Reena Jacobs's Blog, page 12

Dark Light Fundraiser Tour + Giveaway Info!

One in a while, something significant happens in a life that makes a person sit back, think, and just be thankful for the turn of events. The Dark Light Fundraiser honors one of those moments and helps to put hope in the lives of others going through difficult times in their lives.

Dark Light is the light that shines through when some of the finest writers in horror use the power of their words for something good. That’s the case with this anthology—42 writers coming together to help support the Ronald McDonald House Charities and all the good the organization does for families every day of the year.

Make no mistake, though. These are horror writers and the stories they’ve written are not pretty. Traditional and non-traditional horror, dark humor, ghosts, serial killers, alternate universes, magic, zombies, and other creatures of the night hide between these pages. Shadows move and dead fingers stroke unsuspecting flesh, razor sharp knives shimmer in the moonlight, and unknown things hide in closets and under the bed. The stories here are as varied as the writers themselves. If you’re a fan of horror, you will not be let down.

Despite the horrific nature of these tales, however, their very existence in Dark Light stands as proof there will always be a light at the end of every tunnel.

Turn the lights down low and enjoy the show.

Available at Smashwords || Amazon

I want to say something, but I’m afraid I’ll get in the way of a beautiful story. So, I’ll just hand it over to Carl Hose and let him share his journey.

The Origin of the Dark Light Fundraiser
Carl Hose

My daughter Ireland Joy Hose was due to come into the world on March 3rd, 2012. Since my wife Marcee was going to have a C-section, her doctor scheduled her to deliver Ireland February 13th. It’s typical to schedule C-sections about two weeks before the actual due date, but in my wife’s case, the C-section was scheduled a little earlier because she had complete placenta previa, meaning her placenta was blocking the birth canal. This is normally not a problem unless the previa turns into accreta, which means the placenta attaches to body organs and actually begins to grow into them (pretty alien-like). This can result in severe hemorrhaging and may require a partial or even a complete hysterectomy.

All of this is beside the point. Ireland decided she wanted to show up on January 27th at 10:35 P.M. She was six weeks premature, 18 inches long, and weighed just 4 lbs. 13 oz.

Marcee had gone to the gynecologist that day. He told her she was having contractions. We went to the hospital, where they tried to stop her contractions. It didn’t happen. Marcee started bleeding, and while I write about blood all the time, seeing it pour from my wife’s body was pretty damn scary.

I was in the operating room when Ireland was delivered. She came out fine, although she would have her own struggles ahead of her in the coming weeks. Shortly after the nurses began cleaning Ireland up, one of the doctors said to another doctor that Marcee had accreta and would need a hysterectomy. I was caught between the joy of my daughter’s birth and my wife’s fragile situation.

The doctors began pumping my wife full of anesthesia and she was fading fast. All she wanted was to hear our baby girl cry, to know Ireland was all right. “Cry, baby girl,” she said, and when Ireland began to wail, Marcee drifted off.

I was ushered from the OR with Ireland in my arms. What followed was a two-and-a-half-hour wait while the doctors performed surgery on Marcee. There was a lot of blood loss, but in the end she came through the surgery alive and eager to see Ireland. Barely able to sit up, she insisted I wheel her to the nursery, where she held Ireland for the first time, a full four hours after Ireland was born.

Because Ireland was premature, she was going to be spending time in the NICU. She was moved to a different hospital—one that was further away from where we lived—the next night. Marcee and I agreed I should go with Ireland. There was really no discussion necessary. This, however, left Marcee alone to deal with the trauma of her experience without me or her newborn daughter to comfort her.

One of the memories that haunts me still is seeing an ambulance with the words Neonatal Transport Unit on the side and thinking, that’s a baby ambulance and it’s here for my baby.

I arrived at the hospital where my daughter was taken late that night. The blur begins here, so I don’t have the exact time. The NICU staff suggested I get a room at the Ronald McDonald House. I insisted I didn’t need one, that I would be staying at my daughter’s side day and night. They worked hard to convince me a room at the Ronald McDonald House made more sense—that it would be more comfortable than a chair in the NICU. If it had just been me, they probably wouldn’t have changed my mind, but since I knew Marcee was planning to join me as soon as she could strong arm the doctor’s into discharging her (which she did in record time), I relented and allowed one of the nurses to contact the Ronald McDonald House nearby to reserve us a spot.

It turns out no reservation was needed that night. Hospital security drove me to the Ronald McDonald House where we would be staying. It so happened I was the only guest at the time. The house was a quaint looking affair that reminded me of a bed and breakfast in the country—from the outside. Inside was a maze of stairways and narrow hallways that housed about thirty rooms. The security guard said I wouldn’t be able to get a key until morning, so once he left, I wouldn’t be able to get in and out. The doors lock automatically.

After the security guard left, I wandered around the house. It was beautiful. Hardwood floors, stocked library, fully-stocked kitchen (help yourself to anything you want), fireplace, and a playground outside for kids. It was amazing.

And a little creepy.

The house sat in a beautiful residential area with red brick streets and lots of gorgeous trees, but at night, alone as I was, still a little in shock over the premature birth of my daughter and the bloody mess that was Marcee’s surgery, my mind began working overtime. I imagined all sorts of creaking floors and shadows moving through the house—hell, maybe it wasn’t my imagination. In any case, sleep did not come easy that night. I’d seen far too many horror movies, written far too many horror stories myself, not to know what usually becomes of lone visitors in quaint country homes in the middle of the night. I called Marcee to let her know I was settled in and that I thought I had the company of ghosts, or maybe something much worse.

With no key, I used my overnight bag to prop the door open so I could step outside and have a cigarette.

It was a foggy night—isn’t it always?

One cigarette became two, two became three. I stood outside in the fog, looking through the chilly darkness, grateful to have a new daughter, but afraid for how fragile she seemed to be; happy Marcee came through the surgery alive, but sad she was alone at another hospital; missing our boys, who would end up seeing us very little over the next three weeks (although they were well taken care of, thanks to Marcee’s mom and dad).

It was 3:00 A.M when I finally went back inside and stretched out on the bed, fully clothed, lying on top of the covers.

Marcee arrived the next day. She shouldn’t have been walking at all, but she wouldn’t be denied her daughter. We spent the next three weeks living at the Ronald McDonald House (they moved us from the bed-and-breakfast model to one that resembled a fairly expensive hotel). Our days were filled with walking from the Ronald McDonald House to the hospital and back again. We would feed and change our daughter, hold her, and watch as she began to overcome the challenges of prematurity. She did those things like the little champ she is. I believe having us with her day and night helped contribute to her impressive adjustment to being thrust into the world so early. She is just over two months old at the time of this writing and healthy as can be. Marcee is doing great too.

The Ronald McDonald House played a big part in making this happen. They provided food, shelter, homemade gifts from volunteers, and even cards for Valentine’s Day. We didn’t need to do anything except be there for Ireland. If not for the Ronald McDonald House, Marcee and I would have had to travel every day to see Ireland, or we would have had to sleep in the NICU to be with her. We would have gladly done either, but the Ronald McDonald House made it so we didn’t need to.

The Ronald McDonald House does this for thousands of families every hour of every day of every year.

I came up with the idea for this anthology one night while Marcee and I were in our room at RMH. We wanted to give back to the organization not only for what it was doing for us, but what it has done for families since the first Ronald McDonald House opened its doors in 1974. The organization operates strictly on donations, and the best way I could think to give back was to use my talent with words.

