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Welcome to the Official website of Stephen Adams. Here you will find news, previews, videos, book info, purchase links, and Newsletters all from Stephen Adams himself. Click any of the tabs on the lefthand side of the page to navigate.
Welcome to the Official website of Stephen Adams. Here you will find news, previews, videos, book info, purchase links, and Newsletters all from Stephen Adams himself.
Click any of the tabs on the lefthand side of the page to navigate.
Winter 2009 Newsletter Excerpt:
In September of 2007, I decided that I wanted to be a writer, and now, nearly two years later, I'm closer than ever to achieving that title. On Sunday, January 31, 2010, the very first edit of my debut novella, The Alliance, was officially completed. Although that doesn't necessarily mean the book is near completion, it certainly feels like a milestone to me. After sending this newsletter off, the second edit will begin. As time consuming and long these edits are, however, I confess that they are exactly what I need. Instead of just writing my ideas down on paper and calling it a book, the editing process is teaching me how to execute my writing in a more accurate, fluent way.
Welcome!
- Stephen
Coming Soon
Info, Previews, and More...
About the Book
When the long-term supporter of a gifted group of guardians called the Alliance passes away, masks of great power are left behind, but as soon as they bring good, bad falls right behind it. The Alliance's home of Ell begins to be swarmed by magical creatures and beasts once thought to be of legend, and they soon embark on an epic journey through all fo Flin, the country on which Ell rests, to stop a ravenous Dragon Charmer from murdering all the kings of the land. Gods and goddesses are awoken, friends unite, and the entire land of Flin is left to fate... But fate has already been decided.
Behind the Seams
The story of a young boy by the name of Leif Greggor, the poor son of a farmer that is cast into adventure by his King to save his daughter from her kidnappers, took form around my Eighth Grade year of Middle School, but it was never finished. Instead, it morphed into what is now called The Alliance. The story was to include two other characters, Rodalfus and Draden (who star instead in The Alliance) to help him save the Princess. The story was to take a sharp twist where the princess ends up a mad, power-hungry villain, but the plot was, from its very core, bland, boring, and very cliché, so I began searching for another Idea. And that's when The Alliance, the book idea that started my interest in writing, popped into my head.
I was watching TV very inattentively one day after school, when I saw an ad for a popular toy among young boys at that time, in about 2006 or 2007, called Bionicle. In this ad, 8 different Bionicle characters rode in a hellicopter and landed into a marshy wood. This scene sparked something inside me, and, I kid you not, intantaneous visions of The Alliance flooded my mind. Leif, Rodalfus, and Draden were joined suddenly by five other characters: Aden, Nel, Shila, Tidus, and Malia. The story didn't take long to put together, and it soon started to flow from my fingertips onto paper to form just a small portion of what The Alliance would eventually become.
Previews
Disclaimer: The snippets below are rough drafts of a scene most likely to appear in the final draft of the book and are subject to change, or possible exclution. Please to not copy the articles below.
The Alliance
Exclusive Preview #1:
Leif's heart was beating, and sweat was beginning to bead on his face. He didn't know where to go, where to turn, or what to do. His mask was still fit snug to his face, but it was beginning to feel heavier. He would have taken it off if he were back in the grove practicing, but this wasn't practice, this was real. He thought he could hear the faint sound of the wolfs breath, but he couldn't see it. The wolf, he imagined, was hiding behind a large, shaggy brush that was located to his left, but he was afraid that if he approached it, the wolf would strike, so he just stood there, silent and confused.
The sound of a low growl whispered behind him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. The bright blue fur unmistakably belonged to the wolf, and the frost forming on the ground below confirmed it. The Ciclewolf was crouched behind him, ready to attack, and the memory of what the wolf had done to Tidas was fresh in Leif's mind. This thought made him wonder momentarily how this was so, for the wolf had merely scratched his mask, and then the thought was gone. The wolf's shoulder blades were rocking back and forth, and Leif braced for an attack.
There was the sight of cool, blue fur, and then a sharp pain in his right shoulder. The wolf had attacked. Leif fell to the ground, screaming in pain, and he saw the wolf rear around, and pounce again. This time, the wolf had struck the left side of his waist, and all at once, the pain in his right shoulder was gone, but Leif didn't dare turn to investigate. He didnt want to take his gaze away from the wolf. His face was turned to the right, and he was staring dead into the eyes of his attacker. The wolf seemed to be smiling an evil smile of cruelty, and mockery.
