Today we're excited to spotlight The Point by John Dixon.
Read on for more about John and his book, an excerpt, plus an giveaway!
Meet John Dixon!
John Dixon’s Phoenix Island and Devil’s Pocket won back-to-back Bram Stoker Awards and inspired the CBS TV series Intelligence. A former boxer, teacher, and stonemason, Dixon lives in West Chester, Pennsylvania, with his wife, daughter, and freeloading border collie.
Meet The Point!
What if you had a power you had to hide from everyone--until now? In this bold sci-fi action thriller, a secret training program at West Point is turning misfits into a new generation of heroes.
Scarlett Winter has always been an outsider, and not only because she's a hardcore daredevil and born troublemaker--she has been hiding superhuman powers she doesn't yet understand. Now she's been recruited by a secret West Point unit for cadets with extraordinary abilities. Scarlett and her fellow students are learning to hone their skills, from telekinetic combat to running recon missions through strangers' dreamscapes. At The Point, Scarlett discovers that she may be the most powerful cadet of all. With the power to control pure energy, she's a human nuclear bomb--and she's not sure she can control her powers much longer.
Even in this army of outsiders, Scarlett feels like a misfit all over again, but when a threat that endangers her fellow students arises from the school's dark past, duty calls and Scarlett must make a choice between being herself and becoming something even greater: a hero.
~ Excerpt ~
“You came here as children,” keynote speaker
Senator Wesley Ditko said, “but you leave here as men and women.”
was typically beautiful in the Philadelphia suburbs, but
today the sun beat down mercilessly on the 411 graduating seniors
seated before the stage. Their suffering families sagged along open
Master Sergeant Charles Winter, U.S. Army, retired, gray-haired
and bespectacled, sat ramrod straight on the top bleacher, watching
the proceedings with a stony face that betrayed neither pride nor
Mrs. Winter, resplendent in a bright yellow dress, moved incessantly,
fanning herself with the graduation program. She shifted in her
seat and whispered to her son.
Sergeant Daniel Winter, U.S. Marine Corps, sat as straight as his
father but failed to replicate the man’s stoicism. He beamed, proud
and relieved. His kid sister actually was going to graduate after all.
“A plane in its hangar is safe,” Senator Ditko said, and smiled
down at the fidgeting seniors, pausing to make eye contact with the
valedictorian: his daughter. “But planes aren’t meant to sit in hangars.
Ladies and gentlemen, you are clear for takeoff. Spread your wings
Principal Santana returned to the microphone, her face shining
with perspiration, and began calling students onstage. Douglas Abbey
stumbled coming up the stairs but caught himself and gave the
crowd a big grin before shaking the principal’s hand and accepting
One by one, students crossed the stage. Whatever each had
or scholar, geek or dullard, stud or square—it
now. He or she had run the gauntlet, surviving the thirteen years of
institutionalized insanity that constitute the American public school
Mrs. Winter fanned her face, which grew redder with each passing
Principal Santana called, “Demarcus Winslow.”
Mrs. Winter tucked the makeshift fan into her purse and grabbed
the hands of her husband and son. “Here we go.”
This was it.
After all these years, all these worries—troubles
at school and
problems with police and endless emergency room visits in which
nurses cooed over her pretty daughter, the girl with a wild streak, a
daredevil who seemed to have broken every bone in her body—her
baby finally was graduating.
Wild but sweet, her Scarlett. Always sweet and loving, full of kindness.
Mrs. Winter loved her husband and son, but they were cold and
as her own father had been. Not Scarlett. Scarlett was her
heart, her only warmth in the Winter household.
The long suffering was finally over. At last, a new beginning.
Principal Santana called, “Scarlett Winter.”
Mrs. Winter laughed and leaned forward, her vision blurry with
tears of joy.
There was a brief pause.
From the student seating, choppy bursts of laughter rattled like
“Scarlett Winter?” Principal Santana repeated.
No one stood. No one climbed the stairs. No one crossed the
More laughter rippled through the crowd, and for a frantic second
Mrs. Winter feared she might join in with a peal of hysterical
Principal Santana cleared her throat. “Jeffrey Wood.”
boy whooped loudly, charged up the stairs, and
Frisbeed his mortarboard into the applauding crowd.
Mrs. Winter dropped her face into her hands and sobbed.
Master Sergeant Winter, his mouth a grim slash across his sunburned
face, stood and nodded to his son. Together they took Mrs.
Winter’s arms and helped her to her feet. If not overtly sympathetic,
the men were inarguably gentle and protective. Fiercely so, even.
As the family made its slow descent, people turned to watch
with sympathy, amusement, or horror. Master Sergeant Winter stared
straight ahead, betraying nothing.
The eyes of the broad-shouldered
Marine, however, burned with
rage. Marching stiffly toward the parking lot, he growled, “Where the
hell is Scarlett?”
By: John Dixon
Publisher: Del Ray Books
Release Date: August 7th, 2018
Three winners will each receive a copy of The Point (John Dixon) ~ (US Only)
*Click the Rafflecopter link below to enter the giveaway*