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Showing posts with label except. Show all posts
Showing posts with label except. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Novus Monstrum The Midnight Zone Book 1 Edited by Douglas Gwilym & Ken MacGregor + giveaway

These monsters are never-before-seen.
These monsters bite, and don’t let go.
These monsters aren’t your grandparents’ boogeymen, but they are not tame, and they want to climb right down into your nightmares and make you their own.

Novus Monstrum The Midnight Zone Book 1
Edited by Douglas Gwilym & Ken MacGregor
Genre: Weird Creature Horror Anthology

“Mysterious, merciless, mirthful. New favorites await you in this superb anthology.”
-Johnny Compton (author of Spite House, Esquire best horror book of 2023 and Stoker longlister)
This may look like just a book, but NOVUS MONSTRUM could infect your brain, shake your sense of what’s real, change you forever. This is twenty-two all-original new monster tales from the greats: Jonathan Maberry, Joe R. Lansdale, Gabino Iglesias, Gemma Files, Gaby Triana, Ramsey Campbell, Jeffrey Thomas, Gwendolyn Kiste, and Lucy A. Snyder, plus thirteen stories from new names (see below) destined to become some of your favorite authors.

These monsters are never-before-seen. These monsters bite, and don’t let go. These monsters aren’t your grandparents’ boogeymen, but they are not tame, and they want to climb right down into your nightmares and make you their own.

Welcome to the new anthology series The Midnight Zone.

Ken MacGregor, editor of the Shirley-Jackson-Award-nominated anthology Stitched Lips and the uproarious Burnt Fur, teamed up with Bram-Stoker-Award-nominated short story author Douglas Gwilym, editor of Appetites and Harmony & Dissonance, to take you to strange and dark new places. They’ll ask you to go deeper and weirder than The Twilight Zone, to a place (like the real-world midnight zone, a mile beneath the ocean’s surface) where no sunlight penetrates. Join us as we explore the inhospitable, surprising, uncomfortable, bizarre, and otherworldly.

Go on. Dive in. Lose yourself to The Midnight Zone.

Also Featuring:
Amanda M. Blake
Joshua Bartolome
Matt Brandenburg
R.A. Busby
Marco Cultrera
E.C. Dorgan
Douglas Ford
Sarah Hans
Jamie Lackey
Donna J.W. Munro
Frank Oreto
Tim Pieraccini
Pris Sears

Includes:
A Grace of Finer Form - Post-apocalyptic survival tale. The monsters are mutants: amalgams of living creatures, one so enormous it rivals the Titans of myth.

Brother Bone - A giant, living skeleton that feeds on the skeletons of its victims (by ripping away the flesh and meat) and using the bone fragments to expand itself, in return granting its family effective immortality.

First Day Jitters at Slappy’s - The monsters are living theme-park mascot characters. It’s far more disturbing than it sounds. This one is bonkers.

God Damn You to Hell, John Glenn - The monster is a massive, mutated, extremely hungry…sea monkey.

I Clean the Monster that Killed My Husband Every Morning - A vicious anti-pollution tale, the monsters are creatures that come up from below the earth and violently destroy any machine that creates pollutants, and whomever happens to be using them at the time.

Lizard War - Translucent giant lizards swarming across the alien landscape. The “astronauts” are all women, and the main character, Eliza, who was the cook before everything changed but is now in charge, loses her lover Joan in a climactic scene. She floats out into space, “her blood hanging in drops around her like falling rose petals, her hair fanned out like a peacock’s tail….”

Mother Ship - Machine/organic spaceship and her godspawn child.

The Path of Skulls - Sexless, cube-headed simulacra and deep arcane mystery.

Song of the Devil Trumpet - Quite lovely trees that trick you into eating their fruit so they can take over your body and repurpose you.

Wonce was a Woman - The monsters are human female/office machine hybrids. A woman goes looking for a mythical monster woman who is foretold as a sort of savior–and ultimately finds it is herself.

With an introduction by the amazing Jamie Flanagan, screenwriter for Haunting of Bly Manor, Midnight Mass, Creepshow, and Fall of the House of Usher, and original cover art by the astonishing Trevor Henderson, internet cult phenomenon, creator of Siren Head, and weaver of monsters!

 
I Clean the Monster that Killed My Husband Every Morning

“Everybody knows where they were [that day]. If you don’t, it’s because you died…. The monsters came from underground, digging their way out fast as lightning. Dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions….Of course, the first thing on everybody’s mind was an alien invasion. Alien soldiers waiting under the surface deep enough that humanity never spotted them, buried by some extraterrestrial civilization eons ago, biding their time until humanity was deemed worthy of conquest…. The trouble with that theory was that they targeted only machines. Yes, billions died, but just because they were inside them, around them, holding them or on the path to them.”


