was daytime.  “I’m going in. I got my radio, I’ll let you guys know of my every move.”  He didn’t allow his superior time to respond and headed in, applying his mask. 
Heat overtook his senses. He had to squint as he entered the threshold of the inferno.  He searched for a way up and luckily there was a staircase made out of cement that was safe to stand on.  He had to crawl, ducking under fallen debris and flame engulfed pieces of wood.  The roar of the fire was so loud that when he yelled out for any civilians he could barely hear his own voice. 
“Is anybody up here?” Pausing, he waited for a response but could only hear the crackling of the wood as the fire ate it away.  “Yell out if you can hear me! FDNY!”
“Up here!”
The voice was high pitched and coming from behind the door the lady had said.  Michael crawled to it and ran his hand up and down the frame to make sure it was safe to kick in.  The knob was locked. 
“Stay where you are and keep talking so I can find you!”
Michael was able to kick in the door after a few attempts.  Smoke lingered in front of him making the visibility next to impossible to see in.  Getting on his hands and knees, he pushed his way across the floor.  Gut instinct was to look in the bathroom. Most victims seemed to always be in their bathtubs.  He went around the corner and came across two kids in the shower stall, both pushed up against the tile.  The mother was crouched near the toilet, tears leaving trails through the soot that gathered on her face.
“Oh thank God!” She threw her hands in the air as if she were rejoicing. 
“Can all of you walk?”
The oldest girl nodded but her eyes shot downcast to the toddler.  “Not her.”
Michael knelt down and saw that the younger child was unresponsive.  He scooped her up in his arms.  “You two follow me. Make sure you stay with me and I’ll get you out of here.”
Both nodded.  The trip back downstairs seemed like an eternity.  Every couple of seconds Michael would glance back to make sure he wasn’t going too fast for them.  He wasn’t sure if his imagination was playing tricks on him but it felt like the flames were getting hotter with each second.  The building creaked and moaned and he knew the frame wouldn’t hold much longer.  He tried to quicken the pace but they both fell behind and he had to stop and go back.  The young girl he was carrying still lay limp. If they didn’t get out soon it wouldn’t matter. They would all be crushed from the cave in.
It had dawned on him that he wasn’t keeping in touch with his captain like he had promised. If he tried to queue the radio he would end up dropping the child.  His legs felt like mush as they made it to the bottom story.  The exit was just a few yards away and he gritted his teeth and fought through the pain to get there.  Letting out a low groan, Michael pushed through the door and landed out on the concrete, appreciating the cold night air.  A couple of firefighters came to aid in taking the girl to the ambulance.  He watched as they guided the mother and the older kid to be checked out as well.
Judging by his captain’s body language he was going to be in for an ear full.  Ignoring everyone, he made his way to the ambulance where they took the family.  The toddler was still unresponsive as they put her on the gurney.  It was a couple of medics he knew and probably two of the best New York had.  Eva Crisante placed a mask over the child’s face and began CPR.  Michael stood back, his heart pounding quicker than when they were in the building.  He had lost victims over his time with the department and while all of them were hard to get over, a child seemed to stick with him a lot longer.
“C’mon Michael, let’s step back.  You need to be checked out by the medics.”  Darryl tried to pull Michael away but he jerked his arm out of Darryl’s grasp. 
“It’ll be okay, let’s go. I’m fine.”
Eva looked up from her work and shot Michael a quick glance.  Her brow creased with concentration and a small smile parted her lips, almost as if she were trying to reassure Michael.  She reached for the back doors and closed them as the ambulance departed from the scene.  Michael followed for a few steps, watching as it disappeared down the block, the siren echoing off of the high rises of the neighborhood.
“McGinnis, I don’t think there’s a need to lecture you about what you did.” Captain Rooker stood near the engine, his arms folded over his chest.  Thankfully the fire was pretty much contained and they just needed to cover the secondary search.  “Good job getting that family out.”  He patted Michael on the shoulder.  “I think you’re just trying to give me a heart attack.”
“Don’t pat me on the back yet, I don’t know if that little girl’s gonna make it.”  Michael adjusted his hat and looked back at the building that was now dripping with water.  A few embers still flickered in some spots but the fire was now controlled.  “We were too late.”
