Voodoo Child’s Cover Girl
These libraries feature many talented photographers and with diligence you can find some amazing photos. When I was researching the cover for Voodoo Child, Book One: Zombie Uprising I struck gold; finding a series of images featuring a model that perfectly personified my lead character- Army Chopper pilot and zombie ass kicker extraordinaire Maggie Child.
After licensing these photos I became curious about the model. So I contacted DMITRIY SANDATSKY, the Ukraine based photographer via email and he was kind enough to respond. Dmitriy is a talented photographer with a wealth of eye-catching images in his portfolio. I recommend checking out his online catalog for your cover needs, or just for a little visual inspiration.
Dmitriy gave me a little background on the actual photo shoot. “We shot these photos about a year ago. My wife Anastasia did the make-up and special effects. We wanted to capture a strong, independent warrior woman.”
I want to note that Anastasia is a very sought after and talented makeup artist who despite her sweet smile really has a knack for blood and gore.
Dmitriy also put me in touch with IRENE POLIKOVSKAYA, my cover model. I was thrilled to discover that she’s a popular television personality in Ukraine and a talented dancer. Hey, my book cover has star power! Irene was nice enough to take a break from her schedule and answer a few questions.
Can you tell us a little about your television show?
I’ve been doing the show for two years. It’s about handcraft items, creating interesting things from nothing. Often times we use things from around the house that would ordinarily be thrown away and make something beautiful.
You’ve also had a successful dance career. Can you tell readers about that?
I’ve been dancing since I was four. As a child I watched Bollywood movies and tried to dance like them. My mother saw what I was doing and let me go to dance school. My original training was in ballet but later I began to dance in other styles. Eventually I fell in love with West Coast Swing Dancing. A month ago I traveled to the United States and won first place at four different competitions.
You're on the cover of a horror novel. Can I ask if you're a fan of zombie movies or television shows like The Walking Dead?
Well I also have a degree in acting and love films but all my life I’ve been afraid to watch horrors movies. My friends love to go to the cinema with me because I scream like a little girl and they always laugh at me.
Thanks so much Irene.
Using a pumpkin Irene Polikovskaya demonstrates how to remove a zombie’s brain with a kitchen knife. Actually she’s showing how to make a Halloween Jack O Lantern as part of her popular Ukraine television show.
I want to note that Anastasia is a very sought after and talented makeup artist who despite her sweet smile really has a knack for blood and gore.
Dmitriy also put me in touch with IRENE POLIKOVSKAYA, my cover model. I was thrilled to discover that she’s a popular television personality in Ukraine and a talented dancer. Hey, my book cover has star power! Irene was nice enough to take a break from her schedule and answer a few questions.
Can you tell us a little about your television show?
I’ve been doing the show for two years. It’s about handcraft items, creating interesting things from nothing. Often times we use things from around the house that would ordinarily be thrown away and make something beautiful.
You’ve also had a successful dance career. Can you tell readers about that?
I’ve been dancing since I was four. As a child I watched Bollywood movies and tried to dance like them. My mother saw what I was doing and let me go to dance school. My original training was in ballet but later I began to dance in other styles. Eventually I fell in love with West Coast Swing Dancing. A month ago I traveled to the United States and won first place at four different competitions.
You're on the cover of a horror novel. Can I ask if you're a fan of zombie movies or television shows like The Walking Dead?
Well I also have a degree in acting and love films but all my life I’ve been afraid to watch horrors movies. My friends love to go to the cinema with me because I scream like a little girl and they always laugh at me.
Thanks so much Irene.
Using a pumpkin Irene Polikovskaya demonstrates how to remove a zombie’s brain with a kitchen knife. Actually she’s showing how to make a Halloween Jack O Lantern as part of her popular Ukraine television show.