“Shoulders… tight and broad, they are the widest part of its body. If you look at them from a foot away, the black skin appears thick, and impossibly smooth, like leather stretched on a kettledrum… the densest muscles ever to hang on the skeleton of a living creature. The smoothness is also an illusion. Even the gentlest drag of my fingertips reveals that the skin is made of tiny fibers parallel to each other, curving around the body.”
 
“It’s the subtle stickiness, like a layer of molasses a few atoms deep, that makes lifting your fingers off take an extra moment.”

“Bullet holes are the only marks on the monster’s body left from the attack, but they don’t go deep, a quarter of an inch at most. The experts on the radio have explained that the blood flowing inside the monster turns to acid in contact with metal, dissolving [a bullet] before it can do harm.”

“Sounds of machine gun bursts made me look outside the window and I saw the monster, my monster, for the first time, all seven feet of deadly force. It had just killed Mr. Donovan and was charging our house.”

“The monster stopped in front of me, its dark skin smeared in grime, with drops of thick liquid falling off and blotching my living room carpet. Its head turned, and I saw its eyes, two deep holes ending in yellow sparks…. [T]he monster began smashing through the floor with its blades, opening a direct path to the furnace in the basement.”

“I arrived at the front door just in time to see the monster plunging into the trunk of George’s car, which had only made it halfway through the driveway. The blades [of the monster’s hands] cut my husband in half, on their way to the front engine. The car exploded, engulfing the monster in flames. I didn’t move an inch, until all that could burn had burned, leaving the monster standing still in the wreckage…. I found the monster’s eyes just before the sparks faded to black.”

“In the first hour of the attack, waves of monsters, all the same shape as mine, but some as tall as a three-story building, targeted all the power plants burning fossil fuel, with no distinction between oil, carbon or natural gas.”
 
About the Editors
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Amazon-Goodreads
Douglas Gwilym has been known to compose a weird-fiction rock opera or two. His short story “Year Six” is on Ellen Datlow’s recommended reading list for Best Horror 14. He edited Triangulation for four years and now co-edits The Midnight Zone—forthcoming edition, Novus Monstrum, a collection of never-before-seen monsters, featuring original stories by greats, and new voices, in strange, dark fiction. He reads classics of the proto-Weird on YouTube and has been guest staff at Alpha Young Writers workshop. His short fiction appears in LampLight, Lucent Dreaming, Novel Noctule, Shelter of Daylight, Tales from the Moonlit Path, Penumbric Speculative Fiction Magazine, and Tales to Terrify.

Website-Facebook
Amazon-Goodreads
 Ken MacGregor has written three story collections, an award winning young adult novella (Devil’s Bane), and has co-authored a novel (Headcase). He is a member of the Great Lakes Association of Horror Writers and an active member of the Horror Writers Association. He’s also written TV and radio commercials, sketch comedy, a music video, a one-act play, a scattering of poems, and a zombie movie. Ken has curated three original anthologies, one of which (Stitched Lips) was a finalist for the Shirley Jackson Award. His third anthology, Novus Monstrum, was co-edited with Douglas Gwilym. It is the first installment in the Midnight Zone series for Dragon’s Roost Press.

Ken is also a part-time literary assassin: he will write you into an original short story and kill you for money. Ken drives the bookmobile and lives with his kids, a fierce-but-cuddly tiger cat, and the ashes of his wife.

He can be found at www.kenmacgregor.com.

Giveaway
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Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Interview with Dark Fantasy Author Elexis Bell + giveaway

Describe your writing style.
Gritty, lyrical, character-driven, and punchy. My characters drive the plot, and I don’t waste time with unnecessary details. I use a lot of sentence fragments, a lot of dependent clauses and paragraph breaks, all in the name of flow. And I never shy away from the tough subjects my plots demand.

What is your writing process? For instance, do you do an outline first? Do you do the chapters first? What are common traps for aspiring writers?
I’m what’s known in writing communities as a pantser/discovery writer. Some people prefer discovery writer because it sounds more serious. I prefer pantser because it sounds more fun and writing is supposed to be fun. But regardless of what you call it, I write by the seat of my pants.
No outlines. No story bible. No character profiles.
I get an idea, and I start writing.

Beyond that, I do a lot of things that are commonly preached against in writing circles. Many people say not to edit as you go because it might trap you in a cycle of rewriting/fixing rather than writing the rest of the book. But I edit as I go, and it works for me.

