BOB Blog Tour (+$25 Amazon GC Giveaway!)

Title: BOB

Author: Tegon Maus

Series: NA

Pages: N/A

Date Published: 2014

Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing

Format: Kindle

Genre: Science Fiction 

Source: Goddess Fish Blog Tours
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Synopsis:

 The first time I heard it, I thought nothing of it at all... nothing. I've been in the newspaper game for more than twenty-seven years and that kind of experience gave a guy an edge but even that didn't prepare me.

I'd been beaten, shot at, even stabbed a couple of times over the years but I always got the story... always. But this one... this one was big... too big perhaps... Maybe we were ready, maybe not. Either way, it wasn't my call. 

None of which filled me with the fear, the trepidation... the anguish of five little words that still haunted me today...
"Is okay. I have cousin."

~Guest Post!~

I’m asked all the time how did you come to write SCi-Fi? Who motivated you? I think most of us have someone we looked up to as kids... someone that helped to shape the way we see the world. Someone that made us a better person; okay, maybe I went a little too far with the word better... let's just say influenced.

Personally I had two. The first... at the top of the list was Benjamin Franklin. An all around great guy... anyone who can fly a kite in the rain, just to see what lightning is made out of and live to tell about it is always at the top of my list.

The second was Reed Richards... okay, nobody said it had to be a real person. As a kid when I read the Fantastic Four I was held in awe by the wild machines that populated its pages not to mention by the man himself. He had perfect posture, broad shoulders, chiseled good looks and a generous swath of gray at the temples. Anyone could see he was one of the good guys. He was an unparalleled genius able to multi-task in a time that had never heard the term. He could manage the problem at hand and his relationship with all the other team members and all at the same time. I had envisioned myself in his likeness a million times. I wanted to be this kind of man... but genetics being what they are and much to my personal disappointment I wound up looking more like Franklin. Happily, the tradeoff turned out to be the craving for knowledge and the feeling of kinship were machinery is involved.

I think this, above all else, is what Sci-Fi is all about. It makes you want more... not just for the sake of having material gain but to have and be more than you are... to become something better than you were in the beginning, even if it’s just for a little while. It makes you want to visit those worlds, see those creatures, have those adventures... see all those incredible machines and spaceships and ray guns and zapping arcs of energy from things we can't possibly understand. But we want to, we really want to.

We want it to transform us in unimaginable ways so we can be part of something bigger than ourselves, something wonderful and good. Isn't that why we read? To live a life not our own for however long that book will have us. We crave that kinship with our stories and Sci-Fi lets us live in those pages to its absolute fullest. We want a happy ending, don't we? We want to wipe the tears of our involvement from our cheeks and say to ourselves... "that was really, really good."

Down deep inside that’s what we all really want isn't it? Well... that and chocolate.

~Try an Excerpt!~

I blinked in disbelief, too stunned to speak.

Standing in front of me, dressed in black jeans, a dark blue tee shirt with a picture of Bob Marley and a backward baseball cap was a small, no more than 5' 2", twenty something, black man.

"Hi. I'm Pete," I said, offering my hand.

"Ahh, is sad story. Bob's cousin not speak English," Bob said pushing my hand away.

"Awhhh," the little man breathed hoarsely, turning away, his arms swung loosely in response.

"Bob, he just said dude to me when he came in," I said, pointing an insistent finger at the little man.

"He tries, broken English not so good. Is Fred," he answered, spinning his hand playfully in the air, pointing, draping a large, affectionate arm over the man's shoulder.

"Fred... your Russian cousin?"

"Da," he answered simply without blinking.

"Bob... he just spoke to me and it wasn't Russian," I protested.

"Ahh, Bob's friend generous, not make Bob's cousin self-conscious. You good man, but Fred speaks no English," he argued, folding his arms.

"Ahhh, damn it, Bob. You promised me... you said I could talk this time. Shit man," Fred cursed in a raspy whisper, stomping his foot, turning away.

"Nyet, nyet," Bob scolded, grabbing Fred. He began to speak Russian, shaking his finger in the other man's face.

Fred's shoulders slumped. His head swung loosely from side to side, avoiding Bob's gaze.

"Da," he said dully, turning in my direction once more.

"His English not so good," Bob added, wiggling his hands dismissively.

"Sounded damn good to me," I said honestly.

"Bob understands. Bob's friend speak Spanish?" he asked with a little annoyance in his voice, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Nope. Can't say as I do," I answered, folding my arms.

"How you say... no speak Spanish?" he asked, folding his arms as well.

"No habla Hispano."

"AAAHHH, to Bob, Bob's friend sound like native. Bob thought he smelled burritos, heard waves on beach. Very impressed. Bob's friend has gift for language. Sure not speak Spanish?"

"Fred," I said flatly, stepping directly in front of the little man. "Do you speak English?"

"Da. Fred speak no English," he responded dully, tilting his head from side to side, his arms hung slack, swinging loosely as he spoke.

"Very sad, like Bob say. Fred's parents live too close to nuclear plant. Sure, sure, rent very cheap but Fred... no brain for English," Bob said, closing his eyes, shaking his head in a pretentious, melancholy way.

"Bob," I started.

"Very late. No time for Fred's story. Bob's friend want to see house tonight or no?" he asked, pushing himself to stand between me and Fred.

"Alright, have it your way. Let's go," I demanded now irritated, angrily grabbing my coat off the back of the chair.

"Nyet, nyet. Bob's friend almost forget," he said, turning his back quickly, wriggling his fingers.

"Dear God. Money? Now?" I said, throwing my coat across the back of the chair again.

"Business before pleasure... makes good fences."

"The saying is, 'good fences make good neighbors' not..."

"Bob's friend knows what Bob say. Not want money to be sticky bug between us."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. How much this time?" I asked aggravated, removing my wallet.

"Bob not know about such things. Must speak with cousin," he said, wrapping a huge arm around the tiny man, pulling him to the other side of the room.

"Bob, you gave me your word," Fred whispered forcefully, sending a pointed finger into Bob's chest.

"Fred say, must think about it. Fred likes Bob's friend Peter, wants give good price," he said, smiling in my direction and then began to speak rapidly in Russian.

"Damn it, Bob. You promised me," Fred whispered disappointedly.

"Fred say, four hundred dollars," Bob said, holding up four fingers of his right hand, all the while maintaining his grip on Fred's shoulder.

"Three hundred," I countered, folding my arms, returning my wallet to my hip pocket.

"Oooh, Bob's friend breaks Bob's feelings. Bob's friend would steal bread from Fred very mouth?

"It's not in Fred's mouth just yet... three hundred," I insisted.

~Meet Tegon!~

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 mine 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.

Tegon Maus will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour!

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