Rebecca Besser's Blog, page 30
September 5, 2016
Author Jay Wilburn – The Dead Song Legend Dodecology (Book 3)
Excerpt from The Dead Song Legend Dodecology Book 3: March from Myrtle Beach to San Antonio by Jay Wilburn:
“This shouldn’t have happened again, Randy. We were counting on you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said and turned away from her. “Greg, go find Pete and figure out what the hell happened.”
People began filing out the door slowly trying to avoid the bodies and gore. Tiny counted only about a dozen zombies total. It did not look like anyone had gotten bitten and all the corpses were motionless on the floor.
Randy stepped up to their group. “We either have a breached fence or a sleeping guard. Either way, you should get inside your bunk. Sorry about the trouble.”
“Do you need help?” Satch asked.
Tiny sighed and rolled his eyes. We should be using this as our moment to escape.
“We have a system for searching and securing. You’ve already done more than your share here. It might be safer if you batten down and let us handle it. Sorry about the exciting evening, guys. I’ll see you in the morning.” Randy kicked one of the bodies on his way through the batwing doors.
“Looks like it’s bed time,” Kidd said.
“Or time to slip away,” Tiny said.
Kidd looked at Tiny and over at Satch. “Really?”
Satch shook his head. “We got jumpy guys with bows and arrows hunting for rogue zombies. We’ll end up speared, if we try to sneak around now. Let’s lock down like he said and stick with the original plan.”
They walked back along the facades until they reached their bunks. Shouts rose from different points of the camp in the distance. Satch opened the door and they went inside as two men with shotguns walked by behind them.
Satch pushed the door closed behind them. “We might want to set a guard schedule tonight or barricade the door maybe.”
The door burst open and slammed into Satch’s back knocking him a few steps away. The two men stepped in training their snub nosed shotguns on Satch and Kidd. The one aiming on Satch had a tight crew cut with patches of hair all along his neck and jaw. He wore black pants, boots, and a short sleeved shirt. The other man was dressed similarly, but was more bulky. He had thick, hairy arms and either had a shaved head or was bald. The darkness of the bunk didn’t allow for any better detail.
The man with the crew cut said, “I’d rather get the reward for bringing you in alive, but if you make it easier to kill you, I’ll do that and take the cut. If you make me shoot you, it will be in the gut, so that your faces aren’t messed up. You move; I shoot. Got it?”
“We got it,” Satch said.
“Stand guard outside until we’re ready to move.”
The bald man stepped back out and closed the door. The bounty hunter kept his gun on Satch with his finger inside the trigger guard. He reached down to his belt and pulled off three sets of handcuffs. He tossed one each at their feet with Tiny on the left, Satch in the middle, and Kidd on the right. His hand returned to the stock of the short shotgun.
“Behind your backs and then turn where I can see that you got them tight. Let’s go quick so you or your friends don’t end up hurt.”
None of them moved.
“Is this the moment where you test me to see if I’m serious, boys?” he asked. “You got your dicks up down in the valley with the others you killed and you think you’re dealing with someone like them. How about I shoot your dick off and take you in alive, but screaming? Would that convince you?”
He lowered his aim on Satch.
“I just didn’t want to move and get shot,” Satch said. “You seem like a jumpy sort.”
“I’m cool as a fucking cucumber, Satchelmouth Murderman. Now cuff yourselves.”
There was shouting outside and shots sounded off. One report from a shotgun outside seemed to vibrate the whole room.
The guy cocked his head over his shoulder to the left.
Kidd sprung from the right. He grabbed the gun and shoved up. One barrel went off into the ceiling filling the room with an eruption of sound and a rain of dust. The bounty hunter jerked his head to the side slamming Kidd’s face. Kidd grunted but still struggled for the gun. The hunter stomped Kidd’s knee dropping him to the floor.
He brought the gun down toward Kidd.
Satch launched and drove his helmet into the hunter’s face. Another shot roared blowing apart the side of one of the bunks in a hail of splinters. Satch and the hunter slammed into the closed door.
Gunfire continued outside muffled by the ringing in everyone’s ears in the closed space of the bunks.
Kidd came back up and grabbed the gun again. The hunter drove his knee into Satch’s gut twice. Kidd pulled the gun and the hunter shoved it driving the butt into Kidd’s jaw. Kidd Banjo staggered back, but had the shotgun in his hands.