Captain Rooker shook his head. “You don’t know that, McGinnis.  Go get the search done so we can get outta here.”

   The rest of the night sleep was impossible. Michael paced back and forth, waiting on a call from the paramedics or the hospital about the little girl.  Eva had his cell phone number and she knew he liked to hear the outcome, but the more time passed the more he worried. 
He glanced up at the clock.  It was almost seven.  His shift would be over then and he thought about going to the hospital to find out on his own if need be.  Everyone else finally started to wake up.  Michael tried to make it look like he had just gotten up too and sat at the dining room table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper.  He nodded at a few of the guys, acknowledging them but keeping his head ducked to avoid conversation.
Captain Rooker came out of his office and sat down adjacent to him.  “Go ahead and go home.  Shift is over in about fifteen.”  He paused and sipped down some coffee. “I know you didn’t go back to sleep when we got back.  Get some rest and come back tomorrow ready to go.”
Michael wasn’t in the mood to argue so he finished his coffee and folded the paper, leaving it for whoever else wanted to read it.  He grabbed his duffel bag from his locker and made his way downstairs.  He usually walked back to his apartment. It was only two blocks over on Forty Fourth Street. There was no access to a subway that went that short of a distance and he didn’t own a car.  It was good exercise. 
He didn’t notice Eva standing down in the garage near the trucks.  “Hey Michael.” She waved her hand and twirled a set of keys on her finger.  Her long hair was loosely pulled back in a ponytail.  By the looks of things she had been up all night as well. 
“Hey Eva, what’s up?” He walked toward her. “Any news on that girl?”
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head.  “She’s gonna be okay.  Had a lot of smoke inhalation and a few minor burns but they said she’ll make a full recovery.” She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.  “They said any longer and she probably wouldn’t have survived.  That was good work, Michael.”
He could feel his cheeks warm up.  “Nah, I just got her out. You guys are the ones who…”
“Don’t be so modest. Who else would’ve gone in that building? Be proud. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  She turned and walked up the stairs before he could respond. 
The cool morning air was refreshing.  It was mid April and in New York it still tended to be pretty nippy, especially in the morning.  Michael pulled his jacket tight around him, ducking his head away from the wind.  The traffic was already thick down forty second. As he walked he moved faster than the cars that were lined up at the light.  It was times like this that he enjoyed the fact that he didn’t have a vehicle. 
He stood on the stoop of his apartment and stared down the street, nodding at Old Man Carlisle, a seventy-eight year old man that always sat out on the sidewalk in a lawn chair at that time of day.  “Hey Mikey, how was work?”  He puffed on a cigar and looked at Michael out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh you know.” Michael never gave him a straight answer and Mr. Carlisle was always content with that.  It was small talk at its best but he got used to seeing the guy out by the stoop.  “You better stop smoking those, Carlisle, they’ll kill you.” He shot the old man a smile.  Another routine was razzing him about his tobacco usage. 
“Yeah, well so will a five alarm fire, Mikey. Think about it.” Carlisle winked and extinguished the cigar with the heel of his worn boot.
Before Michael went inside he contemplated going down to the hospital where they took the girl from the fire but thought it was probably best not to.  Eva had said she was in good hands and she wasn’t one to lie to him about the well being of one of his victims.
“I’ll see you around Old Man.” Michael opened the entrance and walked the five flights of stairs to his apartment.  He liked taking the stairs over the elevator. While it wasn’t a strenuous workout it still got his pulse going. 
He sat down on the couch and turned the TV on.  Nothing was on but some morning talk shows and cartoons.  Flipping through, he stopped on an old Bugs Bunny episode.  Yawning, he stretched out and relaxed into the cushion, allowing his body to drift off into a deep sleep.

_____________________________________________________________________________
Jolting from sleep, Michael could have sworn he heard a loud bang on his door.  He searched for his cell phone and found it on the floor under his coffee table.  It was two forty-five.  He didn’t intend on sleeping that long.  Another loud knock echoed.  It took him a second to gain his composure.
