Death Inception: DEATH, #3

By Tamara Rose Blodgett

"...a new kind of zombie book to read." ~ Nancy Allen (The Avid Reader) VINE VOICE

"...  I find myself not able to put any of her books down..." "...This was a great collection of stories... so endearing and mysterious..!"

From the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of A Terrible Love, comes a #1 Dark Fantasy bestselling series.

Synopsis:
Kyle Ulysses Hart and his team of scientists mapped the human genome in the year 2010. As Brain Impulse Technology came online... so did the long arm of the United States government. A covert, military-driven regime was born with genetic manipulation the key to future widespread control.

When pharmaceutical laboratories, funded by the "Graysheets," discover a way to unlock paranormal potential through compulsive inoculation, their exploitative dream is realized.

Clyde and Caleb's lives are predestined to intertwine as they cross paths, his history becoming Caleb's future.

A lone teenager named Jeffrey Parker, falls prey when he manifests the rare, Affinity for the Dead.The Graysheets abandon all pretense of stewardship, ripping him from his family for their nefarious purposes. Can Jeffrey remain who he was destined to be in an environment exclusively built for mass control?

Novella-length/106 paperback pages. DEATH prequel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T. Rose Press LLC
• Release date: Mar 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781476291574

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

1929

Margaret Maggie Parker felt the warm breath of him on the nape of her neck before kisses fell like soft rain and the tug of her apron strings loosened in his capable hands.

He was insatiable, her Clyde. And she loved him for it.

Clyde looked at Maggie, her large pale green eyes brimming with trust and he felt his resolve strengthen again to make an honest woman of her.

Soon.

He studied the lightweight and slightly sheer flowered dress she wore; it clung to every curve. He ran his rough hands down the smoothness of her arms and gooseflesh rose in response to his touch. Clyde smiled as she managed a feeble attempt to resist his advances while cooking at the hellaciously hot stove. It was the beginning of summer and jamming wood in the box for a hot supper seemed almost sacrilegious, what with summer's heat upon them. The sultry night lifted her natural fragrance to waft between the two of them, roses and morning glory, an intoxicating mix.

Clyde sighed, wrapping his strong arms around her. If only he could get ahead of the loans on the farm. Maggie turned in the circle of his arms and pressed her cheek to his chest, she grabbed one of his large hands and kissed the scabs that marred his knuckles from the fighting. He smiled down at her, the smooth skin of her hands contrasting with his wounded knuckles.

He pulled her away from the stove and toward the staircase.

No, Clyde! she squawked in mock horror, supper will burn.

But he saw the desire light in her eyes, burning there like she said the supper would.

Clyde lowered his lids to half-mast. Turn down the heat, then.

She flushed furiously, the pink blooming from some point down low and effusing her cheekbones a delicious rosebud color. Maggie giggled and ran back to the stove, turning down a dial that wouldn't make the stove lose its heat until the middle of the night. Once that porcelain Behemoth gained a head of steam, it stayed hot for hours.

Clyde held out his arms and when she got close enough, he swept her up into his embrace, cradling her against his chest. His height and breadth gave him the extra money they needed to get over this financial burden they faced.

Enough to give her the wedding she deserved.

The home.

The life.

They were locked in the bedroom for a long time, the supper sticking inside the pot, forgotten.

2010

Kyle Ulysses Hart kissed his wife's bulging belly with enthusiasm, lifting dark eyes to her bluish gray pair.

You're terrible, Dr. Hart! she laughed, tugging at his hair while he pressed his cheek to the warmth of her womb. Her girth would soon be a thing of the past; the arrival of their son bringing an end to her discomfort. Kyle laughed at her shyness, she was incredibly sexy with their unborn son inside her. Kyle was uniquely suited to understanding the miracle of birth and what things transpired to cause its inception.

He'd been instrumental in mapping the human genome, after all.

Kyle smiled at his wife, trying to erase the meeting he'd attended earlier with the pharmaceutical companies, making an effort to listen to Ali's prattle about the newest plant for their garden. The birth tree they'd be planting for their son. She'd already picked out a name, but he'd nixed the middle name. He liked Sebastian, after his great-grandfather. It was unique, like his son would undoubtedly be.

Caleb Sebastian Hart.

He liked the sound of that. He helped Ali off the couch and gave her a light smack on her rear as she went into the kitchen. She managed to contain the waddle with an effort even as her laughter spilled over him like musical notes.

He grinned, turning to settle down and work at his laptop as Ali readied supper. It would be very good when he began testing the Pulse Technology’s answer to the computer age, the laptop, as they knew it, would soon be obsolete.

Brain Impulse. It was the wave of the future.

Even with his excitement over scientific advance, his good humor faded as he remembered the conference from earlier that day.

Michael Dunham the Third drummed his perfectly manicured fingertips on the solid wood table of the conference room within The Human Genome Project Center.

He hated sucking up to these scientists. It was a necessary evil, however. Without their approval, the public would balk at little Johnny getting stuck with their juice.

Very powerful juice.

Dunham smoothed his tie down for the twelfth time and tried to contain his bored expression as Dr. Kyle Hart outlined the genome to the gathered pharmaceutical representatives and his scientific team that were present; who followed his summary with rapt attention.

It made Dunham want to yak on the table.

Who gave a ripe shit? Why couldn't Hart just roll over like a well-trained dog and take the money they were offering to fund the inoculations? It was confounding. Of course, the government agency that had funded the monies to make it possible for this advancement was highly covert. As far as Hart was ever going to know, non-existent.

It was better that way. Better for Dr. Kyle Hart, though he didn't know it.

Dunham raised his hand and watched Hart pause mid-sentence, a frown of concentration shifting to mild annoyance.

The sap actually loved what he did. And not for the money.

It was mind-blowing to Dunham.

Yes, Mr. Dunham? Kyle Hart asked, eyebrow cocked with the, I hope you understand I was just about to make an important closing point look.

Yeah, he'd gotten that.

Thank you for expounding on your research, Dr. Hart, but it won't be necessary. We have been extensively briefed as to the markers, their discovery and the subsequent drugs that will allow the activation of said markers. He spread his hands as if to say, let's get down to the nitty-gritty.

Kyle didn't like this guy. He stank of bureaucracy and cunning slyness. Dunham needed to appreciate the importance of human trials before widespread inoculations. It would unlock Pandora's Box. Had he considered what that might mean? Kyle wasn't going to be a part of playing God on the children of the United States.

It was not lost on him with his own unborn son would be inoculated along with everyone else.

Their eyes locked and Kyle stated, I will not sign off on human trials.

Dunham's smile widened into a grin. "Now that just works out fine, Dr. Hart. We don't need you to. We just need you to approve them after they're completed. Establish credibility that the drug works to enhance what may have taken evolution a hundred or even a thousand years