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Daniel P. Douglas

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2024

Stories (16)

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13 Followers

8 Following

16 Stories

304 karma pts

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With His Boots On

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #297

IN THE EAST, a faint rose and gold ethereal light hinted at dawn breaking through the deep indigo of the night. Nathaniel Everett sat still on the weathered porch steps of the ranch house, his eyes fixed upon the distant horizon where the jagged silhouettes of the Sawtooth Mountains stood etched against the brightening firmament. The air hung still and cool around him, carrying the mingled scents of sage and pine from the surrounding foothills.Within the house behind him, the old man lay dying.Nathaniel rolled a cigarette, the ritual offerin...

3 likes

Tides

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #295

Drew bolted upright, sheets tangled around his sweat-drenched body. The digital clock glowed 4:13 AM in angry red numerals that pulsed in sync with the throbbing behind his eyes.Fluorescent lights. Metal desk cold against his palms. Walls painted institutional gray. A stern voice: “Captain Reeves, these reports are unacceptable. The operation failed because of your negligence.”The dream clung to him like seaweed. Drew moved carefully to avoid waking Sunny. Her blonde hair spread across the pillow, her face peaceful in the pre-dawn darkness. ...

7 likes

The Spook Who Sleuths: Case of the Immortal Curse

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #295

RAIN DRUMMED AGAINST my office window like a junkie’s fingers on a pawnshop counter. I nursed a ghostly approximation of bourbon—can’t taste the stuff anymore, but old habits haunt you just like, well, ghosts.Name’s Roxie Hart, supernatural P.I. extraordinaire. Been dead since ‘45 after I zigged when I shoulda zagged during a particularly dicey OSS operation near Berlin. Now I solve the cases that leave the living scratching their noggins.My door creaked open—I keep it that way on purpose, good for the atmosphere—and in stumbled a fella look...

7 likes

Polar Arcadia

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #294

THE SHUTTLE WINDOWS frosted over as Jack Graves made his final approach to Arcadia's dome. Its perfect hemisphere stood stark white against the endless black sky and blue-silver ice of the polar landscape. No stars penetrated the atmospheric haze—just the distant sun hanging low on the horizon, casting long shadows across glacial plains.The landing pad extended from Arcadia’s southern edge, a metal arm reaching into the wilderness. Graves guided his shuttle down, its landing struts compressing with a groan as they accepted the vessel’s weigh...

6 likes

Seeds of Deception

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #293

THE SHUTTLE rattled through Ganymede’s upper atmosphere, metal hull protesting as super-heated oxygen scorched the exterior plating. In the economy cabin, Zeph Garner gripped his armrests, counting seconds until the shaking stopped. Atmospheric entry ranked as his least favorite part of interplanetary travel, though the statistics assured passengers this constituted the safest era of space flight in human history. Statistics provided cold comfort when you felt your atoms might separate at any moment. The turbulence subsided as the craft push...

6 likes

The Water Finder

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #291

SOREN FELT the water first—a deep reservoir, ancient and untouched, thrumming like a bass note beneath the settlement. The vibration started in his chest and spread upward, building pressure behind his eyes until he tasted metal on his tongue. He broke the connection immediately, his hands trembling as he steadied himself against the hull of his crashed ship. Three miles down, at least. Too deep for this settlement’s equipment, and far too deep for him to sense without consequences. “Find anything interesting?” The voice belonged to Elara, t...

8 likes

The Humanity Protocol

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #290

Dr. Conrad Huber regulated the neural suppression field while studying the developing embryos. Each sphere beat with a soft blue light, synchronized to the frequency that would guarantee emotional stability in the final products. The latest batch—Series 2157—stood out as his most efficient. He made a note on his tablet, recording subtle improvements in genetic sequencing that would mitigate the chances of deviation. One embryo flickered with an irregular pattern, drawing his attention. As he leaned closer, the light caught his reflection in ...

7 likes

Live, Die, Repeat

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #289

“The room is unfamiliar. I don't know how I got here.”The hospital room’s antiseptic scent masked deeper notes of mortality. Medicines, decay, and the essence of ambition's final hours lingered in the air. Through dissolving consciousness came mechanical sounds, oxygen hiss and morphine drips creating a requiem of medical machinery. No family waited at his bedside. No prayers accompanied his passing.“Where am I?”Somewhere distant, a nurse dropped a metal tray. The crash expanded outward, each wave carrying fragments of unraveling awareness. ...

8 likes

The Great Space Coffee Caper

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #288

The Federation designed the FDV Perfect Blend Mediator-class diplomatic vessel for complex negotiations and first contact scenarios. This ship, commanded by Captain Penumbra Luna, and others like it, had a reputation throughout the galaxy for their extensive conference facilities, cultural exchange centers, and ability to host and serve multiple diplomatic delegations with only the best roasted coffees. Their motto: “Where Differences Dissolve Like Sugar in a Well-Stirred Cup.” An annoying klaxon on the Perfect Blend’s bridge announced a thr...

