Archive for the ‘horror’ Category

Shadowdays by Polly Schattel ~ Excerpt and Giveaway

Posted: May 3, 2022 in giveaways, horror
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This is my post during the blog tour for Shadowdays by Polly Schattel. In Shadowdays a nurse with a troubled past becomes ensnared in a clash with a violent gang.

This blog tour is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours and the tour runs from 2 till 15 May. You can see the tour schedule here.

Shadowdays book cover

Shadowdays
By Polly Schattel
Genre: Psychological Horror
Age category: Adult
Release Date: 28 January 2022

Blurb:
On the dark side of town, what’s past is never really past. And what’s buried is never really dead.

Melissa Sweet is in a delicate state. She’s a clinical nurse in a small town who, after a career-ending accident and the accusations of foul play that followed, is just now starting to put her life back together. She’s got her mom, her troubled brother, and her fiancé Jack to keep her grounded, and right now she’s taking life one uneasy day at a time. But tormented by a harrowing act of violence, she makes an impulsive move that changes her life—and the lives of those she loves—forever. This unleashes a disorienting cycle of brutality and revelation as she reckons with the blood of her own past and the blood of those who transgressed against her.

And it will force Melissa to confront the fiercest, most unrelenting monster of all: herself.

Links:
– Goodreads
– Bookbub
– Amazon

Praise for Shadowdays:
“… a tale that will leave readers squirming in discomfort but unable to stop turning the pages” –Booklist.

“Shadowdays will have you walking a razor’s edge between what’s real and what’s not. Either will break your heart. Schattel teaches you the meaning of guilt, and of grief, at a pace that leaves you breathless. This is pulp horror soaked in empathy, and it will cut you.” –Sarah Read, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of The Bone Weaver’s Orchard.

“Shadowdays has a gutpunch of an ending. You’ll see it starting to move in that direction in the novel’s climax, but it will hit you like a runaway freight train when it does. As dark as this one was—perhaps because of that—Shadowdays was a lot of fun. Recommended.” –Andrew Byers, Uncanny Books

Enjoy this peek inside


The doorbell rang, and Noah lurched into the next room, and Sandra dashed after him, to
intercede in case he started making trouble for whoever was at the door. It wouldn’t be the first
time. Once two years ago Noah pitched a fit at a UPS delivery guy, had assaulted the man after
there’d been some missed or broken communication of some sort (no doubt also Noah’s
doing), and a lawsuit was threatened but never enacted, and Sandra and Melissa learned not
to trust that process anymore.
But then Melissa took a bite and her mouth was full of tuna salad and she had a moment to
think, This is way too salty I need to cut them both back. She reached across the table to pick
up the jar of salad dressing—on it was a picture of a chubby-cheeked little boy, antique and
blushing and with a cowlick not unlike Noah’s own, he was slurping a spoonful of the dressing,
with the words THE MORE YOU HAVE THE MORE YOU WANT! above him.
That’s when the noise—the sudden resounding BANG!—came from the next room.
Melissa blinked in surprise. This was no door-to-door fundraiser. “Mom?” she called thickly, her
mouth full. No answer. She reached over and got another forkful of tuna, looking at the open
doorway.
Then voices—men’s voices, angry voices, voices crowded and sloppy with rage and stress.
And her mother saying, very clearly from the next room: “What?”
A man’s voice bellowing, “Fuck offa me!”
There was the sound of a scuffle, like two boys wrestling, all slips and steps and grunts and
croaks, coming closer, and then—before Melissa could react—a group of men, three or four of
them but it was a jumble at first, a kinetic blur of form, burst into the living room pushing
Sandra and Noah ahead of them like swimmers tossed in a rough tide.
A low percussive shock rippled across Melissa before she knew why. It took her a white-hot
moment, a skip of nullity like a computer glitch, before she understood that each of the men, in
their dark intentions to come inside the house no matter what, was wearing a cheap Halloween
mask.
No fuckin’ way, her brain told her. A leering clown, a grinning dog, what must have been
intended to be an alien—it was green with big eyes anyway—and a cartoonishly freakish red-
nose, red-cheeked, half-mask which covered only the lower part of the man’s bearded face.
Oddly, frighteningly, it looked like the grotesque blush-cheeked puppets on Mr. Rogers’
Neighborhood, when she was younger those faces were so horrible to watch, and she
remembered having nightmares where they spoke to her in that spooky sniveling mewl Fred
Rogers gave them.
But she was at the table in the kitchen, and the men were in the living room, and it was as
though the air and the sound had been sucked from the room into the vacuum of space.
Abstractly, Melissa thought Is this real, am I having a dream? before she understood indeed it
was real. Two of the men held Noah by the wrists and they struggled, yelling and wrenching
and pummeling him in the living room. Melissa dumbly at the table, fork poised not twenty feet
away, if any of them turned to look they could see her sitting there, but they were busy with
Noah, who verged on becoming violently agitated, and Noah was a very big boy.
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About Author Polly Schattel:

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Polly Schattel a writer and filmmaker who has written and directed three award-winning, internationally distributed feature films. Her first novel, “The Occultists,” was published by JournalStone in 2020. She’s taught Film Directing, Screenwriting and Film Editing in the NC University system, New York City and elsewhere. Proudly and passionately transgender, she lives in the mountains of Asheville, NC with her wife and three wild, vicious animals who love people food.

Author links:
– Website
– Facebook

Giveaway

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There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of Shadowdays. 10 winners will each win an ecopy of Shadowdays by Polly Schattel.

For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

We All Fall Before The Harvest by C.M. Forest ~ Excerpt and Giveaway

Posted: April 28, 2022 in Excerpt, giveaways, horror
Tags: ,
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We All Fall Before the Harvest

by C.M. Forest

Genre: Horror

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In the guts of a nameless city, career criminal Owen fights for his sanity and his life. After stealing a morbid piece of artwork at the behest of his boss, Owen discovers the original owners of the grotesque painting are part of a twisted cult known as The Family—and they’ll stop at nothing to get it back.

The longer Owen possesses the painting, the more it warps his mind and alters the very world around him. Between those that want him dead, his own dark past, and his crumbling grip on reality, the walls are closing in. Unstable but determined, Owen is the only thing standing between our world and the coming Harvest.

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Add to Goodreads

Amazon * Timber Ghost Press

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What inspired you to write this book?

 

I fricking love cosmic horror. It’s a subgenre that I haven’t touched much upon in the past, but always wanted to. When I had some free time on the schedule for a new project, I knew it was going to be cosmic horror. That’s about all I knew at first, but it was enough.

 

What can we expect from you in the future?

 

In the very near-future (as in June!), I have novel being released through Eerie River Publishing. The book, called Infested, is a parasitic horror story, and is very near and dear to me. I’d been working on it for a long (seriously, it has been so long) time, and it’s nice to see it finally coming out.

 

Beyond that, I have another novella in the works, and a second novel that needs a final coat of paint before I can parade it out into the world.

 

Can you tell us a little bit about the characters in (Name of book)?

 

Owen? Well, Owen is a bad man. That’s not up for debate. He’s done things, awful things, that haunt him daily. He’s the kind of guy that, when you see him walking toward you, you cross the street. I’m a big fan of crime noir stories, and wanted to channel that sort of protagonist into We All Fall Before the Harvest. Somebody living in a state of constant grey.

 

What did you enjoy most about writing this book?