A lot of people say to write every day, but I work 12 hour shifts at least two days a week. I don’t usually get to write on those days.

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
I just let the story be what it needs to be. There’s an audience out there for any book. It’s just a matter of finding them. Yes, writing this way rather than writing to market means that marketing will inevitably be more difficult, but the integrity of the characters and the story means more to me than saving myself a little difficulty in advertising.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?
I write somewhat quickly. Despite working full time and maintaining a semblance of a social life, I can usually finish a first draft in about four months. Some books take a little longer, depending on how much overtime I end up with during that time.

Allmother Rising took one day less than four months. The writing started out slow thanks to work, but then Covid happened, and the factory I work at got shut down for two months. So, I still got it done in four months.

However, my current project, The Regonia Chronicles, is an exception. It’s a series that I didn’t know would be a series until I was about 90,000 words in with no end in sight. (Most sci-fi/fantasy novels are between 70,000 and 120,000 words, for reference.) And then, when I started writing what I thought would be book two, I had to go back and add several chapters to book one, which changed the point at which book one ended. Then, book three meant more additions to book one.
So, for this project, I honestly have no idea how long each book is taking because they’re all under construction up until the completion of the whole series. Not to mention the fact that I’ve stopped to write unrelated books a few times, and since I’m making up a complete language for one of the races in the book, I occasionally have to stop writing to fill out their dictionary.

But usually, I can stick to an average of four months per first draft.


Allmother Rising
by Elexis Bell
May 25, 2021
279 pages
Genre: Dark Fantasy with Straight and LGBTQ Romance
A broken-hearted priestess and a deposed prince team up with a ranger and a rebel with one too many secrets. In the name of The Allmother, they go to war to save their lands.

A coup in a neighboring kingdom brings threats of invasion and fire to Priestess Rising Veliana’s home in the forest. Under the guidance of her goddess, The Allmother, she forms an alliance with the deposed prince, Tyrvahn, and his ex, Garle, the leader of a rebellion that’s been brewing for years.

But Garle has many secrets, one of which could unravel Veliana and Tyrvahn’s budding romance and the future of these uneasy alliances. Veliana’s best friend, Kivala, tries to soften Garle with the ways of their fallen homeland, but what she learns chills her to her core.

At war with a vicious man twisted by the god of greed, they can’t afford to fight amongst themselves. Can they overcome their differences to save their home and their goddess from the new king? Or will the forests burn over blood-soaked earth?

Fans of magic and grit, high stakes and godly secrets will love this dark high fantasy novel with straight and LGBT romance.

**Only .99 cents until June 1st!!**

EXCERPT
The Sailon Forest closes in around me, dark and foreboding in the night. A twig snaps behind me, and I know I haven’t escaped them. With my parents dead and my kingdom stolen, a moon spent on the run has flown by.

Yet my cousin’s men nip at my heels. I feel them getting closer each day.

I pick up my pace, refusing to give them an easy kill.

Sprinting through the undergrowth by the scant bits of moonlight that filter through the leaves, I remind myself who I am. Tyrvahn Mahrdur, Prince of the great nation, Jun. My last shot at an ally, at getting my kingdom back, vanished when the High Seal agreed to Paikon’s terms, but I won’t go down easy.

I try to think through how many of my assailants I’ve picked off, but it’s no easy task. Their numbers change, and I can’t be sure we haven’t passed by another of their camps.

Sweat beads on my forehead and drips down my scalp. Droplets of it trickle around the base of my antlers, matting my thick black hair down. I force myself to focus despite the exertion.

Listen.

I strain my ears, desperate to pick any order from the crashing footsteps behind me. Yet, the cacophony is not as terrible as I expected.

Two of them?

Maybe three?

I try harder to siphon out the sounds of my footsteps and the violent beating of my heart. I pick out the sounds of the river and change direction, heading straight for the rushing water. My legs pump harder as I push myself toward the water and the promise of moonlight.

Behind me, a long, high whistle sounds, and realization hits me. These are scouts. The rest of the party follows behind, waiting for a signal before closing in. The whistle sounds once more, and my blood runs cold.

They’re far too close.

I have to eliminate the scouts before the others catch up.

Maybe then I can slip away.

My heart stutters as I think of the other possible outcomes. Being overrun by a horde of assassins doesn’t exactly sound appealing.

The trees begin to thin, and saplings claw at my clothes, already far from the glory they once were. My shirt rips as a small branch catches my side, but I keep going.

