After many years of thinking about it but not much else, I finally dug in and wrote my first piece of fiction. An actual book! And it only took about ten years from concept to published. Which, honestly, isn’t bad for someone whose previous literary output consisted mainly of grocery lists and the occasional blog post. And maybe, you know, that other book… and then that one… Okay, I like to write!
If you’ve been around Frazzledad for a while, you might remember a post I wrote back in 2023 about bedtime stories. Specifically, about a little spy character I invented one night while family camping with our then-9-year-old son Zachary. I called him Zack Taggart. I wrote a rough first chapter in a notebook, felt pretty good about myself, and then promptly forgot about it for almost a decade.
Well. The notebook resurfaced. And this time I actually finished the thing.
From Bedtime Story to Actual Book
When I dusted off that original chapter, I realized pretty quickly that it needed more than a polish. The original Zack was nine years old, and the writing reflected that — simple sentences, broad humour, a villain who was essentially a cartoon. It was a bedtime story for a little kid, because that’s exactly what it was.
But Zachary isn’t nine anymore. And frankly, neither am I. At least not in years lived…
So I made a decision to let the character grow up a little. Zack Taggart in The Bucerías Anomaly is a young teenager — sharp, calm, quietly confident, and I think a lot more interesting than his nine-year-old predecessor. The gadgets got more nuanced. The plot got more layered. The writing got more sophisticated. I stopped writing a story for a child and started writing a story that a young adult — or hopefully, any adult — could sink their teeth into.
The town of Bucerías stayed. Miguel stayed. The mysterious lights stayed. Even the outhouse made a cameo. But everything around them grew into something I’m genuinely proud of. And something I had a lot of fun writing.
A Word About the Illustrations
But here’s where I have to come clean about something, and specifically ask forgiveness from my two kids, one of whom is going to read this and give me an earful.
The cover artwork and illustrations are 100% AI generated.
I know, I know. Zachary, put down whatever you’re about to throw. Beth-Rose, that look on your face is very familiar and I deserve it.
Both of my kids have strong feelings about AI in art, and I respect that. They’re not wrong. In an ideal world I would have hired a talented illustrator and paid them properly for their work. But this is not an ideal world, and I am not a wealthy man. The economic reality of self-publishing a first novel is that the budget for illustration sits somewhere between “very little” and “absolutely nothing.”
So I used AI. Strictly for economic reasons. No other agenda. And if a human illustrator ever wants to take a crack at Zack Taggart, I am genuinely, enthusiastically open to that conversation. As long as it’s for free. Or a trade.
The Bucerías Anomaly is a young adult spy thriller set on Mexico’s Pacific coast. Zachary is now 20. His sister Beth-Rose is 17. Neither of them has read a single word of it yet — because I’m printing them each a paperback copy as a gift. No pressure, kids.
The Book
Here’s what the book is about:
When strange lights appear over the beach town of Bucerías, Mexico, most people pull out their phones. Zack Taggart pulls out his field kit.
Zack is a teenage operative for the International Spy Agency, and this case is unlike anything he’s seen. The lights aren’t drones. They aren’t fireworks. And the energy behind them has already proven it can destroy.
What starts as a seventy-two-hour investigation draws Zack into a world of corporate intrigue and experimental technology — and a physicist whose work may be far more dangerous than anyone is admitting.
Zack has the data. He has the training. He just needs everyone to listen before it’s too late.
The Bucerías Anomaly is a fast-paced young adult adventure set against the stunning backdrop of Mexico’s Pacific coast.
And because I would love for you to read it, here’s chapter 1 of my book, Zack Taggart: The Bucerías Anomaly.
Also just a note about the formatting below. This is copied from my Google Docs, so it is not formatted as a book. The actual download is.
I hope you enjoy it, and if you decide to, you can download a digital copy of the complete book, with the link below. Just enter whatever amount you’d like to pay, and I’ll send you the book as a PDF. Read it anytime, on your computer or mobile device. And let me know what you think.
I haven’t decided if I’m going to put it on Amazon, maybe just as a Kindle ebook. We’ll see.
I do have an idea for my next one. This time it’s with a Beth-Rose based character…
CHAPTER 1 – Lights Over The Bay
The first light appeared just after sunset, when the sky over Bucerías had faded to that deep blue color between day and night. Restaurants along the beach were filling up with the usual mix of locals and tourists. Music drifted out across the sand in bursts – guitar chords, laughter, the clink of glasses. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth looking up for.
Then someone did.
A small green light hovered above the shoreline, steady and bright. At first it could have been a drone or a distant plane, except it didn’t move like either one. It didn’t glide, or blink. It just stayed there, silent and waiting.
A second light joined it. Blue this time.
A third appeared – red – forming a loose triangle against the darkening sky.
Conversations slowed. Heads tilted up. Phones came out.
The lights shifted positions, but not by drifting. They snapped from one spot to another, like someone had folded the air between them. A ripple of whispers spread through the growing crowd.
“Drones.”
“Fireworks setup.”
“Military test.”
“Aliens.”
The lights got brighter. More joined them, layering color upon color until the sky looked filled with floating glass beads. Kids pointed. Tourists filmed. Restaurant servers stepped outside to stare.
Then the colors merged.
Without warning, the cluster squeezed together into a single brilliant column of white light that shot downward toward the beach.
For one impossible second, the night was brighter than noon.
The beam hit an old wooden outhouse standing where the beach grass met the sand – a forgotten structure worn down by salt air and sun. It vanished in a burst of splintered boards and flying sand, the impact cracking through the night like a tree branch snapping.
The light disappeared.
Darkness rushed back in.
