A Salted Slug

Book Cover: A Salted Slug
Editions:Paperback - First Edition: $ 15.99
ISBN: 978-1645830634
Size: 6.00 x 9.00 in
Pages: 279
Hardcover - First Edition: $ 21.99
ISBN: 978-1645830696
Size: 6.00 x 9.00 in
Pages: 279
Kindle - First Edition: $ 4.49
ISBN: B09HSP8778
Pages: 278
ePub: $ 4.49
ISBN: 9781005697501
Pages: 278

The North American Union said there’s no need to worry about the mysterious red orb that has appeared in the sky, so it must be true.

Zander Kain, ex-Ministry of Communications reporter, doesn’t believe that to be the truth. Now, a freelance writer for Entertainment-Only news—what the independent press has been reduced to—Zander has little hope of exposing the hovering anomaly. However, it doesn’t stop him in his quixotic quest to get the truth into the press, even if it means pitting himself against nearly every facet of society.

This world turns our own on its head and examines it through the lens of absurdity. Zander must tackle the modern-day conceptual enigmas surrounding journalism. Any information that doesn’t support the narrative of those in power, are an enemy of the public. False flags fly high in this tale of mingled bureaucracy, mediocracy, and conspiracy that is part Orwellian, part Vonnegutesque…

and hits a little too close to home.


A stinging coldness penetrated Zander’s back. For a moment he lay still, attempting to pace his breathing with the slow thumping of his heart. With each breath, heat passed through his inflamed sinuses and a sharp chill tickled the back of his throat. A soft trickle of water splashed on concrete. He let out a double cough with a heave that rattled some phlegm trapped inside his lungs. His neck ached from where the needle had gone in. Zander hesitated to open his eyes, but the numbness encroaching his body demanded otherwise.


He first saw the ceiling, a gray slab of concrete cracked in enough jumbled lines to make it appear more mosaic than solid. He sat up, clutching his aching arm. Without a mattress, blanket, pillow, or even butcher’s paper, the slab was as bare as Zander’s idea about what had become of his world. His view to the front was of gray brick. Although the wall held significantly fewer cracks than the ceiling, splotches of black mold covered most of its surface. It was on this wall that he found the source of the dripping noise; a small runnel of water dribbled from the corner. To the left and right there were walls much the same as this one. Zander wondered if he was perhaps encased in a mausoleum and he had somehow awakened from his death. The events that had taken place after his arrest were a disjointed haze. But looking over his shoulder to the fourth wall, one thing he knew was that he was not locked away in some eternal tomb. Solid metal bars covered the remaining side of his chamber. Beyond them was a small concrete walkway. And beyond that, darkness.


Paperback - $15.99

Hardcover - $21.99