Spinner
Michael
J. Bowler
Genre:
teen horror/mystery
Publisher:
YoungDudes Publishing
Date
of Publication: August 5, 2015
ISBN:
978-0-9946675-1-9
Number
of pages: 464
Word
Count: 138K
Cover
Artist: Louis C. Harris
Book
Description:
Fifteen-year-old
Alex is a “spinner.” His friends are “dummies.” Two
clandestine groups of humans want his power. And an ancient evil is
stalking him. If people weren’t being murdered, Alex might laugh at
how his life turned into a horror movie overnight.
In
a wheelchair since birth, his freakish ability has gotten him kicked
out of ten foster homes since the age of four. Now saddled with a
sadistic housemother who uses his spinning to heal the kids she
physically abuses, Alex and his misfit group of learning disabled
classmates are the only ones who can solve the mystery of his birth
before more people meet a gruesome end.
They
need to find out who murdered their beloved teacher, and why the hot
young substitute acts like she’s flirting with them. Then there’s
the mysterious medallion that seems to have unleashed something
malevolent, and an ancient prophecy suggesting Alex has the power to
destroy humanity.
The
boys break into homes, dig up graves, elude kidnappers, fight for
their lives against feral cats, and ultimately confront an evil as
old as humankind. Friendships are tested, secrets uncovered, love
spoken, and destiny revealed.
The
kid who’s always been a loner will finally learn the value of
friends, family, and loyalty.
If
he survives…
Available
at Amazon
Chapter
One
What
Are You?
Alex
felt uneasy as he lay in his bed and listened to the wind outside. It
had been an okay day at school – he’d only been called “Roller
Boy” twice, which was almost a world record. After school, he’d
kicked it at Roy’s house and they cranked some Hawthorne Heights
tunes and chilled. Even Jane hadn’t bitched at him. So why can’t
I sleep? He didn’t know the answer. His eyes returned to the
dancing shadows that flitted across his floor from the window. His
drapes were closed, but the wind whistled through the trees, and the
shadows mesmerized him. The patterns of light and dark pulled on his
eyelids, dragging him slowly under. A dream loomed at the edges of
his consciousness. One of those dreams. Sleep overcame him, and the
dream began….
Ms.
Ashley trudged down a flight of stairs from her second floor
apartment to street level, carrying several overflowing bags of
trash. The traffic sounds were omnipresent, but otherwise the night
was calm and clear.
A
slight breeze ruffled her long brown hair as she slunk quickly to the
rear of the complex. Rounding the building, she passed alongside a
sloping hill of ivy-covered ground toward the row of trashcans in the
far corner.
Looking
chilled and unsettled, Ms. Ashley lifted one lid and struggled to get
all her bags in without spilling anything.
A
rustling noise startled her and she whipped her head around to the
left.
The
ivy-covered hill ascended upward into darkness, but there was no
movement. Only a creepy silence.
She
quickly tossed her bags into the can and dropped the lid back in
place with a hollow clang.
Suddenly,
a large cat dropped onto the top of the can from somewhere above. She
uttered a startled cry and leaped back a few steps.
The
cat meowed and she chuckled, extending one slightly trembling hand.
The animal snuggled against it, wanting to be stroked. She ran her
fingers through the fur around the cat’s neck and under its chin.
More
rustling leaves drew her attention to the ivy.
The
darkness in this corner was deep and penetrating, making the vines
and leaves snaking their way up the slope barely visible. Another cat
materialized from beneath the thick cover of ivy. Then another. And
another.
In seconds, the
hillside crackled and seethed with cats of all shapes and sizes.
Their glowing eyes shone like eerie beacons in the night. The cat
beneath Ms. Ashley’s fingers hissed and swiped its claws at her,
raking the top of her hand and drawing copious amounts of blood.
Startled,
she cried out and yanked her hand back, gazing in shock at the dark
liquid gushing forth and spilling onto the concrete at her feet.
Terror
etched her face.
She
cautiously backed away.
The
cats crouched on the hillside, poised and threatening.
The
huge one she’d been petting wailed into the night, and then they
were on her, leaping and clawing at her face and hair. Hundreds of
cats streamed down the hillside and flung themselves at her while the
big one sat and watched like a general commanding his troops.
Ms.
Ashley screamed, but loud traffic sounds drowned out her cries.
Flailing wildly, she turned and stumbled along the side of the
building toward the street, desperately crying out for help.
Claws
dug into her back and raked across her neck.
Teeth
sunk into her arm.
She
shrieked in agony as they yanked out chunks of her hair and raked at
her legs, shredding her sweat pants and digging viciously into her
soft flesh.
