Thunder (50 page)

Anthony Bellaleigh was born in 1964. He has always been an avid reader, enjoying many different genres and writers. Thunder is his second novel. He lives in the United Kingdom, but prefers to spend most of his life in a world of his own.

Amongst Thunder’s many fictions, readers might well spot fragments of historical, geographical, political and military accuracy – for these few facts, and any errors, I can only apologise.

Thunder is just a story. It’s not intended to incite vigilantism, or any other form of violence. If reading it stimulates feelings of high emotion, then perhaps this only serves to illustrate how words can affect behaviour and, if abused, could create sorrow and misery. This burdensome responsibility falls on all of our shoulders, every time we communicate with one another, and I sometimes wonder if we are truly as mindful of this as we should be.

There is, as far as I can tell, no current or potential nation-state of Khandastan. There are local stories and legends in the area involving one Oghuz Khan, whose Dastan – legend – recounts a struggle for freedom. Located as Turkmenistan is, on the fabled Silk Road, it seemed plausible that a tribal faction could spring forward at some stage. Turkmenistan, to my knowledge, does not have any such splinter-faction today, and neither is there any evidence to suggest that it would do anything other than quickly quell one, if one should arise.

I am aware that there are moments of actual and suggested homosexuality in the story. I hope that these sections only come across as an observational play on, probably all-too-common, preconceptions and prejudices.

I also deeply hope that my tale does nothing other than reflect the fantastically brave efforts of the military personnel, of all nationalities, who are engaged in anti-terror or peacekeeping missions around the globe. These men and women are real-life heroes – one and all.

Skala Kallonis does exist. It is, in my humble opinion, as blissful as I describe it. Theo, Dimitri and Maria will hopefully forgive me for stealing some inspiration from them. If you liked the sound of the place, then I’d strongly recommend a visit.

I would like to take this opportunity to express my sincere thanks to the many people who have helped with Thunder. Once again, my thanks must go to Lena for the perpetual encouragement and support over many years. Thanks as well to my proofreaders, including Lena, Carolyn, Bill, Pam, Gareth, Alec and Gun – you all helped to shape this version.

I am an amateur writer and, whilst I have tried hard to make this book look and feel like a professionally published document, there may still be a few typographical mistakes hiding away inside it. If you came across any then they are, without doubt, entirely my fault.

As much for my own amusement as anything else, I buried an anagram inside the text. For anyone mad or bored enough to try to find it, here is the clue:
the first of the first, of me and my loved ones, and the first of the last, of everyone else
.

And finally, I do hope that you’ve enjoyed the story. Thank you for reading it.

~~~~~

For the latest information and updates visit Anthony’s Blog Site:

http://anthonybellaleigh.wordpress.com
/

~~~~~

Please help to keep indie stories alive: Independent publications rely almost entirely on genuine reader reviews, recommendations, and ratings to keep them circulating. If you discover something that you like, then please take a few seconds to share a link or to tell your friends. We really do appreciate every click.

Myth has been unleashed.

When an industrial accident on a tiny Mediterranean island unexpectedly pours tremendous heat into ancient bedrock something long-hidden is lying there, waiting. Trapped for over two millennia in the dark and cold of the ground no-one could have predicted this sudden burst of incubating heat. This maternal warmth. This nuclear reawakening.

Myth has returned as a dreadful reality. A reality so dreadful that the mighty Roman Empire tried to erase it from history. So dreadful that humankind would rather not remember – would rather not even recognize it in the first place.

Myth has suddenly become a swathe of death and destruction and now only one man has the knowledge to track it down...