 

Not to sound like a psycho, but I liked the cruelty of it. The story is mean and that’s what I wanted. There’s a dangerous, nasty masculinity to the prose that adds a visceral sheen to the entire thing. I reveled in it.

 

If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?

 

I am a creature of regret in most aspects of my life. Heck, I regret eating the blueberry Pop Tarts this morning instead of the strawberry! But, in the case of this book, I really don’t have any. It was a perfect storm of creativity for me that resulted in something I’m proud of.

 

If your book was made into a film, who would you like to play the lead?

 

My knee-jerk answer to this question is a young Russell Crowe. He seems pretty shady. He’d be perfect!

 

How did you come up with name of this book?

 

I never name my stories until they are finished (or very close to being finished). The working title for this one was simply Below. Why? I can’t even remember. I think it had something to do with water. Anyway, sometime during the second draft, I started honing in on the actual title. Novellas have a certain flair with their titles, and, in that spirit, I came up with We All Fall Before the Harvest.

 

If you could spend time with a character from your book whom would it be? And what would you do during that day?

 

Yikes. I wouldn’t want to be around any of these people. They’re awful! But, if you could stomach it, spending a few hours with The Family would probably be quite educational—and terrifying.

 

Are your characters based off real people or did they all come entirely from your imagination?

 

I sometimes use real folks as inspiration for characters in my stories, but for this book, everybody sprang from my imagination.

 

Do your characters seem to hijack the story or do you feel like you have the reigns of the story?

 

I’m definitely in control. The best my characters can achieve are small acts of sabotage against me, but, like some sort of corrections officer, I always get them back in line.

 

If your book had a candle, what scent would it be?

 

Hmm, let’s say, rotting vegetation, manure, pork rinds and a subtle undertone of patchouli. Yum!

 

Fun Facts/Behind the Scenes/Did You Know?’-type tidbits about the author, the book or the writing process of the book.

 

I wrote this book super-fast (for me at least). It took little less than a month and it was initially going to be a road trip story which would have concluded for the climax in Nova Scotia.

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C.M. Forest, also known as Christian Laforet, is the author of the novel Infested, as well as the novella We All Fall Before the Harvest. A self-proclaimed horror movie expert, he spent an embarrassing amount of his youth watching scary movies. When not writing, he lives in Ontario, Canada with his wife, kids, three cats and a pandemic dog named Sully who has an ongoing love affair with a blanket.

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Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

Shifter ~ The Healer Chronicles by Michael J. Bowler

Posted: April 16, 2022 in giveaways, horror, Science Fiction, YA
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Shifter

The Healer Chronicles 
Book Two
Michael J. Bowler
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Shifter (The Healer Chronicles Book 2) by [Michael J Bowler]
 
Genre: Teen and Young Adult Horror/Science Fiction
Publisher: Michael J. Bowler, Author
Date of Publication: 4/12/2022
ISBN: 978-1-7333290-5-7
ASIN: B09R2K41L7
Word Count: 105K
Cover Artist: Streetlight Graphics
 
Tagline: Alex fears his power. Andy craves it.
 
Book Description:
 
Fifteen-year-old Alex and his learning-disabled friends barely survived the events of Spinner, but their nightmare has only just begun. 
 
Alex’s wheelchair has never stopped him from doing what he wants, but his supernatural power to heal every human ailment known to science has put him in the crosshairs of a dangerous doomsday cult that will stop at nothing to capture him and his long-lost twin, Andy, who can shift illness from one person to another. When the boys combine their “gifts,” they unleash the power to control life and death.
 
Now Alex, Andy, and the others have been kidnapped by the U.S. military. On a creepy Air Force base in the remote Nevada desert, they must decide who to trust and who to fear while uncovering secrets this base wants to hide from the world. Who is the young boy with unusual abilities who’s treated like a soldier? What is hidden in an ultra-secret hangar that no one can access? And what unnatural experiments are conducted in that closed-off laboratory? 
 
As Alex unravels these mysteries, he strives to bond with his twin, but Andy is distant and detached, trusting no one. He’s also more attracted to the dangerous power they wield than Alex would like. When misplaced faith in science ignites a hidden lust for supremacy, rescue can only come from the most unlikely source, and Alex must confront a terrible truth. 
 
The Healer Chronicles continue…
 
 
Book Trailer:  https://youtu.be/SiHwa4Ml3Ns  

 

 
Amazon      Books2Read
 
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Enjoy this peek inside:

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He studied his silent brother, staring upward as though hypnotized.

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“You okay, Andy?”

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Without dropping his gaze in the slightest, Andy said, “You dreamed about Teacher too,
didn’t you?”

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Alex flinched, his breath momentarily on hold. “Yeah.”

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Now it was Martin who looked confused. He shifted position on the chair and that’s
when Alex noticed the gun strapped to his belt. Martin studied them both in the
dark, his face hidden in shadow. “What are you guys talking about?”

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When Andy remained silent, Alex pulled his gaze from his brother’s back and faced
Martin. “A teacher we both had. She’s part of the group that’s trying to get
me. She says she’s gonna find me no matter where I go.”

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Martin’s expression turned from grim to resolute. “I’ll protect you.” He patted the gun
in its holster.

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Alex eyed his brother once more. “She…she said you belong to her, Andy.”

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Alex thought he saw his brother recoil, but the moon wasn’t completely full, so he
couldn’t be sure.

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“I won’t be in a cage ever again,” Andy said quietly, his voice almost a whisper,
as though talking to himself. “I told that to Teacher and I meant it.”

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Martin leaped to his feet, startling the boys.

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Alex whirled to face him. “What?”

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Martin threw a finger to his lips and reached down, pulling out the gun and pointing
it over Alex’s head.

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Now Alex heard it. Movement. The sound of people trying hard to be quiet, but a
slight crunch of gravel gave them away.

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Martin waved the boys behind him and darted in front, gun aimed toward the house.

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A red light rounded the corner and before Alex could even think of the red light
that had killed Juan back at the church, Martin fired his weapon. One pop,
muffled, like he had a heavy sock over the barrel. The red light spun crazily and
then toppled to the grass.

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Alex glanced at Andy with wide eyes. They’d been found!

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After that, everything happened so fast Alex could barely process it. Another figure
rounded the corner with a gun and fired. A tiny burst of light accompanied the
pop of a gunshot, and then Martin grunted, collapsing to the lawn.

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“Martin!” Andy dashed around Alex’s chair and knelt by the unmoving form of their
protector.

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More figures rounded the corner of the house and bore down on them. Alex backed up,
but suddenly Andy grasped his hand. Alex felt the rush of power surging through
him—just as it had at the church when they’d brought Roy back to life—heavy
floodwaters that meant their combined powers had been activated. He looked down
at Andy, still kneeling beside Martin’s body.

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Andy whispered, “Death, to me!”

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Alex stiffened, his vision growing dim, his mind filled with a gray nothingness that
terrified him.

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As though from miles away, he heard Andy hiss, “Death to them!”

