The Lonesome Road is on sale!

My first book, the Lonesome Road is on sale at Amazon for a limited time! If you are looking for a great gift or perhaps a new read for yourself I recommend this gripping tale of mystery, where you will not see the answers that lay directly in front, with the twists and turns, this tale will surprise you. Other versions are on sale as well.

🇬🇧https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/d/1990158226/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1667564728&sr=8-11
🇺🇸https://www.amazon.com/dp/1990158226?&linkCode=sl1&tag=5310pub0d-20&linkId=29cdbed4ccc8b6b0ca2e7ce900567c47&language=en_US&ref_=as_li_ss_tl
🇨🇦https://www.amazon.ca/dp/1990158226?&linkCode=sl1&tag=5310pub04-20&linkId=8e83de62e1ee5d17b7a7e3ef7cc5ded5&language=en_CA&ref_=as_li_ss_tl
🇦🇺https://www.amazon.com.au/Lonesome-Road-Harisson-Shaws/dp/1990158226/

Looking for the last remains of human life, a lonesome wanderer must find his identity and the reason for his journey.

The fallen Earth holds secrets, an ancient war that will show him he is not alone. With old forgotten feelings of mistrust and sorrow, the Wanderer will have to navigate his path and remember his past.

The journey is long, filled with thorns and friendly people with hidden agendas. And unfortunately, not all have his best interest at heart.

The Wanderer will have to stay neutral and true to his path if he wants to uncover the truth. But all things come with a price, and the cost might be his soul.


—–

Life as we know is gone. The once vivid city now stands abandoned. Earth became a wasteland, stripped of all life. Broken, confused, and in a desperate search for answers, one person still roams its desolate remains.

The Wanderer has no memories, no recollection of the events that led to the end of the world. All he sees are deserted buildings and the smoke that covers the sun.

While taking shelter in an abandoned house one night, the last man on Earth gets a knock on his door. He finds an unexpected guide in a woman who feels familiar.

Will he choose to keep traversing these lands, lost as before, or will he take her guidance to find the answers his heart so deeply desires?

The Lonesome Road (Trailer #3)

I always have fun making these, so here it is, the third in a row of my attempts to make a decent trailer. I know it ain’t perfect, but hey I am improving.

For more check out my YouTube channel: https://youtu.be/YUAJCYr8LHs

If you want to find out more about the book or to order a copy for yourself, click the link below: https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

Life as we know is gone. The once vivid city now stands abandoned. Earth became a wasteland, stripped of all life. Broken, confused, and in a desperate search for answers, one person still roams its desolate remains.


The Wanderer has no memories, no recollection of the events that led to the end of the world. All he sees are deserted buildings and the smoke that covers the sun.


While taking shelter in an abandoned house one night, the last man on Earth gets a knock on his door. He finds an unexpected guide in a woman who feels familiar.


Will he choose to keep traversing these lands, lost as before, or will he take her guidance to find the answers his heart so deeply desires?

The Lonesome Road (Trailer #2)

The Lonesome Road is out! Here is trailer number two for it! If you want to find out more about the book or order a copy click on the link below!

https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

The world is barren and lost. Only the buildings that cast tall shadows remain as the street stand silent, ridden of all human life. But one man still walks, with no knowledge to what happened to the world, the people in it or him. To find the answers he is searching for, the Wanderer must walk a Path that will determine his own fate. One night, while seeking shelter in an abandoned house, the last man on Earth gets a knock on his door.

Is evil just evil? Is good merely good? Or are those sides just a matter of perspective? All people have an agenda, all people search for hope, but only the few have the strength to live it!

The Path exacts a heavy toll, be careful as the price of walking it may be your soul.

The Lonesome Road(AMA)- Meet the Wanderer

The Wanderer himself is a representation of one’s lost mind, one whole piece what we all possess. There is a reason why the Wanderer is faceless, practically nameless for a reason. To make a blank looking character, with the problems of many, was my intention in the first place for one specific reason. So each and every one of you who read the story can easily put themselves in his place, as all who struggle with depression, lost identity and the anxious feeling of carrying the burden that crushes our soul, will find it easy to connect with such character.