Another sapling reaches out, whipping a thin branch against the black tip of my ear. My breath comes in great gusts, but warmth builds in my chest. The warmth of the Allmother’s approval.

I’ve only come to feel it recently. All it took was nearly dying, but I’ve seen her. And now, I feel her urging me along this path.

So, I run faster.

As I near the rushing river, fewer twigs crunch underfoot, and the sounds of my pursuers grow clearer.

Definitely no more than three.

I smile, liking my odds.

Allmother, grant me strength…

About the Author

Elexis Bell writes gritty and emotional novels. Born and raised in the midwestern United States, she dreams of a cabin in the woods rather than a house surrounded by cornfields.

She loves writing well-developed characters facing real problems in vibrant, magical worlds. Armed with a degree in psychology and a rollercoaster past, she sprinkles gut-wrenching emotions over high fantasy romance, science fiction, and the occasional thriller.

Giveaway
Win a Swag Pack with a signature card, magnet, sticker and three bookmarks!
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Friday, March 12, 2021

Interview: Urban Fantasy Author Nina Soden (The Beast Within) + giveaway

How do you find time to write as a parent?
I’m not going to lie; it isn’t easy especially when they are young. I’m lucky, my kids are a little older now and they tend to entertain themselves more so than when I first started writing. The harder part is finding time to write when I also work full time. I would love to say that writing is my full-time career, but that just isn’t the case. I write in the little nooks and crannies of my day. Five minutes here and ten minutes there… The school car-pool line is a great place to plan and outline.

What is something unique about you?
Probably my past, although I wouldn’t say it is unique really, more like interesting. I went to college for Theatre Arts and Military Science… not the most common duo. Then, I moved to Los Angeles to become an actress. I LOVED IT, but life decided to change my plans. We moved away from Los Angeles, started a family, and I started writing as a creative outlet. I never thought I’d love doing it as much as I do.

How has COVID affected your writing?
I thought COVID would make it easier to find time to write, but it hasn’t. Honestly, other than the last couple of weeks, I’ve been very stifled in my creative thinking. Everything in the world this last year has seemed so negative and it hasn’t made me eager to write.

As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal?
My mascot would probably be Stephen King, lol. I envision him saying something like, ‘the book isn’t going to write itself’ whenever I feel stuck. My avatar would be a talking cup of coffee. My spirit animal would be a cat, because they are up at all hours of the night and they seem to always have the energy to keep going.

The Beast Within
by Nina Soden
March 1, 2021
513 pages
Genre: Interactive Urban Fantasy
Austin discovered, at the young age of ten, that fairies aren’t exactly what the fairytales made them out to be and that blood tastes a lot like honey. Now, as an adult, he struggles to balance his public life with the one he’s so desperate to keep hidden. After a deadly camping trip and an unexpected connection, Austin tries to change his ways. Will he be able to keep his secret or will his world come undone? In this exciting interactive adventure, the body count is up to you. Are you ready?
**Only 99 cents!**

THE BEAST WITHIN EXCERPT:
CHAPTER ONE
A loud crack of thunder startled the driver as he quickly swerved into the hospital parking lot. His truck, an old, rusted late-1980s black Ford F150, pulled a thick fog of exhaust fumes behind it. The heavy rainfall made it impossible to see, yet he still hid behind his ballcap and dark black sunglasses, fearful of potential onlookers and traffic cameras.

It was just past 2:00 in the morning when he pulled up to the Emergency Room entrance. He stopped, considered what would happen if anyone saw him getting out of the truck, then quickly hit the gas and drove past the door. He parked behind the cover of a large blue dumpster that sat overflowing, ready for the early morning pickup.

He got out of the truck and quickly made his way to the passenger side door. As he pulled the door open, he deftly caught her falling body. She was limp—unconscious—and covered in blood.

“Not sure why you’re bringing her here, they can’t help her,” the memory of his father’s voice spoke in his head.

“Shut up,” he said, hissing the words over his shoulder to no one. “They can save her.”

“Then what? She knows who you are. What do you think will happen when she wakes up?” his father asked.

“She doesn’t know,” he snapped, hoping he was right.

After days of struggling with the decision of what to do with her, he decided he couldn’t kill her. Not like the others. He fed on her, that much he had been willing to do. That much he had to do, but he had gone too far—caused damage he wasn’t entirely sure could be fixed. “They can save her,” he said again, trying to convince himself or maybe just pushing back the growing feeling of guilt and regret. He had to believe they could fix her—make her whole again. He had made a mistake, a terrible mistake, but his father was right, she had known who he was and could have easily turned him in. Although he wasn’t prepared to risk his own life to save hers, he still wasn’t willing to kill her.

