Book Tour: No Greater Illusion By K. Baskett

No Greater Illusion
by K. Baskett
Dystopian
Self-published
Ebook, Paperback
318 pages

Book Trailer

Buy Links: eStore | Amazon (Print) | Amazon (Kindle)

Book Description:

In the very near future, surging advancements in technology have afforded American citizens with a number of conveniences. Of these, most notable is the SmartTag, a microchip embedded under the skin between index finger and thumb, housing all manner of personal information such as bank account details, medical history, voter registration and more.

This tightly-woven tale follows the lives of several very different people - Tealia, a free-spirited and intelligent photographer battling with conflicting emotions for her ex-lover; Mercer & Viera Scott, a power couple barely holding on to their marriage as the priorities of success and parenthood slowly become skewed between them; impoverished single mother, Naria, content with her reliance on both her current lover and government assistance to make ends meet; and the Holton family, wealthy beyond measure, enjoying carefree days of privilege and luxury.

Their status quo, however, is about to be undermined as America reacts violently to the brutal assassination of a highly esteemed female presidential nominee on the evening of the debates. As the entire nation struggles to make sense of the ensuing chaos, fear and distrust ramp up to dizzying heights. The end result is a series of grave consequences that will drastically alter life as they know it, making them all wonder how much of their world is but an illusion.

A captivating story that is at once gripping and dark, this brilliantly painted picture of a dystopian America cautions against the power of technology and the folly of taking anything for granted. Haunting and lyrical, No Greater Illusion is an astounding debut novel with a powerful message that lingers long after the final page is read.

Excerpt:

THAT NIGHT, I BECAME an eye witness to murder. The cop who pulled the trigger might have claimed it was "self-defense" or "protection from an imminent threat," but all I saw was a 90-pound woman brandishing a lug wrench that was almost too heavy for her to lift.

"Conspiracy!" she yelled at the top of her lungs and used all of her might to swing the weapon at a nearby car, shattering the driver's side window.

"Stand down," ordered the nearest police officer in a booming voice, as he and countless others surveyed the entire riot scene unfolding before us.

"Never. We want justice," the lady screamed, successfully breaking out the rear passenger's side window this time. The officer made a move toward the woman and she turned to him, struggling for purchase as she raised the lug wrench over her head. A crazed expression morphed her face into a vacant wasteland, so that she appeared to be gazing at and through the officer at the same time, eyes and mouth sloping downward, gaping. She looked to be coming straight from the office, dressed conservatively in a pencil skirt and high heels, which I noticed because they were so inappropriate. Skinny as the tool in her hands, she posed little to no physical threat and could have easily been subdued by some other method, so I was surprised when the police officer drew his gun.

"I'm warning you. Stand down," the officer growled, his eyes two hard pebbles of flint, sparking as he aimed the gun squarely at the woman's heart.

She moved with no forewarning and surprising quickness. Like a lioness, she pounced, and got close enough to the officer to be able to see the color of his eyes before he fired his weapon. It was nothing like in the movies. His gun made more of a popping sound rather than a loud bang. In all the noise it could have been mistaken for something else, like a car backfiring or a tire exploding. She collapsed instantly, freefalling, slamming to the pavement with so much force her body seemed to bounce once before landing in a final thud, facedown, her fist still clutching a tool used for changing flat tires. Her entire back was a mass of gore from the exit wound, blood so dark it looked black in the low light, soaking her smart silk blouse and pooling around her body in an ever expanding puddle.

Even in the midst of the mayhem, there seemed to be an almost pure silence that descended over the immediate circle of people surrounding the woman's corpse. Their stillness attracted even more attention than the gunshot and the crowd around the fallen woman grew. The officer began to slowly back up, a look of dread on his face. He spoke into his shoulder radio, "Two-forty-eight requesting backup at Sixth and Watson. Code thirty. I repeat: I need units at Sixth and Watson, immediately."

The officer's call for backup shifted the crowd's focus from the dead woman to him.

"He did it," someone spoke clearly from the group. "The cop."

The officer continued to step backward, gingerly almost.

Another yell came from my right. "Ol' racist ass cop!"

The crowd closed in and began to slowly advance toward the officer. I stood on the perimeter, not sure if I wanted to get involved.

"Fall back," the officer ordered, pointing his gun into the crowd now, aiming in the general direction from where the slur came.

Various shouts rang out in response, more people getting agitated now and too many of them yelling at once to clearly decipher any one phrase.

"I will not hesitate to discharge my weapon," he warned.

We see that, I thought. Obviously he was ready to pull the trigger yet again.

The closer the crowd got, the more the officer seemed to be losing his aura of authority, his confidence getting smothered by fear, his eyes now showing uncertainty where before there was boldness. Not a soul had responded to his call for backup. The city's police force was sorely understaffed and everyone knew that in this chaos there weren't nearly enough officers to go around. The gun trembled slightly in his hand as he pointed it at the closest target, a young black man in his early twenties advancing to the front of the crowd. He was shirtless, wearing nothing above the waist but several large black tattoos, his athletic body coiled with intent.

"Crooked cops," the young man stated passionately, as a matter of fact. "I fucking hate the police." He glanced back at the others and raised his voice with that last statement.

They thundered their hearty agreement.

"So what we gonna do about this racist motha fucka?" the young man snarled, having assumed leadership of the crowd by their earlier assent.