I walked alone. Through the shadows that the tall buildings cast, like giants watching over the once vivid and song-full city, but now just as a reminder of some past times, they stand tall, relics of an ancient order, such as I am myself. Those buildings and the entire world which surrounded me felt new yet familiar. I couldn’t feel a cold breeze on my skin. No winds moved the hollow now trees, stripped bare of its leaves, as once not so long ago did. The jungle of concrete and metal once felt like an anthill, buzzing of life, souls rushing on, minding only the empty task of the day they had. But now, no sound can be heard but the eternal silence that fills these streets, flowing throughout my veins, which pump that sorrowful blood all the way up to the heart, leaving it feeling bare, alone, stripped, and wasted. I march on, in search of laughter, shout, even a slight remark of a whisper which I grew to miss so dearly. I have been walking for so long; time seems to have stopped, pulling everything in one place, even myself in one way or another. I have been walking for so long, missing things I have held for granted. The simple hello from a stranger, a warm embrace of a loved one, or even just a sight of a curious passerby. One fearful thought keeps on rushing through my brain even though I quickly dismiss her. Thinking of some better times, I find myself faced with the ugly truth…I might be the last one.
No one knows or remembers what happened exactly. Maybe we neglected the home we were given, and our mother finally rebelled against us, punishing us for our misbehaving and sins done over the last long years to her. Or perhaps we were betrayed by our own greed and fear, looking over our shoulder, valuing the life of our fellow man less and less, until we decided to grasp for something that wasn’t ours for the taking and putting the final stroke on our neighbor. No one knows what exactly happened. All that matters now is that the world fell silent so long ago, the song of billions that sang in many different tunes can’t be heard anymore, the night ceiling that connected us seems to swallow the once peaceful place, and the fire that warmed us, not just around, but also in our hearts, seems to be extinguished by none other than ourselves. Who knows what happened, but one thing is certain, we brought this misfortune upon ourselves, a band of mortal man, when did we think of ourselves as gods?” (The Lonesome Road, Chapter 1- The Lone Wanderer)


Ridden of all memory, he starts his journey. Even if he has no recollection of the events that unfolded, leaving this world barren and without human life, he feels the emptiness inside, a reflection of the world that surrounds him. But one thing is for sure, there are eyes on our broken protagonist. One night, seeking shelter, the last man gets a knock on a door. Behind it, stands destiny, a woman he does not recognise, yet like a friend not seen in ages, she feels familiar. But hesitation came up, holding his heart, as the woman’s motives became bit more clear, our hero must decide is she really the benevolent good she claims to be, or is the evil that resides in this world the same as the woman?




“All things that begin must have an ending to them…”
I tried my best to put out some words of comfort.
“It’s simply the law of life, time. But that does not mean we have to live in constant fear and worry about the end, knowing it’s life’s only certainty. It’s destiny.”
I stayed in my sitting position, not breaking the gaze from the fire, but could hear the old bed move under her as she changed position, probably to stand even closer to me.
“What do you mean it’s destiny? Now you’re talking nonsense. How can the fact that being OK with dying and making your peace with it be destiny?”
Her voice changed as well as her position. It didn’t resemble the sweet, soft, mellow voice she usually had, even in fear and under pressure. Now it began to sound edgier, tense as if she was annoyed with my words and the view I had at the world. “It is destiny,” I answered back coldly,
“You see people see destiny as a path that branches up from one to a million, thousand… A force that constantly intervenes, depriving us of our fundamental right to choose. How many times have you wanted to do something, and during or at the end of it, it goes wrong, and you figure out it was destiny that made you fail or end up there where you didn’t want or think you would end up in the first place? People often use it as an excuse for their failures or as an excuse for a weight that keeps them in one place for too long. Talking and saying it must have been destiny that wanted them to fail or stay at the bottom of the barrel for too long. It’s not destiny that keeps them from going forward. It’s themselves. And all of it is nothing more than an excuse for their own miserable failures.” (The Lonesome Road, Chapter 3- The Road Ahead)

Destiny. Are we that afraid of a concept that an invisible hand guides our life, that our choices never mattered? Or do they? What if destiny is like a river, with multiple paths and every decision we make takes us to a different destination? What if our choices mattered and there never was one destiny that was predetermined for one being? As what can we do, but believe in our Path, jump in that river and hope the destination is as comfortable as it gets. This book explores the human nature, our understanding of life, fate, destiny and balance.