I knew I couldn’t do it alone, however, so I called upon some of the best names in horror fiction to help out. The response was overwhelming. With very few exceptions, every author I contacted was willing to participate. I also received stories from writers who saw the call for submissions on Dark Markets. It wasn’t long before I had more stories than I could possibly use—enough to fill two volumes of Dark Light.

I can remember where I was and at what time of the day it was when I received word from each of these fine writers that he or she would be happy to contribute. It isn’t that difficult, though. I was either at the hospital or at the Ronald McDonald House. The days and nights ran together, but each one of these authors responding that he or she would be willing to participate in Dark Light was an uplifting moment.

I am grateful to the 42 authors included here, as well as to those who wanted to participate but couldn’t be included. I would also like to thank ahead of time all of you who will be helping promote the book after its release (there are several commitments already). Without each of you, this project could not have been realized. Your generosity warms my heart.

Contents

Introduction

Carl Hose ……………………………………………………………………….. 9

John Sadness

Jeffrey Thomas ……………………………………………………………….. 14

Crasher

Debbie Kuhn …………………………………………………………………. 23

Harbinger

Carl Hose ………………………………………………………………………. 37

A Sight for Sore Eyes

Deborah LeBlanc …………………………………………………………… 47

Confidence Man

David Tocher …………………………………………………………………. 55

Hunters

William Todd Rose …………………………………………………………. 67

The Vampire Shortstop

Scott Nicholson……………………………………………………………… 79

Protector

Rycke Foreman ……………………………………………………………… 99

After the Fall

Paul Fry ………………………………………………………………………. 104

Beijing Craps

Graham Masterton …………………………………………………………. 112

Shattered Mirrors and Smokeless Flames

Angeline Hawkes ………………………………………………………….. 137

3:33

Randy Chandler ……………………………………………………………. 150

Death Comes Calling

Randy Chandler ……………………………………………………………. 154

Live Better

Steve Voelker………………………………………………………………… 171

I Was Yet Another Teenage Vampire

C. Hugh ………………………………………………………………………. 174

Resurrecting Mindy

Joe McKinney ………………………………………………………………. 179

The Bride of Frankenstein Dances with Celebrity

C. Hugh ………………………………………………………………………. 198

Dead Run

Frank Larnard ………………………………………………………………206

Coda

Walt Hicks ……………………………………………………………………. 213

In a Fit of Jealous Rage

Ray Garton ………………………………………………………………….. 228

Charles

Steve Rasnic Tem ………………………………………………………….. 239

Cut

Alex Bledsoe ………………………………………………………………… 250

Harlots of New Chapel Row

Terry Horns Erwin ………………………………………………………… 253

Animals

Kody Boye …………………………………………………………………… 275

Beach House

William Cook ……………………………………………………………… 299

It Sounds a Bit Like . . .

Gary Fry ……………………………………………………………………… 309

Conversations Kill

Tim Waggoner ……………………………………………………………… 320

Raphael

Stephen Graham Jones …………………………………………………… 335

Taken

Felicia Merkler …………………………………………………………….. 361

Blood Bath

Wrath James White ……………………………………………………….. 363

Big Fat Pig

Timothy Maxon ……………………………………………………………. 372

Cognitive

Joseph Mulak ……………………………………………………………….. 379

Three Fingers, One Thumb

Steve Volk ……………………………………………………………………. 387

When Shadows Come Back

Nancy KilPatrick …………………………………………………………… 392

The Sum of a Man

David B. Silva ………………………………………………………………. 400

Remembrance

Christopher Fulbright ……………………………………………………. 414

Hannah’s Babysitting Blues

John Grover …………………………………………………………………. 417

Haunted House

Lisa Morton ………………………………………………………………… 429

Triggering

John Shirley ………………………………………………………………… 439

The Evolutionary

Tim Lebbon ………………………………………………………………… 454

That Last Day, Those Final Moments

Gary McMahon …………………………………………………………….. 478

Trapdoor

Tim Curran ………………………………………………………………….. 482

The Long Wait

Christopher Shearer ………………………………………………………492

Family Tradition

Sebaston Milam ……………………………………………………………. 516

Carl Hose online:
Website  www.carlhose.net
Facebook     https://www.facebook.com/carl.hose
Twitter    https://twitter.com/#!/Carlhose
Goodreads    http://www.goodreads.com/review/list/7449604
Follow the rest of the tour + Enter the Giveaway at this link!

6/25 Beauty and Books Spot Light

6/26 My World Interview

6/27 Sweet Southern Home Spot Light

6/27 Indiewritersreview Spot Light

6/27 Ramblings of an Amateur Writer Spot Light

6/28 Cristi’s Reviews Review

6/29 Mission to Read Spot Light

6/30 TBR REVIEW

7/2 Window on the World Spot Light

7/6 Reading, Writing, and More Spot Light

7/8 Books, Books, and More Books Spot Light

7/9 Journey with Words Review

7/10 The Book Hoard Spot Light

7/16 Reader Girls Excerpt

7/18 JeanzBookReadNReview Guest Post

7/18 Reading Between the Wines Spot Light

7/18 That Artsy Reader Girl Spot light

7/19 My Cozie Corner Review

7/21 Miraculous Spot Light

7/22 Reviews by Molly Review

7/26 Bunny reviews Review

Two-Day Blitz Blog: Back to You by Natalie-Nicole Bates

A two day blitz! I’m excited. I hope you are too. Cause today we’re featuring Back to You by Natalie-Nicole Bates!

Book Title: Back To You

Author: Natalie-Nicole Bates

Genre: Contemporary, Romance

Publisher: Bradley Publishing

Publication Date: January 30th, 2012

Ebook

Words: 26,000

“On the surface, Lynsey Reznor seems to have it all. She is beautiful, brilliant, and a successful true-crime writer who has been living the past decade in Miami. But what Lynsey lacks is what she needs the most—a family.

After the death of her mother, and yet another failed relationship, Lynsey makes an impulsive decision to return to her hometown of Unity. But Unity will present its own bittersweet memories, most notably, her first love, Nick Lincoln.

Twenty years ago, Nick broke teenager Lynsey’s heart when he decided to marry another. He had his own private reasons—reasons he never explained to Lynsey. Now she is back, along with a chance to reclaim her love. But Lynsey wants answers from him that he may never be able to give out of duty and guilt.”

Available at Barnes & Nobles || Bradley Publishing

Excerpt from Back to You

When he heard her, he came to her, took her into his arms, and kissed her. It was a comfort that he wasn’t regretting their lovemaking. She didn’t think she could handle being rejected by him twice in her lifetime.

“Do you have to leave soon?” she asked.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to, but I have to.” He went to the stove and prepared her a cup of coffee. “I think we should start planning our wedding. We could be married at Christmas.”

She was taken aback. Is this his proposal? This was supposed to be so romantic and memorable, not talk about planning a Christmas wedding while he stirred a cup of coffee.

“Do you even want to get married?” She took the coffee mug he offered. “I mean, it wasn’t that long ago that you told me you weren’t sure you ever wanted to be married again. You said you didn’t see fatherhood in your future, and Nick, I want a baby…more than one. I grew up as an only child and I was so alone. I don’t want my child to have to experience that.”

“Well, I didn’t use a condom last night. You could be pregnant right now,” was his reply.

Heaviness descended upon her heart. This was so not how she wanted this morning to be, and certainly not the marriage proposal she had dreamed of. “I’m on the Pill—I won’t get pregnant if that’s all you’re worried about.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not the only reason we should get married.”

“Then why?” she asked suspiciously.

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Lynsey, I don’t have time to get into this with you right now. What do you want me to say in the five minutes I have before I leave for work?”

