My Thanks To Jen Weaver For Her Souls Triumphant Review

I wanted to take a moment to thank Jen Weaver for the following Souls Triumphant review …

“Disclaimer: I describe myself as a lover of murder and psychological thrillers…this does not mean I hate on Sci-fi, but it is not often my first, second or third choice. That being said, when someone gives me a book to read, I read it, and today, I’m glad to say that I may not be putting those Sci-fi books on the back shelf!

I have read a lot of Scott Foley’s other books and I always enjoy the depth and reach of his characters. Souls Triumphant is no different! Within the first few chapters you instantly can relate to Joe! He is kind, inquisitive, and who doesn’t like a dreamer? The action starts fast and doesn’t stop! What will happen to Joe? What will happen to Alexandra? Can they survive? Can their love survive?

I flew through this book, it is easy to read, keeps you turning the pages and ends with you wanting more!

So the real question is….When is book 2 coming out?”

Reviews are so important to an author. They help readers decide if they want to try a book out while also spreading the word. During these busy, difficult times, I greatly appreciate Jen’s time and effort!

Interested in Souls Triumphant? Click the cover to visit it at Amazon.

There’s Something Normal About Souls Triumphant

I recently released the 15th anniversary edition of the one that started it all, Souls Triumphant. I initially came up with the idea for Souls Triumphant while attending Illinois State University in Normal, IL. Then, when I neared graduation, I took an amazing creative writing class and really started fleshing out the plot in the form of a short story. Of course, this eventually led to that short story becoming a full-fledged novel, and the rest is history.

Before uptown Normal became Uptown Normal, it was just a humble stretch of buildings consisting of barber shops, comic book stores, coffee houses, and bars aimed at the college crowd. Those of you who attended ISU before the much needed revitalization of the area may recognize certain characteristics of the old uptown Normal in Souls Triumphant.

This may be the first time I’ve publicly announced this, but uptown Normal absolutely served as the inspiration of the uptown area in Souls Triumphant. Though I never specifically say in the book that it’s taking place at Illinois State University in Normal, IL, the area certainly served as the basis for the primary setting.

If you’re familiar with Normal, IL, and want to play a fun game, see if you can match up certain bars, locations, and cafes in the book with the Normal that existed in the late 1990s.

Haven’t read Souls Triumphant yet? You can find your copy by clicking the cover below.

Special Thanks To Dr. Jane Thomas For This New Review Of Souls Triumphant

Dr. Jane Thomas has long supported my writing. Once again, she has gone above and beyond by writing a review for the 15th anniversary edition of Souls Triumphant. Here it is!

Souls Triumphant is a must-read. Part Christian allegory and part thriller, the story offers a few ‘Avenger-like’ characters, with two very interesting protagonists, one of whom grows from doubts about himself and total unawareness of his powers to a warrior of legend. The other grows into the being she is meant to be and provides one of the twists in the plot line. Percolating through the story, as in all Foley’s stories, is an assurance of the essential goodness of creation, though it must be fought for and defended. The story is so fast-paced, it’s almost impossible to put down until you’ve reached the end. Ten-star recommendation!”

If you’d like a copy of Souls Triumphant, simply click the cover below. Thank you!

“Crisis,” My Short Story, Now At Podbean

As her husband nears death in a hospital, Holly argues with her daughter about whether he is alone or not.

Enjoy my short story, “Crisis,” now at Podbean, by clicking HERE.

“Natural Law” Is Now Available At Podbean

If you could literally do anything and go anywhere, how would you choose to spend your time? Such is the question posed by “Natural Law,” which is now available for your listening enjoyment at Podbean. Click HERE to listen.

What People Have Said About Dr. Nekros

Dr. Nekros The Complete Saga

Have you thought about reading Dr. Nekros: The Complete Saga but have yet to make up your mind? I understand. I often struggle with whether or not to read a new book as well because there are just so many books I want to read. Who has time to waste on an unknown work?

Of course, I believe Dr. Nekros: The Complete Saga is well worth your time, but you would expect me to say that, wouldn’t you?

I’ve got a few quotes from readers of past iterations of Dr. Nekros: The Complete Saga. (Remember that it originally started out as an electronic serial and then as three electronic books before being collected into the current paperback format.)