Tiny drew his knife and charged from the left. The hunter twisted and pinned Tiny’s arm to the doorframe with his elbow short of the stab. He lifted off and slammed his elbow into Tiny’s wrist again causing him to drop the knife. The hunter twisted back still struggling with Satch but connecting with Tiny’s nose with his forearm. Tiny saw stars and held his face as he staggered and then fell.
Kidd rested the bore of the shotgun into the hunter’s ribs pulling back the hammers. Satch drew his knife. The hunter grabbed Satch’s knife hand in both of his and twisted it back toward Satch’s face. Kidd pulled the trigger and the gun clicked empty. Kidd reached for his own knife. The hunter lifted his right boot and side kicked driving his heel into Kidd’s chest. Kidd launched backward dropping the shotgun. He slammed into the damaged post of the bunk snapping through it and dropping the top bunk on top of himself.
Tiny got to his hands and knees and crawled toward his knife on the floor. He couldn’t draw air through his nose.
The hunt swung his left leg around and swept Satch’s legs out from under him. Satch’s helmet rolled away. They slammed to the floor with the hunter on top pushing Satch’s knife slowly toward his face.
Kidd stumbled out from under the mattress with the assault rifle. He squared and aimed at the hunter’s side. The hunter rolled hard pulling Satch on top of him between him and Kidd’s aim.
Kidd lifted the rifle away. “Shit.”
Tiny got his knife and sat up on his knees.
Satch brought his knife around pointed at the hunter’s face. The hunter lifted his feet under Satch’s body and rabbit kicked his weight up into the air. He rolled hard to the side and threw Satch into Kidd knocking them both away.
Tiny made a stab at the hunter. The hunter came up and caught Tiny’s wrist. He twisted and took the knife away from Tiny. The hunter stood, pulling Tiny to his feet as he drew the knife up above Tiny’s skull.
The door swung open hitting the hunter’s shoulder and elbow knocking them both a few steps to the side. The hunter’s partner charged in backward aiming his shotgun out the door with an arrow in his left bicep. He bled from a bullet wound in the other shoulder.
The hunter backed out of his partner’s way and Tiny bolted out of the reach of the knife. The hunter reached around and grabbed the gun out of his partner’s hands. He whipped around on Kidd and Satch. The hunter sidestepped and when Kidd fired he hit the partner once in the side, once in the neck, and once in the head. The bigger man went down.
Tiny dropped to the floor to avoid being hit.
The hunter pulled the trigger and the gun clicked empty. “Shit.”
Kidd fired again, but missed. The hunter made a break for the door. One of his boots came down on a pair of handcuffs and slipped out from under him almost causing him to do a split. Kidd shot him in the thigh blasting open the muscle in a meaty mess.
The hunter grabbed his leg and drew back Tiny’s knife to throw it. Tiny grabbed the hunter’s wrist with both hands stopping the man’s motion with his hand cocked behind his back. The hunter turned his head and glared at Tiny with teeth gritted. Tiny couldn’t tell if it was pain or anger.
Kidd fired twice more hitting the man in the chest both times. Even in the darkness, Tiny thought he could see the color drain from the man’s face even though he could barely hear the gunshots anymore.
Tiny pulled his knife from the hunter’s grasp. “Enjoy your reward, Mary.”
Tiny stabbed the bounty hunter in the throat. Blood gushed from the wound down the front of his shirt. The man clawed at his own open throat and Tiny pulled the blade free letting the hunter fold to the bloody floor.
Author Jay Wilburn
Jay Wilburn lives with his wife and two sons in Conway, South Carolina near Myrtle Beach on the Atlantic coast of the southern United States. He has a Masters Degree in education and he taught public school for sixteen years before becoming a full time writer. He is the author of many short stories including work in Best Horror of the Year volume 5, Zombies More Recent Dead, Shadows Over Main Street, and Middletown Apocalypse. He is the author of the Dead Song Legend Dodecology and the music of the five song soundtrack recorded as if by the characters within the world of the novel The Sound May Suffer. He also wrote the novels The Great Interruption, Time Eaters, and co-authored The Enemy Held Near with Armand Rosamilia. Jay Wilburn is a regular columnist with Dark Moon Digest. Follow his many dark thoughts on Twitter as @AmongTheZombies, his Facebook author page, and at JayWilburn.com
©Jay Wilburn, 2016. All rights reserved.
September 4, 2016
Nurse Blood Blurb – Jaidis Shaw
Jaidis Shaw owns and operates Juniper Grove Book Solutions, voted Top Three for Best Promotional Firm, Site, or Resource in the 2013 Preditors & Editors Readers’ Poll. In her spare time, Jaidis maintains her two blogs, Juniper Grove and Blooming with Jaidis.