 

 

 

About Author Michael J. Bowler:

Michael J. Bowler is an award-winning author of the five-book urban fantasy series The Lance Chronicles, the mystery-thriller The Film Milieu Series, the supernatural-sci-fi The Healer Chronicles, and several standalone books. He also writes screenplays. His horror screenplay, “Healer,” was a Semi-Finalist, and his urban fantasy script, “Like A Hero,” was a Finalist in the Shriekfest Film Festival and Screenplay Competition, and his sci-fi screenplay, “The God Machine,” was the 2017 Scriptapalozza First Place Winner.
He worked as producer, writer, and/or director on several ultra-low-budget horror films, including “Fatal Images,” “Hell Spa,” “Club Dead,” and “Things II.”
He taught high school in Hawthorne, California, both in general education and to students with learning disabilities, in subjects ranging from English and Strength Training to Algebra, Biology, and Yearbook.
He has also been a volunteer Big Brother to eight different boys with the Catholic Big Brothers Big Sisters program and a long-time volunteer within the juvenile justice system in Los Angeles.
He has been honored as Probation Volunteer of the Year, YMCA Volunteer of the Year, California Big Brother of the Year, and 2000 National Big Brother of the Year. The “National” honor allowed him and three of his Little Brothers to visit the White House and meet the president in the Oval Office. He also adopted a child in 2020.
His goal as an author is for teens to experience empowerment and hope; to see themselves in his diverse characters; to read about kids who face real-life challenges; and to see how kids like them can remain decent people in an indecent world. The most prevalent theme in his writing and his work with youth is this: as both a society, and as individuals, we’re better off when we do what’s right, rather than what’s easy.
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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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The Haunting Of Black River Forest by Jaydeep Shah

Posted: January 16, 2022 in giveaways, horror
Tags: ,
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The Haunting of Black River Forest tour banner

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Welcome to my stop during the blog tour for The Haunting of Black River Forest by Jaydeep Shah. The Haunting of Black River Forest is a horror adventure short story in which the adventurers struggle to survive on the land of a monstrous psychopath who enjoys slashing humans.

This blog tour is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours and the tour runs from 10 till 30 January. You can see the tour schedule here.

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The Haunting of Black River Forest
By Jaydeep Shah

The Haunting of Black River Forest book cover

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Genre: Horror
Age category: Adult
Release Date: 14 December 2021

Blurb:

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A forest of blood and corpses. The land of a cold-blooded psychopath.

In Black River Forest, it’s best not to wander too far off the beaten track. There’s no telling what you might find.

Mia and Oliver have long wanted to explore the forest, and one cold, rainy October day, a week before their fifth anniversary of the day they met, they finally make the trip.

But they’ve heard the rumors as well. The haunting. A psychopath hidden somewhere amidst the towering trees. Too many missing. Too few answers.

It’s only rumors, though. Stories. And stories can’t hurt you. Yet as Mia and Oliver venture deeper into the Black River Forest, they’ll soon discover that there’s more haunting this quiet woodland than hikers and bears.

The psychopath is very real. And he’s excited to meet them.

From Jaydeep Shah, author of Tribulation, the first book of the Cops Planet series, “The Haunting of Black River Forest” is a bloody, spine-chilling story best read with the lights on.

Links:
– Goodreads
– Bookbub
– Amazon
– B&N
– Kobo
– Google Play
– Apple
– All purchase options

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The Haunting of Black River Forest graphic

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About Author Jaydeep Shah:

Jaydeep Shah author picture

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Jaydeep Shah is an avid traveler and the author of gripping horror, thriller, and romance stories. As a bachelor’s degree holder in Creative Writing, he aims to entertain as many as people he can with his stories. He is best known for Tribulation, the first book in the “Cops Planet” series.

In addition to those books, The Shape-Shifting Serpents’ Choice, Jaydeep’s first young adult flash fiction written under his pen name, JD Shah, is published online by Scarlet Leaf Review in their July 2019 issue. Currently, he’s endeavoring to write a debut young adult fantasy novel while working on a sequel to his first apocalyptic thriller, Havoc.

When Shah is not writing, he reads books, tries new restaurants, and goes on adventures.

Author links:
– Website
– Facebook
– Twitter
– Instagram
– Pinterest
– Patreon
– Bookbub
– Goodreads
– Newsletter

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Giveaway

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There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of The Haunting of Black River Forest. These are the prizes you can win:
– two winners win a $50 Amazon gift card and an ecopy of The Haunting of Black River Forest through Bookfunnel (US Only)
– 18 winners win an ecopy of The Haunting of Black River Forest through Bookfunnel (INT)

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Holiday Haunting At The Biltmore by Eva Pohler

Posted: January 8, 2022 in giveaways, horror, Mystery
Tags: , ,
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A Holiday Haunting at the Biltmore
Eva Pohler
(The Mystery House Series, #8)
Publication date: January 1st 2022
Genres: Adult, Horror, Mystery

Ellen should have known that a gathering in America’s last castle would entail a few uninvited guests.

During a Christmas eve wedding at the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina, Ellen and her friends are visited by multiple ghosts. The spirits have come to tell their stories, to right the wrongs that history has done to their memories. Each of them died in Asheville with their voices stifled. One spirit is particularly adamant and threatening, despite her small size, and her mood fluctuates like the mountain winds surrounding the great estate. She claims to be the ghost of Zelda Fitzgerald, and she wants her story told, even if she has to kill to make it happen.

*Although this is book eight in The Mystery House Series, these books can be read in any order.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Chapter One: Hot Tub Musings

Ellen clung to the handrail as she eased down the steps into the hot, bubbling water. She adjusted her black one-piece bathing suit, making sure she was still covered. The aquafit class had rearranged everything.

From behind her, Sue said, “I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tanya said from where she was already resting in the tub.

Ellen sat across from her. “Speak for yourself. I could barely breathe.”

Sue followed Ellen through the water, the ruffles of her polka dotted bathing suit dancing on the surface. “I may have even died for a few minutes. I thought I saw a light at the end of a tunnel and my mother waving to me.”

“That was probably just the Nazi instructor on deck telling you to lift your knees higher,” Ellen teased.

Two other women from the aquafit class, both in their early seventies, joined Ellen and her friends.

“That instructor isn’t as good as the one on Tuesdays,” one of them, a petite woman with white hair, said. She was nearly as thin as Tanya.

The other woman, rounder than Ellen but not as round as Sue, nodded. “The one on Tuesday really works you.”

“Oh, Lord.” Sue pushed her dark brown bangs from her eyes. “Let’s not come on Tuesday.”

“We already agreed that we would,” Tanya pointed out. “At least until the wedding.”

Ellen tugged at her shoulder straps, trying to keep everything in the right place. “You can count on me. I’m determined to lose twenty pounds or die trying.”

Sue scoffed. “Well, maybe I love life more than you.”

“If that were true,” the petite woman with the white hair began, “you’d keep coming. I’ve been doing this for over thirty years. I used to be bigger than both of you combined.”

The woman pointed at Ellen and Sue. Ellen tried not to be offended. The audacity of some people, she thought.

“I’m sold!” Sue said comedically, lifting her finger high in the air. “Sign me up! Oh, that’s right. Tanya already did.”

The other women laughed, and Ellen’s mood lightened.

“Did I hear you say that you have a wedding coming up?” the rounder woman asked Tanya.

“Not my wedding,” Tanya said as her blue eyes widened. “It’s Ellen’s son. He’s getting married on Christmas eve at the Biltmore Estate.”

“Oh, how nice,” the petite woman said. “That’s the most beautiful house in the country.”

Ellen leaned against the lip of the tub and breathed in the smell of lavender and musk. “That’s what my son’s future in-laws say, too. They’ve been planning this wedding since their daughter was a baby, I think.”

