Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 147
December 3, 2020
A Bewitching Thursday
The Journeys of a Different Necromancer by James J Crofoot #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/oZx250CBxVu
Mystic UnRealized [Book Tour with Excerpt] #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/e5FI50CBxR5
Victor Lewellyn’s Honey Cakes ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza ~ Full Moon in Leo Brooklyn Ray ~ Queer Holiday Romance #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/u5yy50CBxOI
DECK THE HALLS HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA - THRILLER - DEATH MASKS by Kim Richards #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/tOQy50CBxCt
SPOTLIGHT - PARANORMAL THRILLER - THE REAPER COLLECTION by Jade Royal #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/xvrM50CBxB8
A Demon’s Witch by Tena Stetler ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza
http://www.roxannerhoads.com/2020/12/...
Black Oak : The Loveless Chronicles Chapter 1 by Titus Murphy
http://www.roxannerhoads.com/2020/12/...
Crow's Curse Series by Laura Bickle ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza
https://fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com...
Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza: Tail of a Feather by Melanie Snow
http://mommasaystoreadornottoread.blo...
Deck the Halls With Books Holiday Extravaganza: Fighting for Home by Kim Richards
http://mommasaystoreadornottoread.blo...
Holiday Extravaganza Queen’s Ascension Blood Prophecy Book Three by Barb Jones
https://www.lisasworldofbooks.net/202...
December 2, 2020
Crow's Curse Series by Laura Bickle ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza
Winter SolsticeBy Laura Bickle
The Oak King rules in sunshineOver the lush green of spring and summer’s heatLeaves and grasses whisper his nameWhile young birds chatter in treesAnd frogs murmur deep in rivers, surroundedBy cicadia song.The Oak King rules in a cacophony of sound,The seething, shimmering swirl of life.
The Holly King stalks himAs the chirps of crickets fadeGrowing stronger as the leaves fall from the treesAnd the days grow short.The Oak King, his power dwindling, walks among bare trees.His birds are silent, the frogs hibernating. Life has gone to slumberBlanketed by the cold glitter of frost.
The Holly King strikes the Oak King down.The Oak King exhales his last steaming breath As snow muffles the world.This is the Holly King’s realm, SoundlessStill Stars shining down on a field of snow.
But on the Winter SolsticeThe Oak King awakens.His power is dim, quiet.But he grows in strengthAs the sun moves north in the sky.In the coming months, he will hunt down the Oak King.And summer will rule once again.
So it has ever been, the war of sound and silence.
Morrigan’s Blood Crow’s Curse Book OneLaura Bickle
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark FantasyPublisher: Syrenka Publishing LLCDate of Publication: Sept. 25, 2020ASIN: B08B9TJ4V9Number of pages: 188Word Count: 57000
Cover Artist: Danielle Fine
Tagline: Garnet has the blood of the legendary Morrigan – and legions of vampires and witches will go to war to possess that power.
Book Description:
Garnet has the blood of the legendary Morrigan – and legions of vampires and witches will go to war to possess that power.
As a trauma surgeon, Garnet Conners has seen more than her fair share of blood. But when one of her patients walks off the operating table and disappears into the night, she finds herself caught in a war between legions of vampires and witches in her city.
Garnet has dreamed of bloody battlefields for years – and a mysterious lover who controls a kingdom. In her waking life, Garnet is shocked to meet that man in a club. Merrel knows her from another life, a life in which she was the legendary Morrigan, goddess of death and war.
Garnet rejects the notion of magical incarnations altogether. But she falls in with Sorin, a handsome warlock who’s determined to protect the former bootlegger city of Riverpointe from a secret society of vampires. Haunted by crows and faced with undeniable proof of magic, Garnet scrambles to protect her career and loved ones from magical violence.
Abducted by vampires who seek to turn her into a vampire against her will, can Garnet seize the power of the legendary Morrigan to forge her own path in her embattled city? Or will she be forced to serve as a fearsome weapon in a deadly nocturnal war?
Amazon
Excerpt Book One:
“What have you got for me tonight, folks?” I asked.
I backed through the doors of the operating theater, butt-first, gloved hands lifted before me to keep them clean. I took small steps, mindful not to lose traction. Those thin booties were slick, and I’d fallen on my ass on more than one occasion when I made sudden moves. Tonight, I was determined to get through surgery in an upright position and not have to scrub in twice.
One of the nurses read from notes on a computer terminal. “This guy was found in the parking lot of a closed bowling alley. Speculation is that he took a trip or two through the pin setting machine and got badly torn up.”
