Tag Archives: Moonrise

Moonrise – Introduction

Hey, Sixteen Sunsets fans! The sequel to Sixteen Sunsets is now official. Cindy Vaskova, who came up with the Andy Kitz character from Sixteen Sunsets, has agreed to co-author the sequel, tentatively titled, Moonrise. We’ve got a bunch written already, and just like Sixteen Sunsets, it’ll be a web serial here before it’s rewritten into a novel. We’re going a little slower than other projects I’m involved in and plan on releasing a chapter every other week until Mental State and Days Until Home are complete, then we’ll reassess. I’m looking forward to this sequel, and I hope you are too. I look forward to reading your comments every other Monday, starting on May 2nd!

Remember, though; Sixteen Sunsets will be spoiled by Moonrise. If you haven’t read Sixteen Sunsets, then read it here on the blog in its original form, or shoot me an email, and I’d be happy to send you an electronic copy. All I ask is that you leave a review on Amazon.

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Moonrise CH01 – Stayin’ Alive

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Joaquin stared at himself in Frank Massey’s bathroom mirror. He had unscrewed the piercing from his eyebrow and placed it on the sink. His short-cropped hair that he had grown back on Massey’s recommendation glistened still wet from the shower.

“I hope you’re shaving that goatee in there.”

Joaquin turned to Massey’s voice coming through the closed door. He liked the goatee. It looked cool, and it kind of gave him Big AF’s look. It had been awhile since he had listened to any of his raps but they were still on fleek in his memory.

The bitches be killin’ it for me, Joaquin thought as he smiled smugly to himself.

A knock came on the door. Joaquin clicked his tongue.

“Hell no old dude, I told you. I did my piercing and all. I ain’t changing the goatee, fuck that.”

Massey opened the door and stood with his hands akimbo.

“How about what we talked kid? My house – my rules.”

Joaquin sighed and rubbed a hand over his chin.

“Your rules ain’t cool.”

“Yeah and living on the streets ain’t much on the cool side too.”

Joaquin crossed his arms over his chest.

Massey raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I don’t get why you is makin’ me do all this proper dressin’ and shit. I thought we would be bustin’ some supers, chargin’ at Globe for a change, jus’ like you said. To make the world better.”

Massey stepped inside the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“I’ve got a duty to find those people and prove what they’re doing. Then I’ll put them in jail. You’ve got an obligation to those people out there for screwing them over again and again. That’s why you’ve got to look the part and get a job. It could be months before anything turns up on Doctor Globe. He’s got deep pockets since he let his commission in the Army go. You ain’t living in my house without providing.”

“No man, you know you cops ain’t good for shit like that. Bree’ll fuck you right up. You need me.”

Massey shook his head. “All in good time, Joaquin. Now shave that thing off your face. You still look like a thug.”

Joaquin’s face turned red, and he was about to open his mouth when Massey gave him that look. It was the same one he kept on giving every time Joaquin was about to say something stupid or flame up and start throwing shade at stuff.

He looked back into the mirror and waited for Massey to leave the bathroom.
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Moonrise CH02 – Clandestine Meetings

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Andy Kitz sat with his jaw clenched. His eyes scanned the contents of his laptop screen. He tried to keep his face neutral, but each second that rolled by led to another frown. He started to feel pain in his molars as he ground his teeth. He was aware of a white blur in his peripheral vision, and he raised a single finger. Without a word or further direction from Andy, the waitress reached for his cup. He waited for her to refill his coffee, and then took a large gulp, sucking in air through his teeth in an attempt to relieve the competing pain of the hot liquid that burned his throat. His eyes never left the screen.

“So, it’s good, right?”

When the video ended, Andy tilted the lid of his laptop partially closed, popped his ear buds out and focused his attention on a grinning, Joe.

Joe was Andy’s best informant. He never delivered anything but pure gold and his videos were in high definition with high bitrate sound. This combination made them all the more valuable.

Of course “Joe” wasn’t Joe’s real name. To him and everyone in the network Andy was “Nate” and Nate was the father, mother, and moderator of the SuperHub. It collected and stored video, photos, audio recordings and text data on super humans spotted around the city from his five informants. Those informants had their own networks of people who “Nate never meets because his five primaries were enough to trust these meetings to without suspicions being raised.” It was the law as far as SuperHub was concerned, and anyone who wanted to be involved knew that that was the price of admission.

“It’s fucking brilliant Joe. It’s…” Andy struggled for the word, “…beautiful,” he concluded.

Joe’s grin couldn’t have gotten any wider, and Andy opened the screen to play the video again, a single ear bud adorning his ear.

The view was from a high angle, possibly shot from a tenement fire escape with a telephoto lens. A teenage superhuman was phasing through the glass window of a jewelry store. The camera zoomed in on his hand as it slid through the glass like it wasn’t there. Zooming out, Joe’s video showed that there were people around him spitting “holy shit” and “no way” and they also filmed what looked like a Dynamo stunt.

