Today I have the honor of introducing to you the author Ross Victory and his horror/sci-fi novel Grandpa's Cabin. Not only are you getting an excerpt, but also an interview with the character of Magenta Kim! I love character interviews! Please enjoy and download your own copy of the book before following the rest of the tour. Best of luck in the giveaway!
Please welcome author Kevin R. Doyle back to the blog as he brings us an exclusive excerpt from The Litter. Get more as you follow the tour! Be sure to leave your thoughts along the way. Best of luck entering the giveaway!
I just realized it's been a while since we've had a good horror book featured here! So please welcome back author Kevin R. Doyle and enjoy this excerpt from The Litter! And then follow the tour for more. Best of luck entering the giveaway!
Read an excerpt:
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Pam said.
“Still think it was a dog?” her partner asked.
“What else could it have been? It doesn’t take the ME over there to know that this guy’s been all chewed up.”
“What I’m getting at is it may not have been a single animal.”
“Come again? Are you thinking of a pack or something?”
“Well,” Gonzales said, “just looking at it . . .” He waved his arm in the direction of the mess on the pavement.
“That’s insane, Enrico. Who the hell ever heard of a pack of dogs attacking people in the middle of a city?”
“You ever hear of one dog doing anything that even remotely looks like that?”
“What about rats?” she asked the older cop, fearful he would laugh in her face.
“I actually thought of that myself for a moment there. It’s not the most far-fetched of possibilities.”
“No?”
“Not at all. Once, I saw what was left of an old wino eaten by rats, back when I’d been on the force not much longer than you have. But that was a guy who’d crawled under the porch of a house, probably trying to escape the weather. Besides, long ago as it’s been, from what I remember, that body didn’t look anything like this.”
“No, huh?”
“Not really, no. It looked more like he’d been nibbled on till he was worn down to practically nothing.”
Pam pointed towards the corpse.
“That’s not a bunch of nibbles,” she said.
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Excerpt :
Wax-face seemed to notice Isaac for the first time, widening his eyes - which Isaac saw were gray with cataracts, streaked with red - and leering at the librarian with a predatory fascination. His jaw slowly fell open, a stream of blood flowing down his chin to the floor.
Isaac attempted to flee, but his feet were giving his brain the silent treatment. The best he got out of himself was turning his head to look over his shoulder. Two more lumbering, waxy, blood-dripping freaks limped out from behind bookshelves and toward Isaac.Our hero would claim for most of his life beyond this event that the sound he emitted was a leonine roar as he suddenly found the courage to fight his attackers off and escape.
However, he knew completely well that the noise which escaped his lungs was a high-pitched, birdlike screech as he attempted to mediate a debate between Panic and Rage over the course of a second or two;
Oh fuck, zombies.
Don’t be ridiculous.
Find a weapon!
You don’t even know how to use any.
Find one anyway!
It’s a library, are we going to papercut them back to death?
Do we think this is the zombie apocalypse?
I feel like we’re wasting a lot of time here.
Panic ceased its babbling and made a noise not unlike a police siren. Rage decided now was as good a time as any to hop on a dream-bus and see the world before the useless skin-sack they inhabited got himself killed, offering Isaac no more survival pointers.
Isaac jerked back around to face the original zombie (a word he was still hesitant to use but had now become the only discernible thought he could latch onto).
The monster had completed its examination, raised its raspy wheeze to a blood-curdling shriek, and made a mad dash for its prey, blood flying every which way from his gaping mouth. Isaac could hear the two behind him do the same.
Well, there you go you useless lump, you went and got us killed.
It’s not his fault, there was nothing in orientation about an after-hours zombie attack.
The argument in Isaac’s head descended into a cacophonic volley of insults, mocking tones, and detailed instructions for the other to misbehave with a tree.Isaac reminded his debating thoughts that they were all part of the same person, so tree sap on one’s privates is tree sap on the others. Also, he added that the zombies may have been close enough that he could smell iron on their breath, but the well-dressed gentleman with silver hair in the doorway seemed calm and ready to help. By all laws of logic and probability he was aware of, Isaac would be dead in three and a half seconds anyway, so no need for extra stress.