10 likes

Cupped Before Us

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #287

A raw November morning in 1742 and a distressed visitor, Miss Eleanor Whitmore, greeted Sarah Hampton as she began her work in Williamsburg’s Blue Anchor Tavern. Sarah, daughter of the tavern keeper, gathered tea service for her weary guest with innate respect and diligence.Miss Whitmore sat with misplaced London sophistication in an empty dining room of this colonial tavern. Morning sunbeams peeked from behind low, dark clouds and shone through a small window, casting dim illumination across the scarred oak table where Miss Whitmore sat.&nb...

5 likes

Preacher Man

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #286

THE MORNING I stole my daddy’s gun, the summer heat had already baked the dew off the grass. I remember the metal felt warm when I wrapped it in my mother’s old shawl—the blue one she’d worn to church every Sunday before the preacher man came to town. Before Jenny disappeared. Before we stopped going to church altogether. Daddy kept the Colt in his bedside drawer, loaded with five shells, one chamber empty. “Safety first,” he always said, though safety seemed a strange word for a weapon that had taken three men’s lives during his days as a d...

7 likes

A Commodore 64’s Last Stand

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #285

The fluorescent lights of the National Technology Museum’s acquisitions room buzzed like a chorus of judgmental crickets. I’d been sitting there for three hours and seventeen minutes. Being a computer, counting—like hours and minutes—was just something I did. Like breathing, except I didn’t breathe. And at that moment, I was trying very hard not to count the number of times this alleged “tech expert” had checked his ridiculous smartwatch. Twenty-seven! He had checked it twenty-seven times! “Next candidate,” Professor Plug-and-Play called out...

8 likes

We Make Magic

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #284

The Bringer of Late Frosts and Freezes lounged on his favorite cloud, watching mortals scurry about below like ants preparing for winter. Zerio—for that was his proper name, though few bothered to use it—twirled an icicle between his fingers, its crystalline surface catching the afternoon sun. His latest masterpiece of meteorological mayhem had turned three counties' worth of spring flowers into frost-bitten disappointments. "I leave you alone up here and now you're brooding again," a firm, warm voice called from behind. "I should've known b...

6 likes

The Stage Stop

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #282

Thomas Cooper pressed his forehead against the cold panes of the front window, watching snowflakes swirl in the gathering dusk. The glass held the bite of Wyoming Territory’s fierce spring weather, but he welcomed the chill - it kept him alert as he studied the road where it emerged from Carter’s Pass. From his favorite perch in the window seat, cushioned by his mother’s patchwork pillows, he could see half a mile down the road. He’d watched the same view every evening for thirteen years, ever since his parents had taken over Last Creek Stag...

5 likes

The Spook Who Sleuths

Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #272

My office was darker than FDR’s fireside chats and twice as smoky. That’s how I like it—keeps the clients on their toes and the spirits at bay. Name’s Roxie Hart, and I’m what you might call a supernatural tomfoolery private dick. Some folks get their knickers in a twist over that last word, but in my line of work, you gotta call a spade a spade and a detective a dick. I kicked back in my chair, feet up on the desk, pondering life’s great mysteries. Like why dames always fall for the wrong guy, or how Spam manages to be both a wartime delica...

26 likes

Author bio

Daniel P. Douglas is the pen name for identical twins Phillip and Paul Garver. Phillip is a U.S. Army veteran who also served as a senior analyst in the U.S. intelligence community. He retired from federal service in 2023. Paul’s career includes over 30 years in the museum profession. He has worked for cultural and historic sites in California and Virginia, as well as for the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C.

Phillip and Paul enjoy writing science fiction, conspiracy, mystery, suspense, and thriller books and screenplays. Their characters are often ordinary people who tread into a collision course with destiny, where survival means confronting personal flaws and fighting for good in the eternal battle against evil. Daniel P. Douglas has been named a Foreword Reviews 2014 IndieFab Book-of-the-Year Awards Science Fiction Finalist and is a Readers Favorite Award winner.

They explore this theme in a number of published works. Their first novel, “Truth Insurrected: The Saint Mary Project,” centers on a decades-old government cover-up of contact with extraterrestrial life. The “Wild Frontier Chronicles” series - coming soon - is comprised of sci-fi adventure stories set in the late twenty-fourth century at the fringes of human civilization. Their “Richter's War” series blends sci-fi with hard-boiled intrigue in Los Angeles during World War II.

Born and raised in Southern California, Phillip moved to Arizona to attend college, and Paul moved to Virginia to further pursue his museum career. Both have travelled extensively across the United States and around the world. They now reside in New Mexico with their families and many pets.