She couldn’t believe his glib attitude. “How about saying something to me like…‘I love you, Lynsey, and I made a tremendous mistake by not marrying you twenty years ago?’ That would take you less than thirty seconds to say, and you could have easily gotten to your precious job on time.”

Suddenly his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t make a mistake by not marrying you twenty years ago! I let you go to become a success in life—and you did. I can’t regret that!”

“So, what I thought all these years was correct. I was nothing to you but a quick and easy way to shed your virginity.” Just saying the words was devastating.

“That’s not it at all,” he vehemently insisted. “You were always so intelligent. I mean, you were a sixteen-year-old senior in high school! Just how many grades did you skip over, anyway?”

“Two,” she answered in a low voice.

“Do you know what would have happened if I hadn’t married Kelly?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “I’ll tell you what. You and I would have been ostracized by everyone in this town! We would have had to be married right away, and we would have had to live with your mother, because I had no money.”

“My mother loved you. She would have been happy to have us live with her,” she interjected.

“And we were so naïve, Lynsey. You would have graduated high school with either a big belly, or a baby in your arms…if you had graduated at all.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts and looked at the floor. She was too afraid that if she looked at him she would break down. “Some of the girls in school were married. A few of them had babies.”

He lifted her chin and forced her to make eye contact with him. “And you were too smart to be stuck in this town, and just another housewife. You would have become bored and resentful.”

“I wouldn’t have known the difference,” she countered.

“I had serious doubts then. I still have doubts now,” he admitted.

Her dark lashes flew upward. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I believe that you will become bored and restless in Unity and will want to go back to Florida or maybe California. I have a job and a family here, Lynsey. I don’t ever want to give that up. I’m afraid that we’ll have a child, and you’ll take my baby and leave. I can not allow that to happen.”

She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Nothing was further from the truth. “Do you think I would have sunk so much of my savings into that house just to abandon it? I would never, ever do what you’re saying. But if circumstances changed, I would expect you to support what was best for our family. Couples who are committed make sacrifices for each other!”

It was becoming clearer and clearer that things were rapidly falling apart between them.

“Lynsey, didn’t what happened between us last night mean anything to you?” he asked.

She chuckled unpleasantly. “I suppose that with us living in such close proximity, last night was inevitable. But don’t worry about it happening again, Nick. When you get home this evening, I won’t be here.”

“Where are you going to be?”

She wanted to hurt Nick like she was now hurting. “I’m sure that Caleb wouldn’t mind me bunking down at his house for a week or two.”

“Over my dead body,” he seethed. “I will drag you away from him kicking and screaming if it comes to it. I’ll handcuff you to my bed if need be. Believe me, Lynsey, I’ll do it!” He flopped down into a kitchen chair and buried his face in his hands.

“I have to go now, Nick. I’m meeting your sister for breakfast. Listen to me. You need to pull yourself together. In your line of work, bad things happen when you lose your concentration.”

When he didn’t reply, she let out a sigh of resignation and headed for the door. At the last minute she turned to him. “Thanks for almost making it happen between us.”

Pick up your copy at Barnes & Nobles || Bradley Publishing

Follow the rest of the tour!

June 26th



Redheads Review It Better

Reviews By Molly

LilyElement

Nilsa’s Book Blog

Ramblings of an Amateur Writer

A Diary Of A Book Addict

Reading on the Wild Side

June 27th



Full Moon Bites

Tricia Kristufek

Heart Of A Wolf

Simply Infatuated

Amy’s Book World

The Bunnys Review

Abbey Ann’s Bookland

Novel Review: The Immortal Rules by Julie Kawaga

First off, I have to say, I wasn’t a fan of Julie Kawaga’s The Iron King (see review here). It’s odd, because my daughters love the Iron Fey series. In fact, I think we have every one of Julie Kawaga’s books. Well, it was with a bit of  apprehension I decided to pick up The Immortal Rules. I figured since it’s a vampire book and not a Fey book, we might have a bit of a chance to enjoy the work. So the blurb from Goodreads:

“In a future world, vampires reign. Humans are blood cattle. And one girl will search for the key to save humanity.”Allison Sekemoto survives in the Fringe, the outermost circle of a vampire city. By day, she and her crew scavenge for food. By night, any one of them could be eaten.

Some days, all that drives Allie is her hatred of “them.” The vampires who keep humans as blood cattle. Until the night Allie herself is attacked–and given the ultimate choice. Die…or become one of the monsters.

Faced with her own mortality, Allie becomes what she despises most. To survive, she must learn the rules of being immortal, including the most important: go long enough without human blood, and you will go mad.

Then Allie is forced to flee into the unknown, outside her city walls. There she joins a ragged band of humans who are seeking a legend–a possible cure to the disease that killed off most of humankind and created the rabids, the mindless creatures who threaten humans and vampires alike.

But it isn’t easy to pass for human. Especially not around Zeke, who might see past the monster inside her. And Allie soon must decide what–and who–is worth dying for.

This book was supplied to me by the publisher through NetGalley.

Available at The Book Depository || Barnes & Nobles

This was NOTHING like The Iron King. I read online (maybe at Ms. Kawaga’s website) she was reluctant to write a vampire book. OMG! I am SO glad she decided to take the leap.

I loved the main character, Allie. Bad ass. Yes, that’s what she was. She was the type of girl who wasn’t playing games. If she told me to get out of face for whatever reason, you better believe I’d do it, cause I’d know without a doubt, her next move would be to make me physically comply in the most unpleasant way. And the thing was, I’d deserve whatever she dished out. I love a gal who sticks to her guns!

Quite a few side characters in this book. I’m not going to go into them all, but if you were able to get over all the expendable characters in The Hunger Games, you should be fine with this book.

PLOT!!! Wonderful plot… always moving forward. I almost wonder if Julie Kawaga wrote this one by the seat of her pants. A lot of books start with an overall goal to achieve. This book sort of just moved along from incident to incident. I never really felt like there was an end goal for Allie other than to survive… and that gal was a survivor! Even though the book didn’t seem to have an ultimate goal, pretty much all the main strings were wrapped up in the end. HOWEVER, the story didn’t really end. New goals were created in the last few pages… something to look forward to in the next book.

Overall, great book. I’d say 4.5/5 stars. I’ll definitely have my eyes out for the next in this series. In fact, I enjoyed The Immortal Rules so much, I’m going to give the next book in the Iron Fey series a try.

Chasing Shadows – Making Amends (9)

Welcome to installment #9 of the Chasing Shadows – Making Amends series. For more information or to read the previous scene, head to this page.

Chapter 4
Scene 2

Mujur drew close to the human settlement and waited on the fringe… at least for now. The canopy blocked much of the fading sun, forcing the humans to improvise with lights stationed around the camp.

Bryan and Eric—the treacherous were-tigers—had brought the humans when they’d come to the rainforest searching for healing plants.

Even now, the researchers scurried about like ants, destroying this little section of the forest. They weren’t the first to invade the sanctity the lands, and Mujur doubted they’d be the last. If only they’d come and go without so much destruction.

He waited until most were busy with mundane activities then moved quickly to Bryan’s tent. Only one short man with glasses paused and took notice. Like remnants from a fading dream, the foreigner seemed familiar with his brown hair slicked back with an oily substance. The man stood frozen. Only his head rotating as he watched Mujur steal across the camp.

Mujur had long since given up subterfuge with that researcher. The little man had an uncanny ability to sense whenever Mujur was near. Despite being unnerved by the reverse stalking, Mujur couldn’t be bothered with the researcher and slipped inside Bryan’s tent.

