UPDATE ::
JOIN THE FUN - COLOR ME DESPERATE - CONTEST ENDS MAY 1ST
JOIN THE FUN - COLOR ME DESPERATE
Join the fun! We’ve created a color page illustrating the lab accident that created IZZY. FIVE WINNERS will be selected to receive a signed Jacketed Hardback of Book 2 “Creation” when published.
To enter, copy the image below and enjoy creating your colored masterpiece. Then attach a jpeg of it to an email with your name. Put in the subject line COLOR PAGE IZ~ 1 and send to: theizzystory@gmail.com. Hurry, the due date is May 1, 2016.
Below is a segment of Book 2 describing Dorf's dilemma.
DRAFT FROM BOOK 2 “CREATION”
Dorf stretched his shoulders to loosen the newly sprayed cocoon of yellow fibers as the door to the wraptrap opened.
“Yee-e-ow-hiss!” Something pierced his leg. He kicked hard to free himself from the attacker and lost his balance, falling shoulder-first against shelves of carefully placed vials of cultures and other paraphernalia. He grabbed the shelf’s upright brace to keep from falling but his thrust dislodged it. Cultures, beakers, crucibles, and spot plates tumbled out hitting Dorf and crashing on the floor. His feet slid out from under him. He landed hard, sliding over liquid, blood, glass shards and feces. “Feces?” he blurted as he saw it amidst the mixture of goo.
The security alarm sounded. Ignoring its blare, Dorf slowly lifted onto an elbow, avoiding glass and unknown substances. He studied his injury. Through the fibrous wrap covering his calf was a double puncture wound oozing blood, around which an egg-white-like mucous was forming. He watched the mucous absorb blood turning into a bright orange lump. The viscous blob slid over the muscle of his calf onto the floor and began pulsating.
Creepy, Dorf thought. He scanned the scene. How would he analyze it? Thousands of cells, bacterial, and viral cultures mixed randomly devoid of identification splattered everywhere. Determining which ones contributed to the pulsating mass would take months and months of analysis.
He eased himself from the slimy soup, avoiding contact with the glob that seemed to have a life of its own.
Dorf’s head pounded from the screaming siren. How’d that cat get in here? He worried as he tapped his DB to deactivate the alarm and send a message to all employees. BIOLOGICAL HAZARD - S11 CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