Just as the kid’s hand was about to clasp around a necklace, he turned around to wink at his audience, and his face contorted in pain while he screeched at the top of his lungs. He stumbled backward and fell, a fountain of blood erupting from his sliced stump.

Andy admired Joe’s quickened breathing as he zoomed in on the severed hand that lay in a pool of blood inside the glass, and then on the teen that twitched in agony as he clasped his arm.

The last image on the video was of police officers coming around the corner, and an askew view of a metal fire escape as Joe switched off the camera.

“He couldn’t do it without looking at the process,” Joe whispered. “Like he had to concentrate on that, and only on that, but he got cocky.” Joe tilted his head to the side. “And it cost him.”
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Moonrise to 16Sunsets or Vice Versa

I reblogged Cindy’s post, and then decided to copy and paste it. Stolen from the Wonky Pen:


Cindy-Vaskova

If you haven’t already noticed there are two chapters to something called Moonrise shared on the blog, and it’s not just a random reblog, it’s an ongoing web series about superheroes that I am a part of. Hoorah! I am not procrastinating as much-ish. And besides superheroes are trendy now.

I am not very good at these types of blog posts but here we go. The hook.

Moonrise plays as a sequel to a novel called Sixteen Sunsets (you may have seen it as 16Sunsets) which is written by a long-distance friend and amazing prolific writer Mark Gardner of Article94 (seriously he has no stopping and the energy of a YouTuber). I highly recommend you go and read that first, because Spoilers (nailed that Doctor Who reference). It’s a great rollercoaster with many fresh faces, superpowers and lots of secrets regarding them. You can buy it from these places or have an unedited, somewhat hectic read, plus lots of cool extra stuff like interviews, hints and book covers here.

If you have already read or followed the progress of Sixteen Sunsets from web series on the blog to the novel that it is now, bravo to you! All the more – if you liked it and if you’re incredibly curious what happens next to the main characters come read Moonrise.

It’s going to be a handful – it’s going to be action packed, there’ll be intrigues, hacking, secrets of historical proportions, mass manipulation, a ton of people emerging with various, crazy superpowers, and add to that a creepy, overpowered little girl.

If you are a fan of those sorts of things, welcome to Moonrise!

In a quick summary what Sixteen Sunsets leaves unanswered, Moonrise perhaps will unravel. Where Sixteen Sunsets left destinies unknown, Moonrise perhaps will shine a light. Where characters failed in Sixteen Sunsets, perhaps they shall prevail in Moonrise. Whom Sixteen Sunsets marked as baddies, perhaps Moonrise will redeem. Or vice versa.

It’s an incredible fun to write and continue in the spirit and charm that Sixteen Sunsets put forth and I’m honored and flattered that Mark thought of me when he was planning on Moonrise.

Follow his blog or watch this space because I will be reblogging all of the chapters regardless. Chapters will be posted every week on Monday on Mark’s website. You can get the news first by following Mark’s Twitter @Article_94 . He has a ton of brilliant ongoing projects and I’m sure that if you’re not into superheroes you can stay busy and entertained with any of his other works, some of which he is co-authoring with as many as 3 other writers. You can check the sci-fi, horror, slice of life, steampunk, historical, fantasy projects here.

Thank you for reading and I hope I’ll see you in Moonrise!


Moonrise CH03 – Freedom

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“Miss Anne?”

Anne turned from the scene behind the reinforced glass window to see Bree in her pink linen pajamas. Bree held a threadbare kitten that was at one time white, but now, even the industrial lighting in the room couldn’t wash out the dinge.

Anne knelt in front of Bree, and pushed Bree’s blonde hair over one of her ears. “What is it sweetie?”

Bree hugged her kitty close, and in a small voice asked, “Why are you so sad here?”

Anne glanced back at the window where Peter and Kristoff lay on medical beds, tubes running from their arms and wrists into machines whose purpose was known only to Dr. Globe, and the team of scientists that were constantly going to and fro from the room to their lab past another reinforced glass window.

“Well, honey,” Anne replied when she returned her attention to the little girl, “I’m not happy here.”

“Why don’t you leave?”

“Doctor Globe won’t let me leave. He says I have to stay here.” Anne mussed Bree’s hair. “Besides, who’d look after you?”

Bree stuck out her lower lip. “I’m big enough to take care of myself,” she declared with a defiant squint of her eyes.

“I’m sure you can, Bree, but I’m not sure I have anything to go back to.”

Bree frowned. “I shouldn’t’ve led them to the cabin.”

Anne stood and stared into the room behind the glass. She rested her head against the glass in the same spot she had every day. Each time, her forehead left a smudge against the glass, and each morning the smudge was gone. “Why’s that, sweetie?” she asked the precocious ten-year-old. She wondered for a moment if Bree understood the ramifications of the showdown in the woods; if she understood Anne’s forced stay in the secure bunker. Or the lives forever altered because of one man’s lust for power, for control.

“Well,” Bree responded, her attention on the stuffed kitty in her arms, “there was so much mud from when the snow melted. It made my pretty, pretty shoes dirty.”