I want to thank Dmitriy, Anastasia and Irene for taking the time to talk to me. I also want to thank Deranged Doctor Designs, who did a splendid job designing the cover graphics. I’m a very lucky guy to have all these creative people come together for my book.
by William Burke
Genre: Horror/paranormal with Action/adventure
Publisher: William Burke
June 17th 2016
ASIN: B01H9E4HDA
Number of pages: 333
Word Count: 96,000
Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor
The forces of darkness are out to destroy mankind… Too bad they never reckoned on facing Maggie Child!
Army chopper pilot Maggie Child has a reputation for being fearless, professional and, above all, rational. But when she's shot down over Iraq her well-ordered life spirals into a paranormal nightmare. Alone, wounded and surrounded by hostile forces, Maggie is rescued from certain death by a demon straight out of Dante's Inferno. Then, barely alive, she's abducted by a private military corporation conducting insidious medical experiments. Her escape from their covert hellhole lands her on a Caribbean island where an evil voodoo spirit and a psychotic female dictator are conspiring to unleash an apocalyptic zombie plague. Then she uncovers the most terrifying secret of all—her own destiny. It seems a Voodoo oracle has ordained her the only warrior capable of saving humanity from a supernatural Armageddon … whether she wants the job or not!
But saving the world isn't a one-woman job, so she teams up with a trio of unlikely heroes—a conspiracy obsessed marijuana smuggler, a Voodoo priestess with an appetite for reality television, and a burnt out ex-mercenary. Together, they'll take on an army of the walking dead, with the fate of humanity resting in their eccentric hands.
Voodoo Child, Book One: Zombie Uprising is the first novel in a new horror series packed with supernatural thrills, rousing adventure, dark humor, Voodoo lore and plenty of zombie stomping action. But a word of warning; don't shoot these zombies in the head … because that just makes them mad!
It's the legions of hell versus Maggie Child … and hell doesn't have a prayer!
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/yPfVbgm-1XY
CHAPTER ONE
Isle De Fantomas was a nation born in blood and forged in suffering. Its citizens were the descendents of slaves who, after generations in bondage, had broken their chains. These slaves, who had never known mercy, showed none to their masters. On the first night of the rebellion their scythes and cane machetes slaughtered half the slave-owning colonists; the remaining half were less fortunate.
For a brief moment the long-suffering people of Fantomas were free; but from that newfound freedom sprang even more brutal masters. For two centuries Fantomas endured an endless cycle of homegrown tyrants lusting for power. The latest of these despots, General Manuel Ortiz, followed the violent traditions of his predecessors, filling the island's cemeteries with innocent victims.
Though countless lives were lost, the human spirit endured, fueled by the people's unwavering faith in Voodoo. The citizens of Fantomas clung to their beliefs, knowing that someday the Voodoo spirits would crush their oppressors and set their children free.
Despite two centuries of bloodshed, the jungles of Fantomas remained lush and primordial; unchanged since the dawn of time. But tonight the sleeping parrots were awakened by brush rustling beneath their roosts, and they sang out a warning; men had invaded their domain.
Six armed soldiers crept through the jungle. Swarms of fruit bats circled overhead, following their path, gorging on the insects they disturbed. A bat swooped down to snatch a dragonfly hovering in front of the last man. As he slapped frantically at the invader, the startled soldier's foot landed on a dry branch; the cracking wood echoed through the jungle like a gunshot.
Their leader, Lieutenant Miguel Ortiz, spun around and glared at the man. "Quiet, you idiot!"
The soldier stood frozen under the lieutenant's stare until Ortiz turned and continued moving forward. The men followed him cautiously, fearing their commander more than any enemy.
Lieutenant Ortiz hated the jungle. To him it was a steaming, mosquito-laden nightmare of tangled brush and poisonous snakes. But despite the discomforts, Miguel loved his job as commander of the island's Special Operations Team, an elite military unit the locals referred to in hushed tones as Escuadrón de la Muerte—The Death Squad.
