Rose: Vol. 1
Action Adventure, Fantasy, Thriller
dystopian science fiction thriller of telepathic evil greys, mysterious
rebellion, martial arts, and Alien Vampires.
Sandy Cox believed
WW3 was over. But for those Alien Vampires, war has just begun.
after a World War III treaty is signed Sandy Cox awakens in an underground
compound unable to move. Tied to machines, she screams for help but no one
answers. At least no one human.
And they’ve taken
her unborn child.
Phil is a rebel
freedom fighter who has had more than his share of Alien Vampires. Armed with
The Blades, a sacred alien martial arts weapon, he enters the compound on a
mission to find Sandy. But as he battles through the compound, Phil discovers
Sandy has her own agenda. Finding her stolen child is all that matters.
But the Vampires
have their own plan and Sandy’s baby is at the heart of their diabolical plot.
Joined by a crew of
rogue soldiers, they must navigate the underground compound, combating
genetically mutated humans, aliens, and monsters.
When battling Alien
Vampires, one thing is certain…Get Ready To Bleed!
Fans of The Hunger
Games, Blake Crouch, VE Schwab, Star Wars, and Ancient Aliens will be
fascinated by this high-powered, edge-of-your-seat dystopian science fiction
PD Alleva is an
alternative fiction author. His novels cross genres, blending mystery,
conspiracy, psychology, and action with horror and dystopian science fiction.
Alternative fiction is PD’s attempt at describing what readers uncover in any
one of his books, a new discovery towards mainstream storytelling. He’s been
writing since childhood, creating and developing stories with brash and
impactful concepts that he would describe are metaphors for the shifting
energies that exist in the universe. PD exists inside of his own universe,
working diligently on The Rose Vol. II and exceptional horror novels. Be
prepared for Golem, PD’s upcoming horror thriller.
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“It’s in the
blood, dear,” said Ellen, one of the women Sandy shared time and space with,
her skin worn by age, hard labor, and days spent under the sun. Blotches, liver
spots and creases led the observer to the eyes. One dark, the other a cataract
milky white and she always wore a dark shawl draped over the head and
shoulders. Sandy was afraid of Ellen, she reminded Sandy of a gypsy or witch
from a fairy-tale.
“Come again?” said Sandy, her eyes shifting
from soldier to Ellen to soldier then back to Ellen.
Ellen had cut herself transferring a
wood bucket filled with rice to add to an already large trough of buckets. A
thick wood splinter pinned in the bottom of her palm dripping with a thick
stream of blood. She turned to Sandy raising the bloodied palm and caught a
drop of blood in her unwounded hand.
“The blood dear,” said Ellen. “All
magic comes from the blood.”
Sandy cringed at the sight; she’d
always been squeamish. Her stomach bumped, blood curled. Magic, Sandy thought.
If only magic was real. How wonderful would that be? Sandy understood she was
naïve, the result of an isolated childhood and her parents’ death when she was
ten years old. Not that they had taught the young Sandy about the world she
lived in either. They’d kept her under lock and key, never so much as offering
a glimpse or advice on the outside world. They were always so cryptic with
their explanations, living in an abundant and overgrown mansion as if luxury
were a childhood friend. Sure there were plenty of rooms for a child to explore
but as time went by those rooms seemed more like a prison than a home.
Years of neglect, isolation and
secrets were as torturous as physical suffering. And she was tired of secrets.
She wanted to know truth. Truth was like a blanket that keeps you warm in the
“The blood, Sandy,” said Ellen who
clenched her fist around those crimson droplets, shaking her hand in front of
her face. “All is in the blood.”