Have a little “Vision”...

N. D. Hansen-Hill, a resident of Waitakere, New Zealand, has been writing SF, fantasy, and paranormal suspense novels for the past six years. Among these are The Light Play Trilogy (unethical gene transfer and a runaway virus), The Grave Images Series (ghosts, demons, and out of control psi), The Trees Series (rebel fairies, mad scientists, and murderous mutants), Vision (time travel, clairvoyance, telepathy, and trouble); Static (electromagnetic mayhem), and Elf (demons, flesh-eating Friedelkriekers, and a rediscovered destiny).

Twelve of ND’s fifteen titles are with Clocktower Books, a San Diego publishing house. These titles have also been contracted to - and are soon to be released by - Fictionwise.com, a New Jersey publishing house specialising in electronic books.

ND’s books arise from a diverse background, which includes experience in fields as varied as plant pathology, teaching, commercial irrigation, painting, and the graphic arts. When not writing books and screenplays, the author is a working artist, and is presently pursuing a masters degree at the University of Auckland in fungal virology.

Vision, a SF/paranormal suspense novel, was written in November during a “book-in-a-month” challenge, and is now available free on the Net. Over five thousand people have visited ND’s website for their copies in the last two months.

The author’s motto? “You’ll never know what you can do unless you try. Don’t ‘overthink’ it. Just act.”

So, have a little “Vision”. Pick up your free copy at:
http://www.angelfire.com/art/ndhhbooks/visionpage.html

Buy Books By N. D. Hansen Hill

Here’s a bit of Vision to tempt you if you haven’t yet picked up your free copy

Vision

The blind illusion of logic bent,
Clarity strewn when reason went,
Torqued and bloodied thoughts adrift
A truth-entangled genetic rift.

* So, clear the head and fill the mind
As past and present are left behind,
Blow the then and blast the now,
History shorn in a shattered vow.

* Enter the beasts and demon spawn
To manipulate the naive pawn,
Genetic mayhem and twisted schemes
Cursed in paranormal dreams

* Where prophecy rules the first is last
Death reverts to life aghast,
Insanity reigns - there lies the fault,
Only murd’rous mayhem can force a halt.

by N. D. Hansen-Hill

Prologue

The day was split - overlain with the shuddery thunder of a heavy tread on sedimentary soils.
Soils that were soft and non-impacted.
Soils that were still new.
He stood there, blind and deaf to any world but this. His vision was trapped here, while his body lingered in a world a hundred million years - maybe several hundred million years - away.

Past experience had warned him not to move. In a place like this it could be deadly. Because, over the aeons, so many of the land’s physical features had changed.

What you see is not always what you get...
He could only watch, paralyzed by his vulnerability, as the monstrous shape came toward him. His eyes fixed on the long, talon-like claws, the ripping teeth, the daggerlike spine - almost like a scorpion’s stinger - at the end of the tail. The stinger was what caught and held his eye. He forced himself to focus on it, as the creature did a series of bounding leaps in his direction.

It can’t see me, he thought, trying to bolster his confidence. But, it didn’t do much to help. Because there was a gleam in the predator’s eye now, and Dustin could swear it was aiming right for him.

The mud slapped with each heavy step, and now, there was mud flicked in his eyes. Flicked in his eyes and flecked on his face. Sweat on his skin and terror in his heart. The mouth opened so fast, he knew he’d never stand a chance. No hope to outrun it on terrain he couldn’t even see.

Not true. It’s because you see too much...
It’s not here!
You’re not here!
But it didn’t help. He was in a world stinking of methane and sulfur, and rotting meat on three-inch teeth. Where enormous lizards snapped jaws at man-sized morsels. And it didn’t do him a damn bit of good to tell himself he wasn’t here.
Because he’d never tested it before. He’d learned not to move, because his own world could kill him. But he’d never deliberately sought to place himself “somewhere else”.
His existence had never been at risk before...
I can’t sit here and be eaten...
The monster was confused by his stationary pose. It was accustomed to having its prey flee, squealing. At the very least, it was expecting some evasive maneuver: head bobbing, counterattack, dodges - something any prey with a gram of intelligence would do.

And, suddenly, it was no good. “I need out!” he hissed urgently. “Josh!” It was the panicky squawk the creature had been waiting for. The eyes widened, and in that second, Dustin knew it was going to strike. The jaws snapped once, and he wasn’t imagining the saliva. As the head lunged forward in a snake-like strike, he dove to one side.

But the tail moved even faster.

This time, when the man’s mouth opened, it wasn’t with shrieks of terror - it was with an even shriller howl of pain.