Then, on a breezy fall day in September when the bursts of wind blew the curtains wide apart, I saw a man I did not recognize, limping through the leaves toward our home. Unannounced, it was Steven. Quickly swinging the front door open, Mother was elated and able to ignore his appearance. Yet as I stood peeking from behind her, my reaction was one of shock. I corrected my expression before he saw me, as I understood that he had had his fill of pain. Steven did not look like Steven any longer: he moved like a living skeleton; his facial bones protruded; his chest was concaved; his hair was wispy and dry; he had slurred speech. Oh, just how deep could my shock go? However, I soon realized that in the real ways, he had not changed.”
**** Lucky ~ (Children’s Short Story ~ 7 - 12)
RANKED IN ITUNES TOP CHARTS IN TWO COUNTRIES
Synopsis: Steven finds a bird that falls out of its nest, and as it turns out, the tiny fowl is far, far from ordinary.
EXCERPT: “Very early one July morning, everyone still sleeps but Father. He sits alone in the backyard as the sun rays gently make their way over the hill. While he enjoys his glass of orange juice, Father notices that the sun rays creep into Lucky’s cage, and they slowly unveil the majesty of the handsome, captive bird.
Father stands, peers into the cage, and asks, “My God, Lucky, are you a hawk?”
Lucky squawks a very distinctive cry as if answering him, “Ke Kerr, KeKeer, Ke Kerr!”
“Steven, Andrew, Mother, wake up!” Father exclaims.
Lucky’s markings reveal yellow feet with black talons, black and white spotted wings, a rusty shoulder patch, and a grayish tail with a dark stripe that runs across his feathers, almost to the tip. Lucky has grown into a beautiful White-tailed Hawk, extremely rare in this part of Texas.”
Presently working on:
“Texas Oil Barron”
(Sequel to Moonshiner The Wolf)
And
“Night Invaders” A Novel ~ (Sequel to Monster at My Window)
completion date 2014
Synopsis: The simple community of Hilltop, Texas undergoes a shocking revelation that within the authority of the United States Government, beasts breed with women who born intelligent, and morph into, ten foot tall superhuman beings necessary for “Project O.D.” where the U.S. military train them to battle and win wars in lieu of unremarkable humans whose population notably declines.
EXCERPT: Like cabals of conspirators, fiends persevere in hunting down young girls and women throughout Texas. These clever fiends and hundreds like them had a purpose in the past: created for inhumane experiments. Doctors injected them with cancer-causing levels of sulfuric acid, acid later fused into everyday products used by humans worldwide. After the first fiend escaped the confines of the torturous laboratory decades ago, hundreds followed, scattered, and bred throughout the Americas from where human assaults stealthily crawled into the Texas region. Thousands of fiends socialized in hordes, seeking shelter in small towns to feed their young . . . the blood of man's young. Due to this, the fiends engendered an unintended new breed . . . larger, stronger, and more intelligent than their own, which threatened to commandeer their societies. At the same time, residents in South Texas discovered horrors never known before and voiced details of fiend sightings on radio and television yet were not taken seriously until disbelievers came face to face with them, them that citizens now call night invaders.
EXCERPT: During month long breakouts, Odes allow exhausted, shackled slaves only three hours of rest each night. The men's lean, fit bodies are forced to rise with vigor to continue arduous physical work that no normal sized man on the outside could endure. No backhoes, no mechanical tools of any kind, only their two hands, shovels, picks, hoes, and wheelbarrows. The slaves cart tons of excavated rock and dirt to different locations deep into dark catacombs however not past the colossal iron gates wherein thrive fiends -- night invaders.
For decades, blood-thirsty night invaders crowd and slash at one another when exiting from their chambers at a cave opening on the far northern Robard acres to hunt for children, children they terrify. Racing so quickly through pitch dark Texas fields, when their sight is clearer than in daylight, night invaders' powerful, muscular legs slap, climb, or catapult over everything in their path: limbs, branches, boulders, patches of tall grass, sticks, rocks, mounds of bark, and thick piles of leaves that fling right and left. Before realized, they cross county lines into unfamiliar towns to lurk near meager homes, to peer in dark windows, to seek young girls who always sleep so soundly. When the hideous enter their rooms and pick them up from their beds, they cart children out the windows and arrive deep into the woods when finally the heavy sleepers wake in a terror while slung over the fiends' shoulders that dart, dart toward their catacomb refuge. When far enough away from human ears, crying children stolen from their sweet dreams are bound, gagged, and roped, never to escape from the clutches of evil.
Tender lips bound so tightly swell the entire time small bodies drag and thump in pain through the thicket . . . when the fiends tire of carrying them. Terribly thirsty in the dead of night, fiends can hardly refrain from biting into the tender flesh themselves. Still bound, the innocent continue to follow the will of ropes when rolling at catacomb curves, screaming for their mothers. Then when finally tossed into cages, eyes bulge in fear while the Anderson triplets embrace each other, watching.
And so throughout Frio County, elusive night invaders continue their relentless quest, a necessary quest for their own young to survive. In the darkest dungeon-like catacomb where smaller cells imprison the youngest children, incessant panic continues in cries until daybreak when Odes unlock cages to release naked, motherly women who dash past cell after cell thereby reaching the frantic little strangers, untie their little hands and feet, gently kiss their swollen lips, and lovingly take the pure into their arms . . . only to cry with them.
EXCERPT: From tarantulas to deer, large and small night wildlife that Odes trample, bound, and swerve, scramble out of the way then bolt for their lives, if they survive. Within allotted time Odes, with inherited super-human night vision, dash through dark fields, dodge scattered mesquite trees, cross highways and roads until they set their sights on the chosen human slave. In small towns the locals spend much time in bars, Ode havens, strategically placed that flag down customers with blinking signs after working hours. The tired men seek relaxation before going home drunk, to an angry wife and their still loud children.
When well inebriated, men are easier to handle, slow responses, less trouble for the Odes. Always the same scenario, while the large or tall liquor-blinded sway in lightless parking lots and feel pockets for keys, they attempt to unlock their trucks. From there, they are ambushed, dragged away over rocky caliche where boot heels dig trails into deeper darkness. In enormous confusion, the men first believe it is some sort of joke, but as they undergo more rough treatment, they sweat profusely while attempting to escape by swinging punches. They soon realize, and endure for years, the inescapable grip of the Ode that can easily break necks, backs, arms, legs . . . and wills that sink into a joyless existence. The Odes do not speak until they know the frightened men are highly tormented, under control, finally motionless as rock-like hands surround the men's throats. In the darkest hour, a calm, boorish voice coldly declares, "If you say a word . . . I will choke the life out of you. There are plenty more where you came from. So, be silent and obey."
To abide by their mission, to expand their catacombs, to replace slaves who die from exhaustion, the huge ogres must accomplish their underlying goal: capture slaves during darkest nights when no sober humans witness them. In wee hours of the morn, few people travel roads in this isolated part of Texas. Only drivers awash with liquor weave their vehicles, which are blind to bends on the dark highways. Within range of headlight beams, the Odes inadvertently lurk along shoulders of roads while lugging their catch, that which erratic drunk drivers sometimes see with half-closed eyes, then when pa
ssing, they turn their heads to inspect more closely yet never recall, never recall ten foot tall . . . night invaders.
Literary Works by Nancy Reil Riojas
U.S. Copyright Office
Washington, D.C.
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I love writing and sharing stories. If you share your email with me, I will send you a short note when Night Invaders and others become available for download - my email is
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