The Lonesome Road is out tomorrow, you can get it, the link will be below. If you have any questions for me, please do ask, even if it’s just to say hi. I am excited to bring you this book, I hope everyone finds something for themselves in it.

I’ll answer any questions you may have, looking forward for tomorrow, love to you all!

“The Lonesome Road” is out on the 24th of May 2022. But for those eager to get it a bit earlier you can preorder it from the 5310publishing site :
https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

For more information follow and check out 5310 Publishing:

5310 Publishing website: https://www.5310publishing.com/

5310 Publishing Twitter: https://twitter.com/5310Publishing?t=xOuOEzNP3Ci96_5C9QaBug&s=09

5310 Publishing Instagram: https://instagram.com/5310publishing?utm_medium=copy_link

“The Lonesome Road” is 25% off in Barns & Noble

My new supernatural dystopian fiction, The Lonesome Road, is now available for preorder! And now you can preorder it from Barns & Noble for 25% off using the code PREORDER25 for a limited time only!

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-lonesome-road-harisson-shaws/1141004786?ean=9781990158223



👉 About The Lonesome Road:
Earth became a wasteland, stripped of all life. Broken, confused, and in a desperate search for answers, one person still roams its desolate remains.

The Wanderer has no memories, no recollection of the events that led to the end of the world. All he sees are deserted buildings and the smoke that covers the sun. While taking shelter in an abandoned house one night, the last man on Earth gets a knock on his door. He finds an unexpected guide in a woman who feels familiar.

Will he choose to keep traversing these lands, lost as before, or will he take her guidance to find the answers his heart so deeply desires? Are we truly free, or is destiny pulling the strings of our life choices?

A big thanks to 5310publishing for making it all possible!

You can also preorder it from their website:
https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

For more information follow and check out 5310 Publishing:

5310 Publishing website: https://www.5310publishing.com/


5310 Publishing Twitter:  https://twitter.com/5310Publishing?t=xOuOEzNP3Ci96_5C9QaBug&s=09

5310 Publishing Instagram: https://instagram.com/5310publishing?utm_medium=copy_link

Book announcement / Cover reveal: “The Lonesome Road”

While I am working on new poems and projects that I will bring to this blog, right now words could not describe the happiness I feel, as I am proud to announce and reveal the cover for my upcoming book “The Lonesome Road ” .

Thanks to the amazing people at 5310 Publishing, this dream of mine is becoming a reality. The moment I laid my eyes on the cover I was speechless, you know the feeling like you are not really aware something is happening until it really happens?

This really lifted my spirits, especially after the ending of the last year which was soul crushing ( another blog post is coming about that so stay tuned) , so starting the year with this really warmed my heart. I couldn’t be more happy to share the story of the Lone Wanderer with you, for you all to see his journey and growth.

For more information on the book, see the links below!



What is the “Lonesome Road” about?

I will try to be less vague and spoiler free. “The Lonesome Road ” follows the last man on Earth, as the world is barren and abandoned, ridden of all life, one man remains, roaming through the remains. He has no memory of the events that led to the end of his home, what happened to his fellow humans or even the basic knowledge of himself. So it is up to him to find the answers that wish to remain hidden, tackle with the questions that led to the world’s demise and find the hidden truth that his heart desires. But he must be careful, as the answers he seeks, the price might be his soul.


So what is next?

If you are interested, I would like to ask you to follow the great people at 5310 Publishing, stay tuned for more information and be ready when the book goes for pre-order. I would like to use this opportunity to say a huge thank you to the amazing people at 5310 Publishing, for making my dream a reality, thank you for giving me a voice to speak the words that lingered in my head and heart for ages. Thank you to the beautiful people who supported me, read the blog and posts, commented and liked the poems that started as a way of letting some steam out and turned into a proper passion. Being a writer is something I dreamt from an early age and right now thanks to you all, it is becoming a reality.
Thank you and love to all.