“Are they from Asheville then?” the petite one asked.

“They live there,” Sue said. Then, turning to Ellen, she asked, “Is it the mother that’s related to the Vanderbilts?”

“Yes,” Ellen said.

“Which means they’re getting the works,” Sue gloated. “The entire wedding party and their guests will be staying at the Biltmore House, which is never done anymore.”

Ellen gave Sue her keep-your-mouth-shut look. Maya’s parents had asked them not to talk about the event with others. They wanted to avoid a media circus.

“How wonderful,” the petite woman said. “You sure you don’t need another grandmother to come?”

Ellen smiled but said nothing in reply.

“That sounds like a once in a lifetime experience.” The round woman climbed from the tub. “I hope you enjoy it, and have a nice weekend, ladies.”

“You, too,” Ellen said as Sue and Tanya waved.

“I should go, too,” the petite woman said. “Will I see you all on Tuesday?”

“We’ll be here.” Tanya turned to Sue. “Right?”

Sue shrugged. “We shall see.”

After the two women left, and she and her friends were alone in the hot tub, Ellen said, “Poor Lane is so stressed over this wedding.”

“I thought that was the job of the bride,” Sue said.

Tanya stood up. “It can be hard on the groom, too. Poor thing. What’s been the most stressful for him?”

Ellen sighed. “Maya’s grandparents. Both sets are still alive, and, apparently, one set can’t stand the other, and vice versa.”

Sue furrowed her brows. “Do you know why?”

“Lane doesn’t know the whole story. The grandfathers were friends long before Maya’s parents were born. According to Maya, they can be really nasty when forced to be in the same room.”

“That’s too bad,” Tanya said as she took her damp blonde hair from its ponytail, and then remade it higher on her head. “I hope they won’t ruin the wedding.”

Ellen’s stomach clenched. She wanted Lane’s wedding day to be perfect for him so that only happy memories would be made.

“I would think the setting alone would be enough to sweeten even the sourest grapes of the bunch,” Sue said reassuringly.

Ellen lifted her brows. “I hope you’re right.”

“Is it Maya’s maternal grandfather or grandmother that’s related to the Vanderbilts?” Tanya asked.

Ellen submerged to her neck. She let out a small gasp of pleasure as the hot water relaxed her muscles, tight from the workout. Then she said, “Grandmother. Melissa Dresden—used to be Brown. She’s the daughter to a cousin of George Vanderbilt, the one who made it all happen. I just read a book about it called The Last Castle by Denise Kiernan. It was interesting to read about the estate’s history. George fell in love with Asheville when he took his ailing mother there to breathe.”

“To what?” Tanya asked.

“To breathe,” Ellen repeated. “Back then, they believed fresh air was the cure for almost everything—especially tuberculosis—and Asheville had become known for its breathing porches that overlooked the beautiful Blue Ridge and Smoky Mountains.”

“George’s mother had tuberculosis?” Sue asked. “Most people didn’t survive it.”

“No, she had malaria, and she recovered from it, but not before George fell in love with the area and began buying up all the land.”

“What year was this?” Tanya asked.

“Late 1800s,” Ellen said. “According to the book, George wasn’t interested in the family business like his two older brothers, who took over various railroad companies when their father died. George was more of a scholar. He loved to read and to collect art, and he wanted something different for himself. So, he decided to outdo his siblings by building the largest private home in America.”

Sue nodded. “That he did.”

“It was more than that, though, wasn’t it?” Tanya asked. “Didn’t he build a famous dairy?”

“Yes—though now it’s a winery. He also hired the best forester and horticulturalist and created a forest preserve and foresters’ school. Later, his wife Edith, who outlived him by many years, created a school for the villagers that focused on textiles and crafts, I believe. Apparently, Edith did a lot for Asheville. I think she was the real heart of Biltmore, only because George died young. They had a daughter named Cornelia, but, according to the book, she was never as devoted to Biltmore as her mother.”

“How old was George when he died?” Sue asked.

“Early fifties, I think. Younger than us.”

“Can you believe I turn sixty next year?” Tanya asked.

“Already?” Sue covered her face with her hands. “I’m right behind you.”

“Brian’s sixty-two, and he’s fine,” Ellen pointed out. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Sue said.

“That’s too bad about Maya’s grandparents,” Tanya said. “I really hope they behave themselves at the wedding.”

“Me, too.” Ellen sighed and leaned back on the lip of the tub. “Lane says that Maya’s Vanderbilt grandmother was originally engaged to Maya’s other grandfather, and that’s why the two sets of grandparents don’t get along. One man stole the Vanderbilt bride from the other.”

“Must be hard for the grandmother who isn’t a Vanderbilt,” Sue pointed out. “She might feel like chopped liver. Don’t you think?”

“I know I would, in her situation,” Tanya said. “How selfish of her husband that he can’t let it go.”

“Lane doesn’t think that’s the whole story,” Ellen said. “I just hope they can be civil for the sake of their granddaughter.”

“And for the rest of us,” Tanya added.

Sue shrugged. “I don’t know. Drama at the Biltmore might be fun.”

“Don’t say that,” Ellen insisted. “I’m worried enough about the other encounters we may have while we’re there.”

“Did the book say the house is haunted?” Tanya asked.

“No, and when I asked the Biltmore wedding coordinator about it, she said that they weren’t allowed to discuss it.”

“It’s rumored to be.” Sue furrowed her brows again. “And if Biltmore employees have been warned against talking about it, then you know what that means.”

Tanya stretched her arms. “It’s a good thing we’re taking along some of our equipment.”

“I’m afraid not to,” Ellen said. “Ghosts have a way of finding us, and I don’t want to be caught unprepared.”

“They find us because we have the gift, and they can sense it,” Sue said.

“What do Lane and Maya think about it?” Tanya climbed up and sat on the edge of the tub with her legs in the water.

“I haven’t mentioned it to them,” Ellen admitted. “I’d like to keep any ghostly happenings away from the wedding, as much as possible.”

“Have you done any research, to learn if anyone has written about hauntings there?” Sue asked.

Ellen combed her fingers through her short, damp hair. “I’ve read about ghosts in Asheville, but very little is said about hauntings at the Biltmore. One book claimed that George Vanderbilt’s ghost is there.”

“I wonder what unfinished business a billionaire would have, that would keep him from moving on,” Tanya said.

Ellen climbed up and sat beside Tanya. “Hopefully, it’s only a rumor, and the wedding will go off without a hitch—worldly or otherwise.”

“I’m sure it will,” Tanya reassured her.

“We’ll find out in two months’ time,” Sue said. “That is, if we survive Aquafit.”

Ellen and Tanya looked at each other and grinned.

Author Eva Pohler:

After earning her Ph.D. in English and teaching writing and literature for over twenty years, Eva Pohler became a USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels in multiple genres, including mysteries, thrillers, and young adult paranormal romance based on Greek mythology. Her books have been described as “addictive” and “sure to thrill”–Kirkus Reviews.

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The Legend Of The Dogman by David C. Posthumus ~ Interview and Giveaway

Posted: January 5, 2022 in giveaways, horror, suspense, thriller
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The Legend of the Dogman

by David C. Posthumus

Genre: Horror, Thriller, Suspense

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Something dark and malevolent stalks the majestic Northwoods of Michigan, and each corpse sends a new wave of terror through the small town of LeRoy. Anthropology professor Jack Allen uncovers a pattern of strange encounters, disappearances, and unsolved murders that shake him to his core. The deeper Jack delves into the horror in the woods, the more his life falls apart around him. With his family and all of Northern Michigan hanging in the balance, Jack must find a way to stop the cycle or risk losing everything to the ultimate predator. Meet a new kind of monster in David C. Posthumus’s bone-chilling suspenseful thriller, The Legend of the Dogman!