“Well, that’s a first.” I turned toward the operating room table. The light was so bright that hardly any shadows were cast in the room. They focused on the unholy mess on the middle of my table.
This. I’m supposed to fix this.
A man lay, unconscious, on the table. His chest was torn open, flaps of skin oozing onto wads of gauze and a paper sheet. His face was a mass of blood, now being daubed at with sponges. The anesthesiologist had found his mouth to thread a tube down, and someone had managed to get an IV started in one of his scraped-up arms.
My nose wrinkled under my mask. “What do the X-rays show? How deep does the damage go? Did he get a CT?”
A nurse clicked on a flatscreen monitor that displayed a carousel of CT images. I squinted at them, muttering dark oaths.
“Radiologist says it looks like a lacerated pancreas, punctured lung, and two rib fractures,” the nurse said. The image switched to the head, and he said: “Also the bonus of a fractured orbital bone.”
I stared at the CTs. “Let’s start with that lung. We leave the pancreas, and call plastic surgery on that orbital bone. This guy’s going to need all the king’s horses and all the king’s men to put him back together again.”
“Will do.”
I gazed down at the poor suffering bastard. I liked seeing the imaging, but I preferred to get a good visual with my own eyes on my patients. Sometimes X-rays and CTs didn’t tell me everything I needed to know about what to start sewing where. Something about seeing where the blood moved and pooled in an injured person gave me an idea of where to begin. The blood always led me to where I needed to direct my attention. Where it spurted required my immediate expertise. Where it clotted or moved lazily, I could wait a bit. When blood drained out of a limb and had left it white, I needed to add more. I noted with approval that he was already receiving a transfusion. As long as blood was moving, there was a chance for him
I frowned at his chest and touched the edges of the rends in his flesh with gloved fingers. Those were ragged and would have to be cut clean before I sewed him back up. I could see the edge of one of those protruding ribs, sticking up like a finger. I glanced over his limbs, counting the usual four. Hey, it pays to count. Count twice, cut once. I mentally cataloged bruises and scrapes, nothing that needed my immediate attention, though I flagged the palms of his hands to get a few stitches from the surgical resident. Looked like defensive wounds, like the guy had tried to fight the pin machine, but lost.
My eyes moved up to his face. One blackened eye was swollen shut. My fingers and gaze wandered over his scalp, checking for major wounds, when I spied a laceration at his throat.
I gently probed it with gloved hands. Some kind of puncture…the machine must have caught him near a seeping vein. It had nearly dried up, smelling rusty and not like the bright, coppery blood of his more critical wounds. It could still take a few extra stitches.
I stared down at the unfortunate guy’s oozing chest. Peeling back a flap of skin, I felt around for the collapsed lung. My finger quickly squished around and found the hole, and I extended my free hand for a scalpel. Time to get this party started…
…when the patient sat bolt upright on the table. His good eye was open, rolling.
I yanked my hands back and yelped at the anesthesiologist, “Curt, what the actual hell?”
The OR erupted in a flurry of activity. The anesthesiologist arrived at the patient’s side with a syringe, while nurses tried to push the patient back down.
But he was flailing, windmilling with his arms like a pro wrestler in the ring. The IV ripped out of his arm, and the line slashed back at the anesthesiologist, whipping across his face. The patient reached up and ripped the tube out of his throat. His foot caught an instrument tray, sending scalpels flying. His blood line yanked away, spewing crimson all over the floor.
I held my hands out, using my most calming voice. Not that I had a particularly calming voice; I was a surgeon. We don’t talk to patients. But I tried: “You’re safe. I’m your doctor, Dr. Conners. If you just lie back, we’ll make you comfortable and—”
The guy shrieked and launched himself off the table. The paper sheet tangled around his legs, and he grasped it around his waist as he put his shoulder down and aimed for the door. His shoulder hit me in the arm, and I slipped on my booties, landing on my ass on the tile floor. The patient launched through the swinging doors and disappeared down the hall.
I swore and ripped my booties off my sneakered feet. I clambered to my feet and punched the intercom at the door with my elbow. “Security, code orange at OR 6.” I couldn’t say: I’ve got a runner taking off down the hall. Please send somebody to stop him, because anyone listening to that would freak the hell out, and I would get a talking-to from HR.
I straight-armed the door and took off after the guy. I had no idea how the hell this man was still walking around. Those injuries should have flattened him, and he’d been anesthetized. I had graduated med school with Curt a few years ago, and knew him not to be a careless anesthesiologist who played on his phone in the OR.