Harisson Shaws.

For more information follow and check out 5310 Publishing:

5310 Publishing website: https://www.5310publishing.com/

5310 Publishing Twitter: https://twitter.com/5310Publishing?t=xOuOEzNP3Ci96_5C9QaBug&s=09

5310 Publishing Instagram: https://instagram.com/5310publishing?utm_medium=copy_link

For the dream I dare to hope

Calm, I keep my peace.
Serenity, a moment untouched,
Untainted by the sanity of life,
Protected from the poison of heartbreak.

Divided, my fickle mind stands,
Pulled on the side of slumber.
Awaken, I dream,
Worlds of love and plunder.

If the dreamers of the day,
Are dangerous as they say,
Then for a reason good I fear my mind,
For the sweet embrace it cries.

Then again sleep eludes me,
Fearful of what I might find,
As the dreams I get awake,
Even those ones make me cry.

POW: The hard part of fitting in

Recently someone told me I take this too seriously,  that I post too much stuff, work too hard on new material. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps in this new and still very uncharted waters I foolishly try to overcompensate the lack of my experience by doing more, always more. I push myself to the extreme, because when in that rare occurrence when I invest myself I always go to the far extreme, writing till early hours on the new book, preparing new materials for the site and getting the lack of sleep and energy for it after I push myself to the breaking point just to be sometimes disappointed by the lack of even response. When did I start to do things for the occasional like? I forgot the very essence of writing, the one rule, THE rule… don’t write for people, write for yourself. But not saying in some kind of manner that I am not enjoying my writing or that I do not agree with my written words. No! I am merely saying is it OK to push yourself to that ledge just because we feel or tend to think we would be more happier if we immediately “make it”? Why is it that we push that burden of stress on our back that we have to be cemented in a new endeavour as soon as we set sail in it? Is it just fear? Or perhaps is it more? Fear of failure? Perhaps… Or our own shame that we won’t be just good enough as we would like. Perhaps I tend to do things bit more extremely just because I feel like if I don’t do all at once, push myself to the max, I won’t be good. But in the process of burning out I feel like losing the one unique strain every writer leaves in his work that makes it special.

The one in the friend group

Ever been that one person in the friend group who just want to talk about writing and books? And when you do they look at your like OK weirdo don’t be boring and they immediately switch the topic? Damn I need some new mates… But all jokes aside I love them, but there are instant moments of hate, especially when they introduce me to new people. Mind you I am an introvert, true and true, but what makes the situation more difficult is when they say something in the line of “Yea, he is writing stuff…” Whoever was introduced to someone as any form of a writer you know the question that comes after. “Nice, so what do you write about?” No one, and I mean no one, in their sane mind is standing there while you narrate your whole WIP. They expect a quick summary of two sentences where you have to jam in the twist, total character motivation and growth, getting them hooked in right in those two minutes. Honestly when put in that situation I feel like I am live querying. If they don’t think I am weird by that point they will when I start blabbering about my work for a hour.

All fantasy based on real life?

One of the things I heard and a thing I am told a lot is that the fantasy I write Is based on real life. Then is it fantasy at all? Sure my mates recognise themselves in some aspects of my work, be it in a character I described (and killed off early) or be it in a plot that is very similar to something that occurred in our life. But let’s be honest, every work, be it even a fragment of it, is based on us, on our life, it is the unique piece of us that we put in our work that makes it unique, that makes it distinctively different from other authors.

I feel like no one is listening

Like I pointed out last week, I am beginning to feel like no one is out there. True, the introvert in me always pulled the brakes on most of things I want to post or reply to people. Ever saw someone’s post, thought of a funny reply, wrote it and just stood there watching the words you typed and thought “Did I really think this would be funny?” And like most of my replies it ends up being deleted. So just so you know there were many funny and witty  responses you were deprived of. But even when I get the courage to post something, ask a thing or trying to be witty, all I get is well… crickets. I swear you can feel the empty space of vacuum that fills the silence when I try to reach out. OK perhaps I am overreacting a bit, but you have to admit it, that sometimes most of us haven’t thought that writing would be about these things. Reaching out to an audience that isn’t mostly there, promoting your work that a lot of people won’t even see. Whoever said that writing a book would be the easiest part really was onto something. It just makes you doubt, about you, about your own ability and I would lie if I said I don’t have moments thinking of giving up. It’s one thing creating your own world and characters and an other facing the real one.

