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…
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.