The patient skidded down the hallway, landing at a dead end, where a window overlooked the parking lot. The sun had just set, and the sky was the violet color of a fresh bruise. I approached him slowly, like I was herding a feral cat. I tugged my mask down to try and give him a human face to look at.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” I murmured soothingly. I wanted to keep him here until security arrived. If he got even further loose and hurt himself, that would be one obnoxiously long incident report. And an even more involved surgery after that.
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not gonna be okay. The bloodsuckers found me…and the Lusine couldn’t protect me.”
“I don’t know who that is,” I said, thinking that the guy had probably run afoul of some loan sharks. Maybe the mob? “But you’re safe here. We can protect you.”
“No,” he gasped, his face twisted in agony. “No one can protect me. And no one can protect Emily.”
He turned toward the window, backed up a few steps.
“No, wait…” I could see what he was trying to do, and I was helpless to stop it.
He rushed the window, aiming for it with his shoulder. All the latches on the hospital windows on patient floors were welded shut, but this wasn’t an area where conscious patients had access, and the window was not secured against suicide attempts. The glass buckled under his shoulder, the window crumpled away, and he pitched through in a hail of glass into the falling darkness.
I rushed to the window and stared down at the parking lot in horror. Three stories down, the patient sprawled on the parking lot blacktop, flattened like a bug under a shoe.
Curt had come up behind me. “Oh, my god, Garnet…did he…”
“He jumped,” I said, my heart in my mouth. I turned and ran to the stairwell, barking at him. “Get a gurney and the ER team.”
I burst into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. As I rounded the third curve, my path was blocked by a tall, dark-haired man in a brown velvet blazer and jeans. He was the type of guy that I might have liked to meet in my off-time—he had a kind of scholarly intensity in his hazel gaze and a bit of roguishness in the stubble that covered his sharp jaw.
“Stand aside,” I blurted. “Emergency!” As if my bloody gloves and surgical gown weren’t warning enough.
But he blocked my path, one hand on either stair rail, his long arms spanning the length of the stairwell. “That man is dangerous,” he growled softly.
“That man is under my care,” I announced, lifting my chin. I walked into the man, figuring that he would give way to my outstretched bloody gloves. Like a normal person would.
. But he didn’t. My sticky gloves nearly mashed into the velvet of his jacket, and he didn’t flinch. This close, he smelled like old books and moss.
“You can’t go down there,” he said. His voice was soft, but insistent.
My eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to tell me where to go,” I chirped petulantly. I ducked under his arm, darting out of his reach, and barreled down the steps the remaining way to ground level.
I rushed out into the parking lot and stopped short.
“What the actual hell—”
The patient peeled himself off the ground and crawled to his feet. He reminded me of a half-dead insect when he did so, shaking and rickety and dripping blood.
That’s impossible, I thought. There was no way that a human being could do that. I took two steps toward him…
…and a dozen people flitted out of the darkness, from the shadows beneath cars and behind shrubs. The overhead parking lot lights, haloed by moths, illuminated their long shadows on the pavement.
I breathed a sigh of relief. The squad was here and would get him stable, get him back to my OR.
But…my brow wrinkled. That wasn’t the squad. Nobody was in uniform. They converged on him as he turned, screaming.
“Stop!” I shouted.
Heads turned toward me. Their faces were moon-pale and glistening in the lamplight.
The man in the velvet jacket grabbed my arm, dragging me back. “You want no part of this.”
“Don’t tell me what I want,” I growled. I stomped on his instep and twisted my arm to break his grip at the weakest part, the thumb. I whirled and ran toward the fracas.
The shadowy people had plucked my patient off the pavement, clotting around him.
I yelled at them, the way I might yell at pigeons in the park who were eating my dropped French fries.
Overhead, the parking lot lights shattered, one by one, in a series of pops. Someone had a gun. I flinched back, shielding my face from flying shards of plastic with my hands, as I was suddenly plunged into darkness. I heard fighting, yelling, as if a gang war had broken out in front of me, roiling in the dark where no one could see.
Or at least, as dark as things could get in Riverpointe. Riverpointe was a decently sized city, and ambient light filtered back quickly from the freeway, headlights on the access road to the hospital, and the hospital’s helipad above.
As my vision adjusted, I realized I was alone. The people who were trying to abduct my patient, my patient…even that fascinating-smelling velvet guy…all were gone.
