Archive for the ‘fiction’ Category

Title: The Dark Horde

Author: Brewin’

The Dark Horde

Book Description from Goodreads

Part thriller, part crime-fiction, all supernatural horror, The Dark Horde tells of the return of an ancient evil that is neither stoppable nor comprehensible…

My Review

From the opening page to the horror driven end, this story had me riveted.

Howqua Hills is under siege by something. Monster, demon, alien, or creature from another dimension, who knows? They have been waiting, but no more. Out of the shadows they come, the Dark Horde.  Hungry for flesh, they thrill to feel our terror and revel in our pain. Want a taste?

“The beast had an acute sense of smell, enabling it to smell the raw terror in the sweat of its quarry. The smell of this human was strong, indulging its senses with delectable wafts. Hungry for the kill, it gripped the wooden handle of the trap door and slowly teased it open. The shrieking cry of its hinges rang out, enhancing the fear of the cornered prey…It entered, scraping its clawed feet across each wooden step with calculated intent to terrify… Two down, one to go.”

The action is intense and relentless and the creatures are absolutely terrifying. Want a bit more?

“It glared at them with red, hate-filled eyes the shape of swollen slits as its bloodied snout curled to reveal a chaotic array of sharpened teeth. It grinned.”

Able to manipulate our minds, they invade our dreams with heart-stopping nightmares. I was worried they would invade my dreams. I read this book in one sitting and finished in the wee hours. Maybe it was because I was sleep deprived, but I didn’t remember dreaming. However, there are many more nights to come.

Brewin’ is a master at making you afraid of the dark. I suggest you sleep with a flashlight!

Here is the Unpublished Prologue

I was once an avid believer in many things… I believed in love, in compassion, in hope. I even believed in a God watching lovingly over us and that somewhere within the mystery of it all, there was a special place for us. This inclination towards a blind faith was strong in me, stamped upon my DNA and cultivated through my upbringing. I was sheltered from the brutal reality of this world, hidden from the horrible truths of our existence.

It is your choice to hear these words, but be warned, once you understand what they mean you will never be able to hide in the warm comfort of ignorance again.

Unless you’re prepared for this, it’s best you stop now. Time is short now, I sense them drawing close. Whilst blood flows through these shaking hands, I will tell you of them, in the hope that someone hears these words and know of what is inevitably to come.

I know not how to stop the Dark Horde, or how to stop the events I have set into motion. But I doubt it makes any difference, as mankind is doomed anyway.

It wasn’t always like this. Once I enjoyed a happy life too. Once I had  a life. my early childhood to the outsider seemed like any other. A child full of energy and confidence, and the world around me was of wonder. Then, when I was seven, came the visions. They were infrequent at first, like intermittent thunder before the storm, but by the time I was eight they were coming to me not only every night, but every hour of every waking day. Every child fears the dark, but who’s to believe that a child’s nightmares could possibly be real?

I was trapped alone in a world of nightmares, under constant assault from a force no one could see or believe. With time the cancerous visions only grew stronger and my parents grew ever more frantic in their attempts to find a cure. After numerous doctors and counselors, my parents finally found a psychiatrist to their liking. I was not yet ten when he gave his damning assessment; “Your son is suffering from temporary psychosis of a type that is treatable and not uncommon in boys his age. Nightmares and the fear of the dark occur in most children and have been known to be so intense that it results in delusions and even hallucinations. it is merely a product of the hormonal imbalance of puberty, of an over-active imagination…But he will be cured and in years to come he’ll look back at these days with humor and think how silly he’d been! Fear not, this psychosis will come to pass.”

I was to receive therapy and medication, and for a few mostly happy years, the treatment seemed successful. but always below the surface, dark forces gathered, revealing themselves in occasional “fits of madness”. My doctor was intrigued by this and sought to uncover what was best left alone. He put me under hypnosis, an event that was to forever alter my life. I was only thirteen. The hypnosis swept aside the clouds of consciousness, revealing my past in all its horror. I saw my previous life and the terrible deeds I had done. I realised then that the visions keep returning to haunt me because they are my past. In some archaic time I had brought them into this world, though what they were, I did not know. I only knew that they were alien to this world and meant only to destroy it…And I. in some “fit of madness”, had let them in.

