BOOK TOUR: The Hunter’s Moon by Lee K. Rogers

The Hunter’s Moon

Unleashed
Book One
Lee K. Rogers
 
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Open Door Publications
Date of Publication: Oct. 15, 2024
ISBN:979-8-9871697-3-5
ASIN: B0DHLN7QW1
Number of pages:152
Word Count: 50,100
Cover Artist: Eric Labacz
 
Tagline: Two passionate men but she can only choose one. Will Ana surrender to the beast or the hunter?
 
Book Description:
 
Two men, one moonlit choice—will she surrender to the beast or the hunter?
 
Ana once found peace in her late-night walks through Rivelou, a sleepy Kentucky town where on the surface, nothing much happens. But beneath the quiet streets and old Southern charm, a mystery is lurking. 
 
When Ana is attacked by a vicious beast one night, she’s saved by a mysterious stranger. But as more people fall victim to the beast, she’s torn between the two men who have entered her life—one a fierce protector, the other a dangerous enigma. Both seem to know more about the dark forces at play than they’re letting on.
 
Caught between a deadly predator and a town full of secrets, Ana must decide: can she trust the hunter or the wolf?
 
The Hunter’s Moon, an enemies to lovers shifter romance, is Book One in the Unleashed Series.
 
 

Excerpt:

The animal stayed in the bushes, following along slowly and
silently as it tracked its prey. He could smell it. Taste it. And it attracted
him like nothing ever had before.

Do wolves think in the same way that humans do? Or do they
rely only on instinct, hunting mindlessly?

Whether intellectual reasoning or animal instinct, the wolf
knew it had to watch this woman. It wanted her. It needed her.

Ana breathed in the early autumn air as she headed away from the university and onto the darker streets of the neighboring suburb. It was an older neighborhood, built in the 1920s when the town of Rivelou had begun to spread from its central location on the river, south across the railroad tracks. This particular section of town had been built for the railroad workers: tiny shotgun houses lined up on even tinier lawns.

As Ana crossed Roosevelt Avenue, the streetlights ended,  and the sidewalk was illuminated only by occasional porch or walk lights. She loved sauntering home from her evening classes this time of the year. The air, while it could not yet be called crisp, had lost its summer sultriness, a welcome change from the blistering heat of a Kentucky summer.

As she strolled down Harlan Street, farther from the more heavily trafficked avenue, the road became even darker. It was too soon for most of the leaves to have fallen; they were just beginning to turn red on this last week in September and were so thick on the trees that they hid the full moon. Part of the charm of the old neighborhood was the beautiful, large, old maples and oaks, but their roots also tore up the sidewalks. Ana tripped on one of those cracks. Papers, a lipstick, her wallet, and a few other necessary items spilled out of her purse, and she shook her head in disgust. How could she always trip in the same spot, night after night? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t memorized the uneven areas in the sidewalk after years of walking this way.

The young woman bent down to gather her various belongings and froze. Was that something growling? Somewhat spooked, Ana shoved everything back in her bag and hurried down the street. After a moment she slowed, listening carefully to the night noises around her.

Nothing unusual.

She shook her head. It must have been her imagination. She had slowed her pace and continued on when she heard the sound again. A low growl nearby. A dog? No one on this block had an animal big enough to make that sort of sound. That growl had definitely come from something larger than Mrs. Ahearn’s yappy little Pomeranian. She picked up her pace again.

Only a half block until she turned onto Sycamore, then another half block until she arrived at her own home.

The growl came again. She settled her purse more securely on her left shoulder, her computer bag on her right, and doubled her pace. There were no lights on any of the houses on this part of the block, and of course, the moon took that moment to hide behind a cloud. She took a deep breath and tried to walk at a steady pace. She wouldn’t run even though she could now hear the animal behind her as she rounded the corner. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her own porch light on as well as that of her neighbors, Joe and Linsdey. Only a few more steps to safety.

She was almost in front of her own door when she heard the rush of paws with nails clicking behind her on her sidewalk. With a howl, the animal knocked her down. Holding her computer case in front of her face, she yelled and pushed it at the animal’s huge, dark head. “Take a bite of that, you nasty beast!” It was all teeth and glowing eyes as it loomed over her, growling.

“What do you want?” she shouted. Though it had her on the ground, it didn’t make a move, just stood gazing at her. If she did move, it would strike. She had to do something. She drew a deep breath and prepared to scream when someone came running up behind her.

“Hey, you, get back! Get back!”

She turned her head and saw a man running toward her and the slobbering animal. The man grabbed a stick from the ground as he rushed forward, waving it at the animal.