Find her books by following the link below, and see what she has to say about my novel, Nurse Blood!
Click here to visit Nurse Blood on Amazon!
September 3, 2016
Author Jay Wilburn – The Dead Song Legend Dodecology (Book 2)
Excerpt from The Dead Song Legend Dodecology Book 2: February from Vicksburg to Cherokee by Jay Wilburn:
They scrambled out from under the remains of the shack and ran through the gap created by the dead chasing them over the top where they used to be. Satch was carrying his sister trying to hold her throat, but he still nearly outran Tiny. Blood dripped into the pine straw behind them and Tiny heard the dead following.
“How far, Satch?”
“Down by the river. Keep going.”
As they crossed the road, a zombie with green smeared in its beard whirled on them. Satch ducked away and Tiny stabbed into its head. Brackish water gurgled out of the wound and the grimy creature collapsed to the road.
Another dove teeth first at Satch’s leg and he had no free hand. Tiny stabbed into the forehead and stopped the undead attack short. He ran after and tried to get ahead to provide Satch cover, but Satch was not slowing down.
They reached the bank and Tiny saw the boat a few feet farther on. Satch jumped in. “Can you drive it?”
“I don’t know how.”
“Hold her wound.”
Tiny dropped the knives in the boat and covered her throat. Satch stepped out and leaned to push the boat off. A creature blasted through the pine branches with arms out.
“Satch.”
He turned with his hands still on the boat and thrust kicked heel first into the zombie’s jaw. The bottom teeth jammed back into its face. The creature folded backward and stumbled onto its back on the bank. It rolled over and scrambled to its feet again. More emerged from the trees and staggered toward the boat on both sides.
Satch splashed out into the water and then jumped in the boat. The dead splashed into the river after them. They’re going to flip the boat, Tiny thought. Satch engaged the motor and the boat lurched backward.
The zombie with the collapsed jaw dove where the boat had been and vanished below the water. The river water splashed up into the air like piranha are tearing apart a cow below the surface. Tiny turned away from them and watched Peck bleed below his hand.
Satch lowered the motor and let the current turn the boat. Tiny saw the dam stretch above them. One of the dead stumbled over the railing and dropped into the water. Satch blasted the motor and the boat tilted as it raced across the Tennessee toward the southern bank.
Peck coughed and lurched under Tiny’s hand. He was actually surprised she was still alive. He felt air pass wet through the wound under his hand and she stilled. Her eyes slid open and stared glazed up into the sky. Tiny saw the reflections of the clouds rolling across the wet curves of Peck’s eyes as Satch pressed the engine.
“Satch.” Tiny whispered, but the words were lost in the roar of the engine against the Tennessee River.
Peck heaved for air and fought against Tiny’s grip.
Satch called. “Hang on, Peck. We’re almost there.”
“Satch.”
Her teeth snapped and Tiny pulled his hand away. Peck sat up and clawed at her brother. Satch just stared as she reached for him. Tiny grabbed her braid and yanked her backward at the last moment rocking the boat.
Satch cut the engine. “Stop. You’re hurting her.”
Peck tried to roll over to bite Tiny. He pulled her braid again so that she fell back on his chest in the boat. Her skin had faded from the even brown that matched her brother’s to a sickly, gray hue. She snapped her teeth together loud enough to echo over the water. Her voice came as a hiss and gurgle from the deep cut in her throat. She thrashed bobbing the boat from side to side.
Tiny slid his hand through the wet gore under her chin and then locked her head tight in the crook of his elbow to pin her jaw closed. She hummed and struggled.
“I said, don’t hurt her, Tiny.”
Tiny came up with one of the knives and held the poit next to the opening of her ear. As he prepared to drive the blade into her skull he focused on Satch holding his own, dark knife positioned above Tiny’s head aimed at him instead of his sister.
“Satch, we have to …”
“Don’t do it, Tiny. Don’t.”
They turned dead in the water as Tiny clutched Peck’s cold throat and Satch stood above with the clouds drifting beyond him.
