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.
Accidents happen. Especially around zombie turkeys. Then you add zombie humans, and problems proliferate. Mix in some ill-planned genetic engineering, and things get crazy.
The insanity continues, from the story where zombies are merged with cucumbers to the one where two basement-dwelling nerds gain access to all video content from the past two hundred years—from aliens.
Andy Zach pulls out all the stops on his imagination as he serves up this smorgasbord of silliness. Try it. Laughter is good for your soul
Here are the chapter icons for Oops, with the main character’s introduction.
One queen saw the problem more clearly than anyone else. Her king and prince had both drowned only a short distance from the shore because no one saw them signing for help. The queen sat vigil all night long, and in the morning she sent heralds with large signs in every language to all the humans, elves, dwarves, fairies, leprechauns, and even a dragon. She pled with all to find something that would let creatures communicate without signs or gestures when they couldn’t see each other. She promised she would give whatever was in her power to whoever could accomplish this.
Andy Zach during his doctoral research – Your first free story A Phoenix Tale
A Phoenix Tale
I left the air-conditioned comfort of the taxi, and the sights, sounds, and smells of the old bazaar in Jeddah assailed me: a robe-clad man on camel plodded by, an adjacent fishmonger added his smell to the fresh dung in the street, and the hawkers yelled their wares.
I could only speak Arabic at a middle school level, but as I strolled through the bazaar, I heard “Fresh dates!”…”Highest quality rugs!”…”Finest gold jewelry!”… “Ancient books! The rarest in Saudi Arabia!”
My head snapped around. A bald, stumpy man in a white caftan saw me look and said, “Books? You want ancient books?”
“Yes.” I spoke carefully, knowing my poor accent. “Can you speak English?” I didn’t have much hope.
Brice Butterworth, a genetic engineerfrom Gift #2 – In a Pickle
Now, what was he going to do? Brice Butterworth’s 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. Brice 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 out loud.
“Whatcha doing, Brice?” asked my boss Wilma O’Reilly after sneaking up behind me.
I jumped. As usual, I was cruising the internet, bored with my job. How awkward.
We worked at Vegan Inc., an agricultural conglomerate. I was their lead geneticist in charge of enhancing the qualities of the corporation’s vegetable products through genetic modification.
Let me know what you think of my gift for you by clicking here or emailing me at [email protected]. As always, everyone who responds with a comment or email will get a free book from me.
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.
