FREE Copy of The Prometheus Prophecy (Kindle & ePub)

He lost her to the regime’s oppressive grip—now he’s willing to let the world burn to get her back.

After global war and endless chaos, an iron-fisted totalitarian regime now governs society from the elite Inner Cities to the impoverished Outer Areas. Memories are clouded, history erased, and all dissent crushed.

Adama, a young doctor disillusioned with the system, finds hope stirred by the return of Rahab—his radical former lover who reappears as part of a brewing uprising. But when she is captured and sent to an inhumane lab camp, Adama embraces his own destiny. He journeys to find the Village of Secret Knowledge and forge a network of rebels under the banner of the Firey Cross, risking everything to infiltrate Rahab’s prison and spark revolution.

However, the regime wields terrifying technological powers to preserve its vision of order. And as violence threatens to corrupt the resistance from within, Adama faces impossible choices. Will innocent blood be the cost of change?

Perfect for fans of The Hunger Games and Ready Player One, The Prometheus Prophecy is an electrifying thrill ride that braids action, suspense and romance into an intoxicating tale. As emotions run high and stakes climb ever upward, one question remains—what will you sacrifice for freedom?

The future belongs to the brave. Click the BUY NOW Button at the top and dare to join the uprising.

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"I was spellbound. Just reading straight through."

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Enjoy a sample from The PROMETHEUS PROPHECY

As I sped through the streets of Globalized London, a chill ran down my spine. The sky was aglow with the morning sun and the air hung heavy with smoke and fear. My medical beeper buzzed relentlessly, reminding me of my mission.

The once-vibrant streets were now filled with panic-stricken pedestrians, blaring sirens of ambulances and police cars – a chaotic amalgamation of armed law enforcement, London Global Police officers and soldiers donning black exoskeletons and blue helmets. What had become of this city, once a bustling European metropolis and a global model? Amidst the chaos, a red double-decker bus caught my attention, its large screen featuring an advertisement for toothpaste. But the screen flickered and went dark, another symbol of London's descent into terror.

“… unclear if the explosion on Trafalgar Square is a terrorist attack,” a male voice in the late forties broke my thoughts through the crackling radio, trying to sound matter-of-fact. But I sensed the tremor behind it. Trafalgar Square. I would have to pass right by it to get to the hospital.

I accelerated instinctively. My mind objected, as did the display on my lenses, raising a red warning sign that I drove too fast.

“Danger in Trafalgar Square” the display on my eyes read, and I blinked to erase the information.

A shudder ran through me as I registered the familiar sight of sun rays filtering through the thick, toxic smog that had turned the city skyline yellow. The feeling of déjà vu and panic hit me in equal measure as my mind started to race, speeding up my heart rate and heightening my sensory perception. An adrenaline rush was flooding my veins with its potent mix of dopamine and norepinephrine. I was just the beginning of the ecstatic state.

Screams of panic echoed through the streets as people pushed and shoved their way forward, desperate to find safety. The sound of sirens blared in the distance, and red and blue lights lit up the half-darkness. London crumbled around me, yet another city unable to escape the increasing terror that roamed our world.

I pushed a button on the left-hand side.

“Auto-pilot activated,” a female computer voice spoke, too soothing to fit the tension that hung in the air. I tried to relax.

Except for the strange notion, this morning had started quietly. I rolled out of bed, the drowsy buzz from the alcohol and the deafening music still lingering in my ears. I shuffled over to the kitchenette, grabbed my white pills and coffee, and moved over to the window just as the sun illuminated my window, chasing away the dancing street lights from the night before. I bathed in the memories of soft skin, long brunette hair, curves accentuated by her tight-fitting dress. Carly, right? On the dance floor it was she who made the first move. Her words rung in my ears: “I’ve always fancied red-headed men.” But the look she gave me had sealed the deal.

Meanwhile, on the TV, newscasters continued discussing the endless waves of refugees flooding into Global cities while my mind drifted back to my nightmare of flames and fire.

Then the earth shook.

Now here I was, driving to the hospital. As I rounded the corner onto Trafalgar Square, screams pierced through the cacophonous hum of voices. Cars were backed up in traffic, while people ran frantically in all directions. The sight of Admiral Nelson atop his column added a surreal edge to the scene.

Just drive by, Adama. You have to get to the hospital.

Then I saw them. The street was littered with motionless bodies, some writhing in pain and others unable to move. Blood stained the pavement and cries of despair rang out from the injured.

Just drive.

“Auto-pilot off,” I shouted.

With a sudden movement, I steered the Tesla to the roadside, opened the door, and dismounted before my logic had the chance to contradict.

The air outside my car smelled of death, a foul mixture of blood, bones, and dirt. My hands trembled.

A red exclamation mark popped up in the corner of my lenses, indicating a dangerous area. I blinked to make it disappear and focused on what I saw in front of me.

Was this actually happening? It felt like a nightmare, like I would wake up any minute. This sight was not new to me. How many times had I seen this on the television from the other global cities? The panic, the cries, the traces of the bloody corpses.

The Outer Areas, created over three decades ago in the global reform, now turned against us, with the violence they once served to prevent. But until then the news had been always far away, like a movie. I could switch it off, and the horror would end.

Now, standing in the midst of it, the dirt on my skin, the stench in my nostrils, I sensed the metallic taste of fear on my tongue.

My medical bag lay in the trunk. I snatched it, threw the buzzing medical beeper inside.

Now, Adama. I took a deep breath.