When Globe had captured Peter, Kristoff and Anne with Bree’s help, many people died on the freshly melted snow. Anne was almost glad that there wasn’t a lot of snow. The red soaked into the mud, and mixed. The white ground would’ve shown the world where Justin died. Not that Globe would allow anyone in the area. The entire portion of the provincial park was quarantined. False documents declared it a biohazard. Bree’s display with the birds had convinced the powers that be that there was a real danger in the cold dark forest. Little did they know that the real danger left with them in the helicopter.
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Moonrise CH04 – Remember

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Detective Frank Massey pushed against the door to the Seattle PD with his elbow trying to prevent the paper coffee cups from tipping over inside their cardboard holder.

He greeted some of the officers as he made his way to the desk of a young woman. Massey placed a cup in front of her. She glanced first at the offered coffee and then to the person offering it. She jumped out of her seat and stood with her spine straight, her chair rolling away.

“Detective Massey!” she exclaimed.

“Easy there Officer Patterson! I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m sorry, sir-” she stuttered. “I, uh, mean, Detective Massey. It won’t happen again.”

Massey broke out a wide grin, laughed wholeheartedly and earned a shy smile from Officer Betty Patterson.

“I suppose it’s better that than you shooting me on the spot because I startled you.” His smile faded slightly. “Do you have anything for me? I know I shouldn’t have asked it of you but…”

“No, sir. It wasn’t a bother, really.” She tilted her head to the side and focused on something in the clutter of her desk. “Actually, there was a call for you from a Colonel Burkins. He wanted to know when you were in, but I told him I didn’t know.” She picked up a pink sticky note and held it out to him. “He left you his number.”

Betty passed Massey the note with a name and telephone number scrawled on it.

“Did he mention what he wanted?”

Betty shook her head.

“Alright.” His warm smile returned. “Keep up the good work Officer Patterson.”

Massey walked into his office and threw his overcoat and blazer on a hanger. Burkins had no doubt called about Massey’s recent trip to Canada. Burkins was the perfunctory who issued Massey the appropriate paperwork, after he assured the Colonel that he was making an inquiry to the whereabouts of a dangerous criminal who had fled Seattle. It wasn’t precisely a lie, Massey thought. He had pursued Joaquin and Kristof into the wilderness, and he was thankful for the odd bit of luck that his car drove up the road at the exact same time Joaquin needed to be saved. Massey’s bosses had photos and video of the flumes of smoke and the heavy gunshots from that day. When everyone had a high-resolution camera and video capabilities on their smart phones, nothing was private anymore. He assumed he would be brought in for a debriefing pretty soon.

Massey dropped into his office chair’s familiar embrace, and decided that the shifting leather and creaking metal shouldn’t be the only sound in his office, so he turned on the old radio perched on the edge of his desk. It seemed to tune in more static than actual stations, but the one station it did receive faithfully was Q-Thirteen. They had their 80’s retro top twenty chart playing the most repetitious songs of the time. Massey wasn’t a fan, but he enjoyed a nostalgic trip like any other man did.
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Moonrise CH05 – Interrupted

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When Massey stopped his car in the parking lot in front of Jabbar’s convenience store and jumped out of his vehicle, he had only one thought racing madly in his head: I hope Joaquin hasn’t harmed anyone.

When he entered the store, however, the scene was entirely different from what he had pictured in his mind.

Joaquin sat on the floor, hands on the back of his head, with his legs prostrate, Jabbar Junior was holding the phone and hiding behind the counter, and Mr. Jabbar was holding a shotgun, pointed at Joaquin’s face. Massey’s eyes went from face to face, trying to determine who was the most pissed.

Clearly it was Joaquin who was screaming about his impervious skin and how Jabbar could shoot him ten times over, but he’d still be fine because he was a fucking superhero.

Jabbar, on the other hand, screamed, mixing English and Arabic about how Joaquin was nothing but a lousy thug and how come Frank had decided it would be a good idea to send a thief to work at his family store.

Frank stuck his pinky fingers in his mouth and whistled until his lungs hurt. The pair stopped bickering, and Jabbar Junior dropped down unconscious behind the counter.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

“He tried to rob me!” Mr. Jabbar yelled.

“Fuck you bitch, you denied me mah job, ’cause I look like a thug!” Joaquin retorted from the floor.

“I said you are a thug! A thug I am about to shoot if he doesn’t pay for the broken bottle!”

“Fuck you! You said I was a thug. And you broke that bottle yourself, you pay for it, you pussy!”

Jabbar shoved the shotgun closer to Joaquin’s face.

“I don’t like lying little shit thugs like you!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you more!”

“ENOUGH!”

Frank gestured for Jabbar to put away the shotgun. He pointed toward his badge and the storeowner complied.

“Get up Joaquin.”

The boy scrambled to his feet. His shirt was a mess; his suit jacket sleeve was torn and hanging loose.

“You control this kid Frank. I don’t want him near my store again, or I shoot him.”

Massey sighed. “Hussein, don’t be like that eh? How long have we known each other? Ten, twelve years?”
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