Surviving Planet Zorone

By Jane Greenhill

Gregory Mick Adams (GM) is expecting an ordinary summer hanging with his friend Sawyer and dog Lucky until he attends the ComTol Comic Book Convention, where he wins a one-of a-kind comic book. Max Bombard, comic book creator and gazillionaire, recently returned from the Space Port, only to bring back more than he expected. Estoong resident of Planet Zorone is determined to save his elders and will do so at any cost. GM, his friend Sawyer, sister Demi and dog Lucky match wits against the aliens but can they save Earth before it's too late?

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Jul 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781509236732

Book preview

I’ve got to tell you I’m counting the days until that bloody moon burns itself out. Now, before I was interrupted by that darnite light, I was about to tell you something exciting. You’re the chosen one, Brabora said.

Chosen for what? Esoong asked, shading his eye again for the moon’s second rotation. Nothing much got done during the day until the fifth star passed through their solar system, and then darkness came.

The elders are relying on you. You proved yourself with the invasion of Mars and by sending that spaceship to Area 51 on Earth, which threw those Idiotic Earthlings off our scent. It was good work. Exceptionally good work.

Thank you. Even all these years later, they don’t have a clue, Esoong boasted.

Yes, that’s true, Brabora nodded. Anyway, when the fourth sun passes by, you’ll be hologrammed onto Earth. Your mission is to take command of their resources. Then we’ll be in a prime position to hold Planet Earth hostage.

Surviving Planet Zorone

by

Jane Greenhill

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Surviving Planet Zorone

COPYRIGHT © 2021 by Jane Greenhill

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Jennifer Greeff

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Edition, 2021

Print Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-5092-3674-9

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3673-2

Previously Published as Comic Books from the Evil Plant Xoron and Evil Comic Books from Planet Zorone

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To Geoff, Adam and Liam who make me more proud

each and every day.

Prologue

Your patience has paid off, Brabora said to his underling Esoong.

Sighing deeply, they both dropped from the upright position to their four legs and used their extended tails to cover their central lobes.

A species of highly evolved Komodo dragon, they were left extremely sensitive to the light from the turquoise moon circling their planet Zorone.

As the moon rotated away, Esoong gazed in adoration at the senior Zoroneite. He scratched his reptilian forehead with his left claw. Scales broke off in the dry heat, disappearing as they hit the clay base of the planet.

I’ve got to tell you I’m counting the days until that bloody moon burns itself out. Now, before I was interrupted by that darnite light, I was about to tell you something exciting. You’re the chosen one, Brabora said.

Chosen for what? Esoong asked, shading his eye again for the moon’s second rotation. Nothing much got done during the day until the fifth star passed through their solar system, and then darkness came.

The elders are relying on you. You proved yourself with the invasion of Mars and by sending that spaceship to Area 51 on Earth, which threw those Idiotic Earthlings off our scent. It was good work. Exceptionally good work.

Thank you. Even all these years later, they don’t have a clue, Esoong boasted.

Yes, that’s true, Brabora nodded. Anyway, when the fourth sun passes by, you’ll be hologrammed onto Earth. Your mission is to take command of their resources. Then we’ll be in a prime position to hold Planet Earth hostage.

Chapter 1

Greggy, if I’ve asked you once, I’ve asked you a hundred million times, clean up your room. If you don’t get it done today, I’ll do it for you, and you know what that means.

I pulled the duvet over my head in the hopes of drowning out my mom’s shrill voice, but it seemed to echo even under the covering.

Mom, it’s the weekend, give me a freak’n break. I’ll do it tomorrow. I stifled a yawn and attempted to doze off.

Gregory Mick Adams, you will not use that dirty language in my house. Once in a blue moon, I’d like you to do something without me having to yell at you to get it done. I want you out of bed before I get upstairs or there will be major consequences.

I could only imagine what she had in mind. I can’t even say freak’n without it turning into an international incident. I burrowed my head again trying to get back to the dream of Jasmine Alberta and me. She was doing amazing things with her Star Crusader powers.

