Category Archives: revolution

The dangers of traveling across a post-plague America #MFRWHooks

In the first book of the Color of Fear series, WINDMILLS, Tzu Lin Kwan leaves her native Hong Kong after a plague aimed at killing the white population sweeps around the world. Her mission: bring quantities of Chinese herbs to her scientist father, who has defected to the US, in hopes of coming up with a cure before it mutates and kills the people of color who are left. Xi San, who has become a vigilante in his native San Francisco, finally admits he has the possibility for another life, and heads to find his friend Eddie in St. Louis. Each of these two heroes gather others along the way.

DESTINATIONS is the story of how Kwan and San meet again on the road, and their tumultuous journey to the new American capital, St. Louis, where thanks to Eddie and KMOX radio, survivors are gathering together to begin again.

Xi San saved the life of a mysterious girl one night in his ravaged San Francisco neighborhood. He can’t get her out of his mind, but believes that she’s lost to him.

Lin Kwan came to America to bring her scientist father Chinese medicinal herbs, hoping to stop the virus that killed most of the world’s Caucasians before it mutates to infect the rest of the world. On her way to finding him, she meets again the man who once saved her, a man she can’t forget.

With a diverse group of fellow travelers, they head for St. Louis, where civilization is being rebuilt. Between them and safety, danger lurks—Gabriel, a self-styled religious leader and white supremacist, who has organized his army from Upper Midwest survivalist and militia followers, determined to take revenge for the white man. But Gabriel isn’t their only enemy. Before they reach their destination, they will battle nature, prejudice and even those hidden among them who wish their destruction.

BUY LINK: https://www.amazon.com/Destinations-Color-Fear-Lyndi-Alexander/dp/1612712649

EXCERPT:

Gabriel loved Iowa. And he loved farmers.
All those descendants of Swedes, Norwegians, English and Germans had left him a literal buffet of gasoline in easy-to access tanks they’d installed to fuel their farm equipment. Back in the days when they were still farming, of course. Since their white skin and pale hair had doomed them, for the most part, they’d left their precious resources for the new generation.
Gabriel was grateful.
The big man made no secret of this in his nightly sermons to his troops.
“We must always remember those who perished from the virus, those who tilled these lands and fed the great nation that was America. They were the real heroes of those times. But they have passed, leaving the banner of greatness for us to carry. And we shall carry it well!”
He was also grateful for the prize he’d discovered in a dusty, leaking barn outside of Sioux City—a 2008 Fleetwood motorhome, loaded. All the bells and whistles. Even a sliding-glass-door shower. Sure, it consumed volumes of gas like a teenage boy scarfing popcorn at a movie, but he could hold meetings on the road and impress people with his preaching.
A couple of the team members had whipped out some paint and made the outside pretty, covered in patriotic red-white-and blue, flags, stars, you name it. Across each side, as big as they could make it, was the logo he’d designed. Angels of Gabriel was painted stylistically atop a long, brassy trumpet and, underneath the instrument, a pair of crossed rifles, to demonstrate their strength.
Sitting in the yard outside the window of the farmhouse he’d commandeered, it was a huge mobile advertisement that said, “Gabriel is here to stay—and he’s coming for you.”
His dark-skinned cook brought in his tray and set it on the cluttered desk in front of him. The thin woman in the flowered apron with the colorful rag tied on her head didn’t look him in the eye.
“Breakfast, sir,” she said.
He surveyed the contents of the worn china plates. Eggs over easy with grits and red-eye gravy, a thick slice of ham from one of the cartons of cans he’d brought along, and fresh applesauce. The warm cinnamon aroma coming from the desk made his stomach growl.
Those Southern nigras always knew how to make the best food; it’s why he’d sent men to search Louisiana to acquire this one. He liked it when she served him herself. It felt just right.

https://www.linkytools.com/basic_linky_include.aspx?id=296856

Can reality rival fiction? Read some post-apocalyptic novels for hope

MB900301060“Hope?” you say? From all these stories of civilization torn down, people in chaos, life destroyed?

Sure.