Ambulance lights flashed at the end of the parking lot, approaching me. Behind me, I heard the hammering of footsteps on the stairwell. Security spilled out behind me, along with a few cops who’d been hanging out in the nurse’s lounge. The EMTs pulled up to the curb, and there were all of a sudden a couple dozen people churning in a uniformed cloud around me.
“Where’d the guy go?” a security guard asked me.
A moth that had once orbited the parking lot lights flitted down and smacked my face. I batted at it, grimacing.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, stunned. “He was just…taken.”
The moth landed on the ground on its back, wiggling.
With bloody fingers, I picked it up and placed it gently in a nearby shrub. Lights, voices, and radios crackled around me. Questions rose and fell, directed at me in a tide of inquiries I couldn’t answer. But I stared at the bloody moth, stained by my touch, as it sought a safe place among the churning shadows and light.
Morrigan's Bite
Crow's Curse Book 2Laura Bickle Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark FantasyPublication Date: October 23, 2020Publisher: Syrenka Publishing ASIN: B08B9GVMZM
Book Description:
Becoming a vampire was the worst thing to ever happen to Garnet Conners. But does she have to become a monster, too?
Garnet had a beautiful life…and it was stolen from her when she was turned into a vampire against her will. Once a successful trauma surgeon with good friends, she now finds herself hiding out in the basement of a coven house governed by hostile witches. Struggling with her vampiric urges, she despairs of ever returning to her former life.
Garnet’s discovered that she’s an incarnation of the legendary Morrigan. She dreams in blood, of the Morrigan’s other bloodthirsty incarnations over the centuries. Garnet’s dreams reveal her previous existence as Erzebet Bathory, and Garnet fears becoming that monster once again.
With the help of the witches, she attempts to learn to use her magical powers to control her vampiric nature…an experiment that ends in disaster. When her sister and friend go missing, Garnet knows she’s being hunted by vampires who will stop at nothing to bring her back into their fold.
Merrel, the vampire who turned her, offers her a bargain. He will return the abducted women, but Garnet must agree to spend three nights with him, training as a vampire. Garnet reluctantly accepts, but she fears giving in to her vampire nature and becoming the killer of the previous lifetime she’s reliving in her dreams.
Amazon
Morrigan's Bond Crow's Curse Book 3Laura Bickle Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark FantasyPublication Date: November 19, 2020Publisher: Syrenka Publishing LLC ASIN: B08B9KRLKZ
Book Description:
To end the war between vampires and witches, Garnet must battle the queen of the vampires, a woman who the Morrigan narrowly escaped in the skies of World War II.
Garnet Conners, incarnation of the legendary Morrigan, has pieced her life back together. After being turned into a vampire against her will, she’s quit her career as a surgeon and taken a job on the night shift at the city morgue. To her dismay, victims of vampires are piling up at the morgue…including the body of the vampire who turned her, Merrel.
Merrel’s faked his own death to set into motion a plot to wrest control of Riverpointe’s vampires from their queen, Varya. If Garnet helps him, he promises to move the vampires away from Riverpointe entirely, leaving Garnet and her lover, the warlock Sorin, in peace.
But Garnet’s haunted by dreams of her prior incarnations as Alix, one of the pilots of the fabled Night Witches in World War II. Alix fought Varya during the war… and was nearly destroyed by her. Varya held a magical artifact hostage, the magical sword Durendal, which she still uses to control the Asra hive of vampires.
When the vampires burn down the witches’ coven house, Garnet and her allies must locate the vampires’ stronghold. She, Merrel, and the surviving witches must rip Durendal away from Varya…or the city and all its supernatural inhabitants will be devoured in flames.
Amazon
About the Author:Laura Bickle grew up in rural Ohio, reading entirely too many comic books out loud to her favorite Wonder Woman doll. She now dreams up stories about the monsters under the stairs and sometimes reads them to her cats. Her books have earned starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Kirkus. Laura’s work has also been included in the ALA’s Amelia Bloomer Project 2013 reading list and the State Library of Ohio’s Choose to Read Ohio reading list for 2015-2016. The latest updates on her work can be found at authorlaurabickle.com.