Author Jay WilburnJay Wilburn lives with his wife and two sons in Conway, South Carolina near Myrtle Beach on the Atlantic coast of the southern United States. He has a Masters Degree in education and he taught public school for sixteen years before becoming a full time writer. He is the author of many short stories including work in Best Horror of the Year volume 5, Zombies More Recent Dead, Shadows Over Main Street, and Middletown Apocalypse. He is the author of the Dead Song Legend Dodecology and the music of the five song soundtrack recorded as if by the characters within the world of the novel The Sound May Suffer. He also wrote the novels The Great Interruption, Time Eaters, and co-authored The Enemy Held Near with Armand Rosamilia. Jay Wilburn is a regular columnist with Dark Moon Digest. Follow his many dark thoughts on Twitter as @AmongTheZombies, his Facebook author page, and at JayWilburn.com
©Jay Wilburn, 2016. All rights reserved.
September 2, 2016
Event – Book Signing at Licking Valley Elementary School Festival
Author Courtney Rene and I will be
signing/selling books at this event!
Licking Valley Elementary School Festival
(Flea Market and Craft Show)
92 5th Street S.E.
Newark, Ohio 43056-9422
Sept. 10, 2016
10AM – 5PM
Free Admission.
Table will be inside, close to the concession stand.
September 1, 2016
Author Jay Wilburn – The Dead Song Legend Dodecology
Excerpt from The Dead Song Legend Dodecology Book 1: January from Milwaukee to Muscle Shoals by Jay Wilburn:
Donna Cash tucked her dick away from the front of her sequined dress. She adjusted the wig she had borrowed from the box of supplies left unclaimed by previous drag queens, mostly eaten by zombies in the streets of Milwaukee.
She took the stage and stumbled on her left platform shoe which threatened to fold under and snap her ankle. Donna stood tall and sexy, but Timothy Janvier was short and had a growing belly. He wore a girdle and high platforms to make the transformation.
Donna straightened her back and slid her gloved hands down past the full curve of her hips. The fingertips showed through cuts in the satin gloves to reveal the shine of bright red nails against the sequins covering her body. She mixed wine color and slut red polish when she could find them in the ruins of beauty shops to get her signature hue that looked crackled and sexy under crappy propane lights. Beauty shops did not get hit like grocers, liquor stores, and gun shops. She slept in them some nights trying new make-ups until she felt drowsy.
The crowd did not turn her way right away, but a few went silent. She would take that as a recovery for now. The move was well practiced and required a little finesse to keep the satin from snagging on the sequins and ruining the sexy.
As she stood in front of the greenish metal of the microphone, Donna Cash decided to call an audible. The sultry tune of “True Folsom Blues” gave a good “come and bend me over” sort of jazz/blues vibe, but this crowd was already teetering. She leaned out toward the Asian fellow at the piano leading the band of guitars, drums, and horns. It wasn’t a bad ensemble for a post apocalyptic drag bar house band. She imagined it probably helped that nothing else was open for miles, so the surviving talent had pooled.
“Like Rome in the Renaissance,” Donna muttered.
“Florence,” the Asian fellow said. “We’re like Florence in the Renaissance.”
“Play something,” someone shouted. The titters of laughter and conversation followed.
Through it, someone else said, “Show us your pussy.”
The band leader tilted his head at Donna, but she shook her head at him.
Donna arched her back and gave her best swell of ass. Now she got some whistles and husky laughter. It was the kind of laughs straight dudes used to cover the tingles down under from a queen’s ass.
She whispered the chord progressions to the band leader. He nodded, but she still wasn’t certain. “True Folsom” was a safe opener because it was tough to fuck up. “Like a Ring of Fire” was a much harder mash-up, but if she wanted to play it safe, she could have stayed in Detroit.
Safe won’t earn you both toothpaste and dinner, bitches.
Donna stood back up straight and batted her eyes and pouted her lips in the flickering light from the lanterns. As she pulled a few more whistles, she tossed her head back and puffed out her chest which was mostly line illusion through make-up. A whiff of raw sewage wafted up from the grate just below the stage and she fought the urge to heave.
Tough to maintain a crowd of hard-ons over the smell of shit, but here goes everything.
“What the fuck were you looking at?” Donna Cash demanded. “You weren’t nearly so stiff when I went down. Did you have a heart attack and turn zombie on me, pumpkins?”
The crowd gave the first real cheer of the night. The crowd knew that you had to be bitten to turn into a zombie, but the joke still played. A mug flew past her head and shattered against the back wall. A pair of dirty, tightie-whities slingshot by her on the other side landing on top of the piano with the brown streak up. The fact that both missed her was a sign of respect in Donna’s book.
The band leader poked at a key and the other musicians came close to matching. He swiped the stained drawers aside with one elbow.
He muttered. “I kind of wish I was back in Hong Kong at moments like this.”
