Tegon Maus, Author of 'Bob': On Tour

Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing (September 5, 2014)
Category: Soft Science Fiction
Available in: ebook, Aprox. 165 Pages

After 27 years as a newspaper man, Peter Anderson’s career is slipping away… at least it was... until he stumbled upon the story of a lifetime.

Sent to do a fluff piece about lights in the night sky over Arizona, he discovers far more than he ever expected when he comes upon a mysterious young woman held prisoner in a basement. After helping her to escape she disappears before he can learn the truth about who she is or where she came from.

His search for her leads him back to the lights in the sky and leaves him with more questions than answers. The only thing he knows for certain… the only thing he can count on are the two words offered repeatedly by his friend and guide…. “IS BELT.”

Excerpt for Deal Sharing Aunt

"Bob?" I began, pointing toward the dark, stooped figure of Fred threading his way through the underbrush.

"Is Fred's way... live to close too nuclear plant. What Bob going to do?" he said, holding up both hands in defeat.

I had no idea what to say to that.

Bob, following Fred's lead, pulled a black ski mask over his face, before handing me a baseball cap.

"What's this?" I asked totally expecting a ski mask, turning the cap over in my hands.

"Beginner’s hat. Maybe, next time, for you," he smirked.

I'd been ribbed before, and I can take it almost as good as I can give it but this... from Bob? Damn aggravating.

I tripped along in the dark, getting my feet tangled on every stick, every root, every obstacle that stuck up out of the ground as I trailed behind him.

He, unlike Fred, seemed to be more than comfortable in the woods as well as the dark. Fred walked slightly ahead, darting from tree to tree as if hiding himself from some unseen observer.

Bob and I simply stood in place, waiting for him to wave us on as he dashed to the next tree or rock outcropping.

After what seemed like forever and more scratches and bruises than I had acquired in a lifetime, we found the house.

Fred, his back pressed against a sizable rock as if he were keeping it in place, held his position a dozen yards ahead of us. He waved frantically, signaling for us to get down and we obeyed.

A moment later headlights swept over where we had stood. The sound of tires grinding through the dirt filled the air.

"Shit," I breathed to myself. I hadn't expected this to be easy. It never had been in the past, but with Bob and Fred leading the way, we were screwed.

Fred scampered to his next position, waving us on to the rock he had just left behind when he felt the coast was clear.

It took us another fifteen minutes to cross the distance from where we first saw the house to physically touching the building.

I had to admit, my heart pounded hard in my chest, certain we were about to be caught as Fred pulled himself up to peer into a window.

"Clear," Fred whispered and we crept around the corner.

There were no cars, no trucks, no men with guns to be seen anywhere. Fred had hit it on the mark. For all outward appearances no one was home.

We continued to follow Fred as he made his way to a back door. Slowly, silently, he eased himself onto the porch kneeling before the door, slipping a hand into his shirt pocket.

Removing two small, shiny tools from its folds, he went to work on the knob.

Faster than I could say "is belt" Fred worked the lock, turning the knob. The door opened slightly.

We held a collective breath, waiting for the sound of an alarm.

"Clear," Fred whispered softly as he allowed the door to open fully. Crouched, almost on all fours, he scooted inside, closing the door behind him.

Unfathomable amounts of time seemed to slip by with each heartbeat as Bob and I stood outside in the dark and waited.

My anxiety, a mere seed in the pit of my stomach, had begun to run away with me. My palms grew sweaty.

"Is nice," Bob offered, leaning against the building, pushing both hands into his pockets.

"What?" I asked with disbelief.

"Is nice. Bob always busy... go here, go there. Wife always - when take wife to dinner? When go to opera? When take wife to see sister? When have time for wife? When Bob take out trash?"

"We just broke and entered. We can go to jail for this."

"Is nice, out with friends. That's all Bob say."

Before I could formulate an answer the door eased opened again.

"We're alone," Fred said.

Bob and I slipped in, closing the door behind us. We now stood in the mud room off the kitchen.

No more than six by five it held a built-in bench on one of the paneled walls, with a coat rack filling the opposite. The oversized tile floor continued throughout the kitchen as well.

The dim glow of a night light traced the edges of the granite topped cabinets and dining table. On the opposite side of the room was an opening to the hallway.

