Let me get this out of the way right now. This isn’t real, none of this happened. The events talked about here are fictional, fake, untrue. Except for the ones that aren’t. Which may… possibly… be all of them. So yeah, to recap, this isn’t real, except for all of the parts that are. Got it? Because I don’t want to hear about this later.

Anyways… Welcome to the Aurora Wasteland,

cue The Jurassic Park theme,

The Twilight Zone door,

The X-File badge,

The Lost fade

or whatever gets you in the fucking mode for the Strange. (Shit, can I say fuck? Oh well.)

If you are squeamish, this isn’t for you. What I’m about to tell you will nudge you from your comfort zone. It will open your eyes to things you’d wished you kept them closed for. Like knowing that your parents fuck, because they do, a lot.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Moving on… What is the Aurora Wasteland? Simple. It’s an area that lives beyond man made borders. A place where the strange and weird thrive. A place made up of places you hoped didn’t exist. Hmm… probably shouldn’t have used the word place there twice, frick you’re a writer man, you’re supposed to be better than this. Whatever... A place made up of people you wouldn’t want to meet. People you wouldn’t want to be, because escaping from the nightmare that is the Aurora Wasteland, well, that’s just not possible. That’s pretty heavy. I like it.

Ok, Listen… I’m going to tell you a story. And it’s going to cross media, mostly YouTube, podcasts & my novels. The Novels are where the heart of the story is going to live.

But the Strange and the Details live everywhere else.

This is all going to take a while (shit, that’s kind of a vague timeline, but oh well), but it’s all going to make sense at the end. I promise.

Aspects may not seem related. They may seem like a monster of the week from time to time, but they aren’t, except for the ones that are. So, pay attention. I’m only going to tell you this story once. I don’t want to repeat myself, and I don’t want to hear your bitching later.

I should probably point out here that I’m a writer, and my name is Vaughn Ashby.

Welcome to the Aurora Wasteland.