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Get it discounted from Timber Ghost Press !

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What are your top 10 favorite books/authors?

When it comes to fiction, I love horror and action and adventure. Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Edgar Allen Poe, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Peter Benchley, Michael Crichton, etc. I read a lot of westerns growing up, like Louis L’Amour, Zane Grey, and Larry McMurtry. I love the classics too, Hesse, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Fitzgerald, Salinger, Orwell, et al. I love Ken Kesey and the whole beat and psychedelic movement. But I also read a lot of nonfiction. I’m somewhat of a history buff, and I’m endlessly fascinated by World War II and Native American history and cultures. I also love reading about classic rock bands like The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Neil Young, etc. and am really interested in religion and the occult or Western esoteric traditions. There are so many similarities when you get down to the bedrock of religious traditions around the world, and that really fascinates me.

 

What book do you think everyone should read?

Man, that’s a really tough one. The Bible? Siddhartha? The Bhagavad Gita? East of Eden? 1984? I guess my grownup self would suggest things that are quite different from my 18-year-old self.

 

How long have you been writing?

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I guess I really got going on it in first grade. I’d write books about my favorite athletes, and I’d also do these movie adaptations. Then I started writing about cops and robbers. Then I started writing my own Indiana Jones stories. Then later I started writing horror fiction. I wrote fiction from about first grade through early high school. I remember in seventh grade English class I was writing a western novel about a gunslinger based on Doc Holliday. As I’d finish each chapter, the other kids in the class would pass the manuscript around and read it, like a serial or something. That was really cool. Then in college I started writing more nonfiction, things for school, history, anthropology, etc., and I didn’t really come back to writing fiction until quite recently. I am also a songwriter and have been doing that off and on since I was in fourth or fifth grade.

 

Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write?

Both. I usually have some idea of who my characters are, but then they develop as the writing and the story progress and take on a mind of their own. They dictate a lot of the plot, and I’m always learning new things about my characters. They keep me on my toes. I uncover their true selves a little at a time, like an archaeologist excavating an ancient site or something.

 

What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book?

Usually it’s pretty minimal. I try to write about what I know and am passionate about. I do some research as I go, but usually not a whole lot up front. I start with what-if scenarios and try to let the story grow and unfold as organically as possible.

 

Do you see writing as a career?

Unfortunately, I guess not. I wish it was my career, and that’d be a dream come true, but right now it’s not paying the bills. Ha! So, I guess I see writing as a hobby, a passion, something that I love and need to do. But not a career. I feel like a career has to be a job that produces enough money for you and your family to live on, and so far writing hasn’t done that for me. But I have a deep drive and need to express myself creatively in one form or another, whether it’s music or writing or whatever. It’s very cathartic and therapeutic for me. It’s often how I work things out and feel. It’s also something I really love doing and have always loved doing, so it’s a very deep, essential part of me, very central to who I am.

 

What do you think about the current publishing market?

Well, I don’t know a whole lot about it, but it seems pretty tough. It’s kind of strange, there are so many smaller presses out there now and new ways to get your work in print, and yet it’s still extremely hard to get published (outside of self-publishing) and even harder to find an agent to represent you and help you succeed in the industry. It seems like a needle in a haystack scenario. Those agents must have very specific ideas about exactly who and what they want in their clientele. They have a lot of power as gatekeepers. I think I got really lucky finding Cody and Timber Ghost Press, and they’ve been a dream to work with.

 

Do you read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre?

Of course I read! I’ve always been an avid and voracious reader of many genres, both fiction and nonfiction. I like horror, thriller/suspense, action/adventure, sci-fi, fantasy, you name it. I also love history, anthropology, and religious studies, and I’m a real sucker for rock and roll biographies and memoirs.

 

Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise? Why?

In silence. That way I can hear my train of thought a comin’. I’ve always found it easier to tap into my subconscious in a quiet room with few distractions and the door closed. Everything just seems to flow better for me that way. It evokes (or invokes?) my muse and stimulates my creativity and imagination.

 

Do you write one book at a time or do you have several going at a time?

One at a time. Serious writing projects take over my life, so I can only handle one at a time. It’s kind of like a marriage or having a kid you have to tend to. Hahaha.

 

If you could have been the author of any book ever written, which book would you choose?

The Bible. It’s been a bestseller for quite some time now.

 

Pen or type writer or computer?

Computer. Sometimes I’ll take notes or do some outlining on a pad of paper, but when it comes time to get down to business, it’s computer all the way.

 

Tell us about a favorite character from a book.

I really like Gandalf. That guy is the shit. I wish I could do all that magical stuff like he does. Aragorn is pretty cool too. Hermann Hesse’s characters in Demian and Narcissus and Goldmund are great. I also love every character in The Losers’ Club from IT. It’s hard not to love them. They all seem very familiar, too, like they’re all based on people you know or even yourself. Robert Jordan in For Whom the Bell Tolls is also a great character. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are also wonderful.

 

What made you want to become an author and do you feel it was the right decision?

I always liked expressing myself with the written or spoken (or sung) word. So, I guess there was no decision there. It’s just a part of who I am. It’s something that I naturally do. I have no choice! I’m a prisoner to the word!

 

Advice they would give new authors?

Writing is good for the soul.

 

Describe your writing style.

It’s like how Led Zeppelin played live: tight but loose. When I’m working on a novel, I’m very disciplined about getting a set number of words down each day. But at the same time, I’m very loose or freeform, almost like stream of consciousness. I hardly ever plot things out in much detail, I unleash my subconscious mind and let it roam freely, and I let my characters dictate a lot of the story.

 

What makes a good story?

Tension, emotion, good and evil, some likeable characters and others you love to hate or are terrified of, some lofty principles or values maybe. A good story has to be able to transport you out of your mundane life or headspace and into another dimension, into the world of the story, where things are fresh and exciting and the stakes are really high.

 

What are they currently reading?

Bob Spitz’s new Led Zeppelin biography.

 

What is your writing process? For instance do you do an outline first? Do you do the chapters first? 

I usually start with a what-if scenario. I have a Google doc full of basic what-if scenarios that are the little seeds of my writing projects, like little story larvae. They’re just the weird good ideas that come to all of us randomly that we usually neglect to write down and forget. Then once I have the what-if scenario, I’ll think through a rough plot outline sometimes, and there have to be characters involved to do that, but then I just like to get going and see where the characters and story take me. I find that the best and most original plot twists come out of the blue when you least expect them when you’re fully immersed in the process and living in the world of the story. They just hit you in the shower or when you’re walking the dog, and you’re like, “YESSSSSSS! That’s perfect!” It’s really quite magical in every sense of the term.

 

What are common traps for aspiring writers?

Worrying too much about plot. Being afraid to start. Losing steam and not being able to follow through and finish. General insecurity about writing or being able to tell a good story. Second-guessing yourself.

 

What is your writing Kryptonite?

Distractions of any kind.

 

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

I guess I try to be more original, because I let the story flow and mutate on its own as much as possible. But at the same time, I think I’m still able to deliver the goods in terms of what readers want, and there are some good innovative twists on some classic horror tropes.

