Bøger af Derek Porterfield

"In the beginning, God was said to have created everything in fairly short order. Some say 7 days. Others say 3. The truth is that god created nothing. God flipped a switch. The machines have been building ever since."In the crowded techno-religious city of Aberthene, almost everyone is augmented by biomedical modification. Part machine, and part human. The church rules the state and controls everything from production to housing.Addeleigh Simmons works in a religious building cleaning out suicide booths during the day while attending classes and studying at night. She hopes to soon afford the costly surgeries for the biomedical modifications that all of her friends have. She's singled out as only human: a no-mod.Her drab existence is upended suddenly when an armed group of Red Guards breaks into her dormitory. She escapes through a third floor window with her pet mute-cat, Bruce, and begins a journey that will expand her entire world.She doesn't know why she is being chased.She doesn't know who to trust.But no one outruns the church.Addie is being hunted.Addie is hiding from God.

WHO IS IT THAT ATLAS STANDS UPON?After running for her life and finding friendship and shelter in a desert fortress of rebel children, Addeleigh has discovered that she is more machine than human. A modern God.She must learn to control her new abilities under the watchful eyes of the infamously harsh trainer, Persephone.But Lord Bantham, the head of The Holy Order and wealthiest man in Aberthene, has plans of his own.Street-wise thief Shane, and his group of friends, desperately work to unveil Bantham's plot, and discover a horrifying secret along the way. A glimpse at just how far the church is willing to go.With her clever mute-cat by her side, Addeleigh is spearheading a revolution. But can she gain mastery of the immense power within herself before it's too late?

This book was written when I was in a bad place. You could say I was not in a good place. In fact, that's how I chose to say it. See? It's the title. It's about love, and more pointedly, the loss of it. It's about finding words and places and random household objects with more meaning in the absence of the people that made that stuff feel special. It's about feeling foolish in the wake of heartbreak. It's about yelling at god to feel a little more significant than any of us really is. But more than any of that, it's just me avoiding therapy with words and more attempts at public affirmation. I hope you dig it. And if you don't, I hope the next time you cook pasta it gets mushy and gross and that you don't even have any extra pasta in the pantry so you just have to eat saltines. And milk. Like a weirdo.