“Long time no see.” Bryan shook out one of his uncomfortable-looking shirts then knelt in front of his cot which was piled high with clothes. “We were worried about you.”

“One of your men saw me,” Mujur said.

“So?” Bryan folded the shirt before he tugged out a pair of pants.

“I’m leaving and not sure when I’ll return.”

Bryan’s shoulder stiffened. He set the pants down and sat on the bed. “Oh?”

“That penanggalan has had too much time already to recover… wreak destruction. It’s time someone eliminated the threat.”

Bryan grabbed a knapsack from the corner and placed his folded shirt neatly inside. “Give me an hour or two, I’ll go with you.”

“And leave Berani unprotected?” Mujur frowned as his clansman smoothed out a pair of pants then rolled it before placing it in the bag.

“She has Eric.”

Mujur laughed. “The wehr-tiger in training?”

Bryan faced him. “Seems to me, he knew enough to best you.”

Mujur growled at the reminder. Fluke or not, he couldn’t deny Eric had almost killed him on the first meeting.

The bottom edge of the tent lifted, and the red head of that bothersome cat pushed inside. The rest of the body followed with tremendous strain—chest pulling, back bowing—until finally the back legs squeezed through and popped into the tent. The cat stretched with a mew then proceeded to circle Mujur’s ankles, rubbing soft fur against his bare calves.

Unperturbed, Bryan continue to stare at him, an eyebrow arching ever so slightly. “What about your territory?”

“That’s why I’m here. I want to be sure someone’s doing a circuit on it… making sure there are no gaps regarding Berani’s protec—“

The cat licked between his toes, a moist raspy sensation. Mujur grimaced and lifted his leg high. Opening the flap to the tent, he shoved the critter out with his foot.

Bryan focused on Mujur’s feet, his face crinkled in a frown

“Odd, huh?” Mujur said.

Bryan raised his eyes to meet Mujur’s. “Yeah.”

“Will you do the circuits?”

“Fine.” Bryan focused on Mujur’s shoulder.

Mujur froze when he realized his fingers were curled over the irritation, the nails slightly elongated. How long he’d been scratching, he didn’t know, but the itching sensation had returned with fierceness. He forced his hand to his side.

“How long have you had that? Maybe you should have Berani take a look,” Bryan said.

“It’s of little consequence.” What was another mark on his already scarred body?

“Here.” Bryan reached under his bed a pulled out a metal white box with red cross. He tugged on the lid until it popped open with a snap. After a bit of rooting, Bryan removed a tube out of the box, grabbed Mujur’s wrist, and plopped it in his open palm. “This might help.”

Mujur scrutinized the unfamiliar scribbles. “What is it?”

“Ointment… a salve.”

He squeezed the flexible tube. “How does it work?”

With a sigh, Bryan snatched the container and twisted the off top. “Give me your hand.”

Mujur complied.

Bryan squeezed a dot the size of a pomegranate seed into Mujur’s palm, and a eucalyptus scent filled the air. “Rub it on your shoulder.“

Familiar with eucalyptus, Mujur didn’t hesitate to follow the instructions and was immediately rewarded as the salve penetrated the rash and soothed with a cooling sensation. “You got this from a dukun?”

“A dukun? Shaman?“ Bryan smiled. ”No. Researchers like that man you saw outside work to develop these medicines.” Bryan returned the tube to Mujur. “Look. “I have to leave for the States in a week. I have business to attend.”

Mujur stared hard at Bryan. “If I’m not back by then, it means I’m dead.”

“Uh.” The smile froze on Bryan’s face before it fell completely. “Go forward with victory.”

Mujur nodded and left the tent.

The oily little researcher waited outside, keeping watch in the exact same place. The man waved, and his lips curled into a slight smile, but his narrowed eyes and low brow gave an effect which was more ominous than friendly.

Mujur did his best to put the researcher from his mind, but the penetrating stare which followed him as he retraced his steps out of the village were like a thousand worms crawling under his skin.

Ashes of Deceit Blog Tour + Giveaway

I’m feeling pretty lucky today. I haven’t been eaten by vampires. If you want to stay safe also, I suggest you check out 101 Tips for Traveling with a Vampire. Best of all Joleene Naylor is here to share some wisdom with us as she celebrates her new release!

 

The Power of the Freebie

First I would like to thank Reena for hosting me and my giveaway (see details at the end of this post) on the eighth stop of the blog tour celebrating the release of my newest book in the Amaranthine series, Ashes of Deceit. Reena is a not only a sweet heart but a wonderful author (check out her books if you haven’t before!)

Most of the stops on this tour have been geared towards readers, but today’s is more for fellow indie writers. Writers are always looking for promotion ideas. I’ve seen suggestions that range from the practical to the bizarre and back again and, while I am not a million book selling author, I am clearing a couple hundred sales a month. I’ve tried many of the suggestions – a facebook author page, twitter, blogs, blog hops, blog tours (though this is my first), free ebooks etc. etc. But the one that seems to work the best for me are my Vampire Morsels.

Since I write a series, I have a “universe” rich in side characters and bit players. The vampire morsels are short stories (between 3,000 – 5,000 words) about some of those side characters, which I then upload to Smashwords (and through them Barnes & Noble, Kobo, etc) as freebies – but not to Amazon because they don’t support free without hassle– and I’m fairly certain this is why I sell more books on Barnes and Noble than I do Amazon. In fact, I’ve gotten emails from readers stating that they read the free stories first and liked them so much that they went on to buy the novels – which aren’t free.

Why does this work better than, say, giving away book 1 in the series for free? It seems that there are different mindsets about what is worth money and what isn’t among readers who download freebies. As with any kind of marketing, different tactics work on different groups. For the sake of simplicity, I am breaking it up into three categories. (Like anything this is not written in stone and does not apply to everyone or every situation).

The Free Hoarder: I am one of these. I used to download a lot of free ebooks – in fact every free ebook someone sent me a link to – but truth is I rarely got to them (and still haven’t) because I’d usually rather read that book I paid for – after all, I wouldn’t have paid for it if I didn’t REALLY want it (yeah, I’m a cheapskate.) and now, let’s face it, with Amazon’s KDP select promo weeks, there are free, full length ebooks EVERYWHERE, not to mention those that were free to begin with. So you give away a hundred free books, but how many of those actually get read?

The Why-Should-I-Pay-if-It’s-Free?: As I mentioned above, there are a LOT of free ebooks, so even if someone reads all the free books they download, you now have to deal with “assigned worth.” Everything – housing, food, clothing, books – are only worth what someone is willing to pay, and with a glut of freebies, some readers don’t see the point in paying. “Why buy when you can have another one for free”? Sadly, it is an economically sound idea. So, unless your book REALLY strikes a chord with this reader, chances are that, even if they liked it, they will simply download another free book by another author rather than buy your other books.

The Some-Things-Are Worth-It Reader: People have long given little worth to the short story (despite the fact that it is often harder to write!) One complaint I see on reviews of paid short stories is that readers are “angry that I paid for this! It’s not even a full book!” Which means that, in these readers’ minds, a full book is worth money, but a short story isn’t. So, while they don’t want to pay for your short story (heck, you can find those on blogs nowadays!) if this reader likes the free short story, they’re more likely to buy the full length book because they believe that the full length book has a monetary value.

The question is, what group do you want to cater to? That depends on your goals. Ruth Ann Nordin made an amazing start for herself with free full length books – which later led to headaches and complications when she wanted money because she was no longer targeting the I-Want-It-Free-group – where she’d built up a huge fan base – but was suddenly targeting the I-Will-Pay-For-It group and the I-want-it-Free readers only sometimes turn into the Here’s-My-Money kind of readers.