“Someone has been saving those up for a while,” she said to more laughs. “Well, I’m Donna Cash and I’m here now, mother fuckers.” She swung her palm around and slapped her own right ass cheek with a loud smack. “Hit it hard, boys.”
The music blasted out from the band almost on tempo.
“I made it through the wilderness … like a burning flame …”
After a few lines and a few moves, the crowd broke down the middle between cheers and dropped jawed awe – the perfect split. As the chain link at the far end of the room near the door rattled, Donna thought she was building to a climax. When the tables nearest the door barked on the floor and chairs overturned with sharp crashes, she suspected something else might be going down. The shouts and growls confirmed it.
One fellow picked up his chair and slammed the fencing. He caught one of the posts and broke the legs loose. Another man charged and jammed a Bowie knife through the links three times. He missed twice snapping the wire with a screech from the knife’s edge. The third stab caught one of the shadowed figure’s shoulders. A spray of black mist exploded out from a boil as the blade exited the rotten body. The man with the knife bent over and gagged, wiping the smear of gore around his eyes and nostrils.
Donna Cash added “Oh, shit” to the end of the chorus.
The men in the room lifted guns and aimed across the club. A shotgun blew out pellets from too far away ringing off the chain link and the closest tables. The band faltered, although to his credit, the drummer kept the downbeat. Another impotent, ear-ringing shotgun blast and one man still sitting and staring at Donna grabbed his face with both hands and fell backward onto the floor screaming. His friends on both sides of him dove for the floor.
Donna pulled the greasy green microphone free of the stand and rolled her hand in a circle. “Keep playing, boys. I think we can still salvage this. I’ve had worse nights.”
The band obliged.
More shots rang out until the sparks flew off the lock. The gate swung open and the dripping bodies staggered through the gap into the club. The ones in the back of the horde settled for falling upon the lax security trapped between the cage and the front doors.
Donna stepped off the stage with a whistle of feedback and kept singing. “That’s until I found you as the flames kept getting higher …” During the bridge, she broke off to call over the cheap speakers. “Put your barrels away, Pumpkins, I’ll handle these stiffs.”
The men looked between Donna sauntering across from the stage and the corpses shambling through from the cage. They kept their guns up and ready, but backed up watching her close the distance on the dead.
Donna continued the song as she slapped the ass of the black fellow that wore the shiny, silver helmet. Tight as a fucking drum. Who the hell still does squats during all this? Damn. He let out a little yelp and a few guys laughed despite the peril.
“Firm,” she broke to say before resuming the lyrics. “Like a ring of fire … torched for the very first time …”
Donna closed her hand over his bat just above his grip on the handle. She tugged at it rhythmically until he let go. She rested it on her shoulder and turned back to wink at the crowd just as the colorless fingers reached for her back.
“Look out, baby.”
Donna heard and she thought it might have been the same asshole that yelled to see her pussy. She really was winning the crowd.
With a backward jab, she felt the fat head of the bat connect with the orb of an eye socket. A little distance was gained, but rough fingers crackled as they clawed at her sequined back. The gun barrels rose so the darkness in each one loomed at her. She remembered the bullet holes backstage and figured she was out of time and out of luck with drunk aim.
Donna crossed her ankles and gave an expert spin. Light dazzled off her dress and the dead weight of her arm whirled the sweet spot of the bat into the temple of the scratchy corpse behind her. Even as his skull caved nearly into two pieces, she saw that the others had honed in on her as well.
Donna rolled the bat behind her and up over her shoulder as she tried to make her retreat appear to be a shuffle step. The bat whistled as it plowed down onto the top of a saggy jowled zombie. His head turned into a canoe and he corkscrewed as he collapsed onto the floor.
“Oh, the twist. How retro.”
Over the laughter, a gruff voice through the backstage walls said, “On your left, watch it.”
Donna whirled the bat overhead, but the wispy mustached partner of the black fellow stepped into view before the strike and drove a dark blade into the zombie’s ear. A fan of armpit hair spread out from under his extended arm. The creature staggered before falling limp off the end of the blade. Not to waste the swing, Donna whirled the bat an additional loop over the man’s long blond hair before ripping through the face of the cadaver she had been aiming for the first time. Its eyeball popped loose and landed in someone’s World’s Greatest Boss mug with the gray end of the optic nerve hanging up out of the hooch.
“Don’t drink that, pumpkin,” Donna warned.
Her strike glanced off too much to bust the one-eyed zombie’s skull, but she did turn its head completely around the wrong way. The body swiped blindly at the air as it stumbled backward over a chair into the floor.
