Your New Reviews and Some of Mine. You gave me, Andy Zach, some reviews of my books. And I just reviewed some books in the past month, too. So, let’s share.
I posted my most recent review the other day on Goodreads:
Your New Reviews and Some of Mine – The Eye of the World
I first read this book in 1994, soon after it came out. I bought it because of the cover and the blurb. I thought it might be a clever knock-off of the Lord of the Rings.
Author Robert Jordan used some elements of that epic in the beginning of his story, but it is nothing like the Lord of the Rings–but it is still very good epic fantasy.
The book begins in a backwater town of Two Rivers, famous for sheep and tabac. Rand al’Thor, a sheepherder, and his two friends, Perrin ay’Barra, a blacksmith, and Mat Cauthon, a son of a horsetrader, have all been shadowed by a man in black, on a black horse. He then disappears.
That launches them into an adventure where they must flee their village for their safety and the village’s. But safety is the last thing they find.
In this fantasy world, time moves in a cycle, from Age to Age, repeating the same events from age to age. The cycle is dominated by the Dark One, imprisoned in his lair, and the Dragon, the hero for good. Creation is a pageant for the battle between good and evil to play out. Key personalities, like the Dragon, are reborn from Age to Age.
How the Dark One and the Dragon fit into these three boys’ lives is what this book is about.
Summary Blurb
The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow.
Moiraine Damodred arrives in Emond’s Field on a quest to find the one prophesized to stand against The Dark One, a malicious entity sowing the seeds of chaos and destruction. When a vicious band of half-men, half beasts invade the village seeking their master’s enemy, Moiraine persuades Rand al’Thor and his friends to leave their home and enter a larger unimaginable world filled with dangers waiting in the shadows and in the light.
My Undead Mother-in-law by Andy Zach is a horror comedy that fully embraces its ridiculous premise and runs with it.
Diane Newby is technically a zombie, but that hasn’t stopped her from hosting church bake sales or cooking Sunday dinner. What has changed is her temper. With glowing red eyes, super strength, and zero patience for disrespect, she doesn’t take kindly to being treated like anything less than normal even if “normal” now includes smashing through walls when she’s annoyed.
As society struggles to adjust to the existence of zombies, a powerful criminal mastermind sees an opportunity to control them. The only problem? Zombies like Diane don’t exactly enjoy being controlled. What follows is chaos, divided loyalties, and plenty of over the top mayhem.
If you like your horror mixed heavily with satire and absurd humor, My Undead Mother-in-law delivers action, laughs, and just enough undead madness to keep things entertaining.
My mother-in-law’s a zombie. And she has anger-management issues.
My mother-in-law, Diane Newby, zombified by accident. She still volunteers at her church bake sales and cooks pot roast for her daughter and son-in-law, Ron Yardley. What ticks her off is when people don’t treat her like a normal human being—with glowing red eyes and super strength and speed. And if she doesn’t get her own way, look out. She explodes and leaves broken plaster and body parts in her wake. Nothing stops her: not brick walls, the federal government, or middle-aged spread.
But the world’s most powerful criminal plans to control zombies. His only problem with zombies is that they have way too much free will. He has a solution for that. But will it work with Diane Newby?
The world divides into pro-zombie and anti-zombie factions. Battles break out everywhere. Which side will you take? Who will live and who will die?
You might not survive this book. But at least you’ll die laughing.
What Would You Do With An Undead Mother-in-law? That is if your mother-in-law had super strength and speed and regenerated from any injury? And had glowing red eyes to boot? In my novel My Undead Mother-in-law. that’s Diane Newby. Find out what her son-in-law Ron Yardly thinks. Read the excerpt below. My book is .99 from January 18th until the 25th.Get your copy by clicking here.
My Undead Mother-in-law Chapter 1 Icon
As we pulled up in Karen’s parents’ drive, I was reassured by the sheer normality of their three-bedroom suburban home: green yard partially covered with snow, evergreen bushes, two-car garage. There was no sign zombies lived there. Of course, what sign could I expect? A skull and crossbones and Beware of Zombies? Perhaps a biohazard sign?
Diane greeted us at the door. “Hello, my love!” She hugged Karen.
Karen barely flinched as she looked into her mother’s bright-red eyes. But she grunted “Ugh!” at the force of her embrace.
“Ease up, Mom.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Hello, Mom,” I said as I hugged her as hard I as could.
She hugged me back twice as hard.
“Ugh,” I grunted too.
Diane still had blond-highlighted brown hair, as she did when I first met her. She’d gained a pound or two though. She smelled of the body talc White Linen. I recognized it because Karen and I bought it for her birthday last year, pre-zombie. And she still wore her cat-eye reading glasses on a chain around her neck.
What Would You Do With My Undead Mother-in-law, Part 2
Diane Newby, in her natural environment.
