My fifth novel is now officially a thing, and it’s a departure from the twisty sci-fi stories I’ve been exploring lately. Oh, the twists are still here, they’re just more mystical variety; more “small town” than cosmic. In fact, I like to imagine that the seaside village of Promont, Rhode Island—where this story takes place—isn’t too far from The Hole In the World’s Sea Scarp.

Songs From the Void takes place in a small harbor town in Rhode Island. John Rossy is a gifted musician, though his most interesting gift isn’t related to music at all. For as far back as he can remember he’s been able to catch glimpses of his own future, a quiet talent he’s used to get out of the odd scrape. When he comes upon evidence of a long lost twin—a man who is still very much lost—he sets off to track his brother down. But he soon discovers that twins can share unexpected similarities: not only could his brother glimpse into the future, but he could also influence what he saw there. And a gift like that comes with grave consequences.

The spark of the story came to me a decade or so ago when I watched a documentary about twins.¹ In one interview a doctor posited that twins were nature’s gift to science, since they allowed us a unique insight into identity and behavior. But from those questions of nature vs. nurture, I found myself wandering down a different path: what if one twin assumed the other’s identity? And what would happen if his lie took on a life of its own? It’s an interesting question to explore, especially when you add a pinch of precognition to the mix.

Anyway, check it out for yourself on Amazon right now!

For me, this marks the end of my rapid-fire publishing extravaganza. For various reasons—which you don’t have the clearance to know—I had all these novels stacked up, waiting to be published. But now I find myself staring at a blank page once more, and … it actually feels like a sanctuary. Yes, I’m looking forward to a more relaxed schedule. But this won’t be an idle idyll. I have a story brewing now that will whisk us all into the farthest reaches of the cosmos, and I can’t wait to figure out how to approach it. But I’m going to be taking my sweet time about it! So, I’ll see you lot sometime next year. Or maybe in 2040.