Just as Jasmine Alberta was about to rip my shirt clean off my back, Mom tore the duvet off me. Thank goodness I had on my boxers because when I opened my eyes, my mother was standing over me like an unhappy drill sergeant.

I smiled a perfect smile that braces and her five thousand dollars had paid for, but apparently that wasn’t going to melt the iceberg.

Instead I got more grief, if that was even possible. Her eyes homed in on my smile. Why isn’t your retainer in? I didn’t use my hard-earned money for you to have your teeth all shift back the way they were. Do you think money grows on trees?

Mom, I’m thirteen-years old, almost fourteen in ten days, seven hours, twenty-five minutes, and I think I’m old enough to know that money doesn’t grow on trees. Jeez, give me a break.

I tried to grab back the covers, but she had been awake considerably longer than I and her reflexes were a heck of a lot faster for someone so much older than Jasmine Alberta. I was going to have to join a gym if my forty-year-old mother could wrestle a duvet from me.

Gregory Mick, I’m warning you. You can have a quick shower, and not a twenty-minute one, and then a bite to eat. I want this room cleaned up, or I swear I’m going to do it myself and I’ll be tossing more than I’ll be keeping.

My mother morphed into a headless monster and I had to rub my eyes to rid myself of the horrible image.

Mom, do you mind? I don’t watch you get out of bed. I pleaded, trying to cover myself.

That’s because you’re never out of bed when I get up. Oh for heaven’s sake, I used to change your diapers. Get over it. She slammed the door, giving me the peace and quiet I wanted.

Gregory Mick, don’t think you’re going back to sleep. My mother hollered down the hallway, the door vibrating. Then she did the worst possible thing. Even worse than pulling me out of my cozy cocoon, interrupting the coziness I’d been sharing with Jasmine Alberta.

She put on the CD player to the group WHOMP and began to sing—off key.

Music, she called it. Pathetic noise, really. It was horrible. You can understand all the words. It was plain yucky. WHOMP was so ancient that Mom originally listened to it on a record player. I know I had no idea what a record player was either. I had to check it out on the Internet, and it looked like something from outer space. Imagine not taking your music with you. I bet archaeologists will find one with the dinosaur bones.

I saw a WHOMP record at a garage sale, once, and Mom paid five cents for it. Told you—pathetic. I don’t know what she’d been thinking. We don’t even own a record player. That didn’t bother Mom though. It’s hanging on the wall in the dining room.

Some families have Jesus on the cross, mine has WHOMP on the wall.

Yep, not only did my mother curse me with the name of her pop singer idol with highlighted hair, I had to listen to him and his band at high decibels every time we were in the car. Yep, mom had an old tape player in the car, and yes, my mom had a mix tape, though how she could call it a mix tape when it was only one band, I have no idea. But hey, if you can figure out mothers, let me know, I think we’d be millionaires.

There was a fate far worse than death and yours truly was living and breathing it.

Chapter 2

I hopped in and out of the shower in record time, at least for me. I wrote I’m awesome in the steamed mirror. I ran my hands expertly though my brown curly hair, knowing no matter what I did it would resort back to the way it always goes. Mom says she would give her eye teeth for my curls. Like what the heck would I do with extra teeth? My mom is weird. With a towel smelling of lemons wrapped around my waist, (not due to me but mom’s detergent), I headed back into my room.

Get me up before you get gone, I hummed. I freak’n hated it when I couldn’t get a song out of my head, especially when it was WHOMP. My heart strings you play like a yo-yo.

I opened the top drawer of my wooden dresser that for some strange reason didn’t stick. I’ve had it since I was ten and my mom found it at a garage sale, yep, the same one as the record. What a treasure trove that place was. I could never open the top drawer on the first pull.

Today it slid open, almost knocking me off my feet.

I reached in, searching for some clean boxers, but there was nothing inside. It was completely empty.

Who freak’n stole all my underwear?

I pulled open the door to my bedroom and waited until WHOMP took a breath before yelling downstairs.

Mom, where are my shorts?

Look on your floor. Isn’t that where all your clothes are?

Sure, easy for her to say. I couldn’t see my