Panic and Rage stared out through Isaac’s eyes. They agreed that there was indeed a rather pale man with silver hair and an incongruously cheerful smirk standing at the fair end of the room, absent the blurry gray doppelganger Isaac normally saw with people and seeming to emit a faint glow. He was dressed in a white suit with vague green specks all over it, with a feathery gold and silver cape to go with it.
Whoever he was, he seemed more-or-less qualified to handle such an unexpected threat.
The new arrival was pointing the palm of his left hand at the scene, his thumb extended at a right angle. He twitched his hand down at the wrist and every molecule in the room sang out in unison, connected by static electricity.
“Dí’prætä.”
A razor-thin hemisphere of light erupted in a three-foot radius around Isaac. The zombies, all of whom had just taken a flying leap for his neck, landed on the bubble and bounced off.
They each landed on their backsides with a dull thud, totally incapable of processing this development. They caught the pale man’s scent and turned on him, assuming he would make a decent meal as well.
The suited man shut his eyes and delicately pressed his fingertips together, then his palms before he turned them toward the zombies. He intoned a series of syllables in a steady waltzing rhythm, continuing to use the molecular structure of the library as a network of loudspeakers.
“Tä’gläcí äy æ’chévän.”
They all froze, and a few of Isaac’s rapid heartbeats later the monsters disappeared into thin air. As they went, the electric buzz throughout the area died down until it vanished entirely, along with the bubble around Isaac.
Without a word, the new arrival sniffed the air like a bloodhound while wandering toward Isaac. He stopped every few steps and screwed up his face in concentration. He finally followed his nose to Isaac and began sniffing the young man’s scalp, seeming to not notice there was a person under the hair. He jumped back in surprise when he finally did.
“Oh, I am so sorry! I did not realize that you were a person.” The new man said with a grin and an accent with traces from most of Western Europe. His voice, though still bouncy and full of life, had lost the musical quality it had when the entire building spoke for him.
“Who are you?” The stranger asked.
Isaac stared at him without blinking, “Uh…Buh” floating through his mind again. He waded through a mess of scattered vocabulary to find a coherent response until he finally landed on, “I-Isaac Falc-cone.”
The activation of the various anatomical components required for speech set off a domino effect which rattled every other bit of their host, who began to shake violently as tears once again fell down his face.
The newcomer twitched slightly. “Just a fair warning, Uh-Buh, you ought to take care not to give away so much of your name to strangers. I mean you no harm, but many entities may take it as an invitation.”
“Inv… Wha…” Isaac stammered.
The man with the silver hair smiled, grabbed Isaac’s wrist, and helped him to his feet. He swept some loose zombie dust from Isaac’s clothes, looked him in the eye, and spoke with extraordinary calm. Isaac couldn’t decide if he was comforted by or terrified of the stranger.
“Unimportant. Uh-Buh I-Isaac Falc-Cone, nice to meet you,” The visitor said, still holding on to Isaac’s wrist. “You may call me L’æon. Næ’vös shívæ!”
Author Zach Adams has had a passion for writing
and storytelling his entire life. However, he didn’t decide to pursue it as a
profession until he realized that working in retail was completely draining his
remaining life force. And so, Adams set out to create a fascinating and
captivating novel, which he achieved in his debut work, “Dead Man Walking”.
Having a general distaste for his current reality, Zach aspires to escape into
the science fiction and fantasy worlds that he creates. And by doing so, he
aims to share this escapism with his readers (who are probably also incredibly
tired of the current state of things).
Zach was raised by an anthropomorphic ostrich, and is a seasoned time traveler.
Coincidentally, he also enjoys making up utter nonsense about himself.
Currently, Adams lives in Alaska with his cat Gamora (who he does not plan to
sacrifice on Vormir).
https://www.adamsvalentine.com/
https://www.facebook.com/VadamsAlentine
Tour Giveaway
5 winners of an ecopy of “Dead Man Walking”
will be chosen randomly from those who join the mailing list
during the tour time frame
Genre: YA, Horror, Paranormal
Release Date: Feb. 14, 2021
Buy Links:
Shirley lives in New Jersey and works in the entertainment industry in New York
City.
In the immortal words of Mark Twain: “Life is short, Break the Rules. Forgive
quickly, Kiss SLOWLY. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably and never regret
ANYTHING That makes you smile.”