"Don't try me," the officer shrieked. He made another useless call for backup, panicked and on edge. The crowd had backed him into a wall and like any cornered animal he was ready to attack.

"Grab him!" The suggestion came in the form of a growl.

The young man sprang forward, all that tension uncoiling from his chiseled muscles in a single smooth leap. With a wild look in his eye, the officer pulled the trigger. In his agitation, he actually missed the young leader and instead his bullet found someone else who screamed out in agony as their flesh was torn. This indiscriminate shooting incited the crowd even more, and in the time it took the cop to fire another shot into the group, he was completely buried under a pile of angry bodies, swarming around him like bees to the hive.

My Review:

The following review is my opinion and not a paid review. I was given a free copy of the book from the author for my honest opinion.

Tealia Jameson thinks that sitting at a desk behind a computer all day is a slow way of dying. Oh sure there are benefits to it like paid vacations, health and dental insurance and let's not forget about the fact that you do get paid on a weekly bases. Tealia is a photographer, freelance, it doesn't pay very well but it is what she loves doing. Tealia on her way to Central Park decide she didn't want to drive so she walked a few blocks to the Personal Rapid Transit Station or PRT and rode in a podcar. The PRT sounds to me like a train it rides on tracks in the treetops. She waved her hand under the SmartTag scanner, a device that reads the microchip that is implanted under her skin between her forefinger and thumb.

Tealia had a boyfriend about six months ago before they broke up and Edrain will not leave her alone. He keeps calling her telling her he loves her but Tealia wonders if he actually believed what he was saying. Tealia thinks that she is a selfish person and she can't do anything right. Since her break up with Edrian if she hears about anyone else's relationship falling apart or some is getting a divorce it puts a little spark in her heart. It makes her feel like she is not the only one that can't keep a relationship working. She doesn't feel a like she is a failure. The reason she has all these feelings is because Edrian had made her feel that way. The whole time she and Edrian were together he made her feel worthless like she was capable of doing anything right. It was like if she cooked it was too hot or cold. If she didn't cook she was a no good for nothing piece of sh*t. She was damn3d if she did and damn3d if she didn't. Edrian is the one with the problems not Tealia. He is just a controlling freak who acts like a two year old and wants everything his way.

Viera Scott and her husband Mecer are trying to have a baby but are not having much luck. Viera is 35 years old and would like to have a child before she is too old to deal with it or take care of it. When they first married they would have sex everyday but day it has become like a chore. Trying everything in the book (pun not intended) to get pregnant has become very stressful. Viera is getting old can feel it in her bones. Most people say she is not that she is still young but Viera knows things are different not right. She has problems with knee it makes cracking noises and sometimes it buckles on her. She has problems with her lower back aching and some mornings she wakes up with a bad headache, her eyes are getting worse. She wants to have a baby so bad she wants to be a mother but she fears with her failing health that having a baby might just add to all her health problems. Not to mention the fact that she might not be able to take care of a child like he/she would need. Viera is the International Brand Manager at a major consumer goods company. The job came with a lot of responsibility but it had its benefits as well like a corner office and the best assistant anyone could ever ask for. Her assistant was Elke Yaunders and she really was the best.

Mercer Scott hated going home he knew when he got there it would be empty his wife Viera would not be there. There was never a hot meal waiting for him when got there and he was getting tired of fast food. Viera was always out at some fancy restaurant with clients. Viera wanted a baby so bad and believed that her time clock was running out real quick. Mercer thought that all he was to her was a sperm donor. Mercer was getting very tired of his married life with Viera, his work life and maybe even his own life too.

Quinn Holton is a married woman she quilts college early before getting her degree but as it turned out she didn't need it anyway. After meeting her husband Dyer they both fell head over hills in love with each other. Quinn became pregnant early on in their relationship and that is why she quilt going to college. She moved in with Dyer and they were married before the baby was born. Dyer wouldn't let Quinn work he wanted her to stay home and take care of their baby, keep the house clean and have a hot meal on the table when he got home. This was more than ok with Quinn she loved doing all those for Dyer she loved making him happy. Quinn loved her life with Dyer she the way it was.

Governor Ceinwen Jarvis was the first woman and black presidential nominee. A lot of people thought this was cool and thought hey America is growing up and putting aside childish things. But yeah they were a lot who will never grow up. When Governor Jarvis was shot down in cold blooded murder people started rioting. They were breaking in to stores and taking whatever they wanted. Some people were just going around right in the middle of town and just shooting people for no reason. The National Guard was called in to help the police get everything under control. People were destroying their own home towns all over the world.

I can't believe how the Government was treating people, human beings as if they were no better than dogs. What happen to these people's Christianity? What happen to love your fellow man? What happen to love everyone and treat everyone like yourself? Did "God" tell them to do this? I don't understand all the hate that people have built up in their hearts. Good people who have worked hard their whole lives and then have everything taken away from them. Their whole lives destroyed by someone hitting a few buttons and a click. What makes this book so scary is the fact that it could actually happen in our lifetime.

No Greater Illusion was a very well written book once I really got into it I couldn't put it down. I just had to see what was going to happen next. I just couldn't believe all the violence that was going on and how a human could treat another human in such a manner.

About the Author:

Jack of all trades, master of none - save for the art of procrastination - K. Baskett lives by the motto, ""Never do today what can be put off until tomorrow."" K. firmly believes that you aren't really interested in the author's hometown, spouse, children or pets, and has therefore decided to spare you the details. No Greater Illusion is the author's debut novel.

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