Daniel Sandoval has had versions of this story haunting his fevered mind for decades, and the only way to placate a frustrated muse is to manifest something, to entangle her with at least the threads of what may lead to fulfillment. Whether these lines weave a snare or tapestry, ultimately, it matters not, for the story is told and he is freed to his next literary campaign.
While telling this tale, the author sought other pursuits, as when he married a woman his equal in will and spirit and intellect—an arrangement not entered into by the fainthearted. And Mr. Sandoval continued his tenure as an elected official of a city in the western United States.
This is his fourth published novel, and his first work of science fiction, should he be pressed to label its genre. As with all his books, they defy categorization. This is also a romance, a character study, and a theological essay.
When his turn came, Steven said, "When I grow up I'm going to be the last man on Earth."
Warning signs don't come much clearer than that.