"Wow. This was one wild ride, through hidden gateways to a world of magic and intrigue. The world building was creatively developed, filled with wizards and lands that made it seem as if Max had stepped back in time. [...] Ken La Salle has a fantastic imagination that takes me places I could never dream of myself, and I loved this fantasy adventure into an alien land, while traveling around the world and back again." - Sherry, Goodreads
Description:
Published: July 29th, 2018
Published: July 29th, 2018
“You and I both know you know more than you think I know you know.”
The time of the uniborg was foretold on a distant planet.
So, what does it have to do Max Dedge, loose wheel and occasional detective?
This is just the start of the galactic event known as The BreakThrough, an event that could erase human existence, an event that could spell doom for planet Earth and possibly for history itself. It’s also an event that Max Dedge is blissfully unaware of at the moment.
And that’s a good thing. Because Max Dedge is about to find himself shot at on an alien world, fried by magic in Mexico, investigating corporate underhandedness in New Jersey, following leads on a vanished Rabbi in France, and being chased by certain death from one world to another and in between. At his side, the wizard Jracilla who has trained all her life for this day, thief and nemesis Arturo Delgado who is forever up to no good, and Sylvester… a very special phone.
Max Dedge in The Time of The Uniborg combines a unique fantasy experience with a mystery that binds two worlds and beyond, setting the stage for the epic adventure of The BreakThrough. The BreakThrough is set against a dynamically changing universe filled with characters who will helm their own titles.
Max Dedge in The Time of The Uniborg is just the first step into a universe of magic and time travel, rogues and wizards, space jalopies and portals to other worlds, taking you to the precipice of what you thought science fiction and fantasy could be and then throwing you over the side.
EXCERPT
Later, Max lay in the dark, in the most comfortable bed in the shittiest little motel that still had two rooms in Las Cruces. The motel sat on a lot with an abandoned Carl’s Jr. and a burned-out gas station, but none of that had mattered. Max had been falling asleep at the wheel and knew he’d never make it as far as El Paso. After a large dinner of chili verde, beans, rice, and enough chips and salsa to choke a mariachi band, Max had wanted nothing more than to stop and sleep. Thanks to Sylvester, he did.
Max rested peacefully, digesting his huge dinner, waking only when the alarm on his Velocity 3200 rang loudly. He turned it off, wishing for a snooze button (but he had disabled that feature after hitting it about a hundred too many times). He looked around the darkened room and asked, “What the hell time is it?”
Sylvester replied, “My apologies, sir. The time is 4:17am.”
Max thought for a moment. “I didn’t set the alarm for 4:17am, Sylvester.”
“No, sir,” Sylvester replied. “You did, however, ask me to notify you should I find any connection between Chambéry and your current case.”
Max knew that Sylvester would have been working on that problem around the clock. With Sylvester’s processing speed, that was like putting an army of college interns onto a case of beer. Telling Sylvester to let him know when he found something, without specifying when that was appropriate, was Max’s fault.
Max sank back into the soft, sinking mattress and sighed. “Okay, Sylvester. What did you find?”
“There is some historical evidence, sir, that the Tretonians may be distantly related to the people of Chambéry,” Sylvester told him.
And Max’s eyes opened in the dark. He’d been hoping for a connection to the bombs in San Francisco, to the gun in Leodinym, to the clock in Pentress, but…“Sylvester? What the hell are you talking about?”
Sylvester replied with an understanding, “The story is rather complicated, sir. If you would prefer, I can tell you in the morning.”
Max wouldn’t hear of it. “You’re not going to tell me you found Tretonians in France and not explain it,” he growled.
Sylvester hesitated. “That isn’t exactly what I was reporting, sir.”
Max practically jumped from the bed. “Just tell me the story!”
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About the author:
Author and occasional philosopher and monologist, Ken La Salle’s passion is intense humor, meaningful drama, and finding answers to the questions that define our lives. Ken La Salle grew up in Santa Ana, California and has remained in the surrounding area his entire life. He was raised with strong, blue collar roots, which have given his writing a progressive and environmentalist view. You can find a growing number of his books and performances available online. Find out more about Ken:
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