Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Fans of 'Once Upon a Time' check out 'Dream Killers' by S.M. Blooding


DK S1 CoversBlurb:

The Sea of Dreams spat me out with no memories, no idea of who I was or what my purpose might be. When Captain Bo, dream killer extraordinaire, arrived, I took a chance to explore. On the road of discovery, I tripped upon dreamplanes floating dead in a graveyard, scared children attempting to survive their dreams turned nightmare, strange guardians, rogue Dreamlanders, and ships with hearts of silver. I learned more about Dreamland than I ever thought possible. But people are dying. They're disappearing. Dreamland is twisting, shifting, ripping. I don't know how best to help, how to save those I've met, who have wormed their way into my heart. If only I knew who I was, what I'd been born to do. Then I found out. I know who I am. I wish I didn't. Dream Killers is geared for fans of Once Upon a Time. The first season (Spring 2014) consists of 3 novellas called episodes. It follows River as he discovers who he is and his role in Dreamland. Dream Killers is to Dreamland Stories what Agents of Shield is to the Marvel movies. Dreamland is an intense, rich, fascinating world with lots going on. If you like fairy tales, are looking for something new,try this one.

Read an excerpt:
Travelers are many things. Friendly to perfect strangers? Not really.

Captain Bo stood on the shore looking between me, Mech and Rulak.

A crowd gathered around us.

“Who is with this one?” Mam Dika demanded, pushing her way to the front. “Do we has more what comes from the water? Is it with the sprouting of fish?”

The captain frowned and pulled back, holding up a finger. “Give me a minute while I translate that. Wait, wait.”

I chuckled. I couldn’t help it. It had taken me nearly a year to understand what anyone said in the caravan, and sometimes I still struggled with it, especially when they got upset.

“Ah, right. No, ma’am. We are not fish. I am the captain of Night’s Cruelty.”

“There is no night here,” I said.

He scrutinized me out of the corner of his eye. “Isn’t the name of my vessel just, then?”

Mech pushed past me. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, a red man, quite literally. I like it.” He waved a hand. “I followed a distress signal. I believe we’ve already gone over this once. Weren’t you here for that part of the conversation? I’m quite certain you were.”

Mech raised his broad chin.

Rulak put his hand on the basher’s shoulder and dragged him back. “So what kinds of monsters do you be?”

Captain Bo brought his head forward. “What kind of creature are you that you can’t talk straight? I’ve seen purple people, red people—” He gestured to Mech. “—shallow people, full people, small people, tall people, and I’ve even met a few I wouldn’t call people. But they all know how to speak in a manner others can understand.”

Mam Dika hunched her shoulders, her face screwed up. “Who’s with the telling we can’t speak? Maybe it be’s with the you who can’t speak.”

“My Di-boo, no.” Rulak touched her arm.

She straightened and rejoined her family.

Rulak rounded on the captain. “We’s simply be with the knowing of what you is. If you has none with the answers, then you can be away.”

Captain Bo swung toward the sea, his mouth open, one hand raised. He turned back with a thick frown.

“Do you have something that needs power?”

The people of the caravan murmured to one another.

The main reason the entire troop had come to the gathering was because our shield generator was down. We needed as many people as we could to protect the wagons.
Sure. You could ask, “From what?” I would remind you we’re in the land of dreams, not candy and butterflies.

The captain’s expression opened. “Ah, right then. That’s the reason we’re here. We have power. Just show us where you need it, and we’ll transfer it.”

“We has no means to pay.” Rulak straightened, squaring his shoulders.

Captain Bo laughed. “This is Dreamland, good sir. Who pays for anything? Like I said, if you has—have. Look at you. You’re rubbing off on me already—real food and possibly drink, we’d be more than happy to exchange one meal for power.”

Rulak narrowed his eyes.

I caught his gaze and opened my hands, my eyebrows lodged in my shaggy hairline. I sucked in my lips and bit down on them, jerking my head in the captain’s direction.

The caravan leader growled low and turned, parting the crowd to get to the gathered wagons.

Captain Bo rubbed his temple and then flicked his fingers. “Is that a yes, then?”

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Meet the Author:

SM “Frankie” Blooding lives in Colorado with her pet rock, Rockie, and Jack the Bird. Jack has refused to let her to take up the piano again, but is warming to the guitar. It might help that Frankie has learned more than two strings. She’s added a few more Arabic words to her vocabulary, but don’t invite her into conversation yet—unless, of course, you’re willing to have a very . . . slow . . . conversation. She’s dated vampires, werewolves, sorcerers, weapons smugglers and US Government assassins. Yes. She has stories. She’s also an investigator with a local paranormal investigation group, Colorado Paranormal Rescue!

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