My attention was drawn by the sound of someone going through one of the cabinets.

"Fred," I whispered hoarsely, looking about the room for him.

"Da," he responded, popping up from under one of the cabinets, a large frying pan and matching lid in his hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked angrily.

He began to speak in Russian as Bob patted him down, removing a stainless steel sauce pan from under his shirt.

Bob said nothing beyond a couple of quick snaps of his fingers before pointing to me.

Fred's arms went limp again as his hands went to his pocket, retrieving a fifty, handing it reluctantly to me.

"You should be ashamed," I admonished, happily snapping the money right out of his hand.

We moved through the kitchen to the hall and to the door that someone had used to spy on us.

At that moment, the sound of a toilet flushing reached us from somewhere upstairs.

Like little kids, all three of us dove for the door, rushing inside. On the other side the floor vanished, becoming little more than a small landing with stairs trailing into the darkness.

Praise for Tegon Maus's 'Bob':

"After twenty seven years in the business, who wouldn’t want an exclusive story, especially when “It’s the BIG one?” The one which answers questions which has been asked my millions.
“Are there really aliens out there, and have they ever visited Earth?”

Well, journalist Peter Anderson is given the opportunity to find the answers to these questions, a journalists dream. However first he must travel to Payson, Arizona and interview Professor Donald Thorpe, luckily the doorman at the hotel has a ‘friend’ who can drive him. Meet Dimitri Rurik Petrova otherwise known as Bob!

The Professor says he has proof that the lights in the sky are real, and, what Peter sees that day, changes his life forever.

Soon, Peter and Bob find themselves rescuing Emma, a beautiful woman they discover being horribly tortured in a basement.

Then the fun begins as we discover the answers to many questions. If you’ve always wondered about those lights in the desert, if little green men have visited earth, and if spaceships exist the answers could be here….

Whether or not you believe the outcome, there is no denying that you will have great fun reading this very enjoyable science fiction story. It has all the essential components, good characters, a great plot and plenty of twists and turns to keep you guessing, right up until the end."- Susan Keefe, Book Reviews by Susan Keefe

"This is a cute science fiction piece that can't be put down until the last "cousin" is discovered. Bob is so zany and endearing one can't help but to love him in spite of his nefarious ways.

This adventure moves very quickly, so one must keep on their toes to keep up with the action. This novel starts off as the typical lights in the sky story, but quickly morphs into an entirely unique tale of good and evil and the reader is kept on the edge of their seat waiting to see what happens next. The end is completely unexpected but completely hilarious. Anyone into sci-fi or comedy would enjoy this delightful little gem that is worth reading again and again."- Belinda Wilson, Amazon Reviewer

"The characters in this novella were well-developed and memorable. I was especially interested in seeing what was going on with Bob because Mr. Maus dropped some tantalizing clues about him early on. Bob’s tendency to understate important things and overstate the trivial stuff was as as it was descriptive of who he is as a man. He and Peter had personalities that were about as diametrically opposed to one another as you can get, so it was amusing to see how they interacted in stressful situations. Peter was a little harder to read, but I soon came to appreciate his calmer and more reserved approach to life as the plot thickened.

One of the things I enjoy the most about Mr. Maus’ writing style is how much energy he puts into describing his settings in great detail without slowing down the plot at all. Instead he sprinkled mesmerizing imagery into everything else that was going on. Sometimes the descriptions were funny. Other times they were eerie or mind-boggling. Peter visited some truly incredible places during the course of this tale, and I felt like I experienced them alongside him.

Bob was a wild ride. This is a great choice for anyone who likes speculating about the real origins of Unidentified Flying Objects."-LAS Reviewer, Long and Short Reviews

About Tegon Maus:

I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else... devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn't friendly, I just wasn't "people orientated". Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.

The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can't remember what it was about... something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.

It wasn't a deliberate conscious thought, it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. "Be as detailed as you can," we were told.

I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it's making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an outright lie mind you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn't be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of "it could happen" very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.

I have consistently placed in the top 3 in 189 writing contest in a variety of genres and I have been featured in magazines a couple of times to raise money for Saint Jude’s Children’s Hospital.

Website: http://www.tegonmaus.com/#!
Author on Tirgearr Website: http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Maus_Tegon/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TegonMaus
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