Blood
spilled from everywhere on her body.
The
street loomed just ahead. She tossed one cat off in a frantic attempt
to save herself, only to have three more replace it. She clearly
didn’t have much time before she’d topple beneath a tidal wave of
claws and fur.
A
large truck roared along Lincoln Boulevard as Ms. Ashley staggered
toward the curb. The headlights were bright and blinding. The biggest
cat now flew from the retaining wall at her face and gouged a chunk
of flesh out of her cheek, exposing the bone. She wailed in agony.
Her
knees buckled, but Ms. Ashley managed to stay on her feet while
stumbling headlong into the street at a frantic pace.
Suddenly
aware that the truck was almost on her, she clutched at the nearest
light post in desperation. One bloodied hand caught the post and
slowed her momentum as the cats ceased their brutal attack. She
gesticulated frantically with her free hand, hoping to attract the
attention of the driver. With her urgent gaze fixed on the truck, she
didn’t see the figure in black leap from behind the retaining wall
right at her.
Strong
hands pressed hard into her back and propelled her forward.
The
truck mowed her down in a splatter of blood and gore, flinging her
broken body to the pavement and then crushing it beneath massive
tires.
As
the truck screeched to an ear-piercing halt near the corner, the
figure in black melted into the darkness. Several cats sniffed the
dead woman's remains before they, too, disappeared into the shadows.
The first cat was the last to depart, watching as the horrified
driver jumped from the truck cab and pelted toward Ms. Ashley’s
broken body.
The
cat seemed to grin before vanishing into the night….
Alex
screamed and bolted upright in bed, sweating profusely, his young
face etched with horror, hair plastered to his sweat-sheened
forehead. Heart thumping with urgent terror, he scanned his darkened
room. The door leading outside was closed, but the ominous shadows
still crept through the window. His desk was messy as usual, and the
door to his bathroom stood ajar, but he’d left it that way.
Everything looked like it had before he fell asleep.
Dropping
onto his pillow, Alex fought to control his breathing and calm his
pounding heart. A dream. That’s all it had been. He’d known one
was coming, and he’d been right. God, he hated those dreams! Poor
Ms. Ashley. He lay there, sweat making his t-shirt cling
uncomfortably to his chest as his heart rate slowly drew down. Could
this dream be like the one about his parents? He hadn’t had one
like that in years. It seemed so real!
He
lay in bed worrying about the morning, and what he’d find when he
got to school, even though there was nothing he could do to change
anything.
Gradually,
he calmed down; the tree branches outside tapping against the house
lulled him to sleep. The last image to assail him before he went
under was that ugly-ass cat grinning at him before running off into
the dark.
About
the Author:
Michael
J. Bowler is an award-winning author of eight novels––A Boy and
His Dragon, A Matter of Time (Silver Medalist from Reader’s
Favorite), and The Knight Cycle, comprised of five books: Children of
the Knight (Gold Award Winner in the Wishing Shelf Book Awards),
Running Through A Dark Place, There Is No Fear, And The Children
Shall Lead, Once Upon A Time In America, and Spinner.
His
horror screenplay, “Healer,” was a Semi-Finalist, and his urban
fantasy script, “Like A Hero,” was a Finalist in the Shriekfest
Film Festival and Screenplay Competition.
He
grew up in San Rafael, California, and majored in English and Theatre
at Santa Clara University. He went on to earn a master’s in film
production from Loyola Marymount University, a teaching credential in
English from LMU, and another master's in Special Education from Cal
State University Dominguez Hills.
He
partnered with two friends as producer, writer, and/or director on
several ultra-low-budget horror films, including “Fatal Images,”
“Club Dead,” and “Things II,” the reviews of which are much
more fun than the actual movies.
He
taught high school in Hawthorne, California for twenty-five years,
both in general education and to students with learning disabilities,
in subjects ranging from English and Strength Training to Algebra,
Biology, and Yearbook.
He
has also been a volunteer Big Brother to eight different boys with
the Catholic Big Brothers Big Sisters program and a thirty-year
volunteer within the juvenile justice system in Los Angeles.
He
has been honored as Probation Volunteer of the Year, YMCA Volunteer
of the Year, California Big Brother of the Year, and 2000 National
Big Brother of the Year. The “National” honor allowed him and
three of his Little Brothers to visit the White House and meet the
president in the Oval Office.
He
is currently working on a sequel to Spinner.
His
goal as a YA author is for teens to experience empowerment and hope;
to see themselves in his diverse characters; to read about kids who
face real-life challenges; and to see how kids like them can remain
decent people in an indecent world.
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/BradleyWallaceM
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