Newsletter: https://bit.ly/3078uLT
Website: https://www.authorlaurabickle.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Laura_Bickle
Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/Author.Laura.Bickle/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laurabickle
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A Bewitching Wednesday
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A Demon’s Witch by Tena Stetler ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/XUF250CAq7e
DECK THE HALLS HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA - HISTORICAL FANTASY - FIGHTING FOR HOME (Descendants of the Amazoi, #1) by Kim Richards #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/dMju50CAqjU
Full Moon in Leo by Brooklyn Ray - Book Tour + Giveaway
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CROW'S CURSE SERIES by LAURA BICKLE HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA FEATURE
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Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza: Death Masks by Kim Richards
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December 1, 2020
A Bewitching Tuesday
Tail of a Feather The Spellwood Witches Book Three by Melanie Snow #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/7khW50Czer2
Mystic UnRealized by S. Peters-Davis #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/d1gm50CzesR
Full Moon in Leo by Brooklyn Ray ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/IjrM50CzelH
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Death Masks by Kim Richards ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/w6i850CzeeO
The Journeys of a Different Necromancer by James J Crofoot #bewitchingbooktours
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A Demon’s Witch by Tena Stetler ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/nCnr50Cze8X
Black Oak by Titus Murphy
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Crow’s Curse Series by Laura Bickle
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Holiday Extravaganza Fighting for Home by Kim Richards
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The Reaper Collection by Jade Royal
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The Reaper Collection by Jade Royal
The Reaper CollectionJade RoyalGenre: Paranormal ThrillerDate of Publication: 10/29/2020ASIN: B08KC7237ZWord Count: about 80KCover Artist: V Designs
Tagline: Death will soon find you...
Book Description:
They're coming without mercy…
The OptimistThe ChildThe Scorned WomanThe Best Friend
They want revenge...
A chain of lies spoken by trusted parents, stolen possibilities from a lover, the wrongful conviction of a stranger, and betrayal by the greatest ally. Pain corrupts their minds, twists their souls, and schemes a plan for death. Their victims will face karma, delivered as retribution.
And nothing will stop them…
Amazon Books2Read
Excerpt 1
“Thirty,” Remi blurted.
“Thirty what? It’s going to take more than a measly thirty bucks to get you out of this, Remington.”
“Thirty seconds,” Remi pushed anxiously. She needed more time.
“Fourteen. No more. No less.”
Remi mumbled to herself. Maybe this was just a sick joke that would reveal itself after the fourteen seconds were up.
“Ready, little rabbit?” Zachary’s voice was low and threatening. Danger.
About the Author:When the voices begin to speak, Jade Royal sits down in her lab to write the tale. The story unfolds with each keystroke as she listens to her instincts bring the words to life. For as long as she can remember, Jade has always expressed her creative nature artistically, especially by writing. She refers to herself as “Slave to the Pen” because it’s difficult for her to resist the call to write.
Jade resides in Cincinnati, Ohio where she was born and raised. She has many siblings and is very family-oriented. She spends Sunday evenings eating dinner with them keeping the bond between family nice and strong.
As an international bestselling author, Jade hopes to pull in her readers to experience a community of stories that they can relate to on various levels. The emotional roller coaster that is bestowed will hopefully make her readers stalk her words and provide literate entertainment.
For more information on Jade Royal, follow her on her website and social media avenues.
November 30, 2020
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A Bewitching Monday
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Black Oak: The Loveless Chronicles Chapter 1 by Titus Murphy
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Black Oak : The Loveless Chronicles Chapter 1 by Titus Murphy
Black Oak The Loveless Chronicles Chapter 1 Titus Murphy Genre: Horror, FantasyPublication Date: October 31, 2020Publisher: Cosby Media Production ASIN: B08KRQDCGY
WELCOME TO BLACK OAK!
In the town of Black Oak, nothing is ever what it seems. Besides the wrangling local country-types, the city is marred by a history of indiscretions, murders, and no-named civilians perpetrating as heroes. But beneath the surface of this "run of the mill," Midwestern locale lurks a pervasive past that is about to come full circle: like a blazing blood moon.
Mark is an unassuming trucker who has fallen for a beautiful clerk working at a “Mom & Pop” store named Sharon, and nothing else in the world matters more than stealing her heart. But after making a run into the Bayou to deliver a package, destiny steps in and serves him a plate of "the unexpected," which sparks the flames of wickedness that will set his hometown ablaze. And as the secrets buried in this town begin to unearth, the truth will fan those burning flames until there is nothing left but ashes and chaos.
In the end, the only mystery left to solve will be if this is isolated to one town or involve the fate of the entire world...
FOREWORD REVIEW: "...full of interesting characters who hold attention...the secrets of their home are a binding force that brings the tale together."
CLARION RATING: 4/5 "In the fantasy novel Black Oak, citizens across two ears reckon with strange creatures among them."
