☀ Machines of the Little People: The Eve Project [1] - Tegon Maus

Thank you for joining us on the Virtual Book Tour for Machines of the Little People, a soft Sci-Fi techno-thriller by Tegon Maus (20 April 2014, Tirgearr Publishing, 166 pages).

This is the first book in the The Eve Project series.

PREVIEW: Read the first chapter with Amazon Look Inside.

Check out the book's synopsis and the excerpt below, which I chose as it ties in quite well with what Tegon Maus told us during our interview in July when we spoke about his novel Bob - make sure to have a peek!  Also find out about the second book in The Eve Project series, The Wishing Stone.

Author Tegon Maus will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour.   Please do take part: comment on our post and follow the tour where you will be able to read other excerpts (☀) and reviews (✍).

Synopsis | Teaser | The Series | Author Q&A | About the Author | Giveaway & Tour Stops

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Synopsis

Ben Harris’s sister died of cervical cancer more than three years ago… his best friend and her husband, Roger Keswick, disappeared the day before the funeral. For the next six months everyone from the local police to the Department of Defense searched for him but to no avail… it was as if he had simply fallen off the face of the planet only to reappear at work as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Then by the purest of coincidences Ben finds himself pulled back into Roger’s life only to discover he has remarried… to Jessica… a woman the looks, sounds and acts just like his dead sister. To complicate things Roger is insistent his home, his car, his life is infested with tiny elf like creatures he calls the Katoy. He claims they run massive machines under his house and watch his every move… every move that is until Jessica is found bludgeoned to death in his living room and Roger is nowhere to found . . . again.

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Teaser: Excerpt

"Ben?" Audry called from the far gate.

"Here, Audry," I said, getting to my feet.

Roger did the same.

By the time we made it to the front yard the police were driving away.

Jessica and Audry approached us, each slipping an arm around Roger and me.

"Jessica, Audry. I..." Roger stammered before he broke down into tears.

Arm in arm we went into the house.

"Come over here, all of you," Roger said, rushing into the living room. Opening the wall cabinet that held his computer, he flipped it on. "Let me show you. I have proof."

The girls moved, one to each side of him and I in the center, just far enough not to interfere. The monitor hummed to life.

Audry silently wiped tears from her face and held my hand tightly.

Roger opened file after file until reaching one called 'Katoy.'

Excitedly, he got up, knocking over his chair, and rushed to turn on the stereo. He adjusted it, making it a little louder than usual before righting the chair, retaking his place.

"You must promise never to speak of this outside of these four walls," he said, covering the screen with his left hand.

We looked at each other and vowed our oath of silence.

"Ok, Bob," Roger said and a new image jumped to the screen.

"Bob is your computer?" I asked a little bewildered.

"Yeah. Cool huh?" he said, grinning, half turning to me. "I have him hooked up all over the house."

Machines of the Little People 
Available NOW!

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The Series: The Eve Project

Click on the book cover to Look Inside the book on Amazon and read an excerpt.

The Wishing Stone [2]

During that last summer, as if in punishment for being happy, Kate was diagnosed with cervical cancer. The last time we used the wishing stone was at the hospital the morning she died.

On that day, all three of us made a silent wish, certain the others had wished the same. Kate died that afternoon and I never thought about it again. It was the last time I believed in magic, in love or in the existence of God.

Then, after three miserable lonely years, the unthinkable, a second chance... Warwick. [Published 10 August 2014, 151 pages]

Excerpt

Chapter One

A river stone smoothed with time and endless amounts of water, it was really nothing more than a regular rock. We found it on a camping trip to Deep Creek as kids. No more than four or five inches long and a dull tan with black freckles it looked more like a potato than anything else. Kate took it everywhere. She would close her eyes and stroke it three times before making a wish. It started just before we returned home. She wished for the folks to stop and get us an ice cream for the ride home and they did.

The following week, she wished for a new notebook for school and the next day it appeared in her room. It didn't happen every time, but it did more often than not so it became our wishing stone. As we grew older it became the conduit between us. We would take turns holding it, vowing on our very lives to only speak the truth while it was in our possession, talking for hours before making our wish.

Kate was its guardian, swearing to use it only for good and only when the two of us were together. It became a regular ritual between us. We wished for things large and small, all with equal desire they would come true. Once a week, it gave each of us an opportunity to vent our frustrations and express our desire to make things right with the world.

Slowly, as I grew older, my interest began to wane. My wishes became more trivial and I had less and less time to share with her so I concentrated on making her wishes come true. It made me feel good to secretly fulfil her modest desires. The stone had changed from sharing secret dreams to open communication between us.

Eventually, we gained new obligations, leaving little time for the wishing stone. Kate went off to college and I dropped out. We saw each other at least once a month, until our parents died. She looked after me far more than I did her and the wishing stone became a thing of the past. From that moment to her last, we were joined at the hip.

Two years after our parents' death, on New Year’s Eve, it reappeared. I thought it had been lost long before and was surprised by its return. We spent the night talking, endlessly talking, and it made me feel like I was no longer lost in my grief, no longer alone.

At midnight we made our wish. Hers came true eight months later when she met Roger. I am still waiting, nursing a flicker of similar hope.

For the next twenty years, each year on New Year’s Eve, the wishing stone was passed from hand to hand, first to Kate, then Roger, then me.

During her last summer, as if a punishment for being happy, Kate was diagnosed with cervical cancer.

The last time we used the stone was at the hospital the morning she died.

On that day, all three of us made a silent wish, certain the others had wished for the same. Kate died that afternoon and I never thought about the stone again. It was the last time I believed in magic, in love or the existence of God.

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About the Author

I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else... devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn't friendly, I just wasn't "people orientated". Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.

The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can't remember what it was about... something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.

It wasn't a deliberate conscious thought it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. "Be as detailed as you can," we were told.

I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it's making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an outright lie mine you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn't be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of "it could happen" very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.

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Giveaway and Tour Stops

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Follow Machines of the Little People's tour at:

Aug 17: Rogues Angels
Aug 18: Unabridged Andra's
Aug 19: The Blog of C.R. Moss
Aug 20: Blog of author Jacey Holbrand
Aug 21: BooksChatter
Aug 24: Kit 'N Kabookle
Aug 25: Archaeolibrarian - I dig good books!
Aug 26: Undercover Book Reviews ✍
Aug 27: The Reading Addict
Aug 28: Romorror Fan Girl ✍
Aug 31: Books and Other Spells
Sep 1: Blood Moons and Nightscapes
Sep 2: SolaFide Self-Publishing and Book Blog
Sep 3: fuonlyknew
Sep 4: Booklover Sue
Sep 7: Laurie's Thoughts and Reviews
Sep 8: It's Raining Books
Sep 9: Mixed Book Bag
Sep 10: Welcome to My World of Dreams
Sep 11: Long and Short Reviews

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