Authors: Shawn Hopkins
World Transhumanist Association. http://www.transhumanism.org/index.php/WTA/index/
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Shawn Hopkins lives in Pennsylvania with his wife and two daughters. He is the author of the supernatural thriller,
Progeny
(of which an excerpt follows). Visit his website at www.shawnhopkinsauthor.com for author interviews, updates, booktrailers, and much more.
PRAISE FOR PROGENY
“Blending the real world with things beyond our nature is not an easy task, but Hopkins has done just that with
Progeny
. This is a meaty meal of thrills, but never skimps on the details that give the story a bite of reality, and, thankfully, freshness. This is a book not cut from the same cloth as other thrillers that tread similar ground. Highly recommended.”
— Ryne Douglas Pearson, author of
Simple Simon
,
Confessions
, and screenwriter of the box office hit,
Knowing
“
Progeny
is a well-researched and fast-paced thriller. The characters are engaging and real, the story line plausible and fascinating, and the writing well done.”
— Larry Enright, best-selling author of
Four Years From Home
and
12/21/12
“Cussler, Brown, Hopkins! The careful plotting no doubt owes itself to the massive research that Hopkins had to have done to pull off such a well-worked mystery. Reminiscent of Dan Browns’ use of Biblical lore in
Angels and Demons
and Clive Cussler’s wonderful maritime locales. Dynamic characters, wonderful settings, and unbelievable twists kept me turning the pages.”
— Heidi Ruby Miller, author of
Ambasadora
and
Greenshift
“[A] smart, action-packed thrill ride! In a story I can best describe as
The DaVinci Code
meets
Stargate
, Hopkins weaves fallen angels, the gods of ancient mythology, and the Bermuda Triangle into an intricate tale whose true focus is in the power of redemption… His proficiency in scripture, the Book of Enoch, and ancient civilizations makes this novel credible and a little frightening. Hopkins describes the similarities between ancient mythologies and Old Testament tales with academic dexterity and makes them central to the plot of the story. Where his skill lies is in pulling you into the disconcerting realities his research suggests and the sinister conclusions they hold…
Progeny
is equal parts religious thriller and action-packed roller coaster ride. Hopkins may write Christian-themed fiction, but he doesn’t play it safe: it’s a gritty, bloody tale that will make you think, question, and cringe from one page to the next.”
— Christopher Starr, author of
The Road to Hell: The Book of Lucifer
“Hang on, this story will make you question what you believe! Shawn Hopkins has blended several stories, myths and legends from the past and brought them together into a believable adventure that will keep you up at night until you finish it. You’ll question what you believe and want to learn more. Well researched and well written.”
— Douglas Dorow, author of
The Ninth District
“LOVED THIS BOOK! Trying to describe it to a friend, ‘Dan Brown meets Lost meets Left Behind.’ Nothing like I’ve ever read before, and I am now officially a huge fan of Hopkins.” — Goodreads.com
“Step-mom won this book from GoodReads and I have to say that I am blown away. This book is a page turner. Excellent read.” — Goodreads.com
“All I can say about this is WOW! Hopkins has woven a great story, bringing all his research into the Nephilim, ancient mythology, [and the] Bermuda Triangle together. His writing style is mature and structured. The pace is fast, no doldrums here.” — Shelfari.com
“Thrilling! The author took information from several ancient mysteries and the biblical accounts of the Watchers and the Nephilim and made one thrilling and exciting story! I enjoyed the book very much. It was well written and the information he used was put together to make a plausible story. I will definitely be reading more of his work.
If you like to read about the pyramids, the Bermuda Triangle and other mysteries… I highly recommend this book.” — Amazon.com
“A serious page turner! I could not put it down! It was a thrilling, even educational, heart-pounding ride. I loved it, recommended it to others who were pulled into the story at page 1, and who also lost a night’s sleep! You will not be disappointed. The research is clearly apparent in Shawn’s work; he leaves not one detail untouched, not one character undeveloped, and manages to create a gripping tale around the most mysterious of truths.” — Amazon.com
“A great book that makes you wonder, but lets you imagine. I couldn’t put it down. It’s so different that you can’t seem to get ahead of it!” — Amazon.com
“Mysterious, intriguing, thought provoking! I couldn’t put the book down! This is the first book I read by the author, can’t wait to read his others!” — Amazon.com
“What a ride ! A thought provoking work. This is more than an action novel, more than sci-fi meets Left Behind
.
Progeny
is steeped in mysterious ancient legends and biblical prophesy. It pulls from a myriad of well researched sources of good and evil. The ending came together with a plot twist so over the top it completely blindsided me. [
Progeny
] opens up a lot of good questions while fitting some strange age-old puzzle pieces together… Ponder well.” — Amazon.com
“Talk about a page turner… I always regretted having to put it down. From the beginning it held me spellbound and anxious for the characters’ situation. The ties to the Bible, the Book of Enoch, and Greek, Roman, and Egyptian mythology make this all the more exciting!” — Goodreads.com
PROGENY
EXCERPT
O
f course it didn’t make any sense! None whatsoever. And though he tried to understand it, he knew it was nothing short of impossible. There was simply nothing to understand.
Standing on the main deck, he looked again to the mizzenmast and the mainmast, ignoring the lingering storm clouds. Both were without sails, reduced to bare poles stretching up into the sky, their ends splintered into jagged points. Then he turned and studied the foremast, the only sail still intact. But this observation only taunted his reason more. Managing to tear his eyes away from it, he began moving his feet, and navigated through a couple of his men, coming to the portside of the ship. Again, he leaned over her broken railing and peered down the side.