It may seem contrary, when real life is at a frightening point. But one common thread in much of this fiction is the inherent goodness of man. For every toilet-paper hoarding idiot, there is a Stu Redman fromThe Stand.  For every self-serving politician, there is a Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead. Even in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, which is about the most bleak, horrifying, hopeless story ever, in the end there is a moment of humanity.

I believe we’re starting to see it now, in the communities around the world. People are beginning to reach out to others, while observing the new rules and realities of Covid-19 times.  Italians confined to their homes sing to each other to boost morale. Local restaurants in my city  make sure kids have lunch while schools are closed, and surely they can least afford it, since restaurant attendance is down.  People shop for their at-risk elderly neighbors who should not be out.  Granted, we are early in the process, and things may become more desperate as it lingers on. But humans are best at doing human.

Dystopia_promoMy own post-apocalyptic YA series THE COLOR OF FEAR is founded on that issue of hope, and the conviction that those who stick to the path of right will triumph in the end over those who espouse hate and fear.

Tzu Lin Kwan, Xi San, Valery Paz, Eddie Garrick, Marie, Arik and all the others who try their best for their fellow humans are inspirational, and some of the favorite characters I’ve created. Not only do they fight the results of a terrorist plague, but they also oppose the white supremacist cult leader Gabriel and his Angels, who take advantage of the decimated population and the fears of the remaining white men and women to try to overthrow what remains of a poorly-organized government. The first book, WINDMILLS, takes the reader from Hong Kong to San Francisco; the second, DESTINATIONS, tells what happens as the ethnic survivors band together in the face of Gabriel’s threat, and the yet-to-be-released ADVERSARIES will reveal what happens when the inevitable clash of the two occurs. Find out more at the COLOR OF FEAR tab above.

In the meantime, there are many other books that can remind you about the good that may come from tumultuous, post-apocalyptic times:

https://best-sci-fi-books.com/23-best-modern-post-apocalyptic-books/?fbclid=IwAR2PzsxK_CfaoDx6O90p4cHbFm9o9N13tivbFsQoJKsRUFu11cQCacJ-i1Y

https://theportalist.com/authors-on-apocalyptic-fiction?utm_source=Sailthru&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=The%20Portalist%20Weekly%20Thursday%20Newsletter%202020-03-12&utm_term=The%20Alt

If you prefer movies, check these out: https://www.cnn.com/2020/01/30/entertainment/contagion-and-pandemics-in-movies/index.html

Meet villain/neo-Nazi Gabriel–aka Bernard Ellison, disgraced pastor

A teaser for Thursdays: The opening to DESTINATIONS, the second book in the Color of Fear series. Meet villain Gabriel, the leader of the white supremacist cult:

DestinationsWEBfsGabriel was God’s favorite angel.
Or so he liked to believe.
“He” being plain old Bernard Ellison, former ordained minister and woodworker, discarded by so many of his former associates and society. They’d laughed at him, reviled him and called him depraved.
Who was laughing now?
“Not a one of ‘em,” he muttered to himself.
He surveyed his current quarters, finding them lacking. The South Dakota farmhouse had been built more than a hundred years before. It creaked, its bones old and tired. Its white paint peeled and flaked away in the dusty wind like a heavy winter snow. Its chairs and thin cotton curtains smelled of mildew and mold. Dust coated the windowpanes and any surface that remained bare.
He’d been better provisioned in the survival bunker back in Great Falls, with its years’ worth of food, water and supplies to feed him and the rest of his Angels. They hid in safety, waiting out the worst of the Second Holocaust that had wiped out the majority of the white men and women in the country, then the world. Waiting till the air was clean, and he could breathe free again.
They’d done it, those crazy Ay-rab bastards. Them and the Asians that had given the terrorists the ship to bring that poison ‘cross the ocean. They’d come down on these United States of America and destroyed it all.
Six months he’d waited underground, constantly monitoring the airwaves for signs of recovery.
When news never came, he’d sent men out to test the situation. Once they started coming back alive, he’d decided it was safe.
Outside, he’d discovered vast tracts of Montana abandoned. He’d claimed it. Then, as he gathered more people, he moved them on through South Dakota, claiming more land.
Some “claiming” was easier than others. Several times, they’d found people of color—brown, red or yellow—on the land that had been given by God to white people. Gabriel had…persuaded…them to move along. Some went voluntarily; others became food for carrion birds.
So many towns and cities they found empty. Millions had died in the Second Holocaust. Millions.
But Gabriel had survived.
He knew he’d been spared for a reason.
Pausing by the window to survey his flock at work, Gabriel was pleased. They scurried about, maintaining the trucks, sorting equipment, obedient to their orders. His orders.
Daddy always said I wouldn’t amount to much.
A memory of his father—worn striped overalls, his weary gray eyes—came to mind. A small farmer living north of Atlanta, Frank Ellison had borrowed and borrowed to survive the droughts, the floods, until the bank had taken the farm. His father and mother had moved to the city, where his mother cleaned rooms at the Motel 6. Daddy just sat and stared out the window, imagining those green fields that would never be his again.
“Look how much land I have now, Daddy,” Gabriel whispered. “Are you proud of me yet? I’ll make you proud. I will.”