He didn’t want to let her die.

Not her.

Not without at least trying to save her first.

He did what he had to do. He wiped her memory clean just like he had learned to do. Yet he still took extra precautions; drug induced alterations to her prefrontal cortex. It’s amazing what you can learn online—the amount of invaluable information and resources is astounding.

He lifted her easily out of the truck and carried her comatose body around the back side of the dumpster. He laid her down on the cold cement slab, pulling her shirt down over the pale skin of her exposed stomach. A thin gold necklace dangled from her neck and he thought about taking it but decided against it—it was hers and he wanted her to keep it. He hid her there, surrounded by trash, knowing she wouldn’t be found until the early morning hours.

She was different from the others. He didn’t want her to die. He knew her. She knew him, or had known him. He loved her, as much as a monster could love a mortal. But she knew too much and he had to protect himself, even if it meant letting her go. It was the first rule he had learned; never get too close, always be willing to walk away, and when it comes down to you or them, always protect yourself.

A single leg, barefoot and bloody, he left purposefully exposed to the sidewalk that passed in front of the dumpster. He was sure someone would find her in the morning after the sun came up, but by then he would be long gone.

He turned away and headed back to his truck.

“You’re just going to leave her there in the rain? I thought you wanted to save her. She’ll freeze to death before they find her.”

“She’ll be fine,” he said. He looked back at her leg, already starting to turn blue, and wondered if he was wrong. “She’ll be fine,” he said again, then climbed in his truck and sped out of the parking lot and down the road.

CHAPTER TWO
By 7:00, the sun was already high in the sky. The parking lot was beginning to fill up with hospital employees and patients trying to beat the early morning rush. The woman’s body still lay motionless in its garbage-scented nest behind the dumpster, as people hurried past without so much as a glance in her direction.

“Mommy,” a young girl said, as she pulled on the sleeve of her mother’s jacket. “Mommy, why is that woman sleeping in the trash?” she asked, curious. She couldn’t have been older than ten-years old. She had curly blonde shoulder-length hair that bounced as she walked.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” her mother said, rushing toward the door, not bothering to look back.

“Mommy?”

“She’s probably homeless, sweetheart,” her mother quickly said, knowing that if she didn’t give her daughter an answer, she would begin the morning with a game of fifty questions. “Now come on, we have to hurry. We’re already running late.” She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a flowing white blouse. Her golden blonde hair, curly like her daughter’s, was pulled into a loose bun at the back of her head and her heels clicked against the concrete like tiny explosions. She didn’t give her daughter’s question a second thought—at least, not until her daughter’s small hand slipped away.

The little girl, named Stella, let go of her mother’s sleeve and turned back to stare at the woman’s foot lying delicately on the pavement. Her bright blue eyes turned gray as she stared down at the woman’s body. She took a single step forward. “Are you okay?” she asked, but before she could reach down to tap her leg and wake the sleeping woman from her slumber, she heard her mother screaming just behind her.

“Oh my God, don’t touch her, Stella” the mother said, startled by the bruises and blood covering the pale woman. She grabbed her daughter by the arm and quickly pulled her down the walkway toward the door.

“Mommy, wait,” the little girl called as she struggled to free herself from her mother’s grasp. “We have to help her.”

“We will, we will,” her mother said, trying to console her daughter, as she scooped the little girl into her arms and burst into the warmth of the Emergency Room waiting area. “There’s a woman,” she said, trying not to panic. “Behind the dumpster….” She had begun to hyperventilate and a nurse, carrying a clipboard and a brown paper lunch bag, quickly came to assist her.

“Just breathe,” the nurse said, leading her to a seat close to the door. They sat down and the nurse, wearing scrubs that were a size to small knelt down in front of the woman and her daughter. The little girl came face to face with her exposed cleavage and started giggling. Oblivious, the nurse handed the woman the small paper bag. “Put this over your mouth and take slow deep breaths. My name is Mia. Do you think you can tell me your name?”

Stella’s mother slapped the bag to the floor, pointed to the door, and pushed the nurse away. “I’m not the one who needs your help. She’s out there. You have to go help her.” The guard sitting at the door quickly stood up, ready to assist nurse Mia if the woman became more violent. There were tears streaming down her face as her daughter watched in silence, not sure why her mother was so upset about the sleeping woman. Thankfully, she was still too young to understand. She hadn’t seen or heard the terrifying news reports of murders happening all across town over the past several months. As a child, she lived in blissful ignorance, a state in which her mother hoped to keep her.