If the short story is long enough, it will give readers a taste of your style, and if you can make it tie into your newest book, even better, but I don’t think it’s necessary. While I’ve had readers say they were “curious about the characters” and so went on to the full length books, most just say “I liked your style/sense of humor/etc.”.

That’s not to say that as a romance author you should promote your books with sci-fi stories because while they like your style, they also like the genre of short story or else they wouldn’t have read it. My Amaranthine series has sex, violence, and romance in it (heck, there’s even a bit of a murder mystery in Ashes of Deceit) and so I have tried to come up with short stories that reflect these various “topics”, if you will, because a reader who did not get what they expected is very often an unhappy reader. And unhappy readers leave unhappy reviews.

And if you get enough of those, all the free promos in the world won’t save your book.

And now for the giveaway!

(Yes, I recognize the irony of this, but I’m counting on you to be that reader who breaks out of the mold and goes on to love the rest of the series!) One lucky commenter will receive a coupon code for a free ebook from Smashwords. Since this is a series, the winner may choose which of the books they would like to receive:

Book 1: Shades of Gray - Katelina’s “friend-with-benefits” is murdered for stealing something from a coven of vampires. Hunted as an accomplice, she must rely on Jorick to survive. But what happens when her knight in shining armor turns out to be one of the monsters?

Book 2: Legacy of Ghosts – For Katelina and Jorick, peace is hard to come by. Kateesha plans to fight the same battle as Jorick’s fledgling, but a common enemy isn’t enough to overcome previous betrayals. Drawn into a deathly conflict, Jorick and Katelina must overcome old regrets, or lose their future to the ghosts of their past.

Book 3: Ties of Blood – A trip to Katelina’s home starts a chain reaction; she and Jorick meet Verchiel, a too friendly vampire, then the police arrest Jorick for kidnapping. Worse, The Guild wants to question them. Will Malick, the head of the vampires, punish them? Or will the mysterious vampire following them do the job first?

Book 4: Ashes of Deceit – Katelina and Jorick must rescue a captured vampire and discover who kidnapped him and why. The truth isn’t easy to find. As Oren’s attack on the Guild draws closer, Jorick and Katelina are led back to the Citadel. When the flames of war ignite, can they rise from the ashes, or will they be consumed?

Follow the tour for more chances to win!

(here’s the link to my blog post with the dates/links to other posts -http://joleenenaylor.wordpress.com/2012/06/07/my-first-blog-tour/ )

You can find more of Joleene Naylor and her vampires at her website: http://JoleeneNaylor.com or check out her blog at http://JoleeneNaylor.WordPress.com or her facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/joleenenaylorbooks.

Angelique Blog Tour + Giveaway

This is a unique blog tour, and I have to say, I rather like the idea. Today we’re featuring the ILLUSTRATORS of Angelique. That’s right… the artists behind the book.

Are you back, Angelique?”

He waits in his library, alone, drawing back curtains on memories of love so many years lost. Reports of dead men, bloodless, all eerily similar, tell Vincent the tale. Stalking in shadows, she seeks him.

Will she have him still?

Told first in Helen A Rosburg’s poem “Angelique,” the story of Angelique and Vincent’s undying love now comes to resplendent life in this novelette illustrated by Cherif Fortin and Lynn Sanders and offered in animated-book format. With its beautiful prose and breathtaking images, this instant classic vampire story will haunt and delight readers for eternity.

Available at iTunes

Reena Jacobs: Please share with us a bit about Angelique and how you got involved in the production.

Lynn: We had illustrated two hard bound books for Medallion Press in their Masterpiece line: “Passion’s Blood”, written by Cherif and I, and “There Be Dragon” by Heather Graham. Medallion had an innovative idea to make the most out of today’s technology, and because of our history working with them, they contacted us about illustrating interactive apps for the iPad. The idea was to make the most out of multimedia and create animated images to go along with a story. Their initial app release was “Passion’s Blood”, which was a kind of proof of concept, and the latest release is “Angelique”.

Cherif: We’ve also had the good luck to be cover artists for quite a few of Medallion’s print books. Over the years we’ve become familiar with how they operate and we have good relationships with everyone on staff. I think Medallion felt we could understand what they were trying to accomplish with this new direction.

RJ: Your artwork is beautiful. I can see why Medallion keeps returning. What is your working environment like?

Cherif: These days I work primarily digitally on computer. I recently upgraded to a 31″ Dell monitor, so life is good!

Lynn: When working digitally, I’m at my computer of course, but I do still have a north light painting studio in my home for when I’m using oils.

RJ: The age of computers. Seems even when folks do get messy, there’s the opportunity to put it in a digital format in the end. What is your process for coming up with new ideas?

Cherif: Well, for me, ideas come from everywhere: literature, art, movies, comics, video games, magazines, conversations with friends, etc. I try to stay inspired by keeping in touch with other artists online, visiting art blogs and forums, and I keep an “inspiration” folder on my pc in which I put works that for one reason or another catch my eye. It’s at well over 2 gigs in size currently, and I add to it nearly every day. If I find I’m blocked for new ideas I just rummage through that folder a little and in no time my juices start flowing.

Lynn: It’s always been easy for me to come up with ideas. They just pop into my head and are stimulated by many things.

RJ: Cherif, you sound like me. A folder full of ideas I don’t have time to complete in this lifetime. What is something you’ve learned by working with authors?

Lynn: They really care about the images that depict their thought process.

Cherif: Word choices matter. Authors struggle deeply with words to find just that perfect blend that will convey exactly the right nuance. As an artist, you have to respect the author’s work by doing your research. It’s not always possible, but if details are supplied describing the scene or character you are illustrating, then you need to get those details right in the art.

RJ: You better believe it, Lynn. If other authors are anything like me, they have concepts and images in their head but lack the artistic skills to translate them visually, but they do have words. It’s absolutely amazing when an artist can pluck one of those ideas and bring it to life… to get to the point where the author looks at the illustration and says, “Oh my gosh! That’s exactly what I imagined!” XOXOX to the visual arts peeps! Who are some artists or illustrators who’ve inspired you?

Lynn: I love the Pre-Raphelites. Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Lawrence Alma-tadema. Waterhouse. William Mortensen (gutsy illustrator hated by Ansel adams). Luis Royo. Boris Vallejo and Frank Frazetta.

Cherif: My list would take up two pages on its own, but some of my biggest influences are John Singer Sargent, John William Waterhouse, Jean Leon Gerome, Rembrandt van Rijn, JC Leyendecker, NC Wyeth, etc. More contemporary artists that I admire include Jeffrey Catherine Jones, Frank Frazetta, David Palumbo, Donato Giancola, Dan Dos Santos, Michael Komarck, and Craig Mullins (to name a few).

RJ: Can you suggest up-and-coming artists or illustrators we should check out?

Cherif: Well, I’m not sure I am knowledgeable on the latest up-and-comers in the field, but if you want to see some amazing things happening in the world of illustration, check out http://muddycolors.blogspot.com/ online. It will blow you away. Irene Gallo (art director at Tor Books) maintains a terrific blog up at http://igallo.blogspot.com/ which features many great illustrators and their work. You can also check out the website of the Society of Illustrators for info and galleries at http://www.societyillustrators.org/default.aspx

RJ: Will do. I love cooing over artwork. Any advice for illustrators?

Lynn: Practice, practice, practice. Study posing, cloth flow, short light, cropping.  And If you are photographing for an expression don’t take too long to take the picture. Your subject will freeze and you will lose the life in the face.