I became resigned to the power of the visions, recognising my place in the scheme of things and realising the futility of it all. With time, I learned to hide the visions effects and ceased to even tell others of their existence. By the age of sixteen, I was deemed cured and ready to join the “real world”…But I had merely learned to wear the mask of sanity. Sometimes, however, the mask slipped…And deeds of darkness came to light.

I would wake alone in a dark forest, shivering. Then I’d realize…I dreamt this. Somehow I had sleepwalked into the forest at night, the black shapes of swaying trees crowded around me and the wind taunted in strange voices. Then I’d notice the candle-lit inscriptions in the dirt before me…If what I just dreamt was real, then I knew we were in great danger. Screaming, I’d run through moonless undergrowth until I found a road I could follow home, or someone found me, bruised and feverish, the next day.

My fate was inevitable. I was doomed to repeat history.

Neither drugs nor therapy would stop my sleepwalking and before long I was sleeping in restraints. At seventeen I left school and moved with my parents from Howqua Hills to far away Melbourne. With the move, my sleepwalking tendencies ended and I was able to begin a new life among strangers who did not know my past, nor care. They teased me for my country background, but accepted me as normal, as someone who was dependable. But never did the visions relent on my tortured mind, ever reminding me of who I was and who I was destined to be.

It is now five years later and things are no different. destiny is cruel when you are its slave. There is no privilege in this, no fortune in being chosen, there is only eternal damnation. but I cannot be held responsible for something that started and was predetermined before i was even born. And if I wasn’t their channel, it inevitably would have been another, if it wasn’t my past life, it inevitably would have been someone elses.

it is utterly useless to try to stop them. Their age is limitless, as is their knowledge and power. We are to them as ants on the Earth. An organized society that adapts and multiplies, but does not know of the world around it. We are not the most advanced creature in the universe, even on our own planet. Nor are we blessed in any way. Just as many other species of life succumbed to our dominance, so shall we succumb to others.

And now as I sit here making this recording of my final words; i know that i can restrain them no longer. Consciousness is fading, the lights grow dim and my voice faint. they are close now.

Calling…Calling…Calling…

“…..Come Dark Horde, remember, and once more be!

We are as one, as many are we,

Become one, once more be.

We are as one, as many are we,

Become one, once more be…”

After many hours of semiconscious chanting, I was startled awake by a sharp crack in front of me. Before me stretched a black void with depths beyond comprehension. A nauseating stench fell over me and I saw that within the nebulous darkness was a pair of eyes: red convex slits. They were a short distance away and staring directly at me, my mind naked before their gaze…

My God, what had I done?

About Brewin’

Brewin’ knew he wanted to be a writer when he was only seven and that has shaped his life. A gift from his brothers of a Role Playing Game Book was a pivotal moment in his life. Game books(along with role-playing games) made him the writer he is today. The last third of his first published novel, Evermore: An Introduction, is a choose-your-own-adventure and his second novel, The Dark Horde, has one of the characters from Evermore in it. For more about Brewin’ and his work visit:

http://www.thebrewin.com

Title: Dark Passage “Chosen” 

Author: M.L. Woolley 

Every now and then I read a book that catches me by surprise. Expecting a haunted house story, I instead discovered a tale about the human struggle to find our place in this world. This story is told from multiple points of view which made it fun and easy to understand.

The story centers around an old Victorian house in Olalla, on the Dark Passage of the Puget Sound.

Bill has come to Olalla looking for inspiration about a book. He is drawn to an estate sale at an old house and for reasons unknown to him he feels compelled to buy it. It has a sense of familiarity to him. Before he can complete renovations he has an accident which puts him in a coma.  While unconcious, he sees a woman in a tunnel beckoning him.