The black fellow dodged past Donna with his head down and connected his silver helmet to the forehead of the next beast reaching for them. Its brains exploded out the back of its head leaving a brown smear on the silver helmet. The man raised his fists and jammed two broken chair legs through the heads of two more zombies bringing them down.
“I need my bat back, bitch.” The black dude adjusted his stained helmet up higher above his brow before he turned to face her.
A skinny girl with sheered bone exposed where her knees should have been drug herself between the feet of the slobbering, leaking men shuffling through the gate into the club.
Donna flipped the bat in the air and caught it on one clean spot holding the handle back out to its owner with the tight ass. She wrapped the cord to her mic around the neck of the dead girl on the floor as she went for Donna’s calf with broken teeth. Donna pulled tight drawing feedback and static from the speakers and lifting the girl up high enough that her fingers barely grazed the floor.
“Jesus, will someone close the damn door?” Donna lifted her chin to speak into the raised mic. “Everyone is getting in without a cover now.”
Author Jay WilburnJay Wilburn lives with his wife and two sons in Conway, South Carolina near Myrtle Beach on the Atlantic coast of the southern United States. He has a Masters Degree in education and he taught public school for sixteen years before becoming a full time writer. He is the author of many short stories including work in Best Horror of the Year volume 5, Zombies More Recent Dead, Shadows Over Main Street, and Middletown Apocalypse. He is the author of the Dead Song Legend Dodecology and the music of the five song soundtrack recorded as if by the characters within the world of the novel The Sound May Suffer. He also wrote the novels The Great Interruption, Time Eaters, and co-authored The Enemy Held Near with Armand Rosamilia. Jay Wilburn is a regular columnist with Dark Moon Digest. Follow his many dark thoughts on Twitter as @AmongTheZombies, his Facebook author page, and at JayWilburn.com
©Jay Wilburn, 2016. All rights reserved.
August 26, 2016
Nurse Blood Blurb – Gregory Norris
Gregory L. Norris is a full-time professional writer, with numerous publication credits on his resume, mostly in national magazines and fiction anthologies.
A former writer at Sci Fi, the official magazine of the Sci Fi Channel (before all those ridiculous Ys invaded), he once worked as a screenwriter on two episodes of Paramount’s modern classic, Star Trek: Voyager and am the author of the handbook to all-things-Sunnydale, The Q Guide to Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Alyson Books, 2008).
In late 2009, two of his paranormal romance novels for Ravenous Romance (www.ravenousromance.com) were reprinted as special editions by Home Shopping Network as part of their “Escape with Romance” segment – the first time HSN has offered novels to their customers.
In late 2011, his collection of brandy-new terrifying short and long fiction, The Fierce and Unforgiving Muse: A Baker’s Dozen From the Terrifying Mind of Gregory L. Norris was published by Evil Jester Press.
He has fiction forthcoming from the fine people at Cleis Press, STARbooks, EJP, The Library of Horror, and Simon and Shuster, to name a few.
Find his books by following the link below, and see what he has to say about my novel, Nurse Blood!
Click here to visit Nurse Blood on Amazon!
August 25, 2016
Nurse Blood Blurb – David Moody
Author David Moody grew up on a diet of trashy horror and pulp science fiction. He worked as a bank manager before giving up the day job to write about the end of the world for a living.
He has written a number of horror novels, including AUTUMN, which has been downloaded more than half a million times since publication in 2001 and spawned a series of sequels and a movie starring Dexter Fletcher and David Carradine. Film rights to HATER were snapped up by Guillermo del Toro (Hellboy, Pan’s Labyrinth, Pacific Rim) and Mark Johnson (Breaking Bad).
Moody lives with his wife and a houseful of daughters and stepdaughters, which may explain his pre-occupation with Armageddon. Find out more about Moody at www.davidmoody.net and www.infectedbooks.co.uk
Find his books by following the link below (look for his newest release: SCRATCH), and see what he has to say about my novel, Nurse Blood!
Click here to visit Nurse Blood on Amazon!
August 24, 2016
Nurse Blood Blurb – Joe McKinney
Author Joe McKinney has his feet in several different worlds.
In his day job, he has worked as a patrol officer for the San Antonio Police Department, a DWI Enforcement officer, a disaster mitigation specialist, a homicide detective, the director of the City of San Antonio’s 911 Call Center, and a patrol supervisor.