“You will never find a more creative, time-turning, plot-twisting, character-revealing, surprising story anywhere in the fantasy genre. And you will come to love the totally real, frustrating but likable characters.”

~Dr. Jane Thomas

“Foley has created an amazing book that leaves you anxious to flip to the next page! Within the first 20 pages you feel invested in the characters lives. The imagery that Foley has created with details tie everything together and tell the story of Nekros’ past. I wanted to know who he was, why he ended up where did and where they would go next. The plot unfolds in an exciting and unexpected way, the way you really want a book to keep you guessing. Scott is truly a talented writer, I was able to see this book unfold as though I were seeing a film.”

~Jen Weaver

Dr. Nekros … wastes no time.

“We meet the good ‘doctor,’ aka Micah Vandenburgh, as he hires himself out as the answer to haunted homes. In truth, he is hunting down Xaphan, a demon who mutilated him years before.

“Enter Zetta, Micah’s ex-wife, no fan of Nekros, but determined to help Micah.
The two – along with a haunted 1936 Packard as sidekick and Zetta’s current husband, Jason – navigate their pasts, regrets and emotions while facing the current threat posed by Xaphan.

“Nekros is a bit of a curmudgeon – albeit a sensitive one – but who wouldn’t be after a demon attack? You will root for him.

“Foley uses flashbacks to provide the backstory while expertly moving readers through the story, building suspense and leaving us wanting more.”

~Rebecca Fortner

” … The book follows the adventures of Dr. Nekros, a self-proclaimed ‘occult aficionado’. The story picks up 13 years after Dr. Nekros had an encounter with a demon that left him scarred all over his face and missing an ear. People contact the doctor to come and have him practice his demonic fighting skills from all over the country. Together, with his self-aware 1930s Packard, Dr. Nekros travels from town to town plying his skills.

“Foley neatly weaves Dr. Nekros’ backstory and history with his ex-wife into the narrative. The book is focused on Dr. Nekros and his ex-wife’s past and current relationship. After 13 years apart, the doctor and his wife are reunited for a case.

“There are some very nice unexpected twists and turns in this book. More than once I was left with my jaw open at the outcome of the adventures. Foley has embarked on an epic story of demons and love. If you enjoy hunting the paranormal, touched with a deft sense of humor, and love that spans time, you will enjoy this book.”

~Rhett Felix

“I loved meeting Dr. Nekros, a ‘House’-esque character who is both curmudgeonly and crafty in his approach to his business as a demon hunter and all around paranormal expert. The relationship between Dr. Nekros and his ex-wife Zetta is fun to follow along too. Their banter is witty and natural, denoting a long though somewhat troubled history. Foley takes us back and forth between past and present, weaving a tale that is engaging and a fast ride.”

~Laura Freyman

If those quotes have piqued your interest, visit Dr. Nekros: The Complete Saga by clicking HERE. I truly thank you for the opportunity.

Some Nice Words About Dr. Nekros: The Complete Saga

My thanks to Dr. Jane Thomas for writing this about Dr. Nekros: “You will never find a more creative, time-turning, plot-twisting, character-revealing, surprising story anywhere in the fantasy genre. And you will come to love the totally real, frustrating but likable characters.”

Find your copy by clicking HERE. Thank you.

Dr. Nekros The Complete Saga

You Come First: My Short Story Of the Week

YOU COME FIRST

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You want to know who comes first? That’s right—you do.

It’s your right—your God-given right as an American citizen—to do whatever you think needs to be done. Who are they to tell you anything? You’re smart. You’ve been through a few things. You know what’s what, right?

These scientists, they’re changing their story every day. One day we’re supposed to wear a mask. The next day the mask doesn’t do anything. Then they’re back to telling us to wear masks again. Guess what? You’re perfectly healthy. You don’t have the virus, so you obviously can’t give it to anyone. You can’t give what you don’t have. There’s some real science.

Speaking of which, where do these grocery stores get off trying to force you to wear a mask? Are they the Gestapo? Who put them in charge? You go right into that store without your mask and just watch what they’ll do—nothing. Oh, they’ll talk. That’s all anyone does—talk, talk, talk. They’ll probably say something like “it’s for the safety of our workers,” but we all know that they shouldn’t have vulnerable people working there. Their employees’ frailty is supposed to keep you from eating? Not happening.

