COLONY SERIES
The Saga of Earth’s first civilization
BOOKS I & II
Their World Is About To End
The last remnants of a once great society live in massive caverns far beneath the surface of their tortured world. The race that gave rise to Earth’s First Civilization. Colony is more than mere science fiction. It is historical science fiction, perfectly documented in archaeology, geology, religion, mythology, and history.
BOOKS III & IV
The Gods Of Atlantis Had Been Awakened
They were to usher in a time of peace and plenty for the Izon - those who had raised the Gods from eons of slumber. Instead, the Clan found themselves enslaved and tormented, treated as filthy, stupid animals. Now they must fight their own Gods to survive. But what good were knives and spears against beings who could melt mountains?
BOOKS V & VI
The Earth Screamed in Agony
The fate of all humanity and the entire planet itself rests in Zeus and Poseidon's hands.
The final battle of the Gods has begun.
Other books by Gene Stiles
Salvation or Annihilation?
The giant appeared in a golden beam of celestial light on the steps of St. Peter’s Basilica. Accompanied by a host of angels, the face of Jesus Christ smiled down upon the supplicant Pope John Matthew, his arms widespread in welcome. “Be at peace. We are here to save the souls of humanity and return you to the Word of the Creator.” Through his tears, the Pope knew he was blessed above all others.
Brotherhood of the Bike
“It don’t matter what you ride as long as you ride.”
So sayeth one of my hardcore biker buddies. He rides a black and silver, chopped Harley Softail, extended forks, leather saddlebags, fringed and buckled, with long, sparkling chrome pipes that rumble like thunder from Hell. He has long, gray-streaked, black hair tied with a strip of rawhide into a ponytail that hangs down to the small of his back and a thick but scraggy beard that shelters his sun-creased face from the winds of the road.
It Started As A Simple Dream
It Became a Phenomenon called Xenon West
Rick Stanton stepped through an archway so wide you could drive a pickup through it. His pulse pounded like a racehorse. The room was gigantic, piled high with water-stained cardboard boxes and old wooden pallets. A three-foot square air vent snaked throughout the room, long pieces of silver-backed insulation hanging down almost to the floor. Unpainted and stained concrete walls surrounded him, blobs of cement hanging down where it had been forced through the forms. A thick fog of dust and dirt tickled his nose, clearly visible in the bright shafts of light that streamed through a long row of green-painted windows.
Abuse is insidious.
Like a silent serpent, it slithers into your soul, slowly poisoning your emotions until they become warped and blackened. Love becomes something to fear. Trust twists into suspicion. Jealously consumes the heart. Life is no longer something to live with eyes wide open, shining with childish wonder. It is something to slip through with eyes downcast, clinging to the shadows, hoping no one will notice your passage. The hours and minutes of the day are something to escape from, hiding behind the bluriness of booze or twirling colors of mind-numbing drugs. Or, worse yet, something to be ended all together in the ultimate escape.
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