Writing a book is the easiest part of it…

Still out here

I am trying. Like most of you I assume. I know, we all have problems to face, battles to fight and you think your struggle is unique and special, as no one feels like you, but when you look more closely and see that there are million people who feel like you do, it takes away a bit from your own battle as now you know the fight you face is not that special. Bit in that shattering realisation you gain strength, knowledge that you ain’t alone. I am still trying, still fighting the notion of giving up, just wishing my words don’t end up in the emptiness of the void, wishing that at least the only response I get ain’t the echo of my own voice. Still somehow here,

Harry.

Ymir’s legacy (P.T.2)

Getting through the huge cracks in the external barrier made Hellnar think even more about what could had caused that kind of damage. Was the Bone Crusher right all along? Did the gods punish them, exiling them from Midgard? The walls were huge, it would make one think only giants could manage to build such monstrosities. But whoever did put them there, what happened to them? Where are they now? Did someone kill them all? Perhaps whoever could brake these fortifications proved to be more then a match. Whatever dwells here now might be their reckoning.

The land beyond the wall was different. Even if it was mostly covered in snow, it reeked of death. The chilling embrace was not caused by the falling temperatures, but rather by the dreary feeling that enveloped these lands. It was filled with questions that they did not know how to answer. The high snow fell on  most of the structures that were beyond the wall, burying them down, creating a graveyard of a once great nation. What little that was left, stuck out from the white dust, soaring into the air. It seemed no matter how harsh were the elements in their effort to erase this place, it still fought back, as some structures were intact from the snow, still accessible from land. The group looked in awe to the sunken city of ice. Beyond the wall, as far as the eye could reach, a clear view that this was no mere city, but a proud and advance nation that held this area. Strange pillars with spikes and cords struck out of the ground, soaring high into the air. Surrounding the group as they followed their curiosity inland, were these massive rubbles of steel and all sorts of unknown metal. Feki, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him, broke off from them, running away towards the few buildings that they could get in. “Where does this fool go now?”, Orm said getting the attentionof the party as everyone turned towards Feki who got lost beyond the metal pillars that stood in front of a giant building that was half sunk into the snow, but still revealing its door to all. “We shouldn’t split up. Not now. Aldur! Stay with your idiot of a brother and make sure he doesn’t get himself killed. Yet… Rest of you lets move on forward, perhaps we will find some luck and some supplies. Night is bound to find this place as well. No matter how much this land is lost. Shelter would be nice too. And don’t touch anything, for Odin’s sake!” Hellnar shouted at the Bone Crusher, who laid his hand on a metal chunk that fell to the ground, but as soon as Hellnar raised his voice, the mountain of a man pulled his hand back to himself, as if he wasn’t twice the size of his leader, rather feeling like a small child scolded as if his mother caught him eating her fresh apple pie.

While others were bickering about what to do next, Feki marveled in the architecture of this place, daydreaming what wonders lived here, how this place was in its prime.
He strayed far enough, finding a perfectly preserved ruin. With half of it missing, the other half was in pristine condition, allowing the young warrior to enter. He found it strange, as there was no furniture, the half building that was missing resembled a sword cut, as if a humongous blade cut it in half. As Feki dwelled further in, all he could find was a big white boulder just sitting in the middle of one room. The stone was strange, as it was cold on touch, feeling more like a cold metal than if you would put your hand in snow. On it just a small black curricular mirror in which Feki saw his reflection. It amused the young pup, as he watched himself in it. As he touched it, the black mirror suddenly turned bright red, the boulder released a dreadful sound, as if someone blew the war horn and it moved. The stone was alive, it stretched and four legs came out of it and before Feki a metal beast with legs and a mouth appeared.