The pain in his side was gone, and Leif shifted his weight a little, puzzled at why this was so. The wolf sensed the movement, and pounced yet again. The wolf's claws stabbed into Leif's unprotected back, and Leif collapsed. His face hit the ground, and he felt his mask slip off of his face. Panic filled his body, and the frightening sense of helplessness overcame him. He tried to lift his hand to reach for his mask, but all he received was yet another paralyzing blow from the Ciclewolf. This time, the wolf got his right arm.
A few seconds of utter stillness passed by, then there was a loud rustle beneath the trees. Malia appeared, and all at once, Leif felt relieved. A blast of red and yellow fire soared from her palm, and struck the wolf hard in his side. The wolf let out a whimper, and scrambled to back to his feet.
"Don't make me do it again!" said Malia threateningly. The wolf considered for a moment, and then darted back through the trees, frosty footsteps trailing behind him. Once the coast was clear, Leif rose to his feet. Brushing off the collection of dirt from his shirt, and picking up his mask from the ground.
"Where did it get you?" asked Malia gingerly, it was surprising how quickly her tone had changed.
"That's the weird thing," replied Leif, "It got me on my shoulder, my side, my back, and my hand, but they just stopped hurting, like they were..." Leif's voice trailed off as he examined his shoulder. There was not a sign of disturbance anywhere, not even a scratch. Leif looked from his shoulder to Malia, and she merely smiled.
"I believe this may be another miracle of the masks."
Exclusive Preview #2:
Leif felt himself running through a wide open field of bright green grass. His spirit felt free, the wind on his face was whispering in his ear, making his eyes slowly slide shut as he ran through his newfound wonderland.
"Open your eyes," whispered the wind, and Leif did so, only to find he was about to plunge off of a cliff, but he wasn't afraid. He didn't feel fear, or anxiety. He felt a bit anxious, even a bit of excitement, and as he leapt off of the edge, he spread out his arms, as if he had wings, and he found himself soaring through the air.
He looked below, and to his astonishment, there was no magical water, nor grass, but a thick forest of fire, reaching for him from far below the deep canyon, and his sense of excitement and happiness slipped away from him, as fear and sadness replaced it. All at once his wings were gone; his wonder-filled dream was turning into a nightmare.
He was falling, falling into a pit of fire that threatened his very existence, falling into a pool of remorse and regret. Falling, that was the last thing that entered his mind, and yet here he was, falling into what could very possibly be his future, or even his past, and yet he was so confused about what was unfolding. Was this a message, or just a nonsense dream constructed by the stresses of the day he had just left?
The fire looked up at him with the eyes of a hungry beast that hadnt eaten in months, weeks even, and as the beasts fire strewn hands reached up for him, his face became a blur. Leif was being taken somewhere else, whether it was good or bad, he couldn't tell, all he knew is that wherever he was going was cold, very cold.
He landed with a Thud! in the middle of what looked like the North Pole, but where he was, or what he was doing there wasn't yet clear. Leif hugged himself aimlessly, trying to get warm as he tried to decipher where this place was. He peered through the thick sheet of snow that continued to fall to the ground, and he spotted a large white building.
He began to wade his way through the thick snow towards his discovery, and soon found himself standing before a massive white castle, the snow falling all around him. He looked up to see the top of a gigantic drawbridge, and a fresh sense of wonder and amazement swept over him, but all in a second that feeling was gone. A loud Clang! echoed from within the giant door, and it began to slide open.
He turned to run, but his feet were stuck frozen in the icy ground, and all he could do was stare as the door came closer and closer to crushing him under its mighty size. Panic began to set in, and a scream escaped from within his mouth, but there was nothing else he could do, his feet were stuck, he was stuck.
The door was within seconds of Leif, and he threw his head in the snow, and closed his eyes, as to hide from the oncoming tragedy that was about to ensue.