Fantomas' supreme dictator, General Manuel Ortiz, had handpicked each man, entrusting them with eliminating anyone who opposed his regime. Miguel was chosen as commander in part because the general was his uncle, but it was a job he was truly born to hold. After a childhood measured in escalating acts of sadism, Miguel seemed destined for the hangman's noose. But all that changed a year ago when his uncle assumed power after a bloody military coups d'état. With Manuel recognizing his nephew's rare talent for brutality, Miguel instantly rose from being just another violent felon to a vital arm of national security.
Since then he'd hunted and killed dozens of potentially dangerous opponents to his uncle's regime. The fact that most were unarmed peasants or intellectuals only added to Miguel's job satisfaction.
His trained ear was attuned to the endless din of insects when he distinctly heard coughing in the distance. He gestured for his men to halt. Slipping on a pair of night vision goggles he studied the trail ahead but saw no one. He heard it again, like a man sneezing, quickly followed by another. Following the sound he looked up into the trees. A troop of Mona Monkeys stared down at him, their tufts of white facial hair giving them the appearance of angry old men. The sneezing sound was their warning call to other monkeys. Miguel fought the impulse to shoot them for fun. Instead he knelt down, allowing his men a moment to drink from their canteens.
His second in command, Corporal Sosa, crept forward. In hushed tones he said, "Sir, the men are nervous. We're killing a Voodoo priestess tonight and they're afraid of the spiritual consequences."
Miguel resisted the urge to strangle Sosa. "Trust me, if there's such a thing as spiritual consequences we're already going to Hell, so stop worrying." He glanced back at his men, sensing their tension. He hoped when the time came their natural bloodlust would overcome any fear, but he knew a little added incentive wouldn't hurt. "Remind them we are on a personal mission for General Ortiz, and he will probably give us each a generous bonus."
Corporal Sosa's innate greed won over any concerns. "They will be happy to hear that," he said and scuttled back to the men.
The men's fear of the priestess disgusted Miguel. To him Voodoo was the kind of superstitious horseshit that personified the old Fantomas; an impoverished land full of ignorant peasants and stinking manure. Miguel proudly embraced the modern world of social progress. To him progress meant snorting cocaine off the dashboard of his pearl white Escalade while listening to deafening rap music. Miguel was looking forward to tonight's mission. The target's name was Sarafina, and her lofty title of Voodoo Priestess made this a rare pleasure. Miguel had spent the last year working night and day to crush the people's will. But women like this Sarafina gave the locals hope, and that only made his job harder.
Miguel pulled a GPS unit from his pocket. It indicated that they were less than a hundred yards from their target. He stood, signaling his men to move forward.
As they drew closer to the target, Miguel heard drums and rhythmic chanting drifting through the trees.
"Do you hear that?" Corporal Sosa hissed.
"Of course, I'm not deaf," Miguel shot back.
"She was supposed to be alone but what if there are there are more people? What if they're armed?" Sosa whispered, nervous at the prospect of facing someone who could actually fight back.
"Armed with what, drumsticks? If there are more people we'll just kill them too." Miguel turned away, wondering if America's Navy Seals had to deal with this kind of whimpering. Then again, Navy Seals didn't recruit their men from Death Row.
Miguel crept forward till he could make out a clearing ahead. The drumming was now clear and distinct.
He reached out and slowly pulled aside the branches blocking his view. The moment he did the drums and voices fell silent, leaving only the endlessly buzzing insects; it was unnerving. Probably just more monkeys, he thought.
He looked ahead and his concerns melted away. The priestess stood alone in the center of her compound, surrounded by gnarled posts decorated with animal skulls and weird talismans. Burning torches cast a flickering light on the ghoulish tableau. These Voodoo trappings were eerie enough, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the chapel building itself.
It was a barn-sized structure crafted from wood and mud brick standing in the shadow of a sixty-foot Banyan tree. Over decades, or perhaps even centuries, the ancient tree had grown into the building, entwining it in hundreds of exposed roots and vines until they merged into one organic structure. The firelight cast moving shadows across the chapel, and its network of roots seemed to undulate like some monstrous jellyfish.