On the topic of food, can you believe they shut down the gyms? That’s a great strategy. There’s a virus going around, so let’s make sure people can’t exercise. Brilliant. Here’s some more science—exercise makes people healthy. The government has you sitting at home, eating like a pig, and won’t let you pump iron at the gym. They want you to get fat. They want you lazy. They want you at their mercy. That’s how they try to control you.

Furthermore, let’s talk about these people in charge. They think they can dictate where you can go, what you can buy, and who you can hang out with? Last you checked, you live in a democracy, and you most definitely did not vote for fascism. If you want to have people over, that is none of their business. Your friends are all grown, aren’t they? You can trust them to stay home if they’re not feeling well. You’re being treated like a child who’s been sent to your room, and you don’t like it. Not one bit.

In fact, they won’t even let you go to church. Seriously? There’s two things guiding the course of your life—God and the Constitution. Both of them want you in church. After all, you live in one nation under God. Are you really going to let some commie pinko tea party snowflake socialist get between you and your lord, Jesus Christ? No way. This is how they’ll eradicate Christianity from our schools, and you know it.

Schools. Can you believe this? It’s a fact that kids are barely getting sick at all, yet they shut down every school across the land. Just what are these teachers doing at home all day, anyway? Your kid hands in some papers a little late, just a few months, and those teachers take their sweet time grading. They’ve already got the whole summer off, and now an extra three months on top of that? Just to sit at home. You’re working your butt off, and they’re probably out on the golf course instead of grading papers the day they come in. You emailed your thoughts about that to your kid’s teachers, but they’re too cowardly to even respond.

Cowards. That’s the operative word. Everyone is scared of their own shadow. Not you, though. Just the other day, you were at the hardware store. You needed a new snow shovel—everyone with half a brain knows off-season is the time to buy. Some guy was taking too long looking at rakes, so you just stood right next to him and searched for the best price you could find—capitalism, baby. He thought he was tough, said something to you about keeping your distance. One cough in his direction proved what kind of courage he really had.

You’re good to go. You’ve got a big house with a giant yard and a great job you can perform from home. You earned everything you have, and if people are catching some bad luck during the Covid outbreak, that’s on them. They should have worked harder. The smart people know how to get things back on track, and it starts with the economy. When’s the last time the Covid spent a dollar?

You understand the Covid is flu. Technically, it’s not, but basically it is. Flu kills less than 1% of people who get it. The Covid kills less than 5%. You wish you were shocked the whole world shut down for less than 5%, but that’s today’s leaders for you—only worried about getting reelected. Let’s make everyone suffer for less than a handful of the population. The old, the weak, the sick—how much are those people contributing to society anyway?

You need to get this country up and running again by sacrificing whatever it takes.

America comes first, right after you.


Copyright © 2020 by Scott William Foley

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or articles.

Huffy: My Short Story Of the Week

HUFFY1

 

Dino and Cary closed the screened-in summer porch’s deep freeze. Each boy giggled while sneaking back into the house with several Schwan’s frozen cookie dough patties in their hands. Cary looked around, saw no one, then led Dino through the hall that led straight to the garage.

As soon as Cary opened the door, both boys dropped their cookies.

There, in the middle of the garage, stood Mick’s black and gold Huffy bicycle with the garage door wide open and the family cars parked in the driveway. The bike faced outward, toward the street, eager to rocket through the small town.

The boys froze. They looked around them, behind them, even above them. They didn’t see Mick anywhere. Cary and Mick’s dad always made them park their bikes along the wall so that the cars would have plenty of room. It didn’t make any sense—both of Cary’s parents were home. Why were the cars in the driveway? Furthermore, Mick’s bike had no business sitting there, dead center, primed and ready, begging to be noticed.

It had to be a trick.

Cary didn’t bother to pick up his frozen cookies as he descended three steps into the garage. A slight breeze whistled though the garage’s only window, slightly opened, as he approached Mick’s bike.

It was beautiful. The rims and handlebars were golden and caught every bit of sunlight that shined its way in. The hand grips, frame, and seat were black, the kind of black Old West gunslingers wore. There wasn’t a chip on it; Mick kept the paint pristine. The chain had been freshly oiled and smelled like action. As far as Cary knew, no one else in town had a black and gold Huffy—Mick alone wielded the prestige. Comparably speaking, Cary’s own blue and white BMX could only be described as inadequate.