Exclusive Preview #3:
There was something eerily comforting about the large ring that lay in the middle of the room, and for some reason, Draden wanted it for his own. He stopped walking and glanced ahead at the others. Rosalfus was too busy examining each step he took, making great efforts not to step on something potentially dangerous, and Leif was busy admiring the strange twists and turns of the grim art on the walls as he walked. Neither noticed Draden's sudden halt, and seeing this, Draden turned his gaze back to the ring, and soon found himself walking towards it. He reached out his hand and plucked it off of the ground. His fingers barely bend over the edges of it, for it was almost bigger than the size of his palm. Immediately he could feel the power flowing through it. He examined the ring for a moment, then, noticing that it would fit, he slipped it onto his right hand like a bracelet. He held his hand up into the air, admiring the beauty of his newfound accesory, and then Rodalfus saw him. "YOU IDIOT!" He cried, stopping dead in his tracks and almost causing Leif to bump into him. "TAKE IT OFF!"
"Why?" retorted Draden. "It's only a bracelet."
"It's not just a bracelet, Draden, there are dark traps all around this place, and that could be one of them! PLEASE, TAKE IT OFF BEFORE IT..." but his voice was cut off by a shrill shriek that began to echo throughout th tower. The ring, upon hearing hearing the cry, tightened until it had a firm grip on Draden's wrist. He winced, and with his other arm, he desperately tried to pry the ring off, but it was no use.
After a few seconds of futile struggling, and Rodalfus screaming and cursing at him, Draden looked up. "WHAT DO I DO???" he cried, panic beginning to take a hold of him. It was hard to believe that only a few seconds earlier he greedily craved to obtain the ring, but now struggled to rid himself of it.
"Hold still," yelled Rodalfus, trying to be heard of the continuous shrill, and still very obviously angry with him. He dove into his bag, pushed his green mask onto his face, and raised his right arm. A small silver cloud began to form at the palm of his hand, but before he could initiate it, the screech grew painfully louder, and much shriller. All three of the men's hands darted to their ears, in hopes that it would help block out the irritating and painful screech. Draden's right arm, instead of going to his ear, shot up into the air, and the ring tightened its grip. Draden screamed in pain, and the ring pulled him firmly into the air.
"H-H-HELP!" Draden screamed as he dangeled in mid-air, helplessly struggling to break free of the ring's relentless grip. Blood trickled down his arm. Leif looked around the room for something, anything that might help, but there was nothing. He looked at Rodalfus, who was staring up at Draden's flailing body with the look of sheer horror painted across his face.
It wasn't long before Draden let out another pain driven scream. Tears dripped out of his eyes, and the pain was beginning to be unbearable. The ring continualy got tighter, and tighter with each second that progressed, around Draden's already bright purple wrist. "PLEASE!" he kept screaming desperately, "PLEASE!" and Leif smacked Rodalfus in the back of the head.
"DON'T JUST STAND THERE, DO SOMETHING!" Leif shouted at him, and Rodalfus came back to his senses.
"Hang in there, Draden!" he called to him, and then he raised his right hand once more. The small cloud formed again, and Rodalfus wrapped his fingers around it into a fist, and then he hurled it at Draden's still flailing, crying body. The cloud dispersed, and the vapors of it went soaring into the tightening ring. The shriek began to soften, and the ring slackened its grip. Draden fell with a crash to floor, as the ring was just loose enough for him to slip out of it. He scrambled away from the ring, as it, too, crashed with a clang to the floor. He leaned against the neighoring wall, and began to cradle his wounded arm gingerly. Leif and Rodalfus looked at each other in relief, and they both strode to the aid of their badly wounded friend.
Exclusive Preview #4:
Leif froze in his tracks. He could not believe what had just happened. He looked around for any sign of someone who might have caused this miracle, but his search was short lived as the thief feebly got to his feet. He reached around, pulled out the object that had struck him on the back, and let out a scream of rage. He turned toward Leif, his sword grasped, and charged at him. Leif raised his sword and the two clashed together with a mighty force, causing the cloth covering the burglars face to slip of his face, and fall to the ground, and the two broke apart, and stared at each other with resentment.
The man yells once more, and lunges at Leif again. The two swords meet with a clang, but this time the man does not step back. He pushes with all his might against Leifs sword, hoping that by sheer force he can break through his guard and end the fight once and for all. They stand there, each one trying to break the others guard and claim the kill, but neither is getting anywhere. The burglar stares threateningly into Leifs eyes, his face reddening with the strain of exerting so much force.