Sarafina was stirring a cooking pot suspended over an outdoor fire. The aroma drifted through the air, but it was hard to tell if she was preparing some occult potion or just the typical swill the peasants called food. She sang to herself softly in a French patois.
Miguel took a moment to admire Sarafina. She was tall, her lean body wrapped in the colorful fabric favored by priestesses. She moved with the grace of a dancer, her dark skin glowing in the firelight. Miguel found her attractive, in that peasant sort of way.
She stood and walked gracefully to her chapel, still singing. As soon as she was inside, Miguel reached into his rucksack and pulled out a satellite phone. He whispered, "General, we're in position with the target in sight. Awaiting your orders." He pressed the phone to his ear awaiting a response.
His uncle's voice came through. "Hold your position and await my instructions."
"Understood sir." After checking the ground for scorpions, Miguel sat down to wait.
Isle De Fantomas was a nation born in blood and forged in suffering. Its citizens were the descendents of slaves who, after generations in bondage, had broken their chains. These slaves, who had never known mercy, showed none to their masters. On the first night of the rebellion their scythes and cane machetes slaughtered half the slave-owning colonists; the remaining half were less fortunate.
For a brief moment the long-suffering people of Fantomas were free; but from that newfound freedom sprang even more brutal masters. For two centuries Fantomas endured an endless cycle of homegrown tyrants lusting for power. The latest of these despots, General Manuel Ortiz, followed the violent traditions of his predecessors, filling the island's cemeteries with innocent victims.
Though countless lives were lost, the human spirit endured, fueled by the people's unwavering faith in Voodoo. The citizens of Fantomas clung to their beliefs, knowing that someday the Voodoo spirits would crush their oppressors and set their children free.
Despite two centuries of bloodshed, the jungles of Fantomas remained lush and primordial; unchanged since the dawn of time. But tonight the sleeping parrots were awakened by brush rustling beneath their roosts, and they sang out a warning; men had invaded their domain.
Six armed soldiers crept through the jungle. Swarms of fruit bats circled overhead, following their path, gorging on the insects they disturbed. A bat swooped down to snatch a dragonfly hovering in front of the last man. As he slapped frantically at the invader, the startled soldier's foot landed on a dry branch; the cracking wood echoed through the jungle like a gunshot.
Their leader, Lieutenant Miguel Ortiz, spun around and glared at the man. "Quiet, you idiot!"
The soldier stood frozen under the lieutenant's stare until Ortiz turned and continued moving forward. The men followed him cautiously, fearing their commander more than any enemy.
Lieutenant Ortiz hated the jungle. To him it was a steaming, mosquito-laden nightmare of tangled brush and poisonous snakes. But despite the discomforts, Miguel loved his job as commander of the island's Special Operations Team, an elite military unit the locals referred to in hushed tones as Escuadrón de la Muerte—The Death Squad.
Fantomas' supreme dictator, General Manuel Ortiz, had handpicked each man, entrusting them with eliminating anyone who opposed his regime. Miguel was chosen as commander in part because the general was his uncle, but it was a job he was truly born to hold. After a childhood measured in escalating acts of sadism, Miguel seemed destined for the hangman's noose. But all that changed a year ago when his uncle assumed power after a bloody military coups d'état. With Manuel recognizing his nephew's rare talent for brutality, Miguel instantly rose from being just another violent felon to a vital arm of national security.
Since then he'd hunted and killed dozens of potentially dangerous opponents to his uncle's regime. The fact that most were unarmed peasants or intellectuals only added to Miguel's job satisfaction.
