Hop the Second: James William Peercy

Fellow Hydra Publications author James William Peercy is my guest today and I am his guest on the 14th. Let’s hear about him, and about his book:

James William Peercy spent his early years in California,(fifteen minutes from Disneyland!). As to the effect of this experience, we can only guess, but imagination seems to make the top of the list. His later years in Texas, he holds a BA in Computer Science with a minor in Math.  Although analytical, the creative side has to find away out. To ease the pain, he designs websites, programs code, and writes.

Brief story synopsis:
It is called ‘Without A Conscious…’. It is about a college student who wakes up one morning to find an envelope slipped under the door of his apartment. As he opens the package, he sees pictures of his grandmother murdered. A call immediately comes in with a strange voice asking  ‘Where is it?’ and then hangs up. The next thing he knows the FBI are knocking at his door. Not only does he have to figure out who murdered  his grandmother, but why, connecting it in with genocide and revenge against the United States of America.

The title came from how the main character finds his clues in the story. Cliff Fulton was taught many techniques of problem solving when he was a child by his grandmother. He and his family also have a knack for unconsciously putting together facts. This is what started the idea, ‘Without A Conscious…’, implying ‘Without a conscious thought…’. Yet the title is even more than that. It is the first part of a sentence and each of the next four books in the series will complete the sentence. Of course, that won’t stop the series from continuing beyond five books.

Excerpt:
The photo stared up at him; it was a picture of an older woman lying under a bridge. The light green sweatshirt, sweat pants, and bright white tennis shoes appeared clean and new, the camera making sure the face was shown. It showed her dead.

Time stopped as the meaning of the photo slammed into his conscious mind.

This could not be real; it did not even feel real. It was a movie one watched on television, or play portrayed at the theatre, or a . . . the seconds stretched out as time waited patiently, taunting him with a reality that he refused to believe. In the background the kitchen ceiling fan rattled, its repetitive singing lulling him into limbo.

Wheels screeched outside the apartment window, and he jumped, almost dropping the photo. Like the calm before an inevitable storm, his mind fought against this. In slow motion, he opened the envelope in which the picture had come, and stared into the empty package. He had to go to the police.

The note said otherwise, though those particular words were not on it.

It was printed on a three by five card, using a serif font, and simply stated, ‘Where is it?’ This had to be a sick joke.

He turned on his cell phone, pressed find, and located his grandmother’s number. The system paused, the wireless bars dropping and then returning, as he anxiously watched her number cross the screen. Taking way too long, the top of the phone finally showed ‘dialing’.

The line rang and an older, familiar, voice answered, “I’m not here right now, but please leave a message.” A tone sounded.

“Gran, this is Cliff,” he paused as his voice stuck in his throat. This was impossible. This picture could not be real. Things like this just didn’t happen to real people . . .

Without A Conscious… is available from AMAZON and AMAZON.UK.

James can be found at his website and at his blog, Stories To Tell. He’s also on Twitter and three Facebook pages:

Without A Conscious
The Wall Outside
Stories To Tell

Ooooooo…. I find photographs and painting inspiring, too. That’s very cool, using the titles of the books to complete a sentence. Puzzles within puzzles!

Thanks for visiting today, James. 🙂

Meanwhile, I’m posting at Fatal Foodies today on Food Rules. Hop over and join me, when you’ve followed James to all his lairs.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Use a photograph for inspiration.

MA

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About

I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, but now live in the woods in southern Indiana. Though I only write fiction, I love to read non-fiction. The more I learn about this world, the more fantastic I see it is.

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