Amazon
Exclusive Bewitching Excerpt:
“I don’t mean to sound pushy,” Beth started, “but earlier you said that I’m a Dreamer. Tell me more about what that is.”
Zack turned away from Frank, walked over to Beth, and took a seat back at the table next to her. “I’m going to give you the short version,” said Zack, “only because I need to get to the real reason for our visit.”
“Of course,” said Beth.
“So straight to the point, you are a Dreamer, as I said before,” Zack said. “That makes you part witch and part psychic but with an added benefit of being more powerful than both. The main difference between you and normal witches is that you can see into the future without using magic because your psychic side empowers you to do so naturally. And you don’t even need to train this skill. Where other witches fail, you succeed because they don’t have the natural psychic ability you do. They have to use magic to see into the future.”
Beth gawked in amazement at Zack’s words. “So how far into the future can I see?” asked Beth.
Zack shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. But what I do know is that the answers you seek can only be found in the grimoire. The grimoire is the most powerful spell book among witches and warlocks. Every spell from growing flowers in your garden to conjuring up lightning is recorded in that book. Every name of every witch and warlock, whether good or bad, down to every war, including the Great War of 1782 is recorded in that book. You can even find spells on how to create magical objects like amulets and talismans.”
“And even the mystical arts of performing magical charms and divination, on summoning or invoking supernatural entities, is also a part of that book,” Zoë chimed.
“Do you know how many supernatural beings would love to get their hands on that book?” Zack added.
“Where is the book now?” asked Beth.
“Long gone,” Zack said. “It was given to a very powerful witch like yourself to keep safe. She also was a dreamer, the first of your kind, and the only one until now. You are the second, my sister, in our 250 years of traveling on this earth.”
“Only the second?” said Frank.
“Yes, only the second, and we’ve been everywhere in this world, so that should tell you something. Your wife’s kind is rare.”
“Well, the question here for you to answer now is, who and where is the first?” asked Beth.
“Her name was Tiara. And she died along time ago,” replied Zack somberly.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you know her? I mean were you close with her?” asked Beth.
“Yes…very. She was the one who taught Zoë and me how to use our powers,” said Zack. His eyes beat over to Zoë. “She protected us during and after the Great War. If it wasn’t for her, we would’ve been dead long ago.”
“God, I miss her,” said Zoë, finally speaking up.
“Well, now that you know everything there is to know, keep this in mind. Power is innocent. The one who wields it…” said Zack with a brief pause. He pointed directly at Beth. “Well, that is what taints it. He or she must decide to use it for good or evil. That choice makes a difference.”
“Just remember who you are,” said Zoë, cutting in.
“I will,” said Beth.
“Good, now let’s get to the real reason why we’re here,” said Zack. “After the great battle back in 1782, Jackals and witches all went their separate ways as the town was no longer viable. The fallout of the fight was tremendous; houses were burned to the ground. Bodies were everywhere, and the land was saturated in blood and rotten flesh. The stench was unbearable. It was all a complete mess. So some witches migrated to the east while others went north. Zoë, Tiara, and I headed west. After settling down for a few months, we split up again and went our separate ways. Tiara told us she was going on a journey to find someone very important and that she would be back in approximately one year.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Beth, “why didn’t you two go with her?”
“We wanted to, but she forbade it. She insisted that we remain behind and give aid to any stragglers that needed assistance,” said Zoë.
“Yes, she did,” said Zack as he nodded in agreement. “There is not a day that goes by that I don’t live with the regret of my decision that day.”
“So what happened to Tiara?” asked Frank.
“We never saw her again,” said Zack, his voice raspy and soft. “But anyway, after 30 years away from Black Oak, we had grown very powerful, teaching ourselves the ways of mysticism and sorcery. And then one day in the fall of 1812, Zoë and I felt something: a surge of power we’d not yet experienced before. Not since the Great War. It was all in the air, calling out to us. So we packed our things and followed the surge to its source until it led us back here to our original home of Black Oak.” Zack took a moment to smile as Zoë placed a gentle hand over his. “I could see the town in the distance and, as Zoë and I approached, we started preparing ourselves for a fight because we didn’t know who or what was living there. But the closer we got, our minds began to calm. The visions before us were heartwarming. People were everywhere. Families and friends were bustling about. The town was good as new. It was like nothing ever happened and the magic we felt there was good and pure and untouched by evil.”
“You could sense it,” said Zoë.
“And now it’s happening again, but only this time, the magic feels different. It’s evil for sure, I know it,” said Zack.