He played college baseball for Trinity University, where he graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in American History, and went on to earn a Master’s Degree in English Literature from the University of Texas at San Antonio. He was the manager of a Barnes & Noble for a while, where he indulged a lifelong obsession with books. He published his first novel, Dead City, in 2006, a book that has since been recognized as a seminal work in the zombie genre.
Since then, he has gone on to win two Bram Stoker Awards and expanded his oeuvre to cover everything from true crime and writings on police procedure to science fiction to cooking to Texas history.
The author of more than twenty books, he is a frequent guest at horror and mystery conventions. Joe and his wife Tina have two lovely daughters and make their home in a little town just outside of San Antonio, where he pursues his passion for cooking and makes what some consider to be the finest batch of chili in Texas.
Find his books by following the link below, and see what he has to say about my novel, Nurse Blood!
Click here to visit Nurse Blood on Amazon!
August 23, 2016
Official Release Day – Nurse Blood by Rebecca Besser
It’s officially release day of Nurse Blood!
Sonya Garret roams the bar scene hoping to steal the heart of an unsuspecting victim—literally…
Sonya, better known as Nurse Blood, is part of a team of lethal organ harvesters who seek out the weak to seduce, kill, and part out for profit on the black market. When Sonya meets Daniel McCoy, a young man recovering from a broken engagement, he’s just another kill to line her pockets with quick cash.
Agent David McCoy vows to find out how and why his twin brother Daniel disappeared…
Daniel’s body hasn’t been found, and the leads are slim to none, but it won’t stop David from dedicating his life to solving his brother’s case. When the evidence finally uncovers the shocking truth that Daniel’s disappearance is linked to organ harvesters, David knows his brother is most likely dead. But he’s determined to stop the villains’ killing spree before they strike again.
One last harvest is all Sonya and her team need to put their murderous past behind them…
A family with the rarest blood type in the world is the only thing standing between Sonya and retirement. David McCoy and the FBI are hot on their trail, though, and multiple targets make this the most complicated harvest yet. Will David unravel Sonya’s wicked plans in time to avenge his brother and save an innocent family? Or will Sonya cash in her final kill and escape for good?
Murder for profit stops for no man when you’re Nurse Blood.
An excerpt from Nurse Blood:
Prologue
The air inside the nightclub was hazy from smoke machines. Flashes of colored light cut through the swirls in beat with the pulsing music that shook the walls and the floor. The atmosphere was alive with movement―a mass of hot, swaying bodies bent on enjoying the moment. A monster waited in the depths of the darkness to bat her pretty eyes at someone and make them her prey.
The door of the establishment swung open to give way to three eager young men looking to have a good time and celebrate. The trio was instantly surrounded by dancing women. They made their way through the press of bodies to reach the bar.
Daniel forced himself not to scan the crowd for his ex-fiancée, April. But she was the least of his worries, as the real danger was a face he wouldn’t recognize.
Roy got their drinks while Hank and Daniel stood at a balcony that overlooked an even larger dance floor below. The smoke was thicker down there, and there were more lights. The dancers looked like they were paying sensual homage to their deity. The air was tainted with the aroma of perfume and alcohol; it burned the men’s nostrils and fueled their excitement for the revelry to come.
Daniel took a moment to text his twin brother, David, to let him know where they would be celebrating their shared birthday. He received a text back from David saying he was still an hour away.
Roy joined them with three shots and three cold bottles of beer, passing one of each to his friends. They downed the shots in one swallow before turning their attention to their beers.
“Dave will be here in an hour or so,” Daniel announced after downing his shot.
“Awesome—we’re gonna have a great time!” Hank yelled over the music.
As Roy took a drink of his beer, a petite, slim blonde grabbed his waist from behind. He jumped in surprise and turned, recognizing the young woman.
She tucked a finger into the front of his jeans, smiled at him, and tugged him away from his friends toward a table with another girl.
Roy looked back over his shoulder at his friends and shrugged.
“That’s Lynn,” Hank yelled to Daniel. “They’ve been seeing each other for a while. And that’s her cousin Trisha—you don’t want to go there.”
Daniel nodded and looked around. The warming effect of the shot was spreading through his body, relaxing him. He felt less paranoid about running into April.
While he was looking over the crowd, a woman caught his eye. She was a tall, slim brunette, and she was beautiful. She was standing alone at the end of the bar. He watched her for a few moments, and when she looked around, their eyes met.
He smiled and looked away.
Hank noticed Daniel’s mild interest. He knew what his friend had been through recently and why he was gun-shy with women.