After a few moments, Leif pushes hard, and shoves the thief away from him. He stumbles backwards, but does not fall. Leif watches him, waiting for another attack, but as he watches the thief, his body tightens. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees another whirring object spinning dizzyingly through the dark, rainy night sky after the burglar.
Short Stories
A collection of the improvisional
Short Stories included in, and
written exclusively for, the official
monthly eNewsletter of
StephenAdamsBooks.com
Click To Open
August 2009:
The Beeble
On the far east of any country-side, usually past trees and other such obstacles, one can always be sure to find the quaintest of locations. In some worlds, you will find a mysterious creature, others an object of rare or magical value. Some claim that one world contains the entirety of enough power destroy an entire planet, but in the far off land of Quenogg, on the east of the country-side, rests a small lake. The surface shines a deep blue, its depths too dark and dank to be seen by the naked human eye. But the creatures that live inside it are everything but human.
On the inside of the lake, if observed by the right creature, looks like a smooth blue bowl. The bottom darker than its sides, the lake sways and rocks as if a boat on the churning sea. Occasionally bubbles rise slowly to the surface. Some believe the bubbles come from creatures sleeping on the smooth lake bottom, others think it comes from a monster waiting to attack, but one creature knows the truth: those bubbles are nothing but mere air.
The creature sits quietly on the inside of thelake, resting usually on the smooth sides, waiting,
watching. He looks almost exactly like a crab, except for his shell is a light blue, his arms a bright turquoise, and he has straws instead of claws. He quietly scans the lake over and over with his tiny beady eyes until finally he spots it. A bubble rising slowly up through the water.
The creature pounces. He rockets off of the walls of the lake and shoots through the water, swiftly stalking after his prey. The creature reaches a straw hand out to the bubble, and with one silent "Slish!", the bubble is sucked inside, and lost forever. The creature, satisfied, returns to the walls of the lake, and returns his gaze to the open lake.
The creature is none other than a Beeble, a collector of bubbles. He waits day and night, week and month, month and year for bubbles to slowly rise from the lake bottom. No one, not even the Beeble, knows why he does it, but nonetheless he does, preventing those mysterious little bubbles from ever reaching the surface. What happens if it reaches the surface, you might ask? I can't tell you, and nor can the Beeble, for no world has ever survived the escape of a single, tiny, dangerous little bubble.
September 2009:
Believe Me
"What is your name?"
"J - Jamie Garth."
"And why are you here, Jamie Garth?"
"My - My husband, he - he is missing."
"OK," The man extracted a pen and notepad from his coat pocket and began taking notes. "How exactly did he go missing?"
"He, well, he and I discovered a glove..."
The man stopped writing and peered up, looking concerned, debating the woman called Jamie's sanity. "A glove you say? what kind?"
"I don't know what you would call it, its white and silky, but, you see, he put it on."
"And disappeared?" he stowed the pen and pad. In his mind, this case was already closed. The result? Mental illness. He seriously doubted a husband even existed.
"Don't act like I am crazy," Jamie snapped. "I am perfectly sane."
"We will see," the man replied, picking up the phone and dialing a few numbers. He turned in his chair, and whispered something into the receiver.
Jamie's face suddenly hardened.
"Who are you calling?" she demanded.
"Thank you," the man finished, turning back to face her. He looked worried now.
"Who did you call?" Jamie said again, her voice shaking. She had been afraid this was going to happen.
There was a thumping sound of footsteps from outside the office, and Jamie knew exactly what was going to happen next.
"I have it with me!" she cried desperately, pulling the white glove from her lap to show the man.
"The doctors will be here momentarily to retrieve your husband," the man told her sarcastically. They were coming for her not him.
"You have to believe me!" Jamie cried desperately. The door to the office swung open suddenly, and two men wearing medical robes walked into the office. Jamie looked for them to the man behind the desk and back.
"Ah, here they are," started the man from behind the desk, rising to his feet, "please go with these men, Mrs. Garth."
Jamie merely stared at him. "I tried," she replied sadly, and she pulled the glove firmly onto her hand. her body seemed to be sucked into the glove, and she vanished. All that was left was the eerie white glove, now resting in the small office chair,
three men gaping frightfully at it as if it would soon gulp up the entire office.