Cherif: Finish your paintings. Even if they end up hidden away in the dark for the rest of your life, the act of finishing forces you through the hard parts of the process and maximizes your learning. If you quit working on paintings every time the going gets tough, your toolbox gets shallow and you won’t develop confidence or the skills necessary to deliver on time. You’ll also have fewer and fewer pieces to show in your portfolio, which you need to get work.

RJ: Anything you’d like to say to your fans?

Lynn: Like Elvis said as his fans were tearing his clothes off his back.” Let them have them, they paid for them.” I don’t think I have to worry about losing my clothes (can’t speak for Cherif) but you get the idea. Thank you for your support and we really want you to enjoy our images.

Cherif: Please check out more of our work at www.cheriffortin.com, or keep in touch with us on Facebook at  http://www.facebook.com/cheriffortin and  http://www.facebook.com/saralynnsanders. Thanks for reading!

About the Illustrators!

Cherif Fortin is a freelance photographer, illustrator, and writer living in Chicago, Illinois. At one time he has worked as a professional stuntman, as a full-time firefighter, and as one of the country’s leading romance cover models. Cherif’s artwork has been featured on the covers of hundreds of books in dozens of countries, and on calendars and collectibles. He runs the successful Fortin & Sanders Studio along with partner, Lynn Sanders, producing commercial art and photography for leading clients internationally. He lives with his wife, Dawn, and their three children: Kira, Kai, and Lara.

Lynn Sanders is an artist, photographer, and writer of romance fiction and children’s books. She is co-owner of Fortin & Sanders Studio, which produces cover art for some of the top publishers in the world. Her paintings have been exhibited at Epcot Center and are owned by private collectors such as Hugh Hefner and Fabio. She has three adult children, three grandchildren, and one great-grandchild. She lives in northern Illinois with Ce Ce, her faithful Cirneco dell Etna.

Three Giveaways Ends! Did you Win?

Didn’t we just have a winner’s announcement? Why yes we did. I’m trying to stay on the ball though. We just had a few giveaways ends–last week, I think. So rather than wait until I’m overwhelmed with winners, let’s celebrate straight away, shall we?

So! What was up for grabs!?!?!

Syracuse, upstate New York. The “Salt City.” An apartment building on the edge of The Projects – and Anne Malloy dies, thrown out of a sixth floor window, an apparent suicide, while Mark Cornell watches. Mark was there for a purpose, his part-time gig being to snap incriminating photos for a divorce lawyer who happily takes cases over the phone. Watching the apartment was Mark’s assignment.

But this assignment has a problem: Mark learns that “Anne Malloy” had died months before, leaving behind a grieving husband. So who is this woman?

It’s 1976, before cellphones, internet, and all the easy ways of satisfying curiosities, so Mark Cornell’s search for a name to give the victim makes him a foot soldier slogging personally through the facts. And, as those facts pile up, Mark discovers that he really shouldn’t be playing detective, stumbling across the thin line between commerce and crime.

Available at Barnes & Nobles || The Book Depository || Amazon

And the Winner is!
Joleene Naylor

Desires Unleashed is the first novel in the riveting, highly-addictive and sexually-charged Knights of the Darkness Chronicles. Experience the heart-pounding thrill of the chase in this electrifying page-turner as you uncover the mystery behind the series of gruesome killings that have been terrorizing the citizens of Chicago.

When a grisly decapitated corpse pops up on a Chicago Street, drained of blood, the highly-trained, government-funded special police force assigned two of their best detectives to the case. S.U.I.T. Detectives Warren Davis and Matthew Eric delve deep into their investigation to discover just who or what is leaving mutilated bodies in public places. They soon realize that the killer or killers is one step ahead of them and if they are going to stop the menace before another innocent human is viciously attack, they are going to need help.

Natasha Hemingway liked her life just the way it was… normal and supernatural-free. The vampires and shape-shifters were just where she wanted them to be–far away from her. All was going well until an unfortunate accident landed her in the hospital. It was then that she discovered she had an ability that could help her save countless lives. All of a sudden, she finds herself thrust into the dangerous and alluring world of the supernatural and into the arms of two very sexy and deadly vampires.

Original, gritty and sprinkled with just the right amount of humor and wit, the Knights of the Darkness Chronicles will suck you in and take you for a ride you won’t forget. You don’t want to miss out on this amazing series.

Available at Barnes & Nobles || The Book Depository || Amazon

And the Winner is!
Daniela

Last but not least, the Mid-Month Commentator Giveaway. If you’re not familiar with how the giveaway works, refer to this link.

And the Winner is!
Mary Preston

You left so many comments this round, you have a bit of a selection to choose from. Please select a book writing by

William Todd Rose
Mary Ting
Robert Fleet
D.N. Simmons.

Winners have been emailed.

Riser Blog Tour

I totally don’t want to grow up, but am I ready for the future in Riser?!??! Welcome to the next stop on the Riser Blog Tour!

Riser is Book #1 in The Riser Saga

Black swirling holes churning madly in the center of every corpse. This is how eighteen-year-old Chelsan Derée sees the deceased. Her ability to connect to the black spinning holes allows her to control every dead thing within a four-mile radius.

But that’s the least of her problems. It’s 2320 and Chelsan Derée has to survive another year of high school, which for her is pure and utter torture, mainly due to the fact that her schoolmate Jill Forester’s favorite activity is making Chelsan’s life a living hell. If that isn’t enough, Chelsan’s impossible crush on Ryan Vaughn makes her brain do somersaults on a regular basis, especially since she is positive he doesn’t know she exists. And being eighteen Chelsan has to deal with the pressure of whether or not she should take a little pill called Age-pro, which cures aging, making the world eighteen forever and highly over-populated.

When Chelsan’s mother, Janet, is brutally killed, along with everyone else in her trailer park, Chelsan finds out that she was the intended target. Chelsan must use her power to raise and control the dead to save herself, protect her friends and take down the man responsible for murdering her mother.

Available at Barnes & Nobles || The Book Depository || Amazon

Chapter Zero

Year: 2320

Okay, let me explain. My gift, or curse (I’ll let you decide for yourself) to put it simply is I can raise the dead. I know, sounds cheesy, but fortunately, or unfortunately it’s true, and I don’t mean just people. Basically, anything that had any kind of life: plants, animals, insects, plankton, anything, I can bring back. The only catch is, they’re not really alive anymore they’re just animated, like zombies I guess, but I control them. Plants are the easiest. My mom’s garden is the prize of the trailer park, and she should take no credit whatsoever.

Animals and people are more complicated, maybe because there are so many working parts. I’m really not sure. My ability is still kind of a mystery to me. I have no clue why I have this power. It’s not like I’ve ever heard of anyone else having this particular skill either, except in books and movies. I appear to be an anomaly in this world.

I was three-years-old when I knew I saw things differently than everyone else. My pet goldfish, Larry, died and a black spinning hole appeared in the center of his body. I thought it was just about the coolest thing I had ever seen. When I told my mother about it, she gave me a look that I’ll never forget. It was a mixture of confusion and horror. She simply nodded and made me promise that I would never under any circumstances tell anyone else about what I saw. I was instantly ashamed and scared at her reaction, but something in the way that she said it made me keep my promise.

After that, I saw the black holes everywhere, from the tiniest dead insects, to the neighbor’s dog when he was hit by a hover car (don’t ask), to Ms. Thompkins when she died from a heart attack. The churning black masses had become second nature to me by then. At that point, I still didn’t know why I could see them and I was scared to death to talk to anyone about it. I kept to myself mostly, afraid I would slip and say something to a neighbor or friend.