BUY LINKS:

Amazon   Barnes and Noble     Zumaya Publications

Come meet Temms Rogers from the Horizon Crossover series!

Thanks so much for hosting me at Romance Lives Forever, Kayelle Allen!!

Introducing Temms Rogers from Horizon Crossover series, by Lyndi Alexander #RLFblog #spaceopera #SciFi

 

And if you haven’t seen it yet, check out the series trailer!

 

When push comes to shove, resistance turns to revolution–are we ready?

bab5Recently Amazon Prime started showing the series BABYLON 5. For those who haven’t seen it, it’s a critically acclaimed science fiction show from the 1990s, written primarily by J. Michael Straczynski, (of SENSE8 fame).

From IMDB: In the year 2258, it is ten years after the Earth-Minbari War. Commander Sinclair takes command of a giant five-mile-long cylindrical space station, orbiting a planet in neutral space. At a crossroads of interstellar commerce and diplomacy, Cmdr Sinclair (2d season Captain Sheridan) must try to establish peace and prosperity between various interstellar empires, all the while fighting forces from within the Earth Alliance. It is a precarious command, particularly given that sabotage led to the destruction of Babylon stations 1, 2, and 3 and 4 vanished without a trace.

 

I didn’t watch it first time around for some reason, and I’ve picked up bits and pieces of it in reruns over the years. But I’m finally watching it in toto, and getting some really wild vibes, considering our current political situation.
So, early in the series, a president of Earth (which is apparently under one government in 2258) comes to power through questionable means.  He puts his friends in positions of power. He starts a campaign against aliens. When he begins receiving criticism, he starts a program called Nightwatch, where citizens are encouraged to spy on each other and turn neighbors and friends in for “unpatriotic” speech. He co-opts the media, drowning out any source that is not complimentary to him. He sets up a Ministry of Peace, which is headed by a gung-ho sycophant who, I swear, is the mold from which Kellyanne Conway is made.

As the series continues through assorted alien crises and other wars, we keep comingb52 back to the corrupt presidency. Eventually our B5 heroes stand up to the ridiculousness, violence and flat-out lawlessness on Earth and lead a revolution.

Watching it. it seems to me that those of us wanting to take our country back, and frustrated by the slow pace of the investigations (tho not their ongoing indictments) might take a lesson from this narrative. Captain Sheridan finally  breaks his wait-and-watch stance when the president orders the destruction of a ship full of 10,000 refugees. Were we less shocked at the immigration debacle, the caged children and deported parents? Or perhaps the destruction of all the protections that have been hard-won by previous administrations for our air and water? Or the even harder-fought laws that give our citizens equal rights to conduct business, marry and drink from water fountains? How much are we willing to stand?

It’s worth a watch, whether you’re a sci-fi fan or not, with lessons in moral judgment and the reminder that following illegal and immoral orders is not mandatory. We don’t have to quietly go along the path into that good night. Other characters urge waiting to handle the problem through the vote, through political manipulations and other methods. But Sheridan and his team choose resistance and finally open revolt. Where do you stand?

b53

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