“Help who?” Mia asked, looking back toward the door.

Just then, Stella saw a man run through the door with the same fearful look on his face. He was shouting, “I need a doctor. Please, there’s a woman lying on the ground behind the dumpster. She’s…hurt…I think she’s hurt,” he said, silently praying she wasn’t actually dead, not sure how else to describe what he had just seen.

Mia jumped up from where she had been helping Stella’s mother. “Use this, try to breathe normally,” she said, as she handed the woman the brown paper bag for the second time. This time, she took it. Then Mia quickly followed the man back out the door. “Page Doctor Bennett!” she shouted at the guard. As the door closed behind her, the little girl heard her call out to the man, “Show me.” Seconds later, two doctors pushing a gurney ran through the doors leading outside, and headed in the direction of the dumpster.

It wasn’t long before the little girl watched them all run back in. The younger of the two doctors was pushing the gurney. He held a large balloon-like contraption over the sleeping woman’s face as he pumped air into her lungs. Nurse Mia had her hands firmly over the woman’s throat as if holding something in, the little girl thought to herself, wondering what it could have been.

The laceration across the woman’s throat had clotted and the bleeding had stopped at some point during the night. However, when the doctors jostled her body, lifting her onto the gurney, they accidentally reopened the wound. Fresh blood flowed freely down her neck and soaked into the blanket they had laid across her body.

Doctor Bennett, the older of the two doctors, was a tall African-American man with short dark hair that was graying at his temples. He held onto the side of the gurney, guiding it through the door as he swiftly and thoroughly examined the unconscious woman. He lifted each of her arms first, one at a time, and then moved to her legs. He worked calmly among the chaos happening around him.

“Move out of the way!” the guard shouted at the looky-loos who had already begun gathering in the hospital lobby, as they ran in. He quickly rushed across the waiting room and pressed his badge against the panel on the wall next to the large set of double doors. The lock clicked as it released and the doors began to slowly open, unveiling the exam rooms hidden behind them and granting the doctors access. Stella watched with a child’s curiosity as the doors seemed to crawl open at an unusually slow pace. She wondered if maybe time had actually slowed down.

“Where will they take her, Mommy?” she asked, turning back to the woman on the gurney.

“Don’t look, baby,” the little girl’s mother answered, as they pushed the sleeping woman quickly past them. The little girl noticed the blood for the first time. An arm hung off the side of the gurney and blood dripped steadily to the floor at their feet.

“She’s bleeding, Mommy.”

“Don’t look baby. Don’t look.”

“But Mommy, what do you think happened to her?” the little girl asked, ever inquisitive. “Why is she bleeding? Was she in an accident, Mommy?”

Her mother just shook her head “I don’t know, Stella,” she said more firmly this time. Then she grabbed her daughter and pulled her into her lap.

Stella struggled free of her mother when she noticed a thin silver bracelet with a tiny heart charm sitting in a pool of blood on the floor. “Mommy,” she said, reaching for the bracelet, “that woman, she dropped this.”

As soon as she grabbed the bloody bracelet, her body went rigid, her eyes glossed over, and she fell silent.

“Stella? Stella, baby, what’s wrong?” her mother asked, pulling her back into her lap and holding her tight. “Baby what is that? Don’t touch that.” She grabbed the bloody bracelet out of her daughter’s hand and dropped it to the floor. Stella’s body went limp in her arms and her mother started to cry.

The doctors, Nurse Mia, and the sleeping woman all disappeared behind the large doors as Doctor Bennett barked orders. “We need to stop the bleeding from her throat and hook up two IVs. Pump fluids, start oxygen, get a full panel screening, insert a urinary catheter and prep her for a CT scan.”

“Yes doctor,” Mia answered.

“We need to clean up her wrist and get it stitched up and splinted right away. Do an EEG and order a lumbar puncture,” he continued. “And get a plastics’ consult down here right away. The lacerations on her throat are our first priority once the bleeding is under control and her vitals are stable.”

“Who would you like assigned to the case?” she asked.

Doctor Bennett only had to glance down at the poor girl’s mutilated throat for a second before answering. “Hill. Get Hill.”

“You want me to call in Dean Hill?” Mia asked, hesitantly.

Bennett turned, eyes narrowing as he watched Mia’s reaction. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t call Hill in?”

Doctor Hill was young. He liked to drink, a lot, but he was painstakingly meticulous when he worked. If anyone would be able to repair the damage that had been done to their patient, it was him, and Mia knew it. Although the woman’s wound was so savage, she wasn’t sure even Dr. Hill was that good.

