Rose: Vol. 1
Author: PD Alleva
A masterful, 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.
Forty-eight hours 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 thriller.
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 coldest winter.
“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.”
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