Author Links:
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8424872.Shirley_Anne_Edwards
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ShirlAwriter
Website: https://shirlwriteredwards.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shirleyanneedwards/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shirleyanneedwards/
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/ShirleyAnneEdwards
This tour created by YA Bound Book Tours
The calendar may say that it is December, which elicits thoughts of warm and cozy holiday stories. But this dark and dank weather is keeping me in the mood for something a little more sinister. Check out an excerpt from Haunting in Old Tailem by Janice Tremayne and then follow the tour for even more! Best of luck entering the giveaway!
Read an excerpt:
As he got closer to the shrub, in the direction of the voice, a Raggedy Ann doll ducked its head out of the bush and bounced about, trying to get his attention. It looked like an old-style doll and something his grandparents would have played with as children. It had curly red hair, blue trousers, and a big, greedy smile.
A puppet show, he thought.
Archie wanted to touch the doll. It was so lifelike that it had him mesmerized, like a spell had been cast on him. He walked another foot to get a better look, more curious.
“Psst, psst … Want to play with me?” asked the Raggedy Ann. It was alive! Its mouth moved in a synchronized motion, but there was no ventriloquist behind it.
When Archie was at arm’s length from the doll, something grabbed his ankles and started to drag him. It pierced into his skin like long nails, penetrating and scratching. He screamed and kicked as panic set in, fighting back with all his might.
“Cecilia! Cecelia! Help me! Help me!” Archie yelled toward the other children where his sister looked on in horror. His waved his hands while being dragged facedown, scraping the soil and trying to grab onto anything he could.
With one hand on each ankle, the evil beneath the shrub latched onto him with painted black fingernails on white hands that looked dead as they continued to clutch onto him and pull him.
Archie managed to grab ahold of a log with both arms curled around it, holding as tightly as he could, like his life depended on it, which it did.
The third escalator is the longest, looking like a black cut has opened in the earth before me. Carefully and quickly, I bound down the steps.
Halfway down, Benny starts laughing over the speakers with a mechanical, staticky roar. His voice mingles with what sounds like a man whistling. The steps shake beneath me as the escalator jolts downward, twisting me off balance. The dolly flies from my hands, tumbling end over end down the moving steps. My arms reach out wildly for purchase, and I grab one of the rubber handrails, slowing my fall, but not stopping it.
I land on my back, upside down with the wind knocked out of me. I try to ignore the stabbing pain from the steps while Benny interviews Flora Fox about her upcoming movie over the loudspeakers.
The voices are shrill and the pain rings in my ears so loudly that I don’t realize there’s a humming sound coming from the bottom of the escalator.
The dolly lies at the edge of the disappearing final steps, tumbled and with a gouge in one of its wheels and a yellow sticker I’ve never noticed on the bottom of its scoop. In front of the dolly, I’m staring straight at the escalator’s base with welcoming spikes ready to swallow my hat, my scalp, and my face. I can picture the flesh being peeled from my bones. I try to claw my way out of my sprawl, but my hands are slick from sweat and rain. My fingers can’t find anything to grip on the polished escalator sides. The motor is getting louder while the grinding vibrates the steps beneath me.
Wordlessly, I cry out, attempting to twist and fight my way free.
An unprecedented tragedy befalls a reclusive village, prompting two detectives to sift through the conflicting stories of the five survivors to get to the truth.What was the inspiration behind this book?
This is my fourth novel, and I wanted to write one that my family could read. My previous works are laden with profanity, graphic violence, sex, and other general unpleasantries. This novel was inspired by a sibling’s suggestion that I write something that a wider audience would enjoy, a book with no BS, and no undue sarcasm, just a solid story with likeable characters.What was one of your favorite scenes?
My absolute favorite scene in this novel is at the end, the culmination of all the characters’ stories and the showpiece powerhouse grand slam ending. It wasn’t my favorite part to write because it was exceedingly difficult and I had to work and re-work it many times to make sure it was coordinately bombastic enough, but it is certainly my favorite part to read! It’s the reveal, and it brings the fantasy and horror elements into play in a heart-stopping fashion.Why should we read your book?
If you are a fan of multiple genre works that are well-written, fast-paced, and exciting, this is a must read. It’s a detective mystery at heart, however, it includes elements of fantasy and horror. Folks who enjoy The Twilight Zone would especially appreciate it, as well as anyone who loves a good page-turner, gobbling up the words to find out what the heck is going on.Tell us about your other published works.