“How can you tell?” asked Beth.
“Answer one question for me,” said Zack, staring intently at Beth.
“Okay,” she replied.
“What did you sense from my sister and me when you first opened your door?” asked Zack.
“Good. I felt good in both of you,” said Beth. “Nothing bad…not even a little bit.”
“And I too felt the same thing when I saw you. And I’m not talking only about tonight,” said Zack. “But what I feel in this town now is wicked. Mark my words. Something is coming. What’s more, is that something is already here. And that should be impossible. Do you know why?” asked Zack as he stared at both Frank and Beth for an answer.
They were both speechless, but Beth took a stab at it anyway. “There’s some special magic protecting us?”
“Yes. A force field—placed over this town hundreds of years ago by the witches, that was supposed to stop dangerous beasts or any other supernatural creatures from passing through,” said Zoë.
“But I’m afraid the force field failed against whatever forced its way in. Now Zoë and I need to find out who or what it is before someone gets hurt or maybe worse…killed.”
“Killed?” Beth inquired.
“Yes. On the way over here, we came across a sea of dead bodies in the woods. Most likely campers who were mauled to death, and it looked like the work of Riffs,” said Zoë nonchalantly.
About the Author:Titus Murphy was born and raised on the streets of New Orleans, Louisiana. From a small child, there was an overarching desire for Titus to do one thing: win. His drive and determination drove him to succeed. Armed with a strong mind, a quick wit, and a sharp tongue, he set out to emblaze his mark on everyone he would encounter. Unknown to him were the overwhelming obstacles and seemingly insurmountable tragedy he would have to endure. From this devastation came a resolve fueled by an uncompromising commitment that resonates through every aspect of his life. Forced from the city he knew and loved, Titus relocated to Atlanta, Georgia. It was there his desire and commitment came together resolutely to birth a dream that had long been held in his heart. Oblivious to detraction, and beyond all doubt, Titus would become an author. From the streets of New Orleans that marked his life, to the ink-graced pages upon which he now pours his soul, Titus Murphy has come to show the world that he is truly…something more.
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November 27, 2020
Character Interview - The Journeys of a Different Necromancer by James J Crofoot
Kent-Hello, this is Kent Alderridge with Interview a Book Character on wxyz radio.
Today we have a special guest from the hit book, The Journeys of a Different Necromancer. Live with us today is one of the main characters, will you introduce yourself?
Christina-Hello, my name is Christina. I’m the backbone of the book.
Kent-I’m sure this book is fantastic. What is your role in the book, The Journeys of a Different Necromancer?
Christina-Like I said, I’m the backbone and I’m also the love interest. Things that this Thomas, Student of Xavier never learned in his studies.
Kent-I see. You say he has no backbone, but he did take out a kingdom before he met you.
Christina-And then he tortured himself endlessly about it. Some people deserve to die, he just doesn’t get that.
Kent-And he did save you once from the brigands.
Christina-Ah he was slowing me down. And then he tortured himself over the way he saved that merchant's daughter just because she said she could never look at him the same. Bullcrap is what I call it. He keeps coming up with reasons to call himself and his magic evil and immoral.
Kent-So, do you think he does more good than evil with his magic?
Christina-There’s not an evil bone in Thomas’s body. He saves people.
Kent-I see, well one more question my listeners are dying to know, what about that dagger on your hip? Where did you get that from?
Christina-I got it from my father, and he did teach me how to use it. It is special to me because it’s the only thing of him I have left.
Kent-Have you ever used it before you met Thomas.
Christina-That’s a stupid question. I didn’t exist before James J Crofoot wrote me into Thomas’s life. Want me to use it on you for asking that question?
Kent-And that’s all for today folks. Tune in next time when we have another special surprise for you.
Christina-Do you do you want me to use it on you?
Kent-Cut to break! Cut to break!
Christina-Say the name again.
The Journeys of a Different NecromancerThe Locked Door SeriesBook OneJames J Crofoot
Genre: Young Adult FantasyDate of Publication: August 2, 2020ASIN: B08FCKJK5DNumber of pages: 100Word Count: 20k
Book Description:
Thomas wanted to learn to read and write things only Xavier the Necromancer could teach. But Thomas learned much more. He learned to raise the dead. Then, with his knowledge, he set out for the distant sea.
Along the way, he made an army, encountered a dragon, and fought thieves by the score. But, could he continue to use the knowledge Xavier gave? Could he hold to his teacher's views that all people were self-centered, greedy, and jealous of him for being so much better?
