In Houston

I am back in Houston, Texas. The heat and humidity is a fearsome thing unto itself. When I sit outside early in the morning writing, it is the only time during the summer when it is decent, perhaps even a little cool. But that soon evaporates like a mirage in the desert of white sands.

I started tweeting quotes from Mongruxx: WolfPac on twitter. It’s gathering some interest (I see from the analytics). I know it is a slow growth thing, building a following. But it is slowly starting.

It is still noisy at home, at least until school starts. Then I will go back to the silence that is the white desert. Where the only sounds are the wind across the dunes, the metal sounds of tracked vehicle and belt feed weapons.

It never rains in California

Don’t shit where you eat, you filthy bastard!

~ E. Sutton

I am in California for a couple for work and it’s hot gods damn it! I always find it hard to go backwards two hours (west coast), than to go forward one hour (east coast). Unfortunately, I haven’t been on the road in over four months and I may be out of practice. I had a couple of copies of my book shipped here (San Deigo), so I could see it on paper. Purely ego, but fun to see. The cover came out looking pretty damn good as well (by the cancerous testicular ballsack of the red three horned god!).

I’m working on the next book in the series (Mongruxx: Starship Umbra) when not working on making a living. But by the dark gods,  I really enjoy these characters! They have become like old friends. Some of them are cool (Griff), some of them assholes (E. Sutton), Some of them are surprising (really Mungford?). Writing for me is interacting with them, living in their world. Feeling the white sand under my feet, the hot, dry wind gritty wind. It’s hearing Golgoth’s deep rumbling voice or the sweet melodic voice of Akira. The more I spend time with them, the more they become real to me.

This has always been the way with me. I have been “reader” my whole life. Before the Kindle, I always traveled with multiple books. Now with my Kindle, I travel with thousands. Sitting here in my Mom’s kitchen in Ramona California, writing to you.

Thank you for reading my books and entering into this universe with me. For we are all bugs on a rock, hurtling through space at forty percent of the speed of light outward into the ever expanding universe. And the speed is increasing. So tell your tales in the dark, as we exist here for a few short moments, huddled close together, telling out tales.

Excerpt: Mongruxx Starship Umbra

I drink because on a good day, the world’s a shitshow.

~ Griff

Chapter 1, Scene 10

I laughed. A sound like the sun burning.

No one noticed. Not the wretched cultist Ogin that thought they worshiped me. Not the light particles speeding through space the exhibited attributes of waves. Nor the galaxies on a collision course, destined crash into one another destroying life and yet creating anew.

My laugh might have gone on forever or been a moment smaller than Planck time. Some hear it in the background microwave radiation that had existed longer than everything. The before. The many many befores and so many afters.

The Collectiveness of I. The Mongruxx know me as the gods/daemon/blackhole. Now made manifest among them for purposes they know not. Hanuman Secundus may suspects the “why,” but is keeps his own counsel. Good. A wise and faithful servant. But not one as well. More like a probabilistic function perhaps? Yes, let’s go with that. No need to break your mind this early along the path. It’s best to ease into these things, for minds are fragile things. Easily broken and damnably difficult to repair. Sentience without the body, say physical drivers is an interesting thing.

Most intelligent beings are largely driven by their biomechanical systems. Hunger, pain, sex, emotions, etc. None of that is sentience. If fools you into thinking you are sentient. That you have a mind. But within those parameters, you are not much better than an animal scrabbling in the dirt. It takes wisdom born of age, experience across many lifetimes to become sentient. To in fact, have a mind.

Some find this early in their lives, most never do. Entering the great river of sleep to do this over and over again. Billions of times around, and they still chose not to learn. But some do. Some grow through the pain, learn through the mind bending anxiety of emotions. Some fight the damnable monkey of being a physical life form and grow a mind. Become sentient!

That is something worthy of my attention, if only for a moment of Planck time. I doubt you could take more than that. Probabilistically speaking, you would doubtless be destroyed. But for a moment or two, it would be interesting.