Of the four books I’ve published, the first is a horror novel, the second is dystopian sci-fi, the third a crime comedy, and Amber Hollow is a crossover-genre mystery. I love writing in all genres; in fact, the type of novel I write depends on my idea. I infuse comedy into all of my books because I love the release of tension, but I love crafting scenes that make reader’s pulse race from either excitement or fear.What book and/or author changed your life?
I have four, and each of them had a major impact on me during four stages of my life. The first was The Shining by Stephen King. I read it when I was 12 and after it, I could never read another YA book again. The style, the pacing, the utter creepiness … it was the first book to open my eyes to the all of the stylistic possibilities of the English language. The second was One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey, which I read when I was 15. Simply put, another brilliant showcase of creativity to tell a timeless tale in an incomparable voice. The third was Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut, which I read when I was 17; that man was a genius, creating such a moving tale about WWII while interweaving science-fiction and time travel. He’s arguably one of the best writers of creative fiction of the 21st century. Last, but definitely not least, is Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk. I read it when I was 30 years old (big gap there, I know) and yet again my world was turned upside down. This writer’s first book would become a blueprint for how I looked at the world, at how I viewed both reality and non-reality. It is in my opinion that he is a modern-day Kurt Vonnegut.When not writing, what can we find you doing?
I am a skilled musician who plays many different instruments (mostly strings but some percussion as well) and sings. I enjoy playing the works of the rock and roll greats such as Alice in Chains, Pink Floyd, CCR, The Beatles, Nirvana, etc., as well as writing my own songs that can showcase my four-octave range. Besides writing, bashing away on my guitar while screaming my brains out is my favorite thing to do!What is one skill you wish you had?
I’ve always really wished I could paint or draw; I’m such a lousy artist I can’t even do stick figures well! I actually got Ds in art class throughout my scholastic years … I’m just that terrible. I couldn’t mold clay, couldn’t do pastels, couldn’t do water colors … couldn’t do squat. I tried to make a bong in my senior year of high school out of clay, and it looked like a nuclear power plant tower after a meltdown!Let’s say I’m coming for a visit to your area. What are some must-see places?
You are asking the best person this question because I live in San Diego, California, where there is just about anything you can imagine regarding ocean, mountains, or desert activities. If you would like to swim with sharks, I can take you to La Jolla Cove in the late summer when the nurse sharks are breeding. If you’d like a wonderful view from 7000 feet up, we can go to Mount Palomar where there is a renowned observatory. Night life and clubbing are popular in the Gas Lamp district downtown, and there are a lot of funky, coastal surfing areas where you can chill and grab a giant burrito. And the desert? That’s where all the meth labs are. Yeah … we’ll skip the desert!What is something on your bucket list you have accomplished? Want to accomplish?
I always wanted to bungee jump, and when I was 36 years old, I finally did at the San Diego County Fair. The first time I did it, it was terrifying; the second time I did it, it felt like a “been there, done that” moment, so next up on my bucket list is to go parachuting. I have a top five list of how I want to exit this world, you know, what would look cool on your tombstone, and “Parachute Didn’t Open” is one of them. Second on this list, obviously, is “Eaten by Sharks”!
“I’m not going back!” the woman screamed, her eyes rolling in terror. “You hear me? I’m never going back!”
“We understand,” Sadie said, approaching carefully from the opposite side of her partner, although her reply couldn’t have been farther from the truth. So far, she didn’t understand anything. However, she knew for certain that this woman’s passing wouldn’t do them a damn bit of good at getting to the truth. They needed to keep her still so she wouldn’t let go.
“We’re here to help you,” Jeremy said, “in fact, we were on our way to the hospital to visit you, to ask you some questions—”
“You have questions, you can ask Anthony Guntram! It’s his fault, all his fault!”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, ma’am.” He gazed down, saw a police boat approaching from the mouth of the river. Good timing. “Please, let us help you. Take my hand.”
“I don’t want your help!” she screamed, and in her exertion one of her feet slipped and she almost fell, the only thing keeping her from plunging over the side was her grip on the cable, which apparently was pretty tight. “You can’t help me, no one can!”
“Let us try,” Jeremy begged.
“Never,” she croaked in a husky voice, and then she let go of the cable.