He walked to the door and peered through the peephole, rolling his eyes at the sight of who it was.  It was Casey, his younger brother.  Any time he showed up on Michael’s doorstep it meant he wanted something.  Opening the door, he frowned at him, already expecting the same act Casey always pulled with him.
“Big bro! Did I wake you?” Casey opened his arms for a hug but Michael turned his back, inviting him in. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was raspy and he coughed to clear it.
Casey pretended to pout but that quickly passed as he edged toward the kitchen.  He picked up an apple off of the counter and ran it across his sleeve before he took a bite.  “Tough love there, Mikey! Hadn’t seen you in awhile, figured I’d stop by and say hey.”
Michael sat at the kitchen table.  Casey resembled him in a way. They were about the same height; around six foot one with dark hair, but Casey was rail thin, more than likely from the years of drug use. 
“Can the act, Casey.  It’s always the same thing when you come around.” Michael loved his brother but he had been taken advantage of one too many times.  He had tried his hardest to get Casey on the straight and narrow but it was a lost cause.  He felt hypocritical when he tried.  He was a troublemaker as a teenager and didn’t feel right preaching to him about redeeming himself.
Casey swallowed a piece of apple and Michael could hear it from across the kitchen.  “I know.” Casey snapped his fingers and paced.  “I woke you up. Good God you’re always an asshole when you’ve been woken up. Want me to make you some coffee?”
Michael ran his hands through his hair as he grew frustrated. “What did you get yourself into this time?”
Casey’s playful expression changed, now more serious.  “I was just wondering if I could borrow like fifty bucks.  I’ve been living off of those damn frozen dinners. I need a change.”
Michael scoffed and leaned back in the chair.  He didn’t need this right now, not after the night he had.  “And what happened to the job you had down at that bodega on Fifth Avenue?”
“You know as well as I do that it doesn’t pay shit. C’mon, Mikey, just fifty bucks. You’re the big time firefighter, I know you can handle it.”
“You’re a moron, you know that?” Michael stood up and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and refused to offer Casey one.  He reached in his back pocket and grabbed his wallet.  “Hopefully twenty is enough for now cause that’s all I got.” He extended the crisp bill to him. Before Casey could grab it, Michael pulled it away. “You still got that job?”
Casey nodded and tossed the apple core into the trash. “Of course I do.”
“You better not be lying, you know I can find out. And don’t burn that bridge, I got you that job.”
Casey rolled his eyes and reached out for the money. “I still got the job. Thanks bro, I owe you.”
Michael let out a sarcastic laugh and released the twenty.  “You’re damn right you do. I better not find out you spent that on drugs. You know how word gets around here in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“I need food more than drugs right now. Thanks, man.” 
Michael walked him to the door knowing that he had just been lied to. “Stay out of trouble. See you next time you need something.” 
Before Casey could say anything, he shut the door and sat back down on the couch, his mind running a mile a minute.  He took another swig of his beer and peeled at the label. How could Casey lie straight to his face, his own brother, his flesh and blood? And how come he always gave in to him despite the fact that he knew the money was going to something illegal?  He had a weak spot for Casey. Since they were kids he always protected him. From school fights to hiding things from their mother, he had Casey’s back.
In all reality, Michael felt guilty for Casey’s criminal behavior.  His younger brother always followed him and did everything he did.  At one point Michael was headed in the same direction.  Casey gladly followed suit. The only problem was Casey never found his way back to the good side. 
He jumped when he heard his cell phone ringing, laughing to himself about how jumpy he was acting. Eva’s name flashed across the screen.  Smiling, he opened the face of the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Michael, what’re you doing?” Her voice sounded cheery.
“Just woke up. How’re you?” He finished the last few sips of his beer and scooted it across the top of his table.
“Good, thanks. A few of us are going down to Perry’s Bar for some drinks. Was seeing if you wanted to come along?”
Michael looked up at the ceiling and at first was going to decline but decided getting out of the house might help his mood. “Sure, that sounds like fun.”
“Okay, we’re gonna head over there about eightish or so. I’ll see ya then!”
“Sounds good.” He closed his phone and stared at the TV. He needed something to get his mind off of his brother and a few pool games at Perry’s just might do the trick.