“No, no reason,” she answered. The last time she had seen Dr. Hill, he was passed out drunk at the bar down the road. Mia smiled and nodded to Doctor Bennett. “I’ll go find his number,” she said, then left the room and headed to the nurses’ station.

About the Author

Nina has always been creative, be it art, theatre, film – anything but singing – you don’t want to hear that! She earned her bachelor’s degree in Theatre and Military Science from Eastern Michigan University where she spent most of her time either on stage, rappelling down buildings, or working one of three jobs. After college she moved to Los Angeles, like so many other actors, in pursuit of her dreams. Nina started writing short stories in 2008. Since then, her dreams have gotten bigger and she likes to think her storytelling ability has gotten better. She has done everything from secretarial work to business development to being the Director of a private preschool. She has fired a M16 machine gun, jumped out of a C130 aircraft, and given birth – TWICE - but she always returns to her art.

She has two completed series available; The Blood Angel Series (Awaken, Beginnings, Revenge, and Pursuit) and the SECTOR C Series (The Chosen, The Hunted, and The Bridge). Her latest novel, an interactive urban fantasy novel, The Beast Within, is a standalone story with eleven (11) possible endings and twenty-six (26) opportunities for the reader to try and change the story. The Beast Within is currently available for pre-order on Amazon and will be available for purchase on March 1, 2021.

Though she’ll forever be a Michigan girl at heart, she now lives in the south with her husband and two beautiful children. If she’s not working on her latest story, you can find her lounging with a good book, playing with her kids, or indulging in her unhealthy addiction to Starbucks coffee.

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Tuesday, April 16, 2019

$.99 sale: The Archangel Wars Series (Books 1 - 4) by Jonathan Yanez + excerpt

The Archangel Wars Series (Books 1 - 4)
by Jonathan Yanez
August 12, 2017
908 pages
Genre: Supernatural/Urban Fantasy
Cover Designer: Covers by Christian
Publisher: Archimedes Books
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Can a nobody become a hero?

They’re not your typical angels.

He’s not your typical hero...

Bullied, alone, and broken, Alan was ready to give up on life. Turns out, they had another plan for him.

A battle wages in the supernatural realm. Alan is soon recruited to join the angels. But he’ll discover there’s more to his new powers than even the Archangels expected.

Caught up in a world of ancient gods, death angels, demons, the four horsemen, and the three-headed dog, Cerberus, Alan must choose a side. Because whether he’s ready or not, he’s the center of everything.

Get lost in a new kind of supernatural adventure today where Archangels, Greek mythology, and legends meet apolcalyptic monsters. And where an unexpected champion overcomes personal obstacles and seeks forgiveness.

If you enjoy Linsey Hall, Judith Berens, Michelle Madow, Orlando Sanchez, or Shayne Silvers, you’ll get a kick out of The Archangel Wars.



Excerpt:
“My organization has been watching you since the night you jumped—fell—off the roof, and even before that. What we want is your help. What I mean to say is, we think a partnership would be mutually beneficial.”

Alan searched the dimly lit interior of the bar, for what, he wasn’t sure—cameras revealing he was being set up, dark-suited government agents poised to take him away for experimentation, or the FBI for all the money and merchandise he’d stolen over the past four years.

He scooted a bit closer to the edge of his booth, ready to run at a moment’s notice. As a general rule, he didn’t use his speed in public. Tonight could be an exception.

“Please, don’t do your super-speed thing,” Danielle said. “You’re not alone in this. I know you must have so many questions, and I can give you the answers you’ve been searching for. The world needs you, Alan.”

Alan’s chest constricted. For the very first time, fear of the real possibility of having his questions answered spread through him. For years, Alan had searched for an explanation to what he was, and every lead ended the same, with only more questions.

The server appeared, balancing a glass on a tray. Danielle turned her attention away from him and visibly brightened. “Oh, my Shirley Temple. There’s a cherry in it, too. Yesssss.”


About the Author:
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More animal than man, he bleeds caffeine and... Ah, I'm just kidding. It sounded cool though right?

I'm Jonathan, a former personal trainer turned full-time author and part-time model.

I could go on and on about how many books I've written and awards I've won and blah, blah, blah but I'd rather use this time for you to get to know the real me.

I write because that's what I was born to do and I freaking love doing it. Because of awesome people like you, I get to do it full time.

Connecting with fellow lovers of the written word is important to me so please join the Pack via my website at www.jonathan-yanez.com where you can grab an exclusive story or hang out with us in our reader FB group.