Diane seated us on the living room sofa. “Supper’s on. I have a nice pot roast for us tonight. Donnie and Maggie should be here soon. George!” she called. “The kids are here!”
A heavy tread down the stairs announced George Newby. His eyes shone red too, but while Diane was built like a middle-aged woman, George was a classic wide-body. His shoulders filled the stairway. You’d think he was a truck driver or a lineman rather than an accountant.
“Hi, Karen. Hi, Ron,” he rumbled. He hugged his daughter, as if he held a baby bird, and shook my hand without hurting me in his bratwurst fingers. His bright-red eyes looked squarely into mine.
“I’m so glad you made the trip. You can help us put to rest the ugly rumors that people with zombiism aren’t human. It’s just a disease. It’s not even harmful,” Diane enthused as she sat across from us. George sat next to her in a brown leather recliner.
“Mom, we love you. You don’t have to convince us,” I said.
“Of course not. I know that. It’s just that we’ve had people talking behind our backs at church and the public health officials trying to pressure us to get the treatment to eliminate the disease.”
“Don’t you want to get rid of it? I think the antibiotics for it are safe and effective.”
“You’d think so, but we actually have never felt better in our lives! I have more energy than ever, and so does George—right, George?”
“Yup.”
“My arthritic aches and pains have completely disappeared, and George’s old football knee injury is all better too.”
What Would You Do With My Undead Mother-in-law and the Villain, Vik Staskas
Vik Staskas absently stroked his long glossy-black hair as he skimmed through the day’s news on his wall-mounted monitor from his five-hundred-foot superyacht. He noted the surge in zombie cures and sought to tap into the money. He hired operatives to infiltrate the Midley Beacon and SPEwZ Inc., the business arm of the famous charitable zombie organization. The possibility of failure didn’t occur to him. He succeeded in everything he tried: a street thief as an orphan in Belgrade; a college student in Paris, where he got his PhD in robotics; and taking over European organized crime without the nominal bosses knowing he existed. He was ready to take over the US.
He developed remote-controlled cyborg animals and insects. He used them to spy, to infiltrate, to conquer, to steal, to kill. They were unstoppable. He planned his first hijacking of a zombie blood air shipment from Gary, Indiana. He could think of several practical uses for cyborg-controlled zombies in his crime empire. As they were, zombies had too much free will for his taste. He chuckled. Even zombies didn’t stand a chance against him.
When I started to read this book, I was leery. As far as I know, I’m less interested in zombies than anyone on the planet. How could I give a reasonable review? Turns out, it wasn’t hard at all. I’ve said before and it turned out to be true here that, if you have a ridiculous premise that’s hard to swallow, run with it, normalize it, and readers /viewers will eventually accept. And it worked.
The original premise of cognizant, virtually indestructible zombies was lobbed and backed until I was a believer, actively rooting for zombies. Plenty of (bloodier than average) action, some smiling, if not guffaw humor, a nice fulfilling story arc in an easy readable length made for a fun book (if bloody action doesn’t bother you) with charm that didn’t take itself to seriously but still capable of many a tender and touching moments.
I’m glad my prejudice didn’t keep me from enjoying this out-of-the-common-way story.
Zombie corgi in Scotland from ‘My Undead Mother-in-law’
I am a huge zombie fan, I had thought the genre had worked itself out for a while and then I read this book. I think I have been scarred for life! I foresee months if not years of counseling in my future.
Not everyone is going to like every book, you know what that’s all right. Maybe they don’t understand the book. If you want to envision hordes of undead animals attacking the evil… sorry I don’t do spoilers. Think of a slightly sardonic look on life and you will be getting close.
While reading this book I was reminded of a visionary work of Cinema, “Polterygiest: Night of the Chicken Dead” a great movie by Troma Entertainment. Do yourself a favor check out this book.
My Undead Mother-in-law cover. Click to get yours.
Any newsletter subscriber gets free audiobook codes–as long as they last. Click here to get yours.Don’t wait until they’re gone!
Do you want an autographed book? I’ll mail it directly to you with free shipping and I pay the taxes! Click here to get yours. My shipping may not be the same day, but at least it’s free–for you.
Ten Books, Ten Chapters Free, all for Advent 20. I’m giving a gift daily. These books were from the previous ten days. Today, you get the gift of convenience. All the books are in one spot for you.
He felt different. More energetic, more alive. He bred with female after female in his flock without tiring. The tom stayed awake through the night. He feared no predator.
Then a turkey hunter shot him.
The setting sun overlooked a crisp, clear evening in early November. South of Bartonville, Illinois, a farmer had leased his wood lot to two turkey hunters. Big and burly in their bulky camouflaged outfits, they had just bagged one.
“Good shot, Pete!”
“He’s a big ‘un!”