“Go for it!” he yelled, nudging Daniel. “Have some fun!”
Daniel looked at his friend, took another swallow of beer, glanced at the woman—noticing she was still alone—and shrugged.
Hank laughed and gave Daniel a shove toward the bar, causing him to slam into two people who happened to be walking past. When he turned to them to apologize, he came face to face
with the very woman he was hoping not to run into: April. The man she was with was leaning on her with all his weight while she struggled to hold him up.
Daniel’s heart clenched in his chest and his lungs seized up for a moment. He felt his hand tighten around the neck of his beer bottle. He wanted to slam it over the other man’s head, but he managed to restrain himself. He didn’t want her to know how much the sight of her with another man hurt him, so he put on a brave front.
“Excuse the fuck out of me,” he said with a sadistic smile, raised the bottle in the air like he was toasting them, and then took a big swig of the brew. He was pleased with the shocked expression that spread across April’s face at his harsh greeting.
They didn’t say anything to Daniel, but focused back on each other and moved around him and deeper into the establishment.
Daniel glanced over to Hank, who was grinning from ear to ear.
He smiled at his friend, nodded, and forced himself to put one foot in front of the other until he made it over to the woman at the bar. While he walked he pretended not to notice that April had glanced back at him several times as she guided her drunken man to a table where he could sit down. He was determined to show April she wasn’t the only woman in the world. He was going to prove to himself and her that he was over the breakup.
“Hi, I’m Daniel!” he yelled when he reached the woman, leaning toward her a little so she could hear him as a new song started to play.
“Grace!” she yelled back.
They smiled at each other.
The couple chatted for a while about nothing important, since it was too loud to carry on a serious conversation, and ordered drink after drink as they stood at the bar. Daniel’s emotional tension eased little by little with every drink. He became more and more relaxed, and friendlier and friendlier with Grace. Before he knew what was happening, they were pressed up against each other while they conversed so they could hear each other better.
“Let’s get out of here,” Grace said. She kissed him and reached down between them to rub his crotch.
Normally Daniel would be shocked and uneasy by such a gesture so soon after meeting a woman, but he’d had enough drinks not to care about how respectable she was or wasn’t being.
He nodded in agreement and looked around for his friends, frowning.
“I have to tell my friends I’m leaving,” he said, taking a step away from Grace.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Grace said, rubbing his crotch again. “They’ll figure it out. Besides, you can call them later and they can pick you up from my place.”
That sounded reasonable so he followed her out to the parking lot. The night was clear and felt cool after the heat from the population of patrons inside the nightclub.
They stumbled together through the parking lot and paused to make out, pressed against the side of her car for a couple minutes before they finally separated their bodies to get in.
Daniel had the passenger’s side door open and was about to climb inside when his cell phone beeped, notifying him of a text. He stopped, stood up straight beside the car, and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket by mistake. He reached into his other back pocket and extracted his cell phone. He frowned and squinted to focus on the tiny, bright screen that said David was only a block away.
“What are you doing?” Grace asked.
“I can’t go with you,” he said with a sigh. “Sorry. I—”
He felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck. He reached up to figure out what had hurt him and spun around at the same time, dropping his cell phone and wallet to the asphalt parking lot.
Grace was standing behind him holding an empty syringe.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but you have to come with me.”
He tried to shove her away, but his limbs wouldn’t do what he wanted them to. His legs gave out from beneath him as the world blurred into a black blob of nothing.
***
Grace shoved Daniel’s tall frame into the passenger seat when he started to fall, smacking his head on the door frame. She quickly picked his feet up from the ground and spun him so she could get him all the way into the car.
She heard laughing as a couple made their way through the parking lot a few rows over, so she didn’t take the time to pick up what Daniel had dropped.
Grace shut the passenger door and ran around to the driver’s side of her car. She scanned the parking lot as she pulled out, not seeing anyone close-by. She’d been careful, watching for people as they’d headed outside, but the distant couple had snuck up on them. Luckily they hadn’t come close enough to see what she was up to. She tensed slightly when she had to pass another vehicle as she pulled from the lot out onto the street, but the man was looking in the opposite direction and didn’t even glance their way.
Once she was out of the parking lot and a couple blocks away, she pulled out her cell phone and called Roger.
“Hey,” she said into the phone. “I have fresh meat…”
Nurse Blood is available at:
©Rebecca Besser and Limitless Publishing, 2016. All rights reserved.
August 13, 2016
Nurse Blood – Cover Reveal and Pre-order
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