Dennis Anthony has stoppped by The Library to chat with us as part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Dennis will be awarding an eCopy of Debunker: Independence Day to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Tell us about your current book in 10 words.
In a strange universe, the heart remains the strangest thing
What are you reading right now?
Innocence by Dean Koontz
E-Reader or print? and why?
Almost exclusively e-reader (except for gifts). Too many hard copy books in the house. Can’t move!
One book at a time or multiples?
I try to read one book at a time on e-reader and listen to another while working out. Life’s complicated enough without reading multiple books.
Dog-ear or bookmark? (don't worry—Librarian Judith won't hold it against you—much)
Always bookmark. My wife, on the other hand . . . .
Least favorite book you've read this year?
Watchers by Dean Koontz. I thought the book was awful. On the other hand, Odd Thomas and Innocence, both by the same author, are delights. I don’t get it. Librarian Judith actually likes all three of those by Mr. Koontz. 77 Shadow Street was the least favorite of the Koontz book. When do you do most of your reading?
I read my Kindle in the afternoon and early morning before getting out of bed. I credit audiobooks for being able to continue going to the gym every day. I don’t look forward to the treadmills, weight machines and other torture devices, but I do look forward to discovering what happens next in the book I’m reading/listening to. When my wife and I are on a trip and we have to spend a long time on boring slabs of interstate, we always listen to a book -- usually a mystery -- as we travel. We stop the book often to talk about events and predict who dunnit. We’re always wrong. But it keeps me awake while I’m driving.
Favorite place to read?
In the big leather chair in my home office. On the second treadmill from the left at the gym.
Favorite book to recommend?
If you think you don’t like paranormal books but enjoy novels with a little grit in them, read The Last Werewolf by Glen Duncan. You might change your mind. If you hate Westerns (I never read one before), read Doc by Mary Doria Russell. Beautifully written and surprisingly touching. The final climactic scene in the saloon took my breath away.
How do you keep your books organized?
Um . . . memory?
Re-reader or not?
I’m rereading the classics. A lot different the second time around. The Great Gatsby, for instance, was much more enjoyable when I read it as an adult than when I read it in college. Ditto when I read Slaughterhouse Five. I think I tried too hard to find meaning and symbolism when I was younger. These days, I just enjoy the ride without trying so hard. The books are more fun and it’s a richer experience.
It’s 150 years later. Enter Francis Trecy.
An alienated outsider, he refutes paranormal claims of other researchers on a popular reality television show. Critics call him The Dark Lord. They call him The Unbeliever. Only a few people closest to him know his secret. Francis sees a lot more than he’s telling.
Before he becomes the accidental star of the program, he falls in love with a beautiful, enigmatic woman who disappears without explanation. In her wake, she leaves behind a procession of ex-lovers, along with suggestions of deceit and betrayal. Finding her becomes Francis's obsession.
His team of mismatched investigators journeys to the most famous battlefield in American history. There he discovers that reality is not at all what it seems. In coming to terms with his relationships and his complicated past, he battles against physical danger and emotional pain. He discovers that longings of thousands of wayward spirits mirror his own.
And he learns that in a world stranger than we can imagine, the human heart remains the strangest thing of all.
“Where was this?”
“Culp’s Hill,” Francis said. “Third day.”
The old man nodded. “The Second Maryland lost more than half its men in the space of ten hours.”
“It was a slaughter pen,” Francis said. “We were exhausted after marching more than a hundred miles, but were ordered to make attacks on the second, and then again on the third. The last one was the worst.”
“Where were you?”
“I don’t know. I folded. I fell down behind a tree. I wasn’t hit and I know if I had simply kept moving, I would have . . .”
“Been killed?” Mr. Cobb said.
“Supported my unit,” Francis said. “Some of the boys got about twenty yards from the Union position. Marshall Wilson almost made it, but he caught two in his right arm. ‘I’m bleedin’ real bad, Nate,’ he called to me. He never asked for my help. He just kept talking about bleeding. Hornets were flying close above me and the tree was being chopped apart by all the fire. I was frozen. I couldn’t move. I heard Marshall call my name a couple of more times. He wasn’t mad. At least I didn’t think so. Sometimes I thought he might have been saying ‘hate’ or maybe ‘fate’.”
“What happened next?”
“I tossed my gun away. I knew I wasn’t a soldier any more.”
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