 

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

Try to make a career out of writing right away, in your teens or twenties. Don’t wait.

 

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

It depends on how dedicated I am to it. Sometimes two or three months to write a good first draft. Other times I start and stop and take weeks or months or even years off. Then it could take a good long while. But when I’m really in the zone and being really good and disciplined about it, it usually takes two to three months. And those tend to be the best projects.

 

Do you believe in writer’s block?

No. I have no reason to so far. *Knocks on wood*

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David C. Posthumus began his writing career at age six, when his grandfather read one of his first-grade publications and labeled him “Ernie (Hemingway) Jr.” Posthumus is a voracious reader of many genres, fiction and nonfiction, and an avid horror fan and fiction writer. He has published extensively in the fields of anthropology and Native American studies, including one published book (All My Relatives: Exploring Lakota Ontology, Belief, and Ritual, University of Nebraska Press, 2018), one book forthcoming (Lakota: Culture, History, and Modernities, University of Oklahoma Press, 2022), as well as several journal articles, book chapters, and reviews. Aside from having the perfect surname for horror, Posthumus loves dogs, the great outdoors, and is also a musician and lifelong music lover.

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Website * Facebook * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

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Will they survive….. Behind The Mask by Thomas Grant Bruso

Posted: December 15, 2021 in giveaways, horror, Paranormal or fantasy
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This post is part of a virtual book tour for Behind The Mask organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Thomas Grant Bruso will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Behind The Mask

by Thomas Grant Bruso

Synopsis

Seventeen-year-old Jesse has a babysitting gig at the Linderman’s house on Halloween. He loves watching Christie and Dylan and is thrilled to see them dressed up in cute, creative costumes. When he arrives at their house, Jesse knows it will be a fun-filled night of pumpkin carving and trick-or-treating.

But Jesse quickly realizes Halloween is not only about candy, pumpkins, and scary costumes. It’s known for tricks and ghoulish things and can bring out crazies. While trick-or-treating, he notices a strange person wearing a glow-in-the-dark mask watching him from the shadowy street.

The rest of the night turns into a cat-and-mouse game of survival. Strange things start to happen at the Linderman’s residence, setting Jesse on edge, making him apprehensive somebody might be taking the spirit of Halloween too far.

Will Jesse survive the things that go bump in the night, or will he become just another tall tale this Halloween?

Enjoy this peek inside:

I leaned my forehead against the doorframe and closed my eyes, waiting a beat. When I opened my eyes, I watched the vehicle reverse and slowly pull out into the street, braking for children running by. The headlights bounced up and down as the vehicle’s wheels rolled downhill along the raised trajectory of the driveway.

As I watched the car drive off, its red taillights blinking as if in warning, my chest tightened like a clenched fist for some indeterminate reason, and an uncomfortable heaviness settled inside me. I let the curtain fall from my slippery fingers back into position, and I leaned against the wall to catch my breath and bearings.

I climbed the stairs and relieved Christie, telling Dylan he had to dry off, dress, and get into bed. He turned on his brotherly charm and debated with me about bedtime. “Your mom and dad were strict about what time you had to be in bed,” I told him.

“Just go to bed, Dylan,” Christie yelled from her bedroom.

Dylan sat on the bathroom floor, pouting and wrapped in a towel, as I drained the tub and put away his toys. “I’ll read you a story before I turn out the light,” I said.

“Batman, please,” he begged.

“Dry off and get into your pajamas.”

He stood and stomped out of the room.

“Stop being a baby!” Christie yelled from down the hall.

“I ain’t a baby!” Dylan shot back.

“I’m not a baby,” his sister corrected him.

I stepped out into the hall to referee their sibling mudslinging. “I can skip story time,” I said to both of them. “Is that what you want?”

A unison of “Nos!” shot out into the hall from their open bedroom doors, the only unanimous decision they’d made as brother and sister that night.

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I read to Christie, who couldn’t keep her eyes open for more than five minutes. I gave Dylan a glass of water and set it on his night table. I ran my hand through his floppy brown bangs that had been spared from the vomit, and he fell fast asleep from the steady, relaxing raking gestures of my hand in his hair.

As much I enjoyed story time with the kids, I couldn’t wait to delve into my quiet corner of the house with a cup of tea. I wanted to start on my homework, especially after Dylan’s stomach-churning episode.

I pulled the comforter up around his back and reached over to shut the lamp off. I left the Godzilla nightlight lit up across the room and cracked the door open ajar. I checked on Christie one last time before heading downstairs. I poked my head into her room to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. After I’d finished reading Dr. Seuss to her, she told me that she didn’t sleep well when her parents were not home.

I told her that I’d be downstairs, and if she woke up scared to come down, I’d fix her a glass of milk. She felt safer with the door wide open, she told me. I wished her goodnight and crept downstairs to the kitchen.

I microwaved a cup of water and brewed one of Mrs. Linderman’s decaf black tea bags for five minutes while I rummaged in my bookbag for my math homework. Before sitting at the kitchen table, I plated three chocolate chip cookies from Mrs. Linderman’s fresh-baked stash.

I blew on the hot tendrils of steam wafting up from the teacup and dunked a cookie. My empty stomach growled at the aromatic chocolaty smell. I looked around the silent kitchen, chewing and dipping. Peace and quiet, finally, I thought, resting my elbows on the tabletop and sitting hunched forward under the yellow globe of light from the stained-glass ceiling lamp hanging overhead, savoring the deliciously sweet dessert.

Without Christie and Dylan talking and nagging and carrying on about something, I felt my thoughts winding down, the wheels in my mind slackening to the speed of a snail. My heightened anxieties dwindled like the setting sun. I worked on the half dozen Algebra questions for class, showing my work on separate pages in my notebook, and struggling with a few questions when a sound from outside jerked me out of my reverie.

I looked up and stared down the hall leading into the living room. Shadows danced beyond the drawn lace curtain on the front door. I thought I heard footsteps on the porch steps, but it was the wind tugging on the screen door, yanking it open, and slamming it against the side of the house.

I thought I had locked it.

About Author Thomas Grant Bruso:

Thomas Grant Bruso knew at an early age he wanted to be a writer. He has been a voracious reader of genre fiction since he was a kid.

His literary inspirations are Ray Bradbury, Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Ellen Hart, Jim Grimsley, Karin Fossum, Joyce Carol Oates, and John Connolly.

Bruso loves animals, book-reading, writing fiction, prefers Sudoku to crossword puzzles.

In another life, he was a freelance writer and wrote for magazines and newspapers. In college, he was a winner for the Hermon H. Doh Sonnet Competition. Now, he writes and publishes fiction, and reviews books for his hometown newspaper, The Press Republican.

He lives in upstate New York.

Buy Links:

Amazon

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JMS Books

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A long-lasting curse……The Infant Spirits by Janice Tremayne

Posted: November 30, 2021 in giveaways, horror, Supernatural
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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for The Infant Spirits organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Five winners will receive a digital copy of the book. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour and for more chances to win.

The Infant Spirits

by Janice Tremayne

Synopsis

When a poltergeist takes root in a hospital, can a determined ghost chaser undo a devilish long-lasting curse?

Clarisse Garcia has always fought evil. A driven spirit hunter, she demolishes demonic threats before they can corrupt the innocent. But even this hardened woman is stunned when she enters an eerie Tasmanian maternity ward filled with the anguished cries of babies’ souls.