His trained ear was attuned to the endless din of insects when he distinctly heard coughing in the distance. He gestured for his men to halt. Slipping on a pair of night vision goggles he studied the trail ahead but saw no one. He heard it again, like a man sneezing, quickly followed by another. Following the sound he looked up into the trees. A troop of Mona Monkeys stared down at him, their tufts of white facial hair giving them the appearance of angry old men. The sneezing sound was their warning call to other monkeys. Miguel fought the impulse to shoot them for fun. Instead he knelt down, allowing his men a moment to drink from their canteens.
His second in command, Corporal Sosa, crept forward. In hushed tones he said, "Sir, the men are nervous. We're killing a Voodoo priestess tonight and they're afraid of the spiritual consequences."
Miguel resisted the urge to strangle Sosa. "Trust me, if there's such a thing as spiritual consequences we're already going to Hell, so stop worrying." He glanced back at his men, sensing their tension. He hoped when the time came their natural bloodlust would overcome any fear, but he knew a little added incentive wouldn't hurt. "Remind them we are on a personal mission for General Ortiz, and he will probably give us each a generous bonus."
Corporal Sosa's innate greed won over any concerns. "They will be happy to hear that," he said and scuttled back to the men.
The men's fear of the priestess disgusted Miguel. To him Voodoo was the kind of superstitious horseshit that personified the old Fantomas; an impoverished land full of ignorant peasants and stinking manure. Miguel proudly embraced the modern world of social progress. To him progress meant snorting cocaine off the dashboard of his pearl white Escalade while listening to deafening rap music. Miguel was looking forward to tonight's mission. The target's name was Sarafina, and her lofty title of Voodoo Priestess made this a rare pleasure. Miguel had spent the last year working night and day to crush the people's will. But women like this Sarafina gave the locals hope, and that only made his job harder.
Miguel pulled a GPS unit from his pocket. It indicated that they were less than a hundred yards from their target. He stood, signaling his men to move forward.
As they drew closer to the target, Miguel heard drums and rhythmic chanting drifting through the trees.
"Do you hear that?" Corporal Sosa hissed.
"Of course, I'm not deaf," Miguel shot back.
"She was supposed to be alone but what if there are there are more people? What if they're armed?" Sosa whispered, nervous at the prospect of facing someone who could actually fight back.
"Armed with what, drumsticks? If there are more people we'll just kill them too." Miguel turned away, wondering if America's Navy Seals had to deal with this kind of whimpering. Then again, Navy Seals didn't recruit their men from Death Row.
Miguel crept forward till he could make out a clearing ahead. The drumming was now clear and distinct.
He reached out and slowly pulled aside the branches blocking his view. The moment he did the drums and voices fell silent, leaving only the endlessly buzzing insects; it was unnerving. Probably just more monkeys, he thought.
He looked ahead and his concerns melted away. The priestess stood alone in the center of her compound, surrounded by gnarled posts decorated with animal skulls and weird talismans. Burning torches cast a flickering light on the ghoulish tableau. These Voodoo trappings were eerie enough, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the chapel building itself.
It was a barn-sized structure crafted from wood and mud brick standing in the shadow of a sixty-foot Banyan tree. Over decades, or perhaps even centuries, the ancient tree had grown into the building, entwining it in hundreds of exposed roots and vines until they merged into one organic structure. The firelight cast moving shadows across the chapel, and its network of roots seemed to undulate like some monstrous jellyfish.
Sarafina was stirring a cooking pot suspended over an outdoor fire. The aroma drifted through the air, but it was hard to tell if she was preparing some occult potion or just the typical swill the peasants called food. She sang to herself softly in a French patois.
Miguel took a moment to admire Sarafina. She was tall, her lean body wrapped in the colorful fabric favored by priestesses. She moved with the grace of a dancer, her dark skin glowing in the firelight. Miguel found her attractive, in that peasant sort of way.
She stood and walked gracefully to her chapel, still singing. As soon as she was inside, Miguel reached into his rucksack and pulled out a satellite phone. He whispered, "General, we're in position with the target in sight. Awaiting your orders." He pressed the phone to his ear awaiting a response.
