Even the end of the world isn't always what it seems...
There are sometimes larger and more powerful forces at play in the universe than those that could end all of existence. Even the seemingly most insignificant of lives can have an enormous impact on the world, and every living creature on it. Death isn’t always the end, and to some even an apocalypse can be little more than a means to an end.
4.8 stars on Amazon
4.71 stars on Goodreads
"Excellent story! Gripping and well-written." - Rachel Thompson, Bestselling Author of 'Broken Pieces'
"This story is dark, mind bending, yet has a poetic and beautiful/romantic quality to rival that of stories like The Fountain" - S.K.Whiteside, Author of 'Scribe' and 'Vexed'
"On a deeper level, we see a Gehenna-like abyss, the opening scene gently introducing us to humankind. The heart of this story tells of our inability to see beyond the here and now. Beyond our own meager existence.
I enjoyed his tiptoe into Panpsychism and thoroughly enjoyed the storyline espousing the theory that everything has a mental aspect AND a physical aspect, a subjective aspect and an objective aspect." - K.R. Jordan, Author of 'Riftglade'
Further Reviews of Destroyer of Worlds can be found here.
There was an exotic feel to her, buried inside the girl next door. She was slight, and lovely, and smelled lightly of vanilla. He knew he’d never seen her before this moment, but was this really the first time he’d been in this moment?
There was something ‘off’ and yet so familiar about her. It went beyond the simple feeling of déjà vu, but he couldn’t bring himself to care just now.
“You either have good taste in older cars, or you really need a place to sit.” He smiled, fully aware he’d said it exactly that way before.
“It’s a Mach 1, isn’t it?”
Impressed, he replied, “That’s right. 1971 fastback. 351 Windsor tall deck V8. Metal flake blue, and corrosion. She’s…a monster, but she’s mine.”
The girl poured herself off the hood and down through the open passenger window. David opened the driver’s door and peered in at her questioningly, unable to say a word.
She slid down deep into the passenger seat until nestled to her satisfaction. Like a cat, the contentment spread over her slowly. Looking back at him with pursed lips, she seemed to own part of the car now.
“How fast can it go?”
“She.” David corrected her. “She can go one ninety without flinching. I really don’t know past that.”
He got in and shut his door. Curiosity had gotten the best of him. He turned the key, but couldn’t stop staring, trying to catch her eyes.
“My name is Dave,” he said, extending his hand. “And you are?”
“You can call me whatever you want to,” she said with a devious grin. “Names really aren’t as important as everyone seems to think they are.”
Just being near her made him feel better, more alive. He couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t recall ever feeling this drawn to anyone but Des. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe you can get over love, eventually.
“So Dave, what’s got you so depressed?”
He cocked his head to one side, taken a bit off guard by the question. “End of the world isn’t enough?” he joked, even though he knew she was asking more than that.
“Sorry about that, Dave. But everything has to end. I just figured now was as good a time as any to end it.” She looked out the window, her voice a casual monotone, like an afterthought.
“You figured? Wait. What?”
She opened the door and stepped out into the parking lot. Turning back, she bent down and peered into the car. Their eyes locked and he knew, as crazy as it sounded, that she was telling the truth. She was the cause.
“What’s your name?”
“Why do you dwell on things that don’t matter when there are so many things that do?” Her lips moved to smile, but it was obvious her heart wasn’t in it.
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