Music from the restaurants stopped. No one moved at first. The only sound was the steady hush of waves rolling onto shore and pulling back again.
Then voices began to rise.
Questions.
Shouts.
Someone laughing nervously.
Far off, faint sirens cut through the quiet.
More joined them.
Within moments, the peaceful edge of night gave way to chaos.
Hundreds of kilometers away, no one could hear the sirens.
Zack Taggart leaned closer to the glow of his screen, elbows on his desk, chin resting in one hand. The room around him was dark except for the scattered pools of light from his monitors. Each one showed different information – satellite images, weather readings, pattern overlays shifting in faint colored grids.
He played the video sequence again.
Three lights.
Triangle spacing.
They moved in ways that didn’t match any normal flight path.
He paused the footage and adjusted the contrast, focusing on the movement patterns. His eyes narrowed slightly, not in confusion, but in concentration.
“That’s not random,” he said quietly.
A soft chime came from another screen. New data incoming. He barely glanced at it, already reaching for his stylus to sketch trajectory guesses across the digital overlay.
The pattern held.
Zack sat back, folding his arms as he studied the result. Anyone else watching this might see a cool light show. Or coincidence. Or maybe broken drones.
But the timing was too precise.
The movements too deliberate.
The energy spike too focused.
He tapped a few keys, flagging the event in his own tracking system.
Six seconds later, his room lights dimmed automatically as a secure channel forced its way onto his main display.
A neutral symbol appeared.
INTERNATIONAL SPY AGENCY
PRIORITY CONTACT REQUEST
Zack allowed himself the smallest hint of a smile.
He accepted.
The screen shifted to a calm, professional voice.
“Agent Taggart, we’re authorizing deployment for an unusual aerial event detected over Bucerías, Mexico.”
Zack nodded once. “I’ve been watching it for the last six hours.”
A brief pause followed – subtle, but noticeable.
“Understood,” the voice replied. “Mission details uploading now.”
Zack straightened in his chair as data streamed across the display. Forty-eight-hour response window. Unidentified energy phenomenon. Government attention increasing.
He reached for his field kit without hesitation.
“Ready when you are.”
Zack stood as the transmission closed, the glow of his monitors fading back to their steady hum. In the dim light, his room looked exactly like what it was – and what it wasn’t. Posters of spacecraft and distant galaxies covered the walls, half hidden behind shelves stacked with game cases and paperback books. A controller lay near the edge of the desk, pushed aside to make room for the screens and equipment now flickering with incoming mission data. To anyone else, it might have looked like a typical twelve-year-old’s bedroom. To Zack, it was both home and headquarters – the place where homework, high scores, and global mysteries competed for his attention.
Zack crossed to the narrow cabinet beside his desk and slid open the top drawer. Inside, foam inserts held a small collection of field equipment arranged with careful precision – compact, portable, and chosen for flexibility rather than having everything. He scanned the contents for only a moment before making his choices.
A palm-sized drone, matte black and folded up like a resting insect, went into a side pocket of his pack. Next came his decoding lenses, their lightweight frames catching a flicker of monitor light before he set them carefully into a protective sleeve. He hesitated briefly, then added a multi-scan module – useful for different situations – and snapped the compartment closed.
He didn’t overpack. Experience had already taught him that guessing at unknown conditions usually meant bringing the wrong tools. The Agency could send more equipment once he figured out what he was dealing with.
Zack slung the compact pack over one shoulder and turned back toward the monitors, where the deployment authorization had shifted into countdown mode. He adjusted the strap, steady and calm, more focused than excited.
“Standing by,” he said.
Zack paused at his doorway before starting the deployment sequence. The house beyond was quiet, lit by the soft glow of a hallway nightlight. He stepped out and tapped gently on the open door across the hall.
His mom glanced up from the data projections on her tablet, understanding immediately.
“Agency?”
“Bucerías. The lights everyone’s been posting about. Forty-eight hours.”
She set the tablet aside, not startled or worried, just listening. Years ago, she’d handled field missions of her own, and the tone of Zack’s voice told her what she needed to know.
“Did they clear it with your father?”
“He signed off before they called me.”
From the living room came his dad’s voice. “Confirmed. Satellite division flagged it. I approved it an hour ago.”
Zack leaned against the doorframe. “I’m packing light for now. I’ll request backup if I need it.”
His mom studied him for a moment, the professional look fading into something warmer. “You trust your read on this?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “Good. Trust your instincts too. Being smart isn’t just about data.”
His dad appeared in the hallway, holding out a small device. “Updated tracker. For my peace of mind.”
Zack clipped it inside his pack. “Always.”
No long speeches. No drama. Just a family used to unusual work.
His mom smiled slightly. “Be careful. And call if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Zack returned to his room and closed the door behind him.
Zack stepped back into his room and shut the door, the quiet click sealing off the house behind him. The monitors had shifted into deployment mode, countdown numbers pulsing steadily across the main screen.
00:00:18
He set his pack in place and rolled his shoulders once, steadying his breath. The air felt different when a jump was about to happen – not heavier exactly, just charged, like the moment before a summer storm.
“Agent Taggart,” the ISA voice returned through the room’s speakers. “Stand by for transport lock.”
Zack planted his feet.
A faint shimmer spread across the floor beneath him, almost invisible at first – like looking through water. The edges of the room seemed to soften, colors losing their sharpness as if everything were gently going out of focus.
“Lock confirmed.”
The hum came next. Low. Deep. Felt more in his chest than heard in his ears.
Zack focused on a point straight ahead, calm and practiced.
“Deploy.”
The shimmer folded inward.
For a fraction of a second, there was no floor, no walls, no ceiling – only motion without direction, weight without gravity, sound without source.
Then everything vanished.
