You are cordially invited to a night of dinner, drinks, and murder.
Eccentric tech billionaire Winston Vise has invited eight guests to his secluded home in the New York countryside. His mission: to find investors and buyers for his new line of artificially intelligent synthetic humans. After a lavish evening of drinking and feasting, Winston takes the stage in the conservatory to begin his pitch. But when the demonstration takes a sharp turn into murder, his prospective investors find themselves trapped in the sprawling manor with a killer and no way to call for help.
The doors open automatically at sunrise. Will there be anyone left alive to see it?
A friend messaged me the other day. Let's call him Bort. No, let's call him Steve. Steve is a normal and completely real person, just like me, and we share many of the same interests, such as staying healthy, trusting science, and acknowledging the basic human
“Uh… hi, this is Bob Newhart calling from, uh, the… well, I guess you’d call it the ‘Patriotic Apparel Compliance Office,’ if that’s still the name. Right. Good. “…Yes, yes, I got the memo. That’s why I’m calling. I, uh… well, it says here that starting
Spoilers for Death Stranding 2 ahead.
There’s a moment in Hackers when Dade Murphy, aka Crash Override, aka Zero Cool, is poking around Kate Libby’s laptop. He notices the specs and starts rattling them off to prove he's in the know: Dade: It has a killer refresh rate. Kate: P6 chip. Triple
I’ve been trawling through literary agent websites lately, and I’ll tell you what: each one has their own quirky little rules. Some want a guaranteed happily-ever-after. Some will accept robots, but only if they're unattractive. And still others insist that the protagonists must be a lesbian
Last night, for maybe the thousandth time, I watched Hackers on my phone while delivering some packages in Death Stranding 2. It’s the cinematic equivalent of comfort food: dope-ass graphics, neon lighting, and dialogue that I was never cool enough to fully understand. If you’ve spent any time
After more than twenty years in the (self-)publishing world—and eight consecutive New York Times bestsellers—I still get a little thrill every time I open my inbox. It’s not the awards, not the movie deals, not the lavish praise from critics that keeps me going. No, it’
August 5th, 2025. Portland, Oregon. Portland is two hours ahead of Austin, so I woke about 3:45 a.m. ready to conquer the day. Unlike previous adventures where Dom has organized a precise, value-maximizing itinerary for us, this year, I was in charge. In classic Verastiqui style, that meant
August 4, 2025. Portland, Oregon. When I told people we were headed to Portland for our 2025 Family Adventure, the common reaction was: Why? Even Dom, once we arrived, asked more than once: What were you expecting to see? Their skepticism made it seem like Portland was just a random
By the end of the 1980s, my dad's Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme was starting to show signs of aging. As a kid, I knew nothing of the mechanical problems plaguing The Great Silver Beast, but something must have been wrong if we were borrowing my grandmother's car
I recently finished another revision pass on House of Nepenthe, a process that felt like trying to get a long sofa up a spiral staircase, and I didn't even have anyone screaming pivot at me the whole time to keep me motivated. For context, Vise Manor came out
Author's Note: Here's an unused Robert Hargreaves chapter that didn't quite go in the direction I needed to. When you're dealing with multiple POVs driving towards a single devastating conclusion, you have to make sure none of them lag behind, and that