GUEST POST.
I suppose I should tell you why you should read JOE, but if the blurb about a school shooter, a young stuttering clairvoyant girl who tries to stop it, and six people who will all be in the line of fire come the day of the shooting doesn’t do it for ya, I’ve probably lost you already.
So, since I plan on releasing a poetry book soon (find me on Twitter or Facebook if you care to be updated) how’s about a little poetry? This one is an oldie but a goodie. I wrote it a while ago but it remains one of my favorites. It’s honest. Read it out loud if you want to truly dig the rhyme scheme, and dream on, brothers and sisters.
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Afraid to Dream
By: H. D. Gordon
There is an uncertainty, that’s so certain it’s almost absolute, half of me is staring wide-eyed at the future and never blinking once as fireworks and sparklers blaze in my eyes, as I look, and all of it, so close, so obtainable, so much better than even it can seem
I’m almost afraid to dream
That I could do the things I’ve seen others, though there are few, that I could do those things, maybe even better than most would have me do, but really, I’m just afraid to grow old and never realize my potential, to watch myself settle into something, someone, I was never meant to be
I’m almost afraid to dream
That I could be successful, wildly so, if only I could tie, wrap up and secure in chains, the little girl who found out, maybe a little too early, that fairytales don’t come true, and who shakes her head and imposes more sensible life goals, if only I could chain her down and force her to sit in a back corner room of my mind until she could read what I mean
She’s way too afraid to dream
That they were wrong. All wrong. Wrong when they thought me fool and failure, wrong when they knew I had talent and said you’re going nowhere, the same ones who will love me when it all comes together and some of them love me truly but what does it matter when they help me believe
It’s okay to be afraid to dream
As long as I dream, and dreams I do have, they haunt me and taunt me to grab with everything in me, reach for the sunrise and horizon, just keep reaching and reaching until my arms ache, and keep giving me reason to say, it’s okay, you’re doubt is okay, I’m just another girl who knows her way, and I’ll reach until I can reach no more, and I’ll follow some rules and I’ll break even more, but sometimes, it gets harder and harder to breathe
That’s when I’m afraid to dream
Because dreams wash away, they sway and they gray and then all of a sudden you’re empty, left with a large hole in your soul where a dream is supposed to be, and you’ll squint and you’ll strain and still it gets harder to see, but there, there, back in that corner a something blazes, and it’s far and it’s faint and it’s crude and it leans but it means
What is life without hopes and dreams?
Lovely, H D. I am a dreamer and I enjoyed the poem tremendously.
I hope you enjoy the tour and my review. Feel free to drop by any time.
MY REVIEW
H D Gordon never ceases to amaze me with her ability to spin a tale. Joe reads as if it is a character study of people just living their lives. Her characters are superbly developed, with individual personalities that we can all relate to because they are like the people around us. There are six main characters, but I came to know some of the others pretty well. One person led into the next to the next. H D wove them together so naturally, I could see how we are all connected, creating a continuity of life. Each character has wishes, desires, hopes, plans and problems.
Don’t forget to live for today, it can all change in a second. That is the feeling I have while reading. There is tension, suspense and a feeling of doom. I know something bad is coming and I’m waiting for “the shit to hit the fan”.
“Evil is not just a thing of fairy tales. Evil is real and it walks among us.”
“That’s life baby and that shit ain’t always fair.”
My name is Joe and I draw my visions and premonitions. Some people think I’m strange. Well, who isn’t? I am a bit paranoid and mistrustful. I am a recluse, because of my stutter and gift. I write because I need to tell my story. I am 21 and just an average girl, except for my gift. I am taking the semester off from UMM – University of Midwest Missouri State. I am not hero. I only step in because of guilt. (But she puts her life on the line repeatedly over and over for others).
John became Joe’s friend after meeting in class. They were not in love, just friends. John had lost his love, Jade. Was she lost forever? She was back and wanted to see him on Monday. Monday a new day, a new week and new hope for John.
Nikkie and Claire – her sisters – are as different as night and day. Nikki is the black sheep of the family. She lives as if there is no tomorrow. Claire feels trapped. She is the good girl, the one expected to succeed. Claire would have loved Nikki’s freedom. She smoked pot, but only her roommate knew. What would everyone, her family and peers, think of miss-do-gooder if they knew? Claire was always planning for tomorrow. Claire is weak. She’s so afraid of life, the thought of retirement is terrifying.
Claire says to Nikki, “I’ll tell you this, you’re not going to be lying on your deathbed wishing you had spent more of your life working.”
Nikki “When you become aware of people’s natural inclinations and limitations, you can understand them and if you don’t expect from them what their nature doesn’t give, you’ll never be disappointed.” Great words to live by.
Best friends – Kayla and Kyle, sound a bit like Barbie and Ken. Giving and did not like or want attention. They were underestimated by others and like it that way.
I have a very good feeling about Mr. Landy.
Merion is one of Joe’s college teachers. He was going to let her retake her test on Monday, even though she had not planned on being at school that day.
Eric had an important appointment on Monday and needed permission to be out of town. He had worked so hard for this moment. What do you think will happen?
Michael is intrigued by her. She stood apart from others.
The Decider saw a raven sitting on top of the jaguar that is situated on the slight rise overlooking the Quad. Yet, it wasn’t there. Ravens are known to denote foreshadowing. Joe called him the shadowman.
Psychopath – he wants to leave a legacy of dead bodies. He feels he is greater than Hitler. He feels that others think him simple, but he thinks he is smart. He is meticulous. He has a face that hides the monster inside. He hates everyone. He believes in the “Survival of the Fittest.”