It was a very lonely childhood.

It wasn’t until I killed my stepfather Bruce that I figured out that I could raise the dead. I never wanted to take Bruce’s life: hurt maybe, kill no. And that’s saying a lot seeing as he used to use my mom as a punching bag. He’d make me sit in the corner of our beat up trailer and watch him kick the living crap out of her. He’d laugh when I’d scream, he’d laugh when she’d scream, he’d laugh when he’d scream on the few occasions my mom fought back and actually inflicted pain on him.

Bruce was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to die, not like he did, not like how I killed him. I still can’t believe it had been eleven years since it all happened. It felt like yesterday and forever ago all at once.

It was a day like any other day, Mom did some invisible transgression to piss Bruce off and he took it as a cue for another beating. Mom was having one of her comatose days, where I could tell she was just going to take it and hope that he got bored quickly from her unresponsiveness.

Bruce slammed her against the flimsy trailer wall of the kitchen with his beefy forearm. Tiny bits of ceiling floated down like snow on his greasy balding scalp. He sneered at her with glee, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of eye contact. She just kept her eyes down, arms dropped harmlessly at her side. Bruce went on a furious rampage. He punched her, pulled her hair, kicked her stomach, tried anything to get a response out of her, but she just lay there like a rag doll on the peeling linoleum floor.

Then he wheeled around to face me.

“NO!”

Finally, a reaction from my mother. Bruce was in ecstasy. He stormed towards me like an enraged bull. I

could almost see steam coming out of his bulbous nose. Then WHACK!

I could literally feel every vertebra in my spine as all forty-five pounds of me slammed against the wall from the impact of Bruce’s fist to my stomach. My world started to spin; everything was in blurred double vision. My mother’s hysterical screams echoed in my head like a horrific nightmare. I couldn’t focus.

PUNCH!

CRACK!

I could feel my nose crunch when he hit me a second time. It felt like it was really runny, but when I tried to wipe it clean my hands came away covered in blood. The combination of Bruce’s frantic laughter and my mother’s anguished screeches made it impossible to think clearly. I think I started to whimper at this point. My ribs were so bruised it hurt to breathe let alone move my chest to have a good cry like I wanted to.

These are the moments in life where you don’t think rationally. In fact, you don’t think at all, you just let your survival instinct take over. It becomes about you or your killer.

And I was no martyr.

I tried to blink fast enough to clear my vision.

THWACK!

My right eye started to swell from Bruce’s backhand making it even more difficult to focus. At this point my mother, like a wailing Banshee, propelled herself onto Bruce’s back and started pounding her fists onto any piece of flesh she could find. I could hear Bruce’s low chuckle at my mom’s feeble attempt to stop him. From the sound of his amusement I could tell that today was the most fun he’d had in years.

Taking short controlled breaths I took this moment of solace to re-gain my bearings. And that’s when I saw it: a blurred swirling black hole in the corner of the trailer.

WHAM!

Bruce had thrown my mother clear across the room. Her body collapsed into unconsciousness as her head punched a hole through the trailer’s wall.

I screamed a horrible, terrible scream: a scream that only a child could make whose world had just been crushed, whose mommy had just been smashed against a wall, leaving her daughter alone, defenseless, a scream that would make any human who possessed an ounce of parenting instincts come running, without thinking, without thought. And I couldn’t stop. Even Bruce had to cover his ears from the onslaught of shrieking. But Bruce’s instincts weren’t to mother, they were to destroy and he started towards me.

And seeing him, fists raised, plowing forward, I suddenly felt inexplicably tied to that black swirling chasm across the room. I was a part of it. It was almost as if strings connected us together. And I did the only thing I could.

I made it attack Bruce.

At first I didn’t know what I was doing, but I suddenly understood that I physically controlled the black holes.

I was connected to them like they were an extension of my own body, like they were my own limbs.

Bruce bellowed in pain as we both realized at the same time what I had brought back to life.

A black widow spider, full of venom and ready to attack.

Over and over I made the spider tear its fangs into Bruce’s body: his neck, his arms, his legs, his chest. Bruce swatted the spider, squished the spider, tore it in two, but nothing he did could stop it.

It was mine.

It was already dead.

He couldn’t kill it again.

He fell to his knees. The poison was flowing through his body now. I could see a small black tornado forming in Bruce’s chest.

Fear overtook every fiber of my soul as I realized what I had just done, what I was still doing. I dropped my connection to the spider instantly. It fell lifeless to the floor once more, the black void churning madly in its center.

I crawled over to Bruce’s body, leaving a trail of blood from my broken nose. He was convulsing on the ground, his body seizing from the poison coursing through his veins. He was dying and there was nothing I could do about it.

“What did you do?” my mother’s voice cut through the near silent grunting and gagging of Bruce’s dying moments.

She had seen the whole thing.

“I…” I couldn’t think of what to say. My mother looked relieved, guilty and horrified all in one condemning expression. I wasn’t sure if she was upset about losing Bruce or that her seven-year-old child had just become a murderer. Bruce’s eyes rolled back in his head. His last breath was rattling and eerily hushed. It seemed to last an eternity. As if the oxygen in his lungs didn’t want to leave his body and clung to whatever life it could hold on to.

I stared into my mother’s eyes. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. A small line of blood trickled into her eye from a gash on her forehead, but she didn’t flinch. She just looked into my eyes with a blankness more terrifying than any emotion could be.

“Chelsan…” she finally croaked. Her voice was gravelly from screaming.

That was all she could say. It was agony to see her so dead in the eyes, face, body… just staring. I would have given anything I had just to stop her from looking at me with those empty eyes. Her vacant stare felt like a howl of pain so excruciating I almost covered my ears from the silence. At least then I would have been able to hear my own muffled heartbeat. Any noise would have been better than the oppressive judging stillness.

And that was when I realized what I had to do. To break her out of this coma she was encasing herself into. I turned to Bruce. To his raging black abyss spiraling like a whirlpool deep inside his chest. And I switched him on.

Just like the spider. He was a bit clumsy at first. I had to concentrate as hard as my seven-year-old brain would let me just to get him in a sitting position. But after a moment or two it became easier and easier and he began to feel like an extension of me. It was an eerie sensation as my thoughts mirrored Bruce’s movements. I would think of his arm moving and it would move. I would think of him speaking and…

“Janet?” I made Bruce call to my mother.

His voice snapped her completely out of her stupor. She watched him in shock and overwhelming relief. “Bruce?”

And then I made him cry. Cry like he never could do when he was alive. I made him cry until his face and clothes were drenched with his tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” I made him repeat over and over as he sobbed in the aftermath of the day’s destruction.

Mom crawled over to the two of us, renewed hope in her eyes. Whether she knew what I was doing or not, she didn’t say. All that mattered was that she wanted to believe it. She needed to believe it. I could see it in her face.

I made Bruce embrace the two of us with a tenderness he was never capable of before. I was doing this for me as much as for my mother at this point. Feeling his strong arms around me, holding me close, affectionate, loving. It was the first time in my life I felt like I had a father: a real dad. I nestled in closer. When my mom saw this she did the same. We both had contented expressions on our bloody bruised faces. I let Bruce sputter and jabber about how much he loved the two of us, how he would never hurt us again, how he was a changed man…

And he was.

After that day he became the best father anyone could ever ask for.

I still find it funny in a strange and disturbing way, that Bruce is a better father dead than he ever was alive.