“Back! Get back, you ugly beast!” he shouted again, striking the creature who turned, snarling at him. They stared intently at each other for a moment before the canine finally dodged the stick and lunged to take a bite out of the man.

The man got in a couple of good blows before the dog suddenly grabbed the stick, tugged at it, and knocked him to the ground. Fumbling in her purse, Ana took action just as the dog leaned back on its haunches preparing to strike. Just before he lunged on the fallen man, Ana found her can of mace and hit the dog in the face with the noxious spray. With a howl of pain, it ran into the darkness.

Several more porch lights suddenly popped on to light the night, and the street was filled with neighbors coming to check on the unusual commotion.

“Are you alright?” her rescuer, still gasping and out of breath, asked. “It didn’t bite you, did it?

 

 
Guest Post:

How to Build a Captivating World for Paranormal Fantasy: Lessons from The Hunter’s Moon

World-building is the backbone of any successful paranormal fantasy. In The Hunter’s Moon—part of The Unleashed Series, set in the eerie yet charming town of Rivelou, Kentucky—the atmosphere, rules, and hidden layers of the world are just as important as the characters themselves. Crafting a believable world where the supernatural thrives alongside the mundane requires attention to detail, logic, and imagination. Here are some strategies I used to build a compelling world.

  1. Anchor the Supernatural in the Mundane

One of the things I enjoy most in paranormal fantasy is the blend of real-world settings with the extraordinary. In The Hunter’s Moon, Rivelou appears, at first glance, to be a just another small, sleepy town. But the more you read, the more you learn about the eerie underbelly of shifters, witches, and vampires. Using the familiar—a college, a diner, a grocery store, a city park—to contrast ordinary, everyday elements with the paranormal can make things seem all the spookier.

  1. Establish Clear Laws for Magic and Powers

In every fantasy, sci-fi or paranormal fantasy book I read the creatures and characters have their own rules. For example, in some authors’ worlds, Vampire eat food as well as drink blood, in others they do not. In some fantasies, werewolves can only shift at the full moon, in others they can shift at any time. To create consistency, the author must decide on the rules, the physics, that run their world. These decisions not only shape the plot but also help the reader understand the stakes.

  1. Create Unique Paranormal Cultures

Different supernatural species should have distinct cultures and social dynamics. This makes your world feel diverse and alive. Consider their customs, power structures, and how they interact with other creatures. Do the different paranormals get along with each other or are they in competition? Are the covens, packs, etc., filled with rivalries and tensions? Are there governing bodies or is society ruthless and chaotic?

  1. Build Mystery and History into the Setting

A rich paranormal world has layers of history that affect the present. How did this particular society come into being? What ancient myths or secrets are at play? This type of backstory helps make the book more believable to the reader. Scatter hints of backstory throughout the dialogue and plot.

  1. Use the Setting to Shape the Characters’ Journeys

In paranormal fantasy, the setting itself can act as a character. The mood, climate, and terrain influence the choices your characters make. A creepy forest might provide a perfect ambush point, or a secluded house could offer temporary refuge from enemies.

  1. Create Conflict That Feels Organic to the World

Conflict should arise naturally from the world you’ve built. Power struggles, ancient feuds, and conflicting moral codes can create tension between characters and propel the story forward. The characters’ struggles should reflect the rules and nature of your world.

Final Thoughts: Make the World Feel Alive

The key to successful world-building is immersion. The world must feel alive, with rules that make sense, cultures that feel rich, and conflicts that flow naturally from its design. In The Hunter’s Moon, the town of Rivelou serves as more than just a backdrop—it’s a character in its own right, filled with mystery, danger, and passion.

About the Author:
 
Lee K. Rogers has been reading fantasy since she discovered the Brothers Grimm, and her love of the genre has only grown from there. From classics such as the Narnia series and The Lord of the Rings (before the movies came out of course!) to Charlaine Harris’ series and Pamela Clare—she reads it all. When she discovered urban fantasy romance she found her new passion. She particularly loves adding a little spicy sex to her own fantasy adventures.
 
Lee once lived in the Kentucky/Indiana border town on which she has modeled Rivelou. While she never met a werewolf there, she was convinced there was an entrance to the land of Fae just down the street from her house.
 
The Hunter’s Moon is the first in her paranormal romance series, Unleashed. The next two books, coming in 2025, are titled The Artificial Witch and The Vampire’s Heart.
 