But why was it sitting out in the open? Mick never left it unguarded. He normally chained it to his dad’s rolling tool cart in the front corner.

Cary lifted a leg in order to straddle the Huffy.

“Don’t,” Dino warned. “It’s a trap—you know it is.”

Looking over his shoulder at Dino, Cary whispered with a grin, “I don’t care.”

And with that, Cary hopped onto Mick’s Huffy, kicked up the stand, stood on the peddles, and then jettisoned down the driveway into the street.

“Follow me!” Cary screamed against the wind.

Dino ran to the yard, lifted his blue and yellow Raleigh up off the grass, then tore after Cary down North Street.

“You’re crazy!” Dino yelled. “Mick will kill you!”

“It’s worth it!” Cary hollered back.

Dino caught up to Cary and they raced side by side. The other neighborhood children stopped what they were doing and stared, dumbfounded. Though Mick was a well-liked, charismatic teenager, it was common knowledge that you were not to provoke him. Cary saw a young girl with a Popsicle in her mouth close her eyes and do the sign of the cross in his direction.

“Isn’t the seat too high for you?” Dino questioned.

“I’ve never felt more alive!” Cary roared in return.

They angled their bikes and swerved right onto Beard street. Both boys knew they would pay for this infraction, but at that moment the thrill proved too intoxicating. Whatever the future held for them, nothing would ever top the day they stole Mick’s Huffy.

“Pop a wheelie!” Dino squawked over the torrent of air flowing through their hair.

Cary had never successfully popped a wheelie before, but he knew he was destined to do so on that July day. A blissful smile spread across his face. In perfect synchronization, he pushed with his legs, thrust back his chest, and yanked upwards with his hands as mightily as he could.

And for a brief instant, the front tire lifted off the pavement.

Cary bellowed, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

But then the unthinkable occurred.

Cary bawled, “No! No! No!”

For as the tire rebelled against gravity and became airborne, the handlebars ripped loose—completely loose.

Though he still clutched the hand grips, Cary found himself effectively riding with no hands as it wobbled precariously from side to side.

“What happened?” Dino screeched.

“I don’t know!” Cary replied.

Then things grew even more dire for the boys because, seemingly all at once, the bike’s front tire disengaged, both peddles flung away, and the seat spun at a ninety-degree turn.

Somehow, Cary landed on his feet.

He stood among a heap of gears, parts, nuts, and bolts as he still held the handlebars aloft.

Dino skidded to a stop next to Cary. He uttered, “Oh, no …”

“I don’t believe this,” Cary mumbled. “Do you think Mick booby trapped his bike?”

“What?” Dino asked. “Are you crazy? That’s impossible!”

“Then how do you explain this?” Cary wailed.

“I don’t know, but you’re a dead man,” Dino groaned.

“Go get my dad,” Cary said. “I’ll start gathering everything up. Get my dad and tell him I’m in front of Christian Academy. Maybe he can help us take it home and put it back together before Mick finds out.”

“What if I bump into Mick?” Dino demanded with bulging eyes.

“Just do it!” Cary yelled.

“Oh, man, this is so nuts!” Dino shrieked before racing down the rest of Beard and turning right onto Sunset.

Cary sat at the edge of the road and waited five minutes. He noticed a grey cat leering at him from within a bush across the street, then waited another ten. When twenty minutes passed, he realized that his dad wasn’t coming. Either Dino lost his nerve and went home or Mick had gotten to him. Either way, there would be no help.

After staring up at the blue sky for several seconds, Cary took a deep breath, then collected all the small parts that he could find and stuffed them into his front pockets. Each peddle went into a back pocket before he hoisted up the bike frame and slid his right arm through it until it rested on his shoulder. The handlebars were wedged under his left arm and he took a tire in each hand. He searched the pavement one last time with eyes darting erratically. No piece could be left behind—partly because he feared his brother, but also because one didn’t abandon even a bolt of the black and gold Huffy. It was a treasure, a paragon of bicycles, and it had to be treated as such.

Then began the long walk.

It wasn’t that far of a trek back to his house, but it felt interminable. Cary had no idea how he would explain the situation to his parents, and he was even less certain about how he would survive Mick’s guaranteed rage. He only knew he would put the Huffy back together again. No matter how long it took, no matter how hard it proved to be, he would right this awful wrong. The Huffy had asked for none of this—its days would not end as a heap of parts on Beard Street.