He’s the easiest for me to control now because he was my first, and I’ve had a lot of practice since. It’s almost as if he’s really alive sometimes. But every time I watch his face go slack when he’s watching his holo-tv or he stinks so bad I have to puppeteer him in the shower, I remember.

He’s dead. Truly dead.

And it’s my fault.

About the Author

Becca C Smith received her Film degree from Full Sail University and has worked in the Film and Television industry for most of her adult life.

Becca is the author of the teen horror/sci-fi novel, Riser. She is also the co-author of the teen graphic novel Ghost Whisperer: The Haunted and also wrote and illustrated Little Family Secrets, a graphic novel based on the true story of her great aunt who was famous for murdering her husband.

She currently lives in Los Angeles, CA with her husband and two cats Jack and Duke.

Chasing Shadows – Making Amends (8)

Welcome to installment #8 of the Chasing Shadows – Making Amends series. For more information or to read the previous scene, head to this page.

Chapter 4
Scene 1

Mujur crouched on the cliff which overlooked the stream in front of Berani’s cave. The water was so clear the sandy bottom was visible even from his height, and the sunlight glistened on the surface like a thousand crystals. It had taken him weeks to find a path to the top of the cliff, but the effort was worth having a unobstructed view of the surroundings.

The entrance to the cave was well hidden in the bluff and easily missed, while the scarcity of trees meant few could approach without detection. With Berani being the sole female of their clan, Mujur welcomed any advantage to her safety.

Eventually Berani and Eric would return from their adventures or exit the cave. Either way, Mujur had plenty of time to wait for the mated pair.

A soft bump against his leg caught his attention. The cat. The reddish-brown lump of fur had hounded him almost since he’d woken in Bryan’s tent weeks ago. He shoved her away, only to have her return, cocking her head and exposing a pure white neck.

With his belly full, Mujur wanted nothing to do with the critter, and the cat seemed to know. Without fail, the miniature feline always made an appearance shortly after Mujur finished a meal, as if its sole purpose was to lurk in the background and wait for an opportune moment. One of these days, the cat would slip, mistime her approach, and then…

The cat sidled up to him and prodded Mujur’s hand with her flat head. At last, he relented and stroked the soft fur. A few seconds later, the cat rewarded him with a breathy purr.

Mujur sat, letting his legs dangle over the edge. He picked up the fur ball by the nape and rested her in his lap, stroking the feline from head to tail.

Hours later, Eric strolled along the stream, kicking water with each step, completely oblivious to being watched.

Mujur sneered. He still didn’t understand how Berani had turned the cocky human into a wehr-tiger. An even bigger affront was the dark haired fool had managed to manipulate her into choosing him over her own kind. Eric may wear a tiger’s stripes, but he’d always be human, inferior.

Eric stretched out his hand. Berani came into view and walked into his arms. She was the reason Mujur stayed, the reason he tolerated the overconfident crossbreed. He’d promise his protection—a vow he’d honor with his life if necessary… and a hope of redemption. Not even Eric could deny him that.

Eric thought he could keep everyone away. He was wrong. The smelly human knew nothing of wehr-kind. He didn’t belong here, and he didn’t deserve Berani. If not for the fact the wehr-tigress had tied her life to Eric, Mujur would eliminate the mongrel.

The filthy hybrid raked an arc of water, dousing Berani. She giggled, splashed him back, and took off running. She didn’t get far before Eric snatched her and forced his lips on hers.

Mujur jerked at the sudden shoulder pain where he’d absentmindedly scratched too hard. The persistent itch he’d woken with had worsened a little every day and drove him to distraction. He brushed his thumb over the fist-sized patch which was mottled red and rough with scabs in various states of healing. If he could just leave the wound alone perhaps it’d heal. He pressed his palm against the hot surface, finding the pressure soothing, and returned his attention to the couple.

The two lay half in the water and half on land with Eric moving beyond kissing.

While the fool played around, not even cautious enough to keep Berani from prying eyes, Mujur would do his duty and keep her safe. Unlike Eric, he wouldn’t wait for the penanggalan who’d escaped to return. He’d seek the blood sucking demon and destroy it.

Even if not for Berani he’d find it. It was personal. The abomination called, mocking him, and he would find it in time.

He left Berani and her consort. He needed to find Bryan. He didn’t have time to explain his plans to Eric. The ignorant dupe wouldn’t understand even if Mujur tried. The man spoke a completely different language. Inggeris, Bryan had said. The harsh sounds were worse than yapping dingoes.

Mujur hopped to his feet, and the cat fled with a screech. He had seen enough, more than he desired even. Berani was alive and well, despite the colossal error she’d made in choosing the human freak for a mate.

Ancient Canada Blog Tour + Giveaway

If you missed out on yesterday’s interview with Author Clinton Festa, get over there! Today he’s sharing an excerpt with us, plus giving away a copy of Ancient Canada!

Book Title: Ancient Canada

Author: Clinton Festa

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: SynergEbooks

Book Description:

“Ancient Canada is a fantasy epic and a story of mythology for an alternate Canada. Because of her unique ability to see life and death, Lavender is exiled from her home. With the help of her sister Marigold, she survives in the wild using her gift. The two encounter various characters and creatures along their journey, not all human and not all friendly. Each chapter is narrated by one of these characters or creatures, sharing their personal story as well as their encounter of the two sisters. Together the chapters link to bring Lavender and Marigold’s epic, the mythological story of Ancient Canada.”

Available at Author Website || Synergy Books || Barnes & Nobles || Amazon

Excerpt from Ancient Canada

It had happened. Simon had seen his second child.

Quietly and peacefully, she opened her eyes, quite soon after birth. Perhaps the brilliance of the sky overhead opened her eyes itself, and if so, it was our first indication that she had the ability of sight.

“I’ve never seen that color before,” said the medic.

“Nor I,” said Simon. “They are clear, not even murky, as Marigold’s when she was first born.”

“Are those truly purple eyes, or is that just an effect of the Lights?”

“No, they are genuinely purple. Or maybe a sort of violet.”

“Or maybe Lavender,” spoke Simon. Once I told him what the peddler had said earlier, about the lavender I traded from him, we agreed on her name. I did not expect the color to be her permanent shade, but to this day they are identical to when she first opened them.

About the Author

Clinton Festa, raised in Rockland County, NY, is son to two educators and grandson to four. Clinton studied animal science with the intention of pursuing a doctorate in veterinary medicine. However, after graduation Clinton began flight training and has worked in aviation for the last ten years.

Find the Author Online!

Website: http://ancientcanada.com

Giveaway Time!

As promised, Clinton Festa is offering eCopies of his book today! To enter, leave a comment along with your email.

Don’t miss the other stops on the tour!





Tour Schedule:

June 11th- Erotic Romance With a Bite…Leigh Savage (Giveaway & Author Interview)

June 12th- Amy’s Book World (Promo Post & Giveaway)

June 13th- The Book Connoisseur (Promo Post and Character Interview)

June 14th- Ramblings of an Amateur Writer (Author Interview & Promo Post)

June 15th- The Jeep Diva (Book Review & Giveaway)

June 16th- Ramblings of an Amateur Writer (Promo Post)

June 17th- The Bunnys Review (Author Interview & Giveaway)

June 18th- Tricia Kristufek (Promo Post)

June 19th- Full Moon Bites (Promo Post)

June 20th- Heart Of A Wolf (Book Review & Giveaway)

June 21st- Fangs For The Fantasy (Book Review & Giveaway)

June 22nd- The Avid Reader (Book Review & Giveaway)

June 23rd- D. VonThaer (Book Review & Giveaway)

June 24th- Simply Infatuated (Author Interview & Promo Post)