It was hard to explain, a wolf in metal armor was the closest thought that went to his mind, as firstly it moved its head, observing him. Feki pulled his sword forth ready to defend himself, but the iron wolf just stood there, moving only his head back and forth. Feki’s heart punted so fast, as calm left him, being replaced by panic and fear. His left foot fumbled, making him almost fall on his back as he wanted to gain distance from the beast. As his leg suddenly went down, the wolf moved with astonishing speed.

A loud cry could be heard through, filling the chilling air. “What was that?”, Orm asked as he looked around for the source of the cry. “Where is Feki?” As soon as Helnar asked, Aldur rushed sprinting. The rest followed closely behind and as they made just few yards from where they originally were, a gruesome shight greeted them. The metal beast, with a glowing red eye, bright as the sun itself, slowly stepped forth, holding the top of Feki’s mutilated body. The blood was still fresh, dripping on the cold snow below. Aldur’s eyes filled with rage and tears, seeing his brother’s body desecrated. He released a piercing battle cry and without thought, with his axe held high, charged the beast.

As he lunged forward, the beast without too much effort evaded him, quickly moving to the side. It dropped its trophy, as the torso rolled down its mouth, now with all focus on Aldur, it circled around him. The rest just watched in shock, not understanding what has happened. The beast was something from stories, but no moment was wasted as they all went to aid their comrade. Aldur went forth once again, now successfully hitting the beast. But as his axe touched its cold skin, it just broke in pieces. The iron of the wolf was much harder then their steel, rendering their weapons unless. The beast tried to bite Aldur, but before it could even reach him, the others engaged, just to be greeted by the same outcome. Their blades cracked and broke as the wolf pushed Orm away, sending him flying into the air. Its sole focus was on Aldur, as it slowly stepped forward to his pray. But the giant of a man he was,  the Bone Crusher clenched the beast, grabbing its jaw. But it knocked Olaf down to the ground and bit off his hand. As it came to finish the job, it bit the stump of  the bleeding arm, holding it and while it was in the wolf’s jaws, Olaf with all his might punched the red eye, embedding his fist into it, pulling the strings that were inside.

As he retracted his fist, the wolf released again the sound of a horn, tumbling to the side and withering away, becoming lifeless and motionless. Olaf held his bleeding wound, where once his arm was, as the others came. Helnar quickly made a fire, commanding his men to hold the Bone Crusher as he burned the stump, stopping the bleeding. Olaf didn’t even flinch as his breath was deep.

Aldur mourned and cried over his dead brothers body, or what was left of it. Orm grabbed him, trying to pull him away. “NO! Let me be with him! Let me be with my brother!”, he shouted, fighting the old man se he tried to escape his grasp. “It’s all right lad… He is gone… Your brother is gone..” Orm tried to condole the young warrior. But he just knleeded on the bloodied snow, crying. Fear filled Helnar’s heart, as he was now sure… This is not Midgard, only death awaits him and his men here.

As the men gathered around, lifting Olaf and Aldur, through the land a sorrowful sound pierced the air. Same as the wolf’s, as if someone blew a horn, but now louder and bigger. One after the other it continued to blow, shaking the ground, vibrating it, moving the very snow beneath the Vikings feet. As the fearful sound came closer with every other horn, there, in the distance, a big shape could be seen, a shadow beneath the fog.

Restful Night (poetry collection)

Now all poetry and later down the line the collection of short stories that I am currently working on (Live, Die, Repeat) will be available all on one place on Wattpad. Right now you can go check out “Restful Night” the poetry collection! Tomorrow as promised the second part of the short story is coming here! Hope you are all having a great day!

https://www.wattpad.com/story/270378037?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=HarissonShaws&wp_originator=t5RHuPBv%2BVQ2SHWSBdEUloTmtC4yKPaosKSQ9%2B9G%2BVuPvYG3N%2BvNjBKiVyrFEW0ipSX%2BO6I2nhZTWsRTCqTYeoed8OTbBR7Kab0qWPDHsEi0W3eJPp4huaNsTkW6ex3p

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