Desperate  to escape the frequent, violent attacks of her abusive husband, Jen accepts an offer from her friend Peter to rent an old house. The strange man from her dreams, the one she loves in this other reality, has given her the confidence to leave her abusive relationship and take her life back. She senses something special about the house, something otherwordly, but is unsure if it is evil or good. There is something or someone watching her.

Strange forces have drawn Bill and Jen together through their dreams. They will need each other as they slowly come to understand what the house is and where their place is in the coming events.

There are many characters that have important roles in this story of darkness and light.

Bill’s cousin Lisa has been corrupted by something evil and commits unspeakable acts in her hunger for fortune. You will loathe her.

David is ensnared by Lisa’s manipulations and blindly follows her wishes, ignoring an inner voice that warns him not to.

Jen’s best friend Ivy gets drawn into the mystery of the house and discovers she has a very important part to play in the times ahead. She really endeared herself to me. the guilt she has carried around for years over the death of her brother and sister has led her to pick all the wrong men.

Peter has been friends with Bill since childhood and is his guardian in more ways than one while he lies in a coma. He begins to receive messages from Bill, but that is impossible. Bill is still in a coma.

John’s life spins out of control after Jen leaves him and, in his madness, dark forces control him for their own purposes.

I could write so much more about this book but then I would be telling too much. Now that the stage has been set and I have come to know the characters, I am ready to dive into the Guardians, the second book. Due to be released soon, you can read a little bit about it at the end of Dark Passages.

I am now hooked and the author has reeled me in.

A resounding 5 Stars for Dark Passages.

Title: Wanted: Dead or Undead (The Zombie West Series, Book 1)

Author: Angela Scott

Published by: Evolved Publishing

WANTED: Dead or Undead (The Zombie West Series, #1)

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I received this ARC from the author in exchange for my review.

Wanted: Dead or Undead. I have to admit I started reading this expecting a zombie western with lots of eating and being eaten along with some humor. What I got was so much more.

The story starts with a nail-biting scene that leaves you with no choice but to continue reading.

Trace is an opportunist, a card shark, and a bit of a trickster. All he wants is to stroll through life with no complications. That wasn’t hard until the zombies started moving westward.

Red is a no-nonsense woman on a mission.  Traveling west towards California, she is hoping to find her brother. He joined the cavalry to fight the zombies and she hasn’t heard from him since.

The zombie plague has consumed the larger cities on either coast and is rapidly extending to the midwest.

Thrown together by a chance encounter, Trace and Red slowly begin to trust each other. They will have to in order to survive. As they travel westward their group of two slowly grows along with their attraction for each other. They both have secrets kept to themselves for fear they will shatter the tenuous bond growing between them.

Angela Scott takes her time developing the characters and establishing her story, weaving in new characters along with their stories and building genuine relationships. The scenes were so well written I could swear I was there. I shuddered in horror, feared the worst, and sighed in delight.

The cliff-hanger ending left my jaw dropping in surprise, already anticipating more. This ending is very satisfying and one of the best I have read.

I gave this book 5 stars and recommend it to anyone looking for a great read and a new series.

I will be watching for Survivor Roundup (The Zombie West Series, Book 2)

~~~

Angela Scott

deadplains angela scott

I hear voices. Tiny fictional people sit on my shoulders and whisper their stories in my ear. Instead of medicating myself, I decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. I’m not crazy. I’m an author. For the most part, I write contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, I found myself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West—and loving it. My zombies don’t sparkle, and they definitely don’t cuddle. At least, I wouldn’t suggest it. I live on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. I graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of my love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn’t require math. I can’t spell, and grammar is my arch nemesis. But they gave me the degree, and there are no take backs. As a child, I never sucked on a pacifier; I chewed on a pencil. I’ve been writing that long. It has only been the past few years that I’ve pursued it professionally, forged relationships with other like-minded individuals, and determined to make a career out of it. You can subscribe and follow me on my website, where I blog obsessively about my writing process and post updates on my current works. I’m also on Twitter and Facebook, but be forewarned, I tweet and post more than a normal person.