Joe – I see visions and I draw. Motherfucker. I have an awful obligation to do what I can. What to do? Would she fail in this also?
I love H D Gordon’s writing style. I don’t think it would matter what genre she wrote in. Her ability to spin a story is of the highest caliber, as are the stories themselves. I have read numerous books by her and loved them all. Joe, Book II is now out.
5 Stars – Would Buy It For Them (lol)
I received the ebook in return for an honest and unbiased review. Thanks H!
Genres: Paranormal Thriller, Supernatural Thriller, NA, Thriller
Tour Promo Price: $2.99
BLURB
A psychopath planning a massacre. A stuttering young girl with disturbing visions of the future. Six ordinary people who will all be in the line of fire come the day of the disaster.
Joe Knowe is not a boy. She is twenty-one years old, and she sees things before they happen; bad things, and the worst thing she has ever faced is just around the corner. A madman is going to shoot up the college Joe attends. The trouble is, her gift is stingy on the details she needs to divert the impending tragedy. Now, Joe has four days to figure out the mystery and save the lives of many.
From the author of The Alexa Montgomery Saga comes a tense tale that glimpses the mind of a genuine psychopath, follows an unlikely hero, and explores real-life terror in a race against time that will leave the reader breathless.
EXCERPT
Prologue
~The Decider~
It was a Monday.
The worst days are typically Mondays. But this one was alright. Different, sure, but alright. He’d made plans for today. He’d not only made plans, but acquired the artillery to back them up. Put them into action. Bang-Bang.
One song had played on a continuous loop in his apartment for the past three days.
Come Monday
He didn’t much care for music. Never really had, but this particular song amused him. Perhaps would have comforted him. If he were able to feel any emotion required to be in need of comfort.
It’ll be all right
He couldn’t wait to see their faces, to watch as they fled and cowered in fear. In fear of him. The thought of it all made his heart leap in his chest. And, oh, what a wonderful sensation that was. Potent. They should fear him. Hell yeah, they should. He could take his pick, and he would. They just didn’t know it yet, which was great, because they would know soon. They would know today.
Come Monday
He drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the tune, but had no mind of doing so. He was excited. Such a rare, beautiful thing this was, this excitement. The anticipation of it all, all his plans coming to life, of all their….faces. He bet some would try to beg, and wouldn’t that be amusing, to watch them crawl at his feet? They would know in that wonderful moment right before he ended their worthless existences that he had made the decision.
I’ll be holding you tight.
He reached down and brushed his fingers across the semi-automatic pistol sitting atop the passenger seat. It was the smallest of the lot, but his favorite. His baby. In the end, it would relieve him of his existence as well, but oh, the wonders the two of them will have seen together. He thought about what they would say in the news about him and his…decisions. Lunatic, Gunman, Madman…Massacre.
The last was his favorite.
If things went according to plan he may be able to take out a hundred, hundred-fifty people. If the bombs he’d built went according to plan he would take out many more. Hundreds. He dared to dream even thousands as he cruised down Highway 71 toward the Wilker campus of the University of Midwest Missouri State. UMMS for short. He hated that. Stupid fucking acronym. Man, he hoped his bombs worked. He’d followed the instructions on the internet as precisely as he could manage, but wiring the timers on the damn things had been tricky. It didn’t really matter, though. He would watch them fall to him either way.
In fact, he knew just what they would do.
They would be heartbroken and crying to their mommies. They would light candles and say prayers and mutter condolences, like any of them were even intelligent enough to give a shit about another worthless human being. The police chief and reporters would call him a madman, a psychopath, a murderer. They would analyze the video journals and poetry he left scattered about his apartment. And they won’t learn a damn thing. Because that’s how fucking stupid they were.
Oh, and there would be a body count. If things went according to plan, if the rockets’ red glared and bombs burst in the air, they would stamp his Decisions in the book of records.
The worst massacre in the history of the U-ni-ted States of Amer-i-ca.
The thought made his heart soar.
Buy Links: Amazon / Barnes and Noble
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
H. D. Gordon is the bestselling author of THE ALEXA MONTGOMERY SAGA, THE JOE KNOWE SERIES, and THE SURAH STORMSONG NOVELS. H. D. is a lifelong reader and writer, a true lover of words. When she is not reading or writing she is raising her two daughters, playing a little guitar, and spending time with her family. She is twenty five years old and lives in the northeastern United States.
Connect With H.D. Gordon: Website / Facebook / Twitter
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Demelza Carlton has always loved the ocean, but on her first snorkelling trip she found she was afraid of fish. She has since swum with sea lions, sharks and sea cucumbers and stood on spray-drenched cliffs over a seething sea as a seven-metre cyclonic swell surged in, shattering a shipwreck below. Sensationalist spin? No – Demelza tends to take a camera with her so she can capture and share the moment later; shipwrecks, sharks and all. Demelza now lives in Perth, Western Australia, the shark attack capital of the world. The Ocean’s Gift series was her first foray into fiction, followed by her suspense thriller Nightmares trilogy.
Shawna Seed is a writer and editor whose career has taken her to both coasts and several spots in between, working for organizations that include The Dallas Morning News and ESPN.com.
Angela Scott hears voices. Tiny fictional people sit on her shoulders and whisper their stories in her ear. Instead of medicating herself, she decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. She’s not crazy. She’s an author. For the most part, she writes contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, she found herself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West–and loving it. Her zombies don’t sparkle, and they definitely don’t cuddle. At least, she wouldn’t suggest it. She lives on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. She graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of her love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn’t require math. She can’t spell, and grammar is her arch nemesis. But they gave her the degree, and there are no take backs.
