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Jonathan Epps
Goodreads Author
Born
in Summit, NJ, The United States
Website
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Member Since
November 2021
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Until Morning Comes
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No Winter Lasts Forever
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published
2019
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3 editions
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A Pale Song
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Good Man, Good Woman
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published
2020
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2 editions
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Three Stories
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published
202
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Preview of THE NEVER NOT YES
Preview of THE NEVER NOT YES. I aim for publication later this year.
Political division. Welcome distractions. Looming civil war: American society in the near future, a one-time limitless civilization, exploited by narcissists whose selfishness results in the permanent failure of the nation’s power grids. Within which, a band of survivors give up the hate to take a stand between a gang of plantatio Read more of this blog post »
Political division. Welcome distractions. Looming civil war: American society in the near future, a one-time limitless civilization, exploited by narcissists whose selfishness results in the permanent failure of the nation’s power grids. Within which, a band of survivors give up the hate to take a stand between a gang of plantatio Read more of this blog post »
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"Jonathan Epp’s lyrically prosed true crime thriller “Until Morning Comes,” follows the course of Ava Rose Anderson, born into poverty yet knowing she was destined for more. Sex trafficked as a teen, she becomes complicit with the ring in a reverse-St"
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“But oppositions have the illimitable range of objections at command, which need never stop short at the boundary of knowledge, but can draw forever on the vasts of ignorance.”
George Eliot |
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Thank you for this review. Until Morning Comes will be available for free on Amazon for the next five days, starting tomorrow!
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“Over the years and throughout the decades of his adult life, Pap Hardy had made such a number of enemies that the local watering hole had kept a tally, crossing off each name as they moved, died, or inexplicably disappeared from the town in demonstration of Pap’s endurance and will to outlive and outstay any and all who’d opposed him. A self-will strung with desiccated cat gut. An iron mind riveted to justice. A heart enlarged by duty. e last of his kind.”
Jonathan Epps |
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Jonathan Epps
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“I half expected to hear that stupid cackling laugh again, but there was just the fluttering of new leaves blowing in the cooler breeze. The sunken moon sat on the cosmic ledge like a judge sentencing me to doom. In the bright moonlight, I felt the depth of my ineptitude. To throw off my rage at the world, at myself, I picked up a rock and chucked it across the field, and then I went back home.”
― No Winter Lasts Forever
― No Winter Lasts Forever
“I had to keep living as much as I fought against that fact. I quit my job. And I hit the road. I figured I would do nothing but wander, for however long I could manage it, spending a month here and there, wherever. Maybe to relax. Maybe to escape. Maybe to sort through the turmoil within me.”
― No Winter Lasts Forever
― No Winter Lasts Forever
“She told herself, finally, that she must face it or die . . . But this was just a whisper in the self, that flutter within which starts as a tiny plea and fights to grow in strength and resonance. So, she stood by it and fought for it, but not before her life and her love took the losses redemption almost always exacts from the redeemed.”
― Until Morning Comes
― Until Morning Comes
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“Brian quieted but seemed lost, more than confused, mystified by his father’s voice and its modulations, looking off toward the dusty sunset behind the yard’s tree-lined enclosure. It hadn’t rained in weeks, so the dried-out detritus of the branches, the dandruff off birds’ wings, speckled the fiery blaze like pixie dust. The boy pointed toward its shimmer and said, “Tubbies!” somewhat urgently. “Tinky-Winky,” he clarified bashfully, forefinger at the edge of his mouth.”
― A Pale Song
― A Pale Song
“Memory was especially obstructed when his wife retold events her way, invariably decimating his remembrance of the same thing. Maybe all we have are idealized versions of personal history—idealistically good and idealistically bad, for narrative’s sake. Something feels good and right or bad and wrong about an experience, and it is remembered for that feeling alone—perhaps not a feeling felt at the time, but something sticks and stays, and an entire narrative, a subservient universe is constructed to remember that time, that thing, that version of life in that one particular way. No, he thought, the theory seemed too absolute to be right. Memory had no evidence. No conclusions were possible but speculation.”
― A Pale Song
― A Pale Song
“She sort-of batted her eyes at him. He leered a little longer. Then she rolled her eyes and turned away. But it didn’t feel like a rejection, more like a tease. If he had been more practiced in the art of male chauvinism, he may have swaggered over to her side for a bit of self-promotion. More from ignorance than from enlightenment, he smiled and nodded to the empty space in front of him, embarrassed by the confusion she had conjured just for him, and any like him, who might have been observing her moves.”
― A Pale Song
― A Pale Song
“Over the years and throughout the decades of his adult life, Pap Hardy had made such a number of enemies that the local watering hole had kept a tally, crossing off each name as they moved, died, or inexplicably disappeared from the town in demonstration of Pap’s endurance and will to outlive and outstay any and all who’d opposed him. A self-will strung with desiccated cat gut. An iron mind riveted to justice. A heart enlarged by duty. e last of his kind.”
― A Pale Song
― A Pale Song
“But oppositions have the illimitable range of objections at command, which need never stop short at the boundary of knowledge, but can draw forever on the vasts of ignorance.”
― Middlemarch
― Middlemarch
