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That's enough to get you interested, right? Add in a hero who takes very little seriously with a cool, snarky attitude to everything around him, from writhing on the floor in a yellow puddle to the alien doctor's attempt to speak teen. And a plot that involves open-heart surgery, a road trip from bathroom to bathroom and a cute sassy blonde.

Mix it up with a bunch of psychotic alien raptors and you've got a coupla hours' sure fire entertainment. Don Falloon's writing has humour, wit and pathos in equal measure - in short - it rocks like a Journey concert.


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What can I say? I loved this book. I can wrap my head around this. I love the Caltrans humor, only thing there should have been only one shovel. I loved the locations in this book, great description of I-5 north of Sacramento.

HEART of EZDAR

Great chemistry between the characters. I recommend this book for a fun read that you can finish in a weekend. I couldn't put the book down. I just finished reading this book, and I thought I was a great read. The characters have a sense of humor and wit that kept me into it, when I wasn't sitting on the edge of my seat wishing I could kick some butt and find out what was gonna happen next!

I'm hoping there will be a sequel to continue this story! Get to Know Us. Delivery and Returns see our delivery rates and policies thinking of returning an item? See our Returns Policy. Visit our Help Pages. Audible Download Audio Books. Shopbop Designer Fashion Brands. The death and destruction left in their wake draws the attention of law enforcement and eventually Homeland Security, led by the attractive but no-nonsense lady agent, Greer.

To complicate things further, Jason comes down with a serious case of love at first sight for the pretty federal agent. All he has to do is survive his dilemma and get past her blatant dislike of him. At the literal heart of all of this is The Key. The Ezdarians want it. The Krytons want it. The United States Government wants it. The only one who doesn't want it is Jason Hayward, who must somehow survive 72 insane hours and 1, hard-fought miles of self-preservation, self-defense, and self-sacrifice as The Heart of Ezdar.

I was saturated in it. I was drowning in the color pink. Bluish shadows suddenly dotted the pink, looming larger as they approached.

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They stopped and floated near me, but remained undefined. I sensed something reaching toward me, a dull notion until the image focused and formed into blue hands. Hands with flowing fingers — more like tentacles, really — hovering over my chest, toying with something. I suddenly felt… disconnected… hollow. I strained to lift my head.

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Gazing down, I witnessed the flowing hands holding a heart. A beating human heart, pulsing and writhing within the grasp of the blue tentacles. I fought to suck air into my lungs, straining my chest as I consciously fought to create the vacuum to feed needed oxygen to my body before I…. Something broke; something gave.

Heart Of Ezdar | Scifi Story by Don Falloon | Inkitt

In an instant I was inhaling cool air, wheezing shrilly as I gasped and quickly filled my starving lungs almost to bursting. My chest heaved as I panted audibly like an old, abused accordion.

My eyes snapped open. Gone was the pink. I was on my back in a dark room fragmented with streaks of light that appeared to shoot off in every direction while my ears were assaulted by a sound that I felt as well as heard; a bizarre blend of the whooshing of a jet, the whipping thumps of helicopter blades and a body-numbing buzz saturating the air around me. I suddenly realized I was in my bedroom and sat bolt upright in my bed. To my right, the entire length of the windows that fronted my bedroom was splashed in a bright, white light from what appeared to be a string of headlights at window level, split repeatedly with horizontal shadows by the blinds against the panes.

As if a switch had been thrown, there were no more bright lights, no disorienting sounds. When my eyes adjusted again, the still room around me was painted with a palette of grays and indigos borne of night; my ears now hearing only my own labored breaths and the muted barking of a dog somewhere in the distance. I chanced a glance at my bedside clock; 2: I was bathed in sweat. It rolled off my face and trickled down my bare chest, while still more droplets traveled down my back.

My sheets were soaked with my salty excretions and clung to me like a second skin.


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I gingerly peeled the fabric away and turned to climb from my bed. A static spark snapped sharply when my feet touched the carpet. Knees shaking, I stood up weakly and padded the few steps to my window. Slipping my fingers between the blinds I scanned the night sky before shifting my gaze to the vacant street below, but found no activity anywhere outside my window.