And now... Here is a sneak peek at Book 1 of the series, The Inventor's Son:
Chapter 1: In Which an Android Finds its Way Home
Like most normal people, Ethan Stanwood had a particular dislike of Mondays. Nothing good ever seemed to come of them.
His adventures began on a Monday, the seventh of April in the year 1890, just after Easter Sunday. That morning, Ethan had believed that he would be working with his father on a rather important project. To his disappointment, it turned out that Marcus Stanwood was departing early.
"But Father, you just saw Uncle Malcolm yesterday!" Ethan protested with a disapproving pout once he heard.
Marcus gave Ethan an odd look, and said, "I'm well aware of that! But there are a few things I still need to speak to my brother about without having all the children there."
"Well, then why are you taking Sam with you?" Ethan asked, noticing the android-style device standing beside Marcus' leg.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that Sam's like one of the children, isn't he?" Ethan argued.
Marcus huffed. "Ethan, not now, I haven't the time! I'm not going for a social call. It's business! "
"But, can't I go with you?"
"No, absolutely not, Ethan! Just stay here until I get back. I should not be long," Marcus told him.
"Oh, I'll be right here. I don't go anywhere anyway..." Ethan sighed. If he had been like most boys of nearly thirteen, he would have been heading off to school.
Marcus' only response was to make a face, as though he would rather Ethan had not chosen to end their conversation on such a note. Almost out the door, Marcus turned back around and asked, "Alright there, Ethan?"
"Sure," Ethan answered, trying to keep the sulky tone out of his voice but failing.
"I love you, my boy," Marcus told him, sounding quite melancholy.
Ethan could not keep his face from screwing into a look of baffled disgust. "I love you too," he responded, nearly rolling his eyes. Marcus smiled at Ethan's response to the unusually mushy departure, and shut the door behind him.
Ethan felt a bit depressed. Even though he was annoyed with his father, he reckoned it would be a better idea to get some things in their workshop shed prepared for later rather than sit and sulk. The early morning sun did not reach the backyard just yet. Ethan paused for a moment to look around. His grandmother's garden, where she would soon plant a profusion of herbs and bright flowers (to camouflage the herbs, in Ethan's opinion), was only tilled the other day. The grass had a lovely damp smell that Ethan savored as he inhaled as deeply as he could. This was one of the few places in London where the air seemed clean enough to appreciate.
And then, Ethan coughed. It was not the type of cough one gets with a mere scratchy throat. It was deep and "productive." Ethan came to the grim realization that he was still not completely recovered from his last illness. He'd have to try and hide it from his father. And preferably from everyone else. Once one person in the household knew, it was as good as telling the entire neighborhood.
Unless, of course, his father already knew he was still sick, and that was why he left Ethan behind to visit Uncle Malcolm...
He wondered why his father needed to take Sam so badly. He sighed. It was going to be a long day if he didn't shake this feeling of being so put out merely because his father was behaving oddly, yet again. Ethan figured he shouldn't feel so annoyed with his father. To be Marcus Stanwood was to be mercurial and sometimes ever so slightly obnoxious.
YOU ARE READING
The Inventor's Son: The BeginningScience Fiction
It begins with a meeting... where a promising new technology for amputees and soldiers is demonstrated. But soon, the truth is discovered: the mastermind who created such miraculous prosthetic limbs is not interested in a business deal. He only want...