And interesting is all there is.

Copyright All Rights Reserved Robert Day

Available Now Free!

My new book Mongruxx WolfPac is now available and it is free starting tomorrow! Please download and leave a review after you read it! Thank you!

FYI: The link below is monetized.

Excerpt from Chapter 16:

Focusing back on the exploding shells, he did not see any of the enemy vehicles stopped. They still continued forward. “Ready yourselves, Ogin, for today is ours!” he shouted. And a moment later, unable to contain themselves, the Ogin warriors vaulted over the sides of the vehicles and rushed forward on foot. The chief gunner was now shooting level, seeing the shells explode harmlessly on forward heavy shields of the enemy vessels. The explosive force was sending a huge back blast back towards his onrushing troops. Punching the gunner in the back of the head, Ucktus shouted “Stop firing!” But the gunners head had already mashed into the controls causing the main gun to dip. Firing, it atomized six of the Ogin warriors running forward.
Ucktus pulled his large pistol from his holster and placed it at the back of the gunners head.
“You are demoted gunner,” he said, squeezing the trigger. Brain matter splashed on him and the main gun where it sizzling on the hot barrel. Reaching out a giant finger, he scraped some of the brain matter onto his finger and placed it in his mouth.
A smile again creased his dirty lumpen face. Then he turned rapidly, leaped over the side of the war vessel, and ran towards the fight. Demoted, the body of the dead Ogin gunner slipped forward out the gunner’s seat and onto the floor, leaking blood and brain tissue.

Copyright All Rights Reserved Robert Day

It begins…

The White Desert, planet X037.54501.

The Bleeding Fist.
Something happened in the desert. Communication was lost over three years ago. The human military command structure is in shambles. Something is destroying everything in its path, military and civilian alike. Only a few people still survive. The attack tank unit Bleeding Fist, trapped on a planet far from home, no help is coming for them and no way out.

The Mongruxx, a band of mercenaries.
Lost in time and space, with their stasis unit buried in the wreckage of a Machina transport starship. Destroyed over a billion and a half standard years ago. The wreckage continued on at hyper relativistic speeds until eventually it was drawn down a gravity well and decelerated. Ending up here in this place, the white desert.

Together, they might just make it out of this alive.

Sam, the commander of the Bleeding Fist, a group of three attack tanks.
The tanker crews, a hard-bitten lot that just wants to make it through this hell hole with their naughty bits intact.
“The end is Nye” – known by the crew as the “Nye”
“Little disappointments” – known as the “Little”
“Up the river Styx” – known as the “Styx”
Joined by a civilian group of engineers, freight drivers, laborers, and other layabouts and ne’er do wells just trying to make through another day.

Golgoth, the leader of the Mongruxx. With Atilius at his side, Seneca the Ol’ bastard with his drinking skin and the rest of the Wolf Pac fighters, they will keep their promises until that final day.

Circles within circles.
Schemes and plans by the Synthocts that attempt to control and manipulate them all. The brutish Ogin lost in their animalistic fury and need to control. The cultists, mad in the worship of the old gods. And the gods themselves, watching all of this and none of it across the edges of forever.

So tighten up your body armor, make sure you keep a round in the chamber and have a good supply of cigars on hand, my friend, for it is a long walk following the path of the wolf.

Copyright All Rights Reserved Robert Day

Welcome to the White Desert

I feel like a newborn baby, because I just shit my pants.

— Robert Day.

Welcome to the White Desert.

This site is for the sole purpose of talking about my writing, ideas, my new novels coming out, characters, aliens, blackholes and anything else that crawls out of the dark recesses of my mind. Thank you for spending a few precious moments of your limited time breathing on this planet with me. I will endeavor to keep you entertained, evoke extreme emotional output and even “out gassing” (much like a comet). At the bottom you can subscribe to an email telling you about all the great and wonderful things I may do. Or not.
You choose.

Copyright All Rights Reserved Robert Day