 

BOOK TOUR: A Prophecy Awakened by Angie Barton

Vampire Punch
I LOVE all things vampire and I LOVE to host!
Planning and setting up the décor is just as much fun as the event itself, and this punch looks great on the table!
It is perfect for Halloween parties and can be made for  kids or adults! It’s the perfect blend of sweet and tart, and its deep red color makes it both fun and delicious!
*If you’re familiar with using dry ice, it can be added for a spooky effect!
Ingredients:
• 2 liters ginger ale or club soda, or lemon lime soda (Sprite or 7Up)
• 1 quart black cherry juice
• 2 pints (32 ounces) Pomegranate Juice
• 16 ounces frozen cherries
• alcohol your choice (I typically add Vodka)
Instructions:
1. Combine the juices and ginger ale together in a large punch bowl. If you are using alcohol, add it now.
2. Add the frozen cherries and stir.
3. Serve with ice and any decorations you may have for your spooky punch! I’ve used plastic vampire teeth and my guests thought it looked “fang-tastic!”

A Prophecy Awakened

Immortal Wounds Series
Book Two
Angie Barton
 
Genre: Fantasy Fiction/Magical Realism
Publisher: Angie Barton 
Date of Publication: June 13, 2024
ISBN: 979-8990647220
ASIN: BOD73FHPSH
Number of pages: 448
Word Count: 104,000
Cover Artist: Donnell McKenzie
 
Tagline: The time has come for the two worlds to collide the prophecy has spoken.
 
Book Description: 
 
Family. Destiny. Magic. Lore.
 
Forced to leave behind her only known family, on the night of her eighteenth birthday Charlotte Delgado flees through the invisible veil that has granted her safety since birth, with only an age-old diary to guide her. Given less than a day to read the four-hundred year-old tales scripted amongst its pages, she barely understands the predetermined path her ancestor writes of, let alone believes it.
 
However, despite the dangers the journal warns of—supernatural creatures that will hunt her along her journey—it’s the ominous twist of fate that surrounds the last bloodline witch in her family that fills Charlotte with the most fear.
 
Is she that witch or merely a pawn moving the prophecy forward?
 
 
 

 

About the Author:

 
Award winning author, Angie Barton, published her first novel, Immortal Wounds, in 2022. Angie’s love for writing centers around the fantasy genre, but she also enjoys writing thriller and romance. Her passion for reading, which led to her love of writing, began in elementary school with the Scholastic Book program. Her parents, who are life-long avid readers, have been a huge influence on her reading. Therefore anything and everything Angie could get her hands on she read.
 
Angie has been an early childhood educator since 1986 and hold a B.S. in Child Development. Her love for literacy has continued throughout her career, not only for herself, but also with the children she has cared for and taught. What Angie is most passionate about is helping others discover the excitement that reading brings. Her greatest desire in writing is to create and bring joy and entertainment to everyone she touches.
 
Currently, if Angie isn’t reading at least three books at a time or working on a rough draft for her next book, she can be found outdoors gardening, woodworking, or relaxing by her pond. She shares that she’s a Capricorn, tried and true, drinks way too much tea, and that her “to be read” pile of books can spike at any time.
 
 
 
 
 

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BOOK TOUR: Immortal Wounds by Angie Barton

SPOOKY COOKIES 
I LOVE baking, especially around the holidays!
Every October I make these amazing double chocolate  chip cookies and it’s easy to say that they are a hit  with both children and adults! They are soft and chewy  with just the right amount of chocolate, but it’s the candy eyeballs that are the star of the show!
INGREDIENTS
• ½ cup unsalted butter, room temperature
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• ½ cup dark brown sugar, packed
• optional: black food coloring
• 1 large egg
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• ½ cup + 2 Tbsp. Hershey’s Special Dark Cocoa Powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• 2 Tbsp. milk
• 1 1/2 cups chocolate chips (I use semi-sweet)
• Candy Eyeballs for topping the cookies
INSTRUCTIONS
1. Preheat oven to 350˚ F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper. Using an electric mixer, combine the butter and sugars. You can add black food coloring at this time to get a deeper shade of black in the cookies. Beat together on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, 2-3 minutes. Blend in the egg and vanilla, scrape down the bowl if needed.
2. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt. Slowly add the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients in the mixer on low speed just until mixed. Mix in the milk on the lowest speed and fold in the chocolate chips.
3. Roll about 2 tablespoons of dough into balls and place on the baking sheets. Flatten slightly. Top cookies with candy eyeballs.
Place cookie sheet in freezer for 10-15 minutes.
4. Bake for 10-11 minutes. Let cool on the baking sheets for about 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely. ENJOY!
 

Immortal Wounds

Immortal Wounds Series
Book One
Angie Barton
 
Genre: Fantasy/Historical Fiction/Magical Realism
Publisher: Angie Barton 
Date of Publication: April 22, 2022
ISBN: 979-8990647206
ASIN: BOD9XTF25K
Number of pages: 392
Word Count: 93,000
Cover Artