Top Dell Sweet books on Amazon


Feb 27, 2018

Kindle Edition

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The Earth’s Survivors series on Nook

Earth’s Survivors: Apocalypse: This is a free Nook eBook! Follow the survivors

Earth’s Survivors: Rising From The Ashes. Those who have survived begin to rebuild…

The Nation: Adam and Cammy have made their way as best they can despite the gangs.

Earth’s Survivors: Home In The Valley. The valley is safety, until the first mission out…

Earth’s Survivors: Plague. The plagues have come. The living must fight or join the dead…

Earth’s Survivors Watertown: Two of the virus were missing, enough to infect millions Previews!

World Order: The Fold becomes the biggest challenge to the Nations power. #Nook #eBook #Horror FREE Previews!

All of Dell Sweet’s books on Nook, paperback and eBook formats… Earth’s Survivors, Short Stories, more. #Stories

Earth’s Survivors box set contains the entire Earth’s Survivors series in one volume.


iTunes The Zombie Plagues links

iTunes The Zombie Plagues links


The Zombie Plagues Book One

The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 1

Geo Dell:

The Zombie Plagues Book Two

The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 2

The living have fallen only to rise again as the living dead… #iTunes

The Zombie Plagues Book Three

The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 3

The struggle for life is contested by the dead, if you lose they win #Zombie #iTunes

The Zombie Plagues Book Four

The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 4

The living turn the tables and begin to hunt the dead.

The Zombie Plagues Book Five

The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 5

The new society of the living faces major problems that may break it.

The Zombie Plagues Book Six

The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 6

Plague is the new book in the Zombie Plagues series. How the Undead Apocalypse started… #Undead #Zombie #Horror

The Zombie Plagues Box Set

The Zombie Plagues – Box Set

He came awake in the darkness, but awake wasn’t precisely the term. Alive was precisely the term #Dead #zombies

The Zombie Plagues Dead Road

The Zombie Plagues – Dead Road

The Collected books. The complete Zombie Plagues collection in one volume #Undead #Dead #iTunes


Earths Survivors The Zombie Killers: Origins by Dell Sweet

Earths Survivors The Zombie Killers: Origins


Earths Survivors The Zombie Killers: Origins by Dell Sweet


August 4th

We were down along the river checking over some of the old buildings that are perched on the cliffs there, high above the water. Fall was not far away, and we knew we had to get moving, get out of this dead city. We had half the country to cross and find a place before winter came back around again.
We had left the others in our place off the park – an abandoned factory building I had found after I had lost Donita – and struck out looking for food earlier that morning. With the park and its crowds so near to us, the shops and small stores for blocks around us were stripped clean. Another reason to get out of the city. It was time. I remember thinking that as I walked along.

I was thinking back to March as I walked. Not really paying attention to the walk, where I was going… March… Just a few months ago, but the world was still the world then. And for the next little while there, we didn’t even know about the dead. Dead was still dead. When you closed your eyes for the long eternal sleep you didn’t wake up a short minute later as something else. No. We were ignorant up until they decided to come after us. Ignorant. Stupid. Didn’t know a thing. Didn’t have a clue.
I had been in Central Park a few days after the first earthquakes hit. I had left Donita alone and went down on my own to see what the deal was. I found out nothing. No one knew any more than any one else. There was a lot of speculation, but that was it. There had been earthquakes. It had rained hard for nearly twenty four hours straight. The really freaky stuff hadn’t happened yet. We were just starting down our new path, but what was clear was that thousands of people had died in the city, maybe more than thousands, maybe a million or more. And certainly millions if the damage here was the same across the country… or worldwide.

And my initial estimate turned out to be a kind. In the city alone: collapsed buildings, fires, exposure to the elements because there was no shelter. There were millions of bodies. It was not so bad in those first few days, but a few days later, when the smell of the dead rotting under the rubble began, it was horrible. The diseases started then too. And the diseases took thousands more, and we thought that was the end of it, but it was not. The dead came next. The same dead, newly risen to some other sort of life. But that day in Central Park I did not know about the dead yet. I had no idea what was ahead; what was before me was bad enough…

The Zombie Killers are the men and women who keep the new settlements safe for the other Earth’s Survivors. Those in the Nation and those in the Fold, and the many independent colonies that would not be able to exist without their help and intervention. They are the ones who search out supplies, fight the Zombie Plagues and live in the constant danger of the real world so that the others can live in the safety of their settlements.

In this first book they come into their own as a team and set themselves on the true course that they will follow from then on, with one mission only: To wipe out the Zombie Plagues infesting the world and make it a safe place to live and die once more. Whether through fighting them or finding the reason and the cure for the Zombie Plagues that have infested the world.

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Necro by Dell Sweet


Dell Sweet

This book can be downloaded and read in iBooks on your Mac or iOS device.


He had been lying half in half out of the gutter for the last several hours that he knew of. He had no idea how long before that. Days? Weeks? Weeks seemed wrong. Days, he decided. He turned his attention back to the roadway before him. Was it a roadway? When he thought roadway, he thought highway, something like that. From what he could see this was more like a city street.
It had never occurred to him in the passing hours to move his head, but the thought of it being a street in a city had caused him to move his head slightly so he could look around to be sure. Slightly, but enough to know he could move it. And he had moved it enough to know it was a city street. And if he could move it that much…
His face came away from the asphalt with a wet sucking noise and he nearly stopped. Expecting pain to come. Expecting the sky to fall. Expecting something, but nothing happened. The sucking sound stopped when his face finally pulled free and he pushed off with his hands and found himself in a sitting position. He flexed his jaw, it worked; tended to click when he moved it quickly, but perhaps it was just residual of… Of? He couldn’t make it come… Something… Some accident? Maybe… He pushed harder with his hands and rose to his feet… Shaky but holding him upright. He took one tentative step and then another. Moving off down the street in search of anything that could calm the hunger in his belly…

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Star Dancer Free Preview from Dell Sweet

Star Dancer Free Preview from Dell Sweet


Copyright 2017 Dell Sweet all rights reserved.

Cover Art © Copyright 2017 Dell Sweet

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the author’s permission. Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.

03-19 06:33:02

Twenty Seven

Main Trap

The main trap was exactly as it sounded a trap between the free world and one of the largest prison colonies in the known worlds. Two officers in separate bubbles, both outside the trap itself, controlled the comings and goings. All entrances and all exits were announced to shift sergeant’s colony wide, no access in or out was granted without documentation.

As Far as Superintendant Sam Ellison was concerned Twenty Seven was a super max facility classified as a max. That meant that it went well over the threshold of security for a max prison and came in just under the official super max classification: Lacking the certification because they did not possess a thirty foot wall that completely surrounded the facility.

Superintendant Ellison had petitioned to be moved to the super max classification despite the wall. His argument was short but eloquent: Although they did not possess the necessary wall they did have an absolute barrier, an atmosphere that could not sustain life. Anyone breaking out of Twenty Seven may not have to then scale a thirty foot wall, but they would die in seconds from the lack of oxygen and most likely they would begin to freeze to death before that occurred; or find themselves burning up, dependent upon the phase of the Martian day.

Four soldiers decked out in full riot gear; including fully loaded laser rifles stepped from an el lift at the end of a transport hall just outside of the main trap and looked over the area. Another group at the opposite end of the hall came to attention, spread out across the front of the entrance to the trap, a two story steel monstrosity made of chrome carbon-steel bar work that could not be moved without the machinery that had been specially designed to move it. Before that machinery could be activated both of the bubble officers would be in radio contact with one another and reach complete agreement as to the authenticity of the orders for the movement.

The four officers stepped back into the el, took custody of the prisoner from two other officers that had remained in the el to secure the prisoner and got him moving.

Kenneth Rowland shuffled forward, the chains that bound him and the heavy footfalls of the soldier’s boots were the only sounds in the short hall. He wore a chain around his waist: A second chain ran down to the chain on a set of ankle cuffs and was joined to that chain via a heavy double keyed padlock. His hands were chained with a few short links to the waist chain, also joined with a heavy double keyed padlock. He wore finger spanners that kept his fingers separated and spread apart as well as disabling flexing more than two fingers at one time. A final chain snaked away from the waist chain to an appliance truck that carried a small, metal file cabinet stuffed with files pertaining to his charges and cases, both on Earth and here on Twenty Seven. A soldier pushed the truck. A lawyer representative walked beside Rowland carrying a small camera to record the procedure live to courts on Earth and Twenty Seven. It would also be retained as part of the permanent record.

The ungainly crew moved quickly down the short hall, the soldiers hustling Rowland along faster. When they reached the gate the soldiers there parted and formed a complete circle around Rowland, the lawyer was cut out; left standing on his own. Two soldiers separated from the group and faced the lawyer, watching him carefully: It was not unknown for an attack to occur from a lawyer that had been planted for just that purpose. In 2099, to protest the end of a half century of Fed rule, a Martian law representative had detonated a half ounce of fiber-gel explosives he had combed into his hair in this very trap killing thirty two people. With the rebuild had come the bug lights which could deal with all known manner of electronic and bio bugs, explosives and tagging equipment. The Feds had many enemies.

A series of bug lights in the overhead ceiling came on and almost simultaneously grills mounted in the walls came to life. The air current was stiff and steady. The first lights killed everything biological, and the air movement kept the contaminants moving out of the space. After three minutes the lights died down and a second set of lights came up bathing the hall in blue light. The second set of lights carried destructive electronic impulses within the light wave that would destroy any electronic circuitry. The total time was just under seven minutes. The lights cycled down once more and the regular lights came up. Shorty after that the big doors began to move.

Rowland looked around the narrow hallway. There would be no chance of escape. If he tried anything at all he would most likely wind up dead: And if you were dead it was all over with anyway; so he would bide his time and wait. There would be something. Some mistake and when it happened he would be ready for it.

“Move your ass scumbag!” One of the soldiers gave him a quick shot to the kidneys. The lawyer was blocked and would never see it he knew. Rowland bit down hard, a slight trickle of blood running away from his lip where he had bitten it. He refused to cry out. The door finished its travel and he shuffled into the center of the trap, the lawyer left behind.

03-27 02:20:09

Star Dancer

Mike clicked his Log-link on: “Intra System Cruiser Star Dancer. Present: Michael Watson chief operating officer: Petra Stanovich Navigation officer. Two hours ten minutes and fifteen seconds out of Mars Twenty Seven. Contract FQHPX2879 concludes. U.P.T crew Twenty Nine, one additional crew, see addendum CL44988 per U.P.T crew manifest… Stop two will be Mars One for a tech drop… Contract 771926F… Our last drop will be IO Six… Prefab buildings plus one, to total three now, see addendum 279916BX… Out.”

Petra looked up from where she was programming her navigation interface and smiled. They were at slow speed, orbit maintenance speed; and Mike watched the surface of Mars slip by far below as Petra prepared to break orbit and head for docking at Mars One. He took one last sip of coffee, drained the cup; popped it into an in-seat holder and belted himself in for descent…

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Introducing America The Dead from Dell Sweet, Geo Dell and Jay Watson

Introducing America The Dead from Dell Sweet, Geo Dell and Jay Watson…


America The Dead The Zombie Plagues. The dead begin to rise faster and the world falls to them Paperback:

America The Dead book 7: The Zombie Plagues. Show down with the dead as the living push back. Kindle:


Zombie Fall For some there is safety but to keep the safety some must sacrifice and risk everything Paperback:

America The Dead book 6: Zombie Fall: A supply trip nearly spells the end for the Nation Kindle:


The group of survivors looking for peace and a place to rebuild comes closer to what they seek Paperback:

America The Dead book 5: War at Home 2. The survivors are on the road looking for safety Kindle:


In a top secret facility a virus is created that brings on the #Zombie  Paperback from Amazon Paperback:

America The Dead book 4: War At Home 1. The end comes, few are ready, fewer still survive Kindle:


America The Dead Manhattan, The city is a landscape of gangs and the risen dead. The living are safe nowhere Paperback:

America The Dead book 3: Manhattan. The city falls to the plague. A group of survivors fight their way out. Kindle:


America The Dead Los Angeles. A couple finds there way through the deconstruction and death of L.A. Paperback:

America The Dead book 2: Los Angeles. The city of L.A. is shaken, Beth and Billie find their way out Kindle:


America The Dead Begins the end. A series of events begins that will bring all of society to its knees Paperback:

America The Dead Book 1: Begins the end. A small New York town hosts the beginning of the end Kindle:


Zombie Kindle Edition by Dell Sweet

Zombie Kindle Edition

I am here in this farm house that Lana and I found a few weeks back. By myself. Lana is gone. I sat down here to write this story out before I am gone too. Maybe that sounds melodramatic, but it isn’t. I know exactly what my situation is.
We have been to Manhattan, outside of it, you can’t go in any longer, and we came from Los Angeles, so we know: It’s all gone, destroyed, there’s nothing left.

The Graveyard:
The moon rode high in the sky. Moonlight gleamed from bits of gravel in the dirt road that lead into the barn. Silence held, and then a scraping came from the ground, muffled, deep.
At the edge of the woods, eyes flashed dully in the over-bright moonlight. Shapes shifted among the trees and then emerged from the shadows onto the gravel roadway. One dragged a leg as he walked, clothes already rotted and hanging in tatters. A second seemed almost untouched, a young woman, maybe a little too pale in the wash of moonlight. She walked as easily as any woman, stepping lightly as she went. The third and fourth moved slower, purposefully, as they made their way to the freshly turned soil. They stopped beside the grave, and silence once again took the night, no sounds of breathing, no puffs of steam on the cold night air.
“Do you think…?” The young woman asked in a whisper.
“Shut up,” the one with the dragging leg rasped. His words were almost unintelligible. His vocal cords rotted and stringy, no air in his lungs to move his words. The noises came once again from the earth and the four fell silent… waiting…
A hand broke through into the moonlight. A few minutes later a young woman’s head pushed up, and then she levered her arms upward and began to strain to pull herself up and out of the hole. She noticed the four and stopped, her pale skin nearly translucent, her black hair tangled and matted against her face and neck. Her lips parted, a question seeming to ride on them.
“It’s okay,” the young woman whispered, “it’s okay.” She and one of the older ones moved forward, fell to their knees and began to scoop the dirt away from her with their hands.
“It’ll be okay,” the young woman mumbled in agreement through her too cold lips.
“It will… It will,” the other woman repeated…

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The Guitar Works Big Book on Amazon

The Guitar Works Big Book 

The Guitar Works Big Book contains sections on finish work: Information that you can use to do your own finish and spot repairs on guitars step by step to teach you that you can come very close to perfect results every time. You will learn to apply a lacquer finish to your guitar. I have provided examples of Both Acrylic and Nitrocellulose lacquer, and full paints as well as spot repairs on various instruments in my shop. Repair work: Whether we are customizing a guitar, repairing a fractured neck, refretting a beloved instrument or building our own guitar from scratch, there are those of us who love to work on and modify our guitars. I have done so for many years and I build hundreds of guitars in the process. This manual is designed to get you comfortable with doing your own neck repairs, refretting jobs and cutting, shaping and installing your own nut or saddle. It covers a complete rebuild of a damaged neck: Fret board removal, truss rod installation; it will show you how to radius the new board and install new frets. This will cover a snapped neck, where the neck is cracked in two. How to make a lasting repair and the order in which to do the multiple repairs you will need to perform to do that. It will show you how to take a bone blank and turn it into a saddle; how to get the shape and measurements you need to accomplish it: How to install it and set it up to your own tastes. This manual covers repairs that can save you hundreds of dollars in a professional shop. It can allow you to save money purchasing guitars that need work and give you the confidence that you will be able to perform the repairs yourself. I will also cover four complete custom guitar builds from top to bottom, both electric and acoustic; including: Fret work, Sound board work. Bridge manufacture and placement. Making a new nut, saddle, installing an electric bridge. Setting up action. Leveling frets. Building an acoustic top. Building an electric body from wood to finished product. Bolt in neck as well as set neck. Six and seven string acoustic. Neck inlay and much more. Pickup placement and why, piezo disc elements, volume and tone potentiometers. Wiring. Custom wiring and tuner placement. E.Q. installation and much more. Fully photographed with hundreds of images, diagrams and over 60.000 words of text to help you understand the processes. This will cover many techniques start to finish and four complete custom builds as well as two smaller beginner builds.

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War. Verse by Geo Dell. Book Links…

War. Verse by Geo Dell. Book Links…

WAR Copyright 2017 Geo Dell…

What if you were standing in your own yard and the world was the same. Great. Safe. Comfortable. And you were standing there in your yard. Just a kid, a man, a woman, the day right there before you. Feeling like the world would always be the same.
And this safety was all that you had known, ever. And the sun was shining in the sky. And then the tanks rolled in. And the soldiers with their guns. The noise incredible. The soldiers glancing at you as they walk past you. Like they know your name.
And everything changed. Your yard was not your yard anymore. Just a piece of dirt and grass with tank tracks running across it. But the sun is still shining… How can that be? And the soldiers are soldiering, they don’t speak. It’s like they don’t even care.
And you turn away but it is the same all around you. Your friends in their yards. Looking at the same blue sky, the same bright sun. The same tanks. The same soldiers with the same guns. They don’t speak either, but the same questions are on the air.
And you feel like the black clouds should move in and blot out the sun. The bright day should not exist in this world that your eyes see. You blink but it doesn’t go away, refuses to change. Your whole world has changed and a minute has not expired.
The tanks, clank, clank, clank, on their way to where, you wonder. And the soldiers step, step, step, one foot follows the other never questioning where. The children begin to cry. You think to wipe your own tears from your eyes, but find you are too tired.
The tanks, the soldiers, the sun in the blue sky. The day that started as your own…
The noise, the fear. Time is moving, but you don’t know where it’s going…

Addiction Conversations with my fathers 

The mental health unit: Age thirteen, suicide attempt three. I can’t remember when it all changed between my father and me. There was a time in childhood where I was still willing to forgive the fact that his sister molested me for a very long time, he knew about it and did nothing, as a kid it’s easy to overlook those things. Those are things you think about later in life. Things that will destroy you or cause you to try to destroy people around you if you don’t get them fixed. I know we were okay. We owned a house. My mother and father were together. They were successful I thought, but then my Dad used to take me for rides with him. He’d pick up friends, then girlfriends then they would do sh*t in the back of the car. Right in front of me. We had one of our few conversations and it ended with him telling me, “Don’t tell your mother.” I didn’t, ever. Not even now. I think in my kid brain everything worked: Was working. Why mess it up? But then he left; leaving us with no money, car, nothing. Just left. I tried suicide for the first time the year before at about twelve, or just turned twelve. The time before that had been accidental. Sniffing glue and I passed out and stopped breathing for a few minutes. It was funny because my friend did nothing. Didn’t call for help, nothing. Squeezed some more glue into the bag and went at it. I have his word that I stopped breathing, but he was high and I have always wondered if that part was true. I tend to be a show me and I’ll believe it type of guy. If I don’t see it I don’t believe it. Maybe I’m not so much like that anymore, but I absolutely was for many years. The thing is I started breathing again on my own and when I came out of that I had this fascination with death. It just called to me. I can’t explain it any better. Maybe the release of all responsibility, pain, hatred. Maybe. So not long after that I tried suicide again. I took every pill I could find and swallowed them. Prescription pain pills, aspirins. A few hundred pills or so. And I washed it all down with alcohol. I nearly died, but while I was in that place of waiting where my body was away from me, I had no pain. There was no one that was hurting me, using me, trying to rape me. Nothing. I wanted to stay there so bad, but they got enough stuff in me to make me puke most of the pills back up and I lived. Sick for a while, stomach permanently messed up, but alive. They sent me to the Mental Health Unit after the second attempt that year, my third try at suicide. I was there for thirty days; an automatic hold, but they were constantly telling me that if they didn’t want to let me go they could keep me. My parents had signed the paperwork they needed. I can remember one or two groups. It was my first experience with group and I hated it. I was disruptive, refused to talk; told people to go f*ck themselves and generally didn’t make any friends on the staff or any of the people there who were actually trying to get better. I had two sessions of one on one counseling. I remember the counselor’s name, although I won’t include it here. A nice guy: Honest, straight forward. The second session is when things went bad. We were talking along and I felt comfortable with him so I told him I had been sexually abused. Everything stopped. He went and got his supervisor, the supervisor and he got into an argument outside the door, the up thrust of which I heard through the door: There is no money in this, no way to pay the bill, we’re letting him go, so don’t explore that. To be honest I wasn’t that surprised. I spent my last few nights on the Mental Health Unit getting to know a girl a few years older than me. I was surprised at how alone they left us when they went off to do whatever they did. We sat in the cafeteria while she slipped her panties off and let me peek under the table. No one came in at all. Just a few short months later I was living on the streets. Addicted to speed and alcohol…