Pete and Bob walked up to the tom turkey, bleeding on the cold ground. The rest of the flock had scattered into the woods. He had exceptionally good plumage and weighed perhaps twenty pounds. Pete reached down and picked him up by the neck.
“He weighs at least twenty-five pounds!”
Then the turkey’s eyes opened—and gleamed red. He kicked with his spurs and pecked savagely at Pete’s arms and eyes. Dozens of his hens attacked the men from behind.
“Gobble! Gobble!”
He felt different. More energetic, more alive. He had no memory of being shot, but a certain turkey satisfaction at killing his killers. The tom also enjoyed pecking at their dead meat. He had always liked frogs, but this meat tasted better. He led his flock down the road in search of more predators to eat.
“Sam, you’re fired.” Lisa’s green eyes met Sam’s brown ones.
“What? Lisa, you and I have worked together at the Midley Beacon for ten years! And we’ve known each other for fifteen! And we’ve been married almost two months!” Sam broke eye contact, stood up from his desk, and paced about their small office.
“Sorry, Sam. Romance has to take a backseat to finances. Ever since the bottom dropped out of the zombie turkey news market since the first of the year, the Midley Beacon hasn’t made enough to pay your salary.”
“But that’s our salary. We share and share alike.”
“We can still live on my salary. And you can apply for unemployment now that you’re fired.”
“But what’ll I do all day? I can only play Fortnite for so long.”
“What did you do before I hired you ten years ago? What did you do while I was in college?”
“Uh, mow lawns. Handyman repair. Stuff like that. But I’m a grown man now. I want more.”
“Hmm, you are a decent reporter.”
“Thanks, Lisa. That’s high praise coming from you.”
“Well, it’s the truth. You’ve grown from a crappy reporter, like ninety-nine percent of all reporters, to well above average. I did lay off everyone else on the staff before you, you know.”
Sam’s eyes misted. “Aw, you’re making me feel warm and mushy.”
“You know I love your mother. But your mother’s a zombie. Who wants to see one zombie, let alone four of them?”
“Now that’s not fair. Mom and Dad have adjusted to their zombiism very well. Mom still volunteers at church and bakes cookies and pies for the bake sales. Dad still works as an accountant at GM. There’s nothing to worry about!”
“That covers Diane and George. I know them. I guess I’m ready for them. What about your brother and this new girlfriend of his? I don’t think Don has said two whole sentences to me since I’ve known him!”
“He’d never get a word in edgewise with you, Ron. You said it yourself—you’ve had diarrhea of the mouth since you were born. He and his friend Maggie will be fine.”
“Whatever you say, Karen.” I knew when to surrender. I focused my eyes on the Indiana turnpike ahead.
“Hmmph!”
I glanced at Karen while I drove. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, and she looked out the window, away from me. Trying to make peace, I said, “I thought we dodged a bullet when the zombie turkey plague just missed Gary, Indiana. I never dreamt this zombie thing would hit our own family.” I kept my tone neutral
“So far it hasn’t hit us hard. Life goes on as usual.”
Great! At least she was still talking to me. “As great as it can with glowing red eyes,” I said with a big grin.
“Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about how hard life would be like that.”
Dirac sighed with relief when the US flag came down, and the surrender flag went up on the mast of the titanic luxury yacht. He didn’t mind firing rounds from his AK-47 over their heads, but he hated killing people. He knew they were only infidels, but they were still people.
Chapter 1 icon of Paranormal Privateers
Inhaling the salted breeze, he grinned back at Muhammed. He cheered and laughed in his seat behind the M2 machine gun in the bow of the boat they used to patrol the coasts and fishing waters of Somalia. The sun gleamed off his white teeth.
“Look, Dirac!” he said. “They’re stopping!”
True enough. The bow wave ceased as he watched. A pod of dolphins ended their sporting on the wave and submerged. The gleaming white yacht loomed above them. What were they doing in the fishing waters of Somalia? He couldn’t imagine the wealth on board. Enough for their whole village to eat well for a year!
Their supreme leader, Omar Ogala, organized Somali fishermen and former coast guard sailors to patrol their fishing waters. He ordered them to capture any fishing or cargo vessels they spotted. He told them the Americans and Europeans no longer cared about Somalia with the other crises around the world and they could defend their coasts from foreign competition—and dumpers. Many foreign nations, knowing Somalia’s military weakness, sent cargo ships full of pollutants and dumped them into their waters.
Dirac never expected to see a luxury ship here. It was as big as a cruise liner, but apparently a private yacht. He’d seen one once before when an Arab sheik visited Mogadishu. This one was three times the size! The owner would pay big to get it back. Maybe even a billion dollars? He couldn’t imagine that much money, and he was good with numbers. Let’s see: fourteen million people lived in Somalia. Divide a billion dollars among them would give each about seventy dollars. Unbelievable. A family of five could live comfortably for a year on that!