Could he return to the obsidian tower to live a life where the world was locked out, where his teacher had kept all life away to simply be left alone? Where no one ridiculed and beat him for being different? Could he return to a life where only the undead, his risen, kept him company?
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Excerpt
“I was with Xavier,” Thomas replied. With head bowed, he stared at his stew, sensing he would not be allowed to eat.
“Who?” His mother’s voice. Her angry, high-pitched voice.
Thomas looked up at his father to see a pipe halfway to a gaping mouth. “Xavier, you know, he lives in the tower. He wants to teach me to read and write. He wants me to be his apprentice.”
His mother sat down and stared at him.
“He’s got lots of books, scores of them. He showed me a book with lots of animals in it.”
His da sat back in his chair, silent. His mum folded her hands in her lap, also silent.
“Think of it,” Thomas continued excitedly. “Think of the things I could do if I could read. I could go and work for the prince in Targon, I could see the whole kingdom.”
“Go to bed, Thomas,” Da said.
The boy gazed down at his untouched food. It smelled good and looked even better, but his father had spoken. Thomas got up and climbed the ladder to his loft. Deep into the night, even after his parents stopped their whispered arguing, he lay in bed thinking of the map Xavier had shown him of the kingdom. He would find a way. He would be…what word had Xavier used? Necromancer. He would be a necromancer and he would see the whole kingdom.
* * * *
In the morning, Thomas awoke to the smell of porridge. Having had no dinner the night before, he hurried down the ladder. There he found his da already eating. His mum ladled his share into a bowl and then got some for herself.
“We’ve decided you may learn to read and write. None of that dark stuff, though. You hear? No digging up of graves,” his da said. “We want more for your life, Thomas. Now then, what does this friend of yours want in return? We can’t afford to pay anything. I suppose he mentioned a price.”
Thomas looked at his mum as she sat down. She folded her hands in her lap and remained quiet.
“He said it would cost nothing. He just wants someone to teach. Xavier said he’s getting old and just wants someone to pass on some of ’is…” Thomas paused trying to remember the word. “…knowledge.”
Da wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Then we’ll give it a try. Only til ’arvest, though. You’ll be needed in the fields then. Anything after that and we’ll see.”
A month and a half, Thomas thought excitedly. I have a month and a half!
“No good will come of this,” his mum remarked. “Mark my words, that man never did any good for anyone.”
Thomas finished his breakfast in a gulp and got up to run from the house. He stopped just outside the door to pick up his favorite stick and heard his da say, “I want better for him, Sonya. This life is no life for my son. He’s smarter than this.”
* * * *
A month passed and Thomas studied. He studied geography; the world turned out to be a lot bigger than he imagined. He learned arithmetic, how to count to a thousand. Then moved on to reading and writing, eight to nine hours a day he went through the books and scrolls. On the second and third floors of the tower stood skeletons of various animals, there he learned science, anatomy, and biology.
The fourth floor, however, Xavier said he needed to learn a good deal more before being ready for that.
“The villagers are shunning me,” he said to Xavier one day after learning the word. “They whisper about me whenever I pass. Even my friends. Yesterday I waved to them and started walking, to tell them what I was learning, and they turned their backs and ran away.”
Xavier looked up from the book he held. “People, for the most part, are very small-minded. They shun what they do not understand or things that are different.”
“Was that the way it was with you when you first started studying to be a necromancer?”
“People always thought me to be a little different. Look, Thomas, you will see more, you will do more, than they can imagine in their empty heads. You will learn to create life from death.”
Thomas thought about these words for some time. He wanted to do more than just plant and harvest. He wanted to travel this world, especially the sea to the west, to see more than just this tiny village too small for a name. He decided he liked being different. He was already learning more than they ever would. Did not that make him better?
About the Author:
James J Crofoot started working at 11 years old and never stopped. He’s been a sailor in the U.S. Navy, worked in video tape production, made money investing in stocks, and traveled throughout the US as a truck driver and an army brat. He’s been to all four corners of the US and to the top of every major mountain range in the United States.
Through it all, writing has been his first love, companion, and constant friend. He has so many stories to tell, he plans to spend the rest of his life writing.
Born in Germany he currently resides in the "Great Mitten" that is Michigan. He resides with his insane family consisting of his sister, two spoiled but loving nieces, a brother in law, and two dogs.
He hopes you’ll enjoy his books while sipping tea, coffee, or cocoa on a rainy day.
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