When Cary finally reached the opening of the garage, he fell to his knees in exhaustion and carefully allowed each part to rest upon the cold concrete floor. Evening approached and the crickets reproached.

The door then opened, and, while stepping over the thawed cookies, Mick walked out.

The older brother stepped down, and once he reached the bottom Cary saw that Dino trailed. They both stood a few feet from Cary and simply stared at the grease-stained, weary boy.

“Wha—I don’t understand,” Cary stammered.

“I had to be sure,” Mick said.

“Sorry, dude,” Dino added.

“Sure?” Cary repeated. “Sure about what?”

Mick crouched down with clasped hands before his younger brother. He said, “I turn thirteen next week.”

“Yeah? So?” Cary replied. He felt himself devolving into hysteria. It was all too much for him.

“Mom and Dad said I could pick out a new bike. I’m getting too big for the Huffy—I’ve had it since I was your age.”

Cary studied the Huffy’s parts surrounding him. A realization dawned.

“You did this,” Cary seethed. “You didn’t want anyone else to have it …”

“Whoa,” Dino warned, “you’re way off, man. Let Mick explain.”

Mick stood, put his hands behind his back, and paced the garage. He said, “It’s true—I set you up. I rigged the bike to fall apart. I knew you would take it for a joyride—who wouldn’t? I had to know …”

“Know what?” Cary whooped.

“If you’re worthy,” Mick answered.

“Worthy?” Cary repeated.

“If you left the bike, if you came running home like nothing happened, if you never admitted to what you did … then I would know you didn’t deserve it. But if you scooped it up, carried it with you, refused to leave it behind … That was the test.”

“And you passed, dude!” Dino proclaimed.

Narrowing his eyes at Dino, Cary growled, “You were a part of this?”

Mick interjected by saying, “The Huffy is yours, little brother.”

Cary took in the mess encircling him, then looked at Mick with his eyebrows lifted.

“Relax,” Mick said. “We’ll help you put it back together.”

Dino giggled, “This was so awesome.” Then, to Cary, he asked, “You’ll let me ride it, right?”


Copyright © 2020 by Scott William Foley

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or articles.

Nobody Cares About Your Writing … Until They Do

“Why do you think you’re so important, anyway?  Seriously, how big of an ego must you have to believe people actually want to read your thoughts?  It’s not like you’re an expert, right?”

These are ruminations we all have when we try to write–myself included.  The truth is, this can feel like a futile, pointless endeavor at times, especially if you’re struggling to find a large audience.  I venture to guess that many of us have considered calling it quits–again, myself included.

So why do we keep writing?

That’s the real question, isn’t it?

I can only speak from my own perspective, but I believe many of you will share my outlook.  I keep writing for two very specific reasons.

The first reason is that I’m stubborn.  I like to write, damn it!  I enjoy this process!  Is it time-consuming?  Yes!  Frustrating?  Yes!  Hard!  You bet!  But, believe it or not, it brings me joy.  I like creating.  Watching words flow from my fingertips onto the page is a magical, thrilling experience.  Quit writing because I’ve yet to find a broad audience?  No way!  There’s no quitting, but there’s plenty of stubborn.

Secondly, I firmly believe I will one day catch on.  I’ve got a small, loyal following, and those wonderful people help to keep me on track.  It never fails–when I’m feeling down, I’ll notice a new, positive review, or I’ll have a kind remark sent to me via social media, on this website, or in an email.  If this small group of readers, whom I deeply respect as an intelligent audience, if they find something redeeming about my writing, then surely more people will, too.  I honestly believe that.

So, yeah, right now, relatively speaking, nobody cares about my writing.  But one day–one day–I’ll be an overnight success story.  Never mind this overnight success is currently on its thirteenth year.

Nobody cares about your writing … until they do.

And when they do, all that time, all that effort, all that heartache, all that passion–it will all be worth it.

So believe in yourself.

Keep writing.

Write your reviews, your songs, your opinion pieces, your fiction, your editorials, your poetry, your plays–write and never quit!

Because they will care about your writing.

It’s just a matter of time.

Believe in yourself, and they will soon believe in you, too.

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(Did you enjoy this article?  Check out Scott William Foley’s latest book HERE!)