Author Talks – JSH Writes: Episode Three- Dark Sands Teasers
JSH will launch the third book in his Darkworlds Saga – Dark Skies – on Sunday 2 August. His energetic publishing schedule has been quite something to witness and he must be getting it right because he recently surpassed 100 reviews, quite a feat for an author who published their first book last year!
We look forward to catching up with him after the launch to hear all about it. In the mean time, for anyone interested in beginning the series, he's provided some teasers from Book One: Dark Sands.
Okay here are my two sections! I've gone with the classic prologue:
THE COFFEE ON the third floor was always too bitter. She had never really liked coffee anyway, but things got so boring here, she’d often make extra journeys to the brew machine just to break the monotony. Except for the days when she was anxious; then she’d just have one and resign herself to the increased boredom. In a job like this, it was always better to be bored than busy.
Crisis correspondent, that’s what they called her. The job nobody wanted. If something went wrong out there, she was the one tasked with notifying the families of the victims. She wouldn’t even be told how it happened – that was need-to-know only – but you could bet she’d be the one making the calls and sending out the flowers. She’d be the one fielding the questions, the tears, the rage, and the accusations.
The office space was dark, almost dingy, and always smelled of damp, but at least the ceiling didn’t leak. Large west-facing windows allowed a great view of the city, though that could be considered a negative. New London was a brown-grey eyesore that captured all the dourness of its predecessor with none of the character.
She skipped the coffee today.
The meeting would be over soon. Everyone around the place was nervous, as this morning marked the first time they’d be receiving word from the off-world expeditions. The execs would listen to the reports first, of course, and then most likely call in the media. They had press releases drafted for every eventuality and every demographic: hearty, patriotic declarations for the right-wing outlets, messages of scientific breakthrough and social progress for the left, promises of profit and sustainability for the investors and politicians.
The colonisation project represented so much to so many, and this first update was an event of international importance. There was one scenario though, where they wouldn’t immediately call in the media. A scenario where things had gone so catastrophically wrong, nobody could know until the situation was contained, understood. Handled. In that scenario, they would call in the crisis correspondent.
An elevator dinged and shuddered to a halt, shaking the entire floor. Someone stepped out, not the chief exec, but one of her deputies. They weren’t supposed to be here; the media were on the ground floor.
She hoped that his confused look could simply be attributed to getting out at the wrong floor, but he didn’t turn and leave. Instead, he squinted around, scanning the room with beady black eyes. She shrank back into her cubicle, as if that might change something. He couldn’t be looking for her, right? Maybe one of the media liaisons? Maybe he was just a fan of burned coffee, maybe—
His eyes locked onto hers and he approached, swift in stride.
“Hey. CC officer, right?” His voice was low and curt, and his left eye twitched as though whatever thoughts existed behind it were trying to break free. “Would you mind joining us up in the office for a minute?” She nodded and jumped to her feet, banging her knee on her desk in the process.
In this job, it was always better to be bored than busy.
And the excerpt that I used really frequently in promoting the novel because it holds a special place in my heart:
Looking ahead, Tarlo thought he saw a faint glow on the dark horizon, a slight disturbance in the lifeless expanse. They continued for a time, and the glow became far more obvious. Ashelyn frequently updated a relieved-sounding Mai via the comms, who bore a sense of urgency whenever she spoke.
They were within a few kilometres of Catal when the skies parted for the first time.
After living in darkness for so long, this new, dazzling visage was almost painful to behold. Tarlo blinked several times, each startled snapping of his eyelids revealing more of this new world. Back home on the clearest nights, they would be lucky to get a dim view of their arm of the Milky Way. Here, the local arm cut a vivid wound in the tenebrous skies, from which spilled thousands upon thousands of stars, tenfold more than Tarlo had ever seen at once. Beautiful as they were, their positions felt all wrong, as though they might fall from the sky at any moment – another testament to the anomalous dangers of this world.
Ashelyn slowed the D6, equally awed by the magnanimous scene, and together they gazed upwards, speechless. It was only the garbling of the comms station that eventually broke the silence. Cries of distress warped into the vehicle, shattering the delicate peace in an instant. It was impossible to discern most of what was said, but a few words eventually screamed through the chaos. “Wind… two hundred… hour.”
Born from the same fierce gusts that had cleansed the skies, a new horror had come into being. Tarlo stole one last, desperate glance at the stars above, drinking in their strange and alluring brightness. For however long he had yet to live, he would never forget such wonder.
Then the sandstorm was upon them, and their world was consumed by the merciless dark.
With love, JSH <3
Help JHS celebrate the launch of Dark Skies on Sunday 2 February, at Industry 26 Cafe, 26 Pakington Street Geelong West, at 2pm!
More from J.S. Harman
If you’d like to check out my books, you can find them on my website, here:
https://jsharman.com.au
Or on Amazon, here:
My best social media platform is Instagram - @j.s.harman.author, but I also keep the lights on over on Facebook and Tiktok, under the same handle.
