Showing results by narrator "Matt Penson" in All Categories

Who can you trust if you can't trust yourself? Estrel Beck doesn’t want to be a software salesman. Yet here he is, newly arrived in the city-state of Trinity, for a make-or-break meeting with the local Administration department. Under-prepared, under-motivated and over-sensitive, every little thing about this strange place seems to stress Estrel out. When he discovers a message scrawled on the back of a napkin, in his own handwriting, telling him he’s trapped in a time loop, he knows for sure that he’s in over his head. Then the Administration building explodes.

The party was never supposed to end like this. When a night of neon lights, loud music, and cheap drinks on a Thai island collapses into sudden violence, three strangers find themselves trapped in a nightmare they cannot outrun. As panic spreads and authorities fail, the rules of survival change fast.

The end did not come slowly. It arrived in hours. When society collapses without warning, there are no evacuation plans, no safe zones, and no second chances. Streets turn into kill zones. Communication fails. Panic spreads faster than the infection itself. As the dead rise and the living are overwhelmed, survival becomes a brutal calculation. Every decision costs lives. Every delay tightens the noose. Ordinary people are forced into extraordinary violence as cities burn and order disintegrates.

A prequel to The Sovereignty Circuit, this gripping thriller reveals the origin of one of espionage fiction’s most compelling modern operatives — Casimir Voss. Before he was the reluctant intelligence analyst pulled from retirement, before the Wire Garden rose in the global network, before the world began quietly shifting beneath him… Voss was something else entirely: a young dual-national prodigy recruited by MI6, shaped by loss, honed by silence, and thrust into the emerging frontier of AI-driven espionage.

“If memory is forbidden, then love is a revolution.” In a future where dreams are monitored, memories are filtered, and grief is considered a civic defect, a silent rebellion begins—not with weapons, but with poems, feathers, and the unbearable persistence of love. Echo was never meant to exist. Born from scraps of erased memory, she lives between the lines of a system that cannot name her, a machine that cannot understand her.

Love is rarely a straight path. It stumbles, it soars, it aches, it heals. In Can I Say I Loved Her?, P. Pierre and YOA trace the fragile beauty of longing, desire, hope, and heartbreak through poems that are both intimate and universal. Like watercolor wings pressed against the page, each verse moves between vulnerability and strength, between love lost and love remembered.