How was it possible?
The captain looked up from the passing water sloshing alongside the
Sovereignty
’s
hull and fixed his gaze ahead to the portside bow — at the water it was somehow speedily cutting a path through.
“Strange.”
The voice behind startled him, and he turned to see his lieutenant standing there staring out into the vast ocean himself.
The captain frowned, moving his gaze over the rest of his crew. “What are they saying?”
The lieutenant shifted his eyes to the driver, to Britain’s flag flapping in the breeze. The red, white, and blue amalgamation of
St. George’s Cross
and
St. Andrew’s Cross
was still blowing in the wrong direction.
“They do not know what to think,” he replied. “Though the storm itself is the context through which they are interpreting this odd phenomenon.”
“Are they scared?”
“Of course. It has been two days since the storm overtook us. Two days since we have had any control of the ship, and now many of the men are beginning to wonder where this mysterious fate is taking them.”
Looking straight into the eyes of his old friend, the captain asked, “And what is it that
you
believe?”
He shrugged. “I cannot deny that the storm seemed to be of a distinct character.” His eyes went back out into the unknown. “It was not like anything that I have seen before.”
“You think it was evil.”
The lieutenant ignored the amusement that sat behind the statement because he knew it to be fabricated. He answered unashamedly, “There seemed to be a will behind it.”
The captain laughed nervously, attempting to dismiss such a ludicrous idea. “Listen to us, talking as if nature were a person!”
Eyes narrowing, he responded, “And yet, here we are with no sails to propel us, no means of our own by which to make a speedily retreat…”
The captain nodded in consent and finished the lieutenant’s thought for him, “…moving quickly through this dead calm.”
“It is not natural.”
Looking up into the lingering rain clouds, the captain asked another question, this one born of simple hope. “Do you think that this could be Providence guiding us? Saving us, even?”
“Perhaps I would have been more apt to consider such a pleasant thought if it were not for the nightmare that introduced us to such circumstances in the first place.”
There was no denying what his lieutenant was saying. He had seen the storm — had
felt
it — and it had not been according to the natural order of things. Maybe he would never be able to put into words what they had encountered out on the sea two days ago, but the inability to express it would never erase it or change it from being something other than what it was — a mystery, yes, but a reality nonetheless. For though they may not have seen one, they were all certain that this particular storm had a face. And it had not been the face of God. Simply recalling the way in which it had spread across the sky made his spine tingle. That cold darkness that penetrated his flesh seemed to pass right through his soul… And now, here they sat, captive to something they did not understand nor could ever hope to control. In their own power and by their own means they were but stranded in the middle of the Atlantic with half of the crew dead, most of their supplies lost, and no means of navigation whatsoever (for even the whipstaff had been destroyed). And yet there was indeed an unseen force moving them in contradiction to nature. But what was it, and where was it taking them?
Certainly not back to England.
“It would have been better to stay and fight,” the captain said, full of remorse.
But the lieutenant shook his head in respectful disagreement. “The pirates led us into a trap, and you did all that you could to save us. No one among the living could have foreseen this. It is not your fault.”
But the thought of
something
being at fault triggered another idea in his mind. “Do you suppose we could have a Jonah on board?”
“You mean someone that God is angry with, his presence among us bringing judgment on the whole ship?” He shook his head, though his attention was still captivated by the watery horizon. “Even if we found such a person and threw him overboard, where would that leave us? Would God tell us where we are, repair the whipstaff and return our charts?”
The captain thought about this. “You think it best to see where this invisible hand takes us?”
“I see no other option. It is either that or we starve.”
“We could eat the prisoner,” the captain jested with ill humor.
The prisoner had been caught trying to escape to the American colonies in a small ship manned with a hired crew. It was after attaining him and upon their return to England that they ran into a hoard of pirate ships. Though they were able to outrun the pirates by heading southwest and into a strange fog, they were unable to outrun the storm that the fog had veiled.
“I would not care to touch that man, let alone eat him,” responded the lieutenant. “But if there is a Jonah on this ship, he certainly has my vote.”
After a moment of silence and watching a few scattered water drops plunge into the surface of the water, the captain mumbled, “Would it be far-fetched to credit what is happening to our prisoner?”
“You are not suggesting that he is responsible for the storm, that he somehow plotted out this course for us?”
“No, I would not suggest all of that. I merely wonder if there could be a connection, no matter how small. After all, he is no ordinary man, is he?”
The lieutenant finally turned to face the captain. “Besides the fact that he has six fingers on his right hand, how different can he possibly be from the rest of the depraved lunatics roaming our countryside?”
“You do not give credence to the stories then?” The captain’s previous attempt to ignore such extreme possibilities had feigned quickly.
“Though I cannot explain what I have seen with more thoughts than I have already disclosed, I do have a difficult time believing the stories to be anything more than exaggerations.”
The captain frowned, confused as to how their roles had so quickly become reversed. “In light of what we just witnessed and what we are witnessing now, would it seem like so great a stretch to think of the supernatural as being present with us?”
“No, I suppose not.”
At that moment a cry went out from the bow, drawing their attention away from bizarre speculation and to the more immediate and tangible present.
“Land!” the voice was crying. “Land!”
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