Undeterred, Clarisse dives headfirst into helping release the spirits bound to a sinister demon. But when the foul entity targets the unborn life in her womb, she faces her toughest battle yet to save her offspring’s future.

Can this spiritual warrior protect her child and free the tormented young ghosts?

The Infant Spirits is the fourth standalone book in the blood-curdling Haunting Clarisse supernatural horror series. If you like chilling apparitions, wicked demons, and a mother fighting for her child’s very existence, then you’ll love Janice Tremayne’s bedtime nightmare.

Enjoy this peek inside:

WHAT EVIL LURKS BENEATH

Lindsay looked on as Father O’Connor tried desperately to control his emotions. He thrust the old skeleton key into the mortice lock of the basement door, fixated on one thing only—to confront his deepest fears that lived in that room. Just being in Ward C of Willow Court Asylum was enough to set off an emotional reaction—to get even with the devil in there.

“The demon knows we’re here,” Father O’Connor said. He was holding his cross in one hand and a small bottle of holy water in the other. Although he was composed, the sacred water rattled in his hand.

Lindsay looked back at him as his eyes filled with sadness for all the victims who had lost their lives to the wicked Dr. Pendergrass. “The demon mustn’t sense any fear, or it will take advantage. We come armed with God’s word, filled with the Holy Spirit. We’re strong, Father. Don’t fear the evil that has tormented us for over a century.”

Father O’Connor didn’t respond. He knew Lindsay was right, because the only way to defeat a demon was not to expose your worst fears. Demons had an uncanny way of measuring your apprehension and using it to their advantage.

Lindsay turned the key quickly until he heard the click of the mortice lock disengaging. Then he raised his foot and kicked the door open as he shone his lantern into the room.

He placed his hands over his mouth. The room smelled like it had been untouched for a hundred years; a putrid stench that was not from this time and had carried over from generations.

“Is this what spirits smell like?” Father O’Connor asked.

“It’s the signature of evil you are smelling, Father. They all have a different odor. It’s how we identify them.”

Father O’Connor sensed the evil in the air—the rotting moisture of death and the blood curdling screams of babies and their mothers who had died in this den of horrors.

“So, now you hide from us, demon? Behind the pitch-black curtains of your own hell!” Lindsay called out. “Show yourself, you scum of the Earth and murderer of mothers and children!”

About Author Janice Tremayne:

Janice Tremayne is an Amazon bestselling and award-winning ghost and supernatural writer. Janice is a finalist in the Readers’ Favorite 2020 International Book Awards in fiction-supernatural and was awarded the distinguished favorite prize for paranormal horror at the New York City Big Book Awards 2020.

She is an emerging Australian author who lives with her family in Melbourne. Her recent publications, Haunting in Hartley and Bolder Blindsided, reached number one in the Amazon kindle ranking for Occult Supernatural, Ghosts and Haunted Houses categories hot new releases and bestseller. Janice is well-versed in her cultural superstitions and how they influence daily life and customs. She has developed a passion and style for writing ghost and supernatural novels for new adult readers.

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Haunted Ends: Dead In The Water by Elizabeth Price

Posted: November 9, 2021 in Excerpt, giveaways, horror, Mystery, Paranormal or fantasy
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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Haunted Ends: Dead In The Water organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Elizabeth Price will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour and more chances to win.

Haunted Ends: Dead In The Water

by Elizabeth Price

Genre: Paranormal Mystery / Horror

Synopsis

The crew of Haunted Ends is diverted from filming their show when a cursed and extremely haunted pirate ship, the Serpents Cross, docks off the coast of San Francisco. After repeated attempts by the Coast Guard to tow the pirate ship back to the sea have left many hospitalized, they call Rocky and Sam to help. The paranormal duo must persuade the Serpents Cross’ phantom captain to leave San Francisco Bay peacefully. However, if the Captain’s requests are not satisfied, he has deadly plans for the citizens of San Francisco.

Amazon

Enjoy this peek inside:

Rocky said then tapped his phone. “Rose, would you believe I was just about to call you. Sam—“

 

He paused, listening to Rose on the phone. “The news? Yes, it’s on in the bar. I was wondering why all the residents were watching. Hold on.” He waved for Sam to follow him into the bar.

 

At the doorway of the bar, he watched one of the televisions. The news was featuring a rather peculiar ship that resembled the Flying Dutchmen.  For some unknown reason the ship had floated into San Francisco Bay.

 

Sam pointed to the television. “That’s what I wanted to call her about. I watched that ship float into the bay around sunrise. I was with Arthur when he saw it and he completely freaked out,” he said, excitement ringing in his voice.

 

“Wait,” Rocky held his hand over the phone’s receiver. “You were with Arthur? That low-unlife? Seriously, Sam, he’s a bad influence. You don’t need to be hanging around that—!”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “The point is that Arthur knew that ship. He called it the… the…” he smacked his forehead to think, “…the Serpent’s Cross. That’s it!” he exclaimed. “He took off as soon as he saw it, leaving Alexis and me behind. He looked like he had seen the devil,” he added.

 

“Alexis too?” Rocky huffed. “Come on, Sam. You’re floating with the wrong crowd. You’re going to get yourself in trouble,” he groaned.

 

Sam waved him on. “Yes, mom. I’m dead. I could hang out with Al Capone if I wanted. It’s not like I couldn’t get any deader than I already am,” he mentioned. He pointed to the television again. “How about focusing on the real problem. That ship shouldn’t be here let alone be seen by the living.”

 

“Rocky!” Rose screamed through the phone.

 

Rocky placed the phone back to his ear. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. No, it’s Sam jabbering on about this ship.”

 

“Jabbering? Do I look like a jabberer to you?” Sam asked a passing spirit. The spirit turned to him, looked him up and down, then continued into the bar to watch the television.

 

 “Sam says that a friend,” Rocky sneered in disgust, “told him that the ship’s name was the Serpent’s Cross. This friend is an old ghost, so I can only assume it’s a really old ship. What was that? Oh, is it Haunted?” He glanced at Sam, who shrugged.

 

“Skeletons were hanging out on the deck, you tell me,” Sam spoke condescendingly back.

 

 Rocky held his hand over the receiver. “Skeletons?” he asked. Sam nodded. “Yeah, we’re not sure. Assume it is. Oh, okay. We can do that. I’ll let you know what we find.” He hung up the phone.

 

“What did she say?” Sam asked.

 

“She wants us to grab Marcus and check it out,” he said, walking back to his room to grab his Haunted Ends gear, T-shirt, and baseball cap.

 

Sam followed Rocky back into the lobby. “Investigate an ancient ship filled with walking skeletons? Is she crazy?”

 

“You already know that answer,” Rocky jabbed back.

 

“Okay, okay, no, seriously, that ship has to be crawling with police and the Coast Guard. How are we going to get on board?” Sam questioned.

 

“Apparently,” Rocky glanced to his left thigh were Sam hovered, “they asked for us by name.”

 

“Of course they would.” Sam paused in the hall while Rocky went inside his room to change. His eyes grew wide and he began to nod slowly as he thought. “What could possibly go wrong talking to a ship full of skeletons?”