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Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Release Day: East of Ecstasy by Laura Kaye + Giveaway


You guys! I can’t believe release day for East of Ecstasy is finally here! This is the final book in my Hearts of the Anemoi series, which includes: North of Need, West of Want, and South of Surrender. 

The Anemoi were wind gods the Greek associated with controlling the wind, weather, and seasons. In East of Ecstasy, hero Devlin Eston is the heir to the East Wind which has long been associated with unluckiness, misfortune, and, thanks to Devlin’s father, even evil. Devlin himself has been the victim of father’s evil, and thereby finds himself an outcast among his own divine family. In this scene, heroine Annalise Fallston—who gets visions that she’s forced to paint in order to quiet them in her mind—sees Devlin for the first time. Here’s what she says:

Forcing the chaos in her mind away, Anna dipped her brush into the gray and stepped to the canvas. Motion captured her attention from the corner of her eye.

The Dark Man, the subject of her recent paintings, stood in the doorway and leaned against the jamb.

Anna jumped and her pulse raced, but this time, anger flooded in instead of fear. “I will deal with you on my own damn terms,” she said, taking a perverse amount of pleasure from putting a figment of her imagination in its place. Because that’s all he was.

He didn’t move or speak. Not that he could, since, you know. Figment. Of. Imagination.

Anna rolled her eyes, done with being scared and so pissed to have to do this again that she was nearly out of her mind. “I’m doing your damn painting already. So just leave me alone.” She cut her gaze back to the expanse of white, but the desire to see if his image would still be there if she looked again drove her to distraction.

Finally, she gave in and…he was still there.

Completely still. Blatantly scowling. Totally unfathomable.

Was this a vision? Another image she’d have to paint?

Her heart tripped into a sprint, and she couldn’t look away from him. Like the compulsion that forced her to paint these images, Anna couldn’t help but return his stare and memorize his masculine features. The sharp angles of his face, the harsh set of his mouth, the dark shadows around his even darker eyes. Black eyes. Blades of black hair hung low over his forehead and just touched the hooded shirt he wore under his short, scuffed leather jacket. He’d crossed his arms over his chest, and the position caused his biceps to bunch up under the worn leather. In fact, everything about him appeared worn—the coat, the threadbare jeans, the scuffed boots. None of it struck her as the kind of shabby chic you could buy in some upscale store for a small fortune, either. The whole effect was rough. Dangerous. Deprived.

Deprived? What a strange way of describing him. But as Anna’s gaze swept over him again, the thought stuck. For his height, he seemed thin, with his lean hips, clad in old black jeans, a trim waist, and pronounced cheekbones. Her fingers twitched around the nearly forgotten paintbrush. What would it feel like to cup that harsh face in her hand?

Anna gasped and tore her gaze away. She had to blink to pull herself out of the haze of thoughts. Frustration surged through her and tensed the muscles of her shoulders and neck. She didn’t want to be working on another of these paintings as it was, so the last thing she needed was to lose a bunch of time daydreaming. Or would it be daynightmaring?

As she stared at the blank canvas, the image of the shackled man behind the prison bars filled her mind’s eye.

Definitely the latter.

Curiosity pulled her eyes to the left again. The doorway was empty.

So, did you have a favorite line from the excerpt? Thanks for reading!
Laura

East of Ecstasy (Hearts of the Anemoi #4)
By Laura Kaye
The final chapter in the award-winning and bestselling Hearts of the Anemoi series…

She’s the only one who can give him the strength to save them all…

Annalise Fallston made peace with postponing her big-city dreams to care for her ill father, but lately she's been filled with a restlessness not even her beloved painting dispels. Worse, the colors don't speak to her as they always have, and all her efforts produce dark, foreboding images of a dangerous man and a terrifying future.

Devlin Eston, black-souled son of the evil Anemoi Eurus, is the only one who can thwart his father's plan to overthrow the Supreme God of Wind and Storms. But first, Dev must master the unstable powers he's been given. Distrusted and shunned by his own divine family, he never expected to find kindness and passion in the arms of a mortal.

But Devlin's love puts Annalise in the path of a catastrophic storm, and in the final Armageddon showdown between the Anemoi and Eurus, sacrifices will be made, hearts broken, and lives changed forever...or lost. 

For a limited time only $.99
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For a limited time only $.99

Catch up on the whole series with the Hearts of the Anemoi box set featuring the first three books: North of Need, West of Want, South of Surrender!
Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes

About the Author:
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Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over a dozen books in contemporary and paranormal romance. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.