In Dying of the Light, Erik Williams takes the reader on a wild ride beyond the dirty streets of Tijuana and the dark things that happen there, and whisks the reader into the most depraved corners giving a glimpse of humanity’s darkest underbelly.
For photographer Walter, snapshots of the murders and dismemberments common to the drug trade aren’t enough. He aims to photograph the worst of the worst depravity to shock the world and earn his fame. He uses two cartel members to lead him past the drug trade and into the real business of human trafficking. But when Walter encounters the brutality of that world and the savage religion that fuels it, he’s forced to make a choice. This decision leads him down the road to the worst thing he’s ever done, but can he return? Can anyone?
Erik mixes savage violence with beautiful imagery to show how one decision can change not only the course of one man’s life, but his entire being. Walter’s choice and the circumstances that lead him to it will leave any reader questioning how they’d react in a similar situation.
Don’t miss Dying of the Light in TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE DINER AND FILL STATION. Sideshow Press is still taking pre-orders for a short time. If you pre-order now, you can still get a $6 discount off the cover price of this limited edition hard cover that has been signed by all six authors. Don’t wait. The number of pre-orders determine the print run. So if you don’t order now, you may miss the boat entirely. Time IS running out.
No money is needed to pre-order your copy. You'll receive an email when the title is available in early December.
Below is an excerpt from Dying of the Light by Erik Williams.
Walter had a mouthful of coffee when he overheard the question in the booth behind him.
“Not the worst thing that’s happened to you,” a male voice said. “What’s the worst thing you’ve done?”
Walter choked on the coffee. He coughed and spit half back in the mug. The rest burned its way down his throat. Eyes watering, he wiped tears as he coughed a few more times. It took another minute to regain his composure.
Whatever the stranger’s answer, he didn’t hear or care. The question, though, kept bouncing between his ears. The images followed. All-too-real nightmares bombarded him now, flashing before his mind’s eye. The women. The trucks. The kid.
-the kid. Screaming. Hand outstretched. Eyes wide with tears. The hand and then arm crumble to dust, blowing to pieces on the wind and mixing with the sand around her. The eyes hollow out. The skin on the face flake off until only a skull remains. But the mouth’s still there and the scream echoes even as the rest of her deteriorates into nothingness-
Christ, he thought and closed his eyes and blocked the images as best he could. He tapped into his rage. The anger always helped. Always soothed. The knowledge of what was to come rather than what already occurred.
Oh yes, that helped quite a bit.
He finished his coffee and considered the question again. What’s the worst thing he’d ever done? It was an interesting query, one he’d never entertained. After experiencing what he had, he was surprised it never came up. Then again, the original questioner had it right. It usually came down to the worst thing that’s ever happened to someone. What’s the worst thing one has done, though, was a whole different animal. A question that might result in an answer better left unheard.
Easy answer, Walter thought. I kept my mouth shut.
Kept his mouth shut when he should have opened it and warned. One simple warning. All of it couldn’t have been avoided. There would still have been victims; those poor women. But the kid. The kid would have been okay.
“Is there anything I can bring you?”
Walter blinked and left the kid in the past. The waitress stood over him, hip cocked to one side and her hand planted on it. The other hand held a half-full pot of coffee. She might have been good looking once. Age had worn dry riverbeds into her face. Too much lipstick. A haircut as outdated as the diner.
“The check.”
She smiled, as if happy to hear she’d have a table for new meat. She lifted a paper bill from her waist apron and set it on the table and smiled again and walked away.
Walter scanned it. Eleven dollars and thirty-five cents. He dropped a twenty on the table and left.
Outside, he climbed into the Impala and rested his head on the steering wheel. The heat was intense but he ignored it, even as sweat ran down his face and dripped off his chin. No, the heat didn’t matter. Only motivation did.
Motivation, Walter thought and sat back and stared through the dusty windshield at The Yellow Rose Diner and Fill Station as the evening sun consumed it.
Motivation and hate.
Walter started the car. A couple of minutes later, he was on the highway and headed toward his destination. As he drove, he tried to bat away the memories again. Wanted to focus on what had to happen, not what already had happened. He needed his rage stoked and his heart hardened, not filled with regret and despair.
He failed.
Want to read the rest? Reserve your copy of TALES FROM THE YELLOW ROSE today. Can't get enough of Erik Williams (well, who can't?)? His novel DEMON is still available through Bad Moon Books in both trade paperback and a limited edition hardcover.
