Cory & Deshawn #1: Plague Dance (eBook) - Dragon Dance Cycle

134 pages | eBook | 6x9"
Date of publication: 09/04/2015
  • ISBN: 978-1-941984-96-3
  • Model: 26357 words

Fireborn Publishing Main Page

Heat Rating: 2 Flames


Cory and Deshawn survived a plague-ravaged world. But can they survive Roderik, the man who would be King?

After a mutated strain of Ebola ended the world as we know it, Staff Sergeant Deshawn Roberts finds himself alone and longing for companionship.

Cory Wilson, one time office worker, has been a captive of Roderick, King of the Lone Star Empire. It's a life of slavery worse than death, and Cory escapes and is on the run.

Brought together by chance, can these two men survive in the harsh reality of post-Collapse America, and will they find the love they both crave?

CONTENT ADVISORIES: This is a re-release title. NOTE: While the books in Dragon Dance Series and Dragon Dance Cycle are set in the same world, they are not otherwise related. The books within each series should be read in order, but you do not have to read one series to understand the other.




A torrent poured forth from the darkened sky, the pounding drops intermingled with the chattering sounds of hail against the windows. Bursts of lightning shattered the night, bright as explosions in an embattled city.

Deshawn Roberts stared out at the fury of nature, wondering who else might be out there witnessing the storm. Wondering if he might be the only one left after the outbreak of a strain of super deadly Ebola tore through the country leaving millions dead.

Millions that included almost everyone else at Fort Hood where he'd been stationed.

Other than himself he didn't know who else might have survived the pandemic that had swept the US--the entire world--and left more people dead than alive.

The barracks where he'd lived with the rest of his platoon was empty, the rest of the men he'd liked, and those he'd tolerated, were all gone. Their mortal remains lay in the mass grave he'd managed to dig with a backhoe from a construction site for a subdivision that would never be finished.

There was no one left to do the work, and no one alive to buy the half-finished houses anyway.

Of the thousands of people who'd lived at the base, he was the only one left watching the place.

Him, alone with the echoing silence. He'd never understood that term, "echoing silence" until he experienced the utter quiet of a place so devoid of life that seeing a bird made his heart fill with joy.

He braced his forearms against the window sill, stared out at the raging storm.


He craved the sound of a human voice. The camaraderie of other soldiers, of men and women he knew, missed, wished he could talk to one last time. Share a beer and off-color jokes, stare at the TV and hear laughter and angry words exchanged.

To hear any voice break the plague of silence that ate at him day after day the way the plague of the body had eaten away at the people he knew until all that remained was the dust of the grave.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. The words mocked him. Taunted him with the promise of a release from loneliness he was unable to find.

A few others had survived, a couple men from a different platoon, one of the officers from his own command group. But they'd gone to find their families and no one had tried to prevent it. Not after General Ferrel had killed himself in the bedroom of his home, surrounded by his Ebola stricken family. No one saw any point in saying anything to them about duty or remaining to guard the base. Especially not after the government collapsed a few hours after General Ferrel took his own life.

Everything collapsed like a house of cards in a strong breeze.

And that's what the media began to call it in the last few struggling days of the United States. The Collapse. The end of civilization as everyone knew it. Even then, reports of warlords rising to power were coming in. Men--women too--carving out a niche in the plague shattered land by force, many of them using military gear liberated from the very bases that once served to protect the country.

He wondered if any of the men he'd known reached their homes. Wondered if they'd found anyone alive if they did make it across the war-torn remains of their plague shattered country.

Deshawn sighed, gaze riveted on the wild night, the storm torn riot beyond the glass and came to a decision.

At first light he would load up a Humvee with supplies and head out. There wasn't any reason to remain at the base. No one remained to care what he did or whether he continued to be loyal to his oath as a soldier.

With no government he had no one left to be loyal to, so his oath meant less than the rain hammering the base.

Sooner or later other survivors would show up. Survivors he might not want to meet. People like the warlord types the last few television newscasts mentioned. He'd heard a few radio broadcasts after that, the station running on a generator for a few days after the main power grid went dark. The last disc jockey left for hundreds of miles, talking himself hoarse, passing on any information he received, broadcasting rumors about the self-proclaimed King of the Lone Star Empire. A king who the rumors said was some former military guy named Roderik who'd raised an army and sent them rampaging around the countryside capturing the few people alive. People he forced to work for him, women he turned into servants fit only to cook and clean, the prettiest ones forced into lives of prostitution.

Then the station went silent. Either out of fuel for the generator or silenced by one of the warlords. Deshawn didn't know and he'd probably never find out.

In the long run it hardly mattered.

The world had gone from a thriving global economy, from civilized high-tech and instant communication across the globe to a barbaric age of savagery in the span of less than a month.

There were some really bad customers out there, prowling the post-Collapse landscape. People he had no desire to meet. Nor any desire to join in their egomaniacal quest for power.

"Rain, rain, go away," he murmured to himself before turning from the hammering of hail and rain to try and get some sleep.

Deshawn climbed out of his bunk the next morning, loaded up the Humvee and rolled out into the new world created by the Hand of Fate at a wink from Old Man Death.

About the series: With the world population decimated by a mutated strain of Ebola, civilization as we know it has gone down in ruins. Warlords rampage across what was once the United States of America, killing, raping and adding to the misery and horror that has swept the once proud nation. But hope springs eternal, and with her Dragon by her side Nikki will do everything she can to bring order from the chaos, at least in her little corner of what was once America. NOTE: The Dragon Dance Cycle includes both MM and MF titles. These titles are NOT interdependent on each other, and readers can choose to read only the MM or only the MF titles, without losing track of the series continuity. To aid readers, MM Dragon Dance Cycle titles are Michael Barnette titles, and MF ones are Jaymie Michaels titles. Additionally, book titles will include the names of main characters and the book number for that couple (if applicable) before the main title.


For more information, please visit the author's webpage.

Other books by Kathy Kozakewich- EDITOR:

Care Package (eBook)
Care Package (eBook)
Light Me Up (eBook)
Lily (eBook)
The White Cat (eBook)
Werewolf U (eBook)
About Michael Barnette:
Fireborn Publishing Main Page

Michael Barnette has been writing tales of manlove since the late 90s. Fleeing from the tropic heat of South Beach and Miami, Florida, Michael has steadily migrated farther and farther west and now writes within sight of the Flat Iron Mountains of Colorado. Readers can reach Michael via email at:



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For more information, please visit the author's webpage.
For more information, please visit the author's webpage.

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Other books by Kathy Kozakewich- EDITOR, Michael Barnette and Sheri McGathy- COVER ARTIST:

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This book was added to our catalog on Tuesday 21 April, 2015.

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