Now, what was he going to do? His boss just told him to double the productivity of Vegan Inc.’s pickle strain they used for their Kilwowski Pickle brand. That was completely impossible.
But keeping his job required it. Bryce was the low man on the genetic engineering totem pole at Vegan Inc., the last one hired and the first one to be fired if another recession hit.
He couldn’t think. He couldn’t face this. So he cruised the internet.
“The origin of Zombie turkeys? I didn’t know they’d found that. Hmm, a Midley Beacon exclusive, the foremost zombie news source,” he read to himself.
Zombie turkeys had ravaged Illinois and the US at Thanksgiving. Thankfully, they hadn’t hit near Terre Haute, where he lived. He skimmed the article rapidly. Corn All, one of their agribusiness rivals, had genetically modified its corn to fight off corn disease. The genetic modification would adapt to the disease at a cellular level and neutralize it by copying the DNA from the disease organism, whether fungal or bacterial.
“Dear diary,” Jeremy Gentle dictated into his app on his tablet in his bedroom. “Today, I became a superhero.” Jeremy stopped, uncertain. Was that the best way to start his journal? Might as well just tell the story. He needed to sleep. He had a big algebra test tomorrow at Maryville Middle School.
Yesterday, school went as usual. It was the same old seventh grade. Same handicapped kids in the same class. Same problems transferring to the toilet from my wheelchair. Nothing new.
Oh, I take that back. I had one new, bad thing happen— I fell during physical therapy. There I was, between the parallel bars, halfway done. I tried with all my might to take another step. I couldn’t. My muscles screamed, at their end. My legs collapsed, and I hung like a marionette from the gait belt, held by my therapist, Fred Bernstein.
How fascinating! This book says there are libraries where hundreds of books live. It also says the fiction books are in order by author name.
Dancer scurried off Your Sixth Year Reader to look at Jeremy Gentle’s bookshelf again. Jeremy was Dancer’s owner and unknowing educator. Ever since he’d taught himself to read by studying the newspapers lining the bottom of his cage, Dancer had craved reading.
He hadn’t figured out why he’d started reading. One day Dancer had noticed patterns in the markings. He saw they repeated themselves in clumps which then formed more patterns. Then he started listening to his owners differently. They also spoke in patterns. “Jeremy” was always called “Jeremy” or “Jeremy Gentle” by his mother and sometimes by his father.
Dancer had learned to understand Jeremy and his parents, and then he’d put the terms they said with the clumps on the paper. Each letter had a sound, and together they formed clumps his master called “words.” The idea was brilliant. No wonder they were his owners and he was only a hamster.
Dancer read each paper eagerly to the point of memorizing it, but reading started to bore him. Jeremy only changed the lining about once a week. So he’d watched Jeremy open and close his cage door. Then he copied the motion, using his paws and nose. He left to search for more words to read.
Startled, I looked up from my computer and turned around in my wheelchair. My best friend, Dan, had slipped silently into my lab. I still thought of it that way, but we’d made it into the Secret Supers clubhouse almost a year ago. Dan’s round, brown face smiled down at me while his tall, wide frame loomed behind me. His dark glasses hid his blind eyes.
“I didn’t hear you come down the elevator.”
“I took the stairs. Your mom made cookies, so I came over. I could smell them from my house.”
“You mean, you could smell them from my mom’s thoughts?”
“And your’s and your dad’s. You were all excited, so I couldn’t help myself from taking a sniff from your mom’s nose. I didn’t snoop any further than that.”
“I know you respect everyone’s privacy with your mindreading power.”
“Except maybe yours. You did permit me to read yours anytime. But I haven’t read your mind about what you’re concentrating on. C’mon, tell your old friend Dan.”
“Don’t tell anyone. I want to surprise the Secret Supers.”
1 The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
The Pre-Existence of Jesus Christ
The Gospel Medley back cover
John 1:1–5, 10–13
1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. [1]2The same was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through Him. Without Him was not anything made that has been made. 4 In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness hasn’t overcome it.[2]
This is the Revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show to his servants the things which must happen soon, which he sent and made known by his angel to his servant, John, 2 who testified to God’s word and of the testimony of Jesus Christ, about everything that he saw.
What is the origin of the book of Revelation?
How did John get the book of Revelation? Through which Persons did the Revelation pass?
What is the purpose of the Revelation?
Who is the intended audience of Revelation?
What is in the Book of Revelation?
Prayer: Thank You, Almighty God, for giving us the book of Revelation, directly from You through Jesus Christ our Lord. Thank You for using Your created angels and sons of men to spread Your truth through all the world. Amen.
God gives us the name of the book: the Revelation of Jesus Christ. He gives us the topic, things which must happen soon, and shows the provenance of the book as the knowledge flows from His throne through Jesus, to His angel, to John, and then to the whole church.