His uncle's voice came through. "Hold your position and await my instructions."
"Understood sir." After checking the ground for scorpions, Miguel sat down to wait.
About the Author:
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After two years of ghostwriting, William Burke has released his first novel VOODOO CHILD, Book One: Zombie Uprising. It's the first installment of a new horror series chronicling the exploits of Maggie Child and her Voodoo priestess partner Sarafina as they battle to save the island of Fantomas from the wrath of evil Voodoo spirits.
The author was raised on a diet of late night creature features, comic books, Mad magazines and horror stories. As a result every volume will be packed with eccentric characters, dark humor, chills, zombies, ghosts, monsters, military hardware and plenty of stuff blowing up.
Prior to writing Voodoo Child he was the creator and director of the Destination America television series Hauntings and Horrors. He has also written scripts for two Cinemax television series, Forbidden Science and Lingerie, which he also produced. He has also written magazine pieces for Fangoria and the Phantom of the Movies Videoscope among others.
William began his film and television career as a perfectly respectable video engineer at the venerable United Nations. Budget cuts shifted him to becoming a production manager and assistant director on an array of New York based indie films. With that experience under his belt he relocated to Los Angeles where he eventually produced sixteen feature films and two television series for the Playboy Entertainment Group. After years of producing T&A extravaganzas, kickboxing epics and gangster rap videos, he created a self financed television pilot entitled American Mystery Tour. Canada's CTV picked up the series under the title Creepy Canada, which was then re-titled Hauntings and Horrors in the USA. Since then he has successfully produced three series for HBO/Cinemax as well as documentaries and other … stuff.
After hundreds of hours of film and television production he is basking in the freedom of the written word, where small budgets and giant egos are only memories. He lives in Toronto.
If you enjoyed the first adventure please visit www.williamburkeauthor.com where you'll find lots of interesting information about Voodoo and military hardware, along with excerpts from Sarafina's personal diary AND, as a gift to readers, the author will be serializing a prequel novella
After two years of ghostwriting, William Burke has released his first novel VOODOO CHILD, Book One: Zombie Uprising. It's the first installment of a new horror series chronicling the exploits of Maggie Child and her Voodoo priestess partner Sarafina as they battle to save the island of Fantomas from the wrath of evil Voodoo spirits.
The author was raised on a diet of late night creature features, comic books, Mad magazines and horror stories. As a result every volume will be packed with eccentric characters, dark humor, chills, zombies, ghosts, monsters, military hardware and plenty of stuff blowing up.
Prior to writing Voodoo Child he was the creator and director of the Destination America television series Hauntings and Horrors. He has also written scripts for two Cinemax television series, Forbidden Science and Lingerie, which he also produced. He has also written magazine pieces for Fangoria and the Phantom of the Movies Videoscope among others.
William began his film and television career as a perfectly respectable video engineer at the venerable United Nations. Budget cuts shifted him to becoming a production manager and assistant director on an array of New York based indie films. With that experience under his belt he relocated to Los Angeles where he eventually produced sixteen feature films and two television series for the Playboy Entertainment Group. After years of producing T&A extravaganzas, kickboxing epics and gangster rap videos, he created a self financed television pilot entitled American Mystery Tour. Canada's CTV picked up the series under the title Creepy Canada, which was then re-titled Hauntings and Horrors in the USA. Since then he has successfully produced three series for HBO/Cinemax as well as documentaries and other … stuff.
After hundreds of hours of film and television production he is basking in the freedom of the written word, where small budgets and giant egos are only memories. He lives in Toronto.
If you enjoyed the first adventure please visit www.williamburkeauthor.com where you'll find lots of interesting information about Voodoo and military hardware, along with excerpts from Sarafina's personal diary AND, as a gift to readers, the author will be serializing a prequel novella
Author interview video: https://youtu.be/SXanlSkmHEI
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