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Author Elizabeth Price

Elizabeth Price is best known for her Paranormal Mystery series Haunted Ends, which makes light of the dark side of death. Born in Southern California, Elizabeth has always been drawn to Science Fiction and fantasy stories. Having also lived and worked in haunted buildings for many years, she has a deep interest in the paranormal and anything that goes “BOO!” in the night – with the exception of critics that is.

 

You can connect with Elizabeth on Facebook at facebook.com/authorelizabethprice or on Twitter @Chaosonpaper. You can also visit her website, espwriter.com, to sign up for emails about new releases.

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Gateway To Dark Stars by Kate Haley ~ Excerpt and Giveaway

Posted: November 5, 2021 in Action/Adventure, giveaways, horror
Tags: , ,
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Gateway to Dark Stars

by Kate Haley

Genre: Horror, Action, Adventure

Slaying monsters. It ain’t much, but it’s honest work.

In the age of jazz and bootleg liquor, black magic is making a big comeback. Luckily, the scourge of demons and cultists are keeping Doctor Vincent Temple in business. Even the Mafia are having trouble with monsters, and they’ve hired Temple to sort it out. Cash is cash, and the old Doctor has never been one to turn his nose up at a job, no matter who’s paying. This time luck is smiling on him. The gangsters are tangling with a cult Doctor Temple has been stalking over a personal matter, but when reconnaissance turns into rescue can he save the world before things become too personal?

The Witcher meets Cthulhu in this gruesome, high-octane adventure. Snatch up your copy now and get ready to slay some demons!

Goodreads * Amazon

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He sat back slowly. Once he was comfortable on the floor he took up the vial, uncorked it, and downed the contents. He placed the drained vial back on the floor and sat with his hands empty and his eyes closed. Through his lids he could sense the flickering light of the candles as he sat and meditated. The light steadied. Vincent opened his eyes.

In this world his eyes were a swirl of darkness. It was the only way to see the things that lurked in the shadows of the Dreamland. All of eternity spun out as though he could see the galaxy. Strange horrors and creatures swirled at the edge of the void he waited in. He felt no fear. The Dreamland was a realm of shadows. It was the world that belonged to the darkness and all that lived within. From out of the void a stranger approached. Vincent wasn’t certain what they looked like. Humanoid. Shadowy. Even with the eyes of the dreamers he couldn’t focus on the man he met in the darkness. The man of many names. The stranger sat opposite Vincent and addressed him.

“Doctor Vincent Temple,” he spoke in a voice as smooth and rich as black coffee. “You have returned.”

Vincent met his gaze. “Our deal isn’t over…”

***

 

With one deft swipe of his sword he cut through the slime. It was thick and heavy like gel. The ooze coated his blade in a dull, sticky mess. Lucy fell away. She was dripping with the stuff. It weighed down her limbs and left her sticky and slow. The monster could see them now. She raised her gun to fire. The slime jammed it.

“Oh shit.” It was not the way a lady was supposed to talk, but Vincent appreciated it. It summed up the situation well. He had spent those seconds reloading his shotgun, and shaking his head against the illusions creeping at the edge of his vision. He fired. Once. Twice. Three times. The beast took the shots and rose to strike.  Its thick giant body bled and oozed, but they hadn’t even slowed it down. It bared its fangs.

Lucy screamed in fury and fear and grief. She snatched the torch from the altar and threw it with all her strength. It hit the snake full in the chest. Against its massive form it looked like a mere match. For a second nothing happened. Then flames exploded across it.

Vincent grabbed Lucy. He tackled her away from the slime trail. They hit the ground and he pinned himself protectively over her. The creature’s slime proved extremely flammable. It shrieked and writhed as every pore caught alight. The slime trail down the cave caught fire. Vincent kept Lucy down and covered. They hugged the ground, breathing shallowly as all the oxygen was sucked from the cave.

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The thugs, because no matter how they presented themselves Lucy knew they were thugs, gave polite half-nods of agreement. Ferro turned back to her. “Your father’s been a thorn in my side for years, signorina. He should have taken better care to make sure we never met.”

“She’s helping Vincent!” Tony interrupted. “She’s here because she was trying to help sort– ugh!” Tony doubled over and sank to his knees as one of the thugs punched him in the gut.

“Manners, Antony,” Ferro warned him against further interruptions. He shook his head. “My sister’s boy. You’d think she would have raised him better.” He spoke as if by way of an apology, and then shrugged away the inconvenience. A slight smile teased the corner of his thin lips as he saw the way Lucy flinched to look at the young man groaning on the ground. “Unfortunately, signorina, these docks are terribly unsafe. You’re going to have to come with us.”

“No,” Lucy tightened her grip on the rifle. “You don’t want that.”

“It’s my obligation as a gentleman to make sure you get home safely, child.”

“I don’t need help to go anywhere,” she retorted. “But you’re going to need mine. I’m the only one of us that can kill what’s sneaking up behind you.”

Ferro laughed. “Signorina, you do me a disservice if you think I’d fall for that.”

Lucy just waited. It was almost upon them now. One of Ferro’s goons screamed as he was suddenly hauled into the air. The imp that had snatched him was snarling hungrily. The gangsters turned as one with shouts of fear and alarm.

“Get it!” Ferro roared.

All of them drew their guns and fired straight into the ugly monster’s chest. It didn’t even flinch. It shrieked at them and then hauled its struggling captive closer. Lucy took aim. She wanted to prove a point, but she wasn’t going to let someone get eaten to make it. She fired. Imp brains exploded in a bloody cloud over the gangsters. They all turned to her. She stared down their wild eyes and slack jaws from behind the barrel.

***

 

Everything shifted. Beneath him, the ground cracked. It began to slide apart. He staggered up. Not fast enough. He slipped into the crack. The sole of his boot hit something hot and wet. The rocky ground rushed away from him on either side. Hot ooze pooled around his ankles. The ground looked up at him. He stood on an eyeball. Its sickly iris swiveled to find him. The rocks rushed back at alarming speed. Vincent leapt. He cleared the edge and crashed onto the rough earth. The world beneath was blinking at him. He rested on the eyelid. It moved back and forward as the veiny eyeball searched for him.

He stayed kneeling as he caught his breath. The air was like needles in his lungs. It prickled and stung like poison. The shock was getting to him more than anything. The universe of the Darkness assaulted his senses – assaulted his mind. It was impossible to stay focused. The grace of the Prince was all that saved him most visits, and this time he had no allies.

He had to do it alone. He pulled himself to his feet. He always did. The eyelid still wavered back and forth under him, but he drove himself on. The knowledge that he was alone in this world kept him strong. It kept him going. There was no one else to worry about here. There was no one else to fear for. That fear had dictated so much of his life. That fear of loss.

A ghostly silhouette waited for him in the shadows ahead. He knew what it was instantly. His thoughts had drawn it here. His fears and desires and the deepest guilt-ridden parts of his nightmares. The figure in the Darkness turned. Vincent felt his heart stop. His blood froze.

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Kate Haley is a speculative fiction author who works predominantly in fantasy and horror.

While currently content to fill her days with writing and table-top RPGs, her grander plans involve world domination. Something akin to the tyranny of the greatest city atop the Disc would be an acceptable standard. She believes a super-villainous overlord would be an upgrade, given that our current villains lack style and imagination.

After all, super-villainy requires Presentation.

If you like her references, consider reading her books. Peruse the website for short fictions and merchandise, and join the mailing list for early access and exclusive cool stuff.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Personalized signed copy of the book & an art print of the lead character by the illustrator,

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

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