EARTH'S END TRILOGY

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In Lady Grace, a few survivors of the nuclear holocaust make their way back to Piermont Manor, Jeremy Edgarton’s ancestral estate. The radiation is gone and it’s finally safe to go home. 

What awaits them makes their worst dreams look like Bollywood frolics.

Right away, they find out that evolution can work for evil as well as good. Going home requires a battle more deadly than any they’ve fought. 

The returning characters appear from everywhere, in ways you’d never believe.

Some of them you’ve met before; some are new to Tales from Earth’s End. 

Bud Creeman and Wesley Silverhorse, characters from earlier novel, Numenon: A Tale of Mysticism & Money, drop in from the year 2015, thousands of years before the time of Lady Grace. Bud and Wes provide needed Native American skills and spiritual power.

Shining through it all is Lady Grace a phoenix rising from the devastation of her civilization, unrecognizable as the person she once was.

It was a new world, 
but was it one that permitted love?

REVIEWS:
“FIVE STARS! A MODERN SCI-FI MASTERPIECE!
 Lady Grace was first-rate science fiction and one of the most absorbing page-turners of that genre that I’ve read in years. Author Sandy Nathan exhibits the imagination of Ray Bradbury combined with the whimsicalness of Douglas Adams. That’s high praise, but it’s warranted. The story includes so much action; tense, suspenseful drama; and two charming love stories that it’s irresistible.” 
J. Chambers, Amazon Top 50 Reviewer (#39 at this writing)

The romance industry (major publishers) has rules about romances. They have to go like this: Boy meets girl. (Right away, you see the limitations of the form.) They fall in love, with lots of explicit sex. More than lots. A terrible barrier arises that separates them: She discovers he’s married & has 6 kids. He discovers she’s got hoof & mouth disease. They part, but struggle to overcome the Awful Barrier. (No sex here.) Then an elephant falls out of the sky.

Many romance writers are REALLY CLEVER about getting their hero and heroine out of the pickle they’re in. There’s more explicit sex. (The romance genre does offer some really entertaining reading––hot, too––as well ask skilled writing. I’ve checked it out.) The industry has other rules. No one under 18 has sex, explicit or not. And the book has to end happily. That’s traditional, major publisher romance.

Which is why we have independent presses. My romance isn’t like that.

WNYC’S STAR REPORTER MEREDITH CARLISLE INTERVIEWS VILLAGE HEADMAN SAM BAAHUHD.
Join Meredith at Piermont Manor in the Hamptons! Our favorite investigator visits one of the poorest areas in America and one the USA’s greatest and oldest stately homes. Tune in at 3 PM for a view of life in the 22nd century.
WNYC––NEW YORK CITY’S ONLY NETWORK

“Oh, wait. Someone’s coming.” My jaw drops. I can’t stop looking at him. He’s the same as the mansion. Breathtaking. A huge man. Shoulders like forever. That chest. He strides out forcefully. Something wafts from him. Manliness.

My jaw drops farther as he gets closer. Also, my nostrils twitch. He’s dirty. It’s real dirt, not something applied by the makeup department. He appears to be sweating copiously. He takes off his hat. His graying hair is matted where the hat’s brow band pressed it tight.

“Hello there?” I extend my hand, despite my disgust at his grimy paw. “You must be Mr. . . “ I search for Alyssa and she mouths the pronunciation. “Baaaaah-huuhd.”

“Mr. Baaaaah-huuuhd.” I smile broadly.

“Ma name i’ Sam Baahuhd. A’m th’ headm’n o’ th’ vil’ an’ o’ersee’er o’ th’ big house.” He nods at the mansion.