October & November 2009:
The Fall Air
A soft breeze blew, and the leaves in the streets scratched along the pavement as they were carried away. It was chilly, and the trees surround me were all golden. I sat thoughtfully on the park bench, gazing out over the dead field that stretched out before me. There was a little family having a picnic not too far from myself, a woman feeding a flock of pidgins nearby them, children playing football on the opposite corner of the field, and each of them were wrapped in coats and scarves to protect from the cold air, but I did not. I sat in a white T-shirt and baggy blue jeans. I didn't mind the chill, though, I actually enjoyed it.
I sat listening, feeling, smelling, and experiencing this new weather. It'd been only a year since fall last came, but still my senses seemed taken by it. I liked everything about this time of year; the weather, the leaves, the trees, the temperature, the soft wind that constantly blew, the crisp smell of the air, and of course Halloween. Though as I sat on my little park bench, admiring the absolute beauty of the fall weather around me, I didnt notice that someone had sat down right next to me.
"Horrible weather, isn't it?" the person said suddenly, making me jump. I turned to see a dirty, pale, skinny man unraveling a newspaper on the seat beside me.
"Horrible? Hardly. I love it," I replied. The man scoffed.
"How can you like it? It's so cold. My fingers might freeze," he said, settling the paper on his knees, and rubbing his hands together.
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad."
"Easy for you to say, you're practically wearing nothing and you aren't even shivering!"
"Well... That's because I'm used to it. I used to live in a loft with no heat, you know."
"Like I give a rat's ass about your past? Look, do me a favor and shut it, will you? I'm trying to read, and I don't need a freak like you givin' me his life story."
"I'm sorry, sir, didn't mean to bother you."
"'S quite alright, I sometimes get selfish every now and then."
"Selfish? I was just poking around for good conversation was all!"
"Right, right, and I'm just shopping for egg cartons! You sound like... well you don't care."
At this, I straightened up. "Yes I do! Go on, tell me!"
The man seemed to think about it for a
moment. "Eh, why not," he decided finally, and he folded up the newspaper, set it beside him, and turned to look at me straight in the eyes. "I was about to say that you sounded like the man that killed me."
I blinked a few times, and opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldnt come out. He took me by complete surprise. I wasn't sure whether he was pulling my leg, or being truthful.
"That's right, I knew you wouldn't believe me. No one does. I've been dead for ten years and not one singles person that comes and sits on my bench gives a damn. You know, I actually died in the very spot you're sitting in now."
"A - Are you joking?" was all I could manage in my bewilderment, and confusion.
"That's for you to decide now, isn't it?" at this, he scooped up his paper, and rose to his feet. "All I have to say, is keep your eye out, boy. This chill isn't due to the weather."
I tried to say something back, to ask his what he meant, but before I could do anything, he started walking straight towards me. I jumped when his knees touched mine, but instead of colliding, they went right through me, until his entire body had disappeared into mine.
I frantically jumped to my feet, my heart racing in shock, and my hands scratching at my shirt as if the man had actually gone inside me. I stopped
moving and just stared at the ground. It was hard to believe that I just spoke to a ghost, if he was a ghost. Or was he a dream? Had I fallen asleep and merely woken up just now? But no... That was impossible. Even though I was used to the cold, I wasn't nearly as comfortable enough to sleep out in it. It must have been real. It must have. Maybe the kids saw it? Or the woman feeding the birds? Or the family having the picnic?
I looked up, excitement rushing through me suddenly at the prospect of getting clarification as to whether or not the ghost was real, but no one was there. The picnic blanket was gone the family no where to be seen. The kids that had been playing football were not there, neither was their ball, and the woman that had been feeding the birds was not there either. The birds weren't even there anymore... And then I remembered what the ghost man had told me, and suddenly, my senses were no longer taken with, but frightened by the chill of that cold Fall air.
December 2009:
Remember Nothing
Wesley Peeler sat on the edge of his bed, his phone clutched in his sweating hands, and his sleep-worn red hair sticking up in 14 different directions. He stared at out of the window of his tiny apartment on the 23rd floor of Avenue Flats Apartments with a frozen expression of disbelief. The phone call he had just received replayed over and over in his mind, and with each repetition, he got more and more nervous.
Was it true? Should he follow the instructions that the old man on the other line urged him to follow? Or should he just go back to bed and write the entire conversation off as an odd dream?
Wesley stood up suddenly, and walked slowly over the wide window that served as one of the walls of his makeshift home, and peered out over the slightly glowing city.
He looked to the left. No sign of them. He looked to the right. Still no sign of them, and then he heard a noise. He looked down at the street below, and his heart nearly stopped.
There were four large human-like figures crawling around the corner of one of the many building there in Avenue Flats. They were exactly as
the old man described. Big body, beastly appearance, head, but no face, and no ears, nothing but an arched back, two long arms, two long legs. The rest was just flat, black skin, with a few protruding bumps in places.
The four black monsters disappeared from his view at the bottom of the building, and Wesley knew instantaneous, from what the old man had said, that they would now climb up it, and break into his window.
He remembered what the man had instructed him to do, and even though the things he was told were ridiculous, he decided to head his warning.
He raced around his apartment, pulling pictures out of picture frames and tearing them apart, erasing every voicemail he had on his answering machine, shredding every letter he had in the place, and finally tossed everything of sentimental value out of the window.
He couldnt watch the items fall, but merely listened as a faint shuffling noise grew louder and louder. Quickly, he dove into his bed, threw the sheets over himself, and tried his very best to relax, as the man told him to.
Wesley listened as the creatures crawled into his apartment, and searched the entire flat noisily. The bumping, crushing, cracking noises continued for almost 5 minutes, until a sharp, high-pitched noise
filled the entire room.
It was the phone.
Wesley dared not move to get it, but it didnt matter either way. Without warning, the sheets were forced from his body, and he was lifted into the air by two powerful, hot hands.
The phone rang again, and the answering machine beeped. Welsey? Wesley?! I forgot one very important thing! Your sheets on your bed will give you away, you must discard of them, too! the familiar, raspy, audibly aged voice croaked.
Wesley could only stare into the eyes that the black monster did not have. It seemed to be suddenly overpowering his mind, and preventing him internally from fighting back.
The Memory Eaters will possess your mind if they come in contact with your skin, so please, please get out of your apartment!
The hot hands holding him into the air seemed to tighten, and Wesley felt himself slowly being drained. His mind was slipping, his every thought drifted into oblivion, his memories being devoured.
Please answer, Wesley, please! They could be there any!
But the phone went silent at the exact moment Wesleys mind did. The other three creatures that were watching grunted, and the monster holding Wesleys vegetated, unresponsive body flung him out
of the gaping hole in his apartment window, and watched him fall 23 floors all the way to quiet, dark street below.
but youll already be gone by now, the man on the phone said suddenly, his voice changing abruptly from raspy and weak, to cold and strong, and that, of course, is what we intended to happen
Stephen Adams
Age: 17Sex: MaleEye Color: Bluish-GrayHair Color: Dark BrownBirthday: October 1st, 1992
Age: 17
Sex: Male
Eye Color: Bluish-Gray
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Birthday: October 1st, 1992
About Me
My Name is Stephen Adams. I was born on October 1st, 1992, and Im an Actor, Singer, Author, and Overachiever - I always want to be the best at everything. I try to live my life the unconventional way - I dont like to be too normal - and for that reason, I am probably the most interesting, fun, and occasionally odd person you will ever meet.
My writing began probably about the time I was in elementary school. I wrote only in English class, and from what my teachers told me, I was really imaginative and held great potential, but I only wrote for school purposes. Every day, during class and other activities I considered boring, I would let my imagination take hold, and form small stories of all kinds in my head, but I didnt start writing these stories down, successfully, until my eighth grade year of Middle School - The Alliance being my first completed story.
I actively participate in plays, musicals, and the like all around Atlanta and my hometown of Douglasville, GA. I plan to go to college with Acting as my Major, and (maybe) Creative Writing as my minor. My idea is to pursue a career of either acting or writing, but both at the same time so that I can see what I am best at, all the while having the other to fall back on should one of them turn out to be a no-go. I always like to have a plan, and a goal, so that I always have something to work for, and look forward to. Without that mindset, Im positive my books would never get finished. Without determination and perspiration, I would never be able to finish a book, or put together a great performance.
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Work Email:
StephenAdamsBooks_gmail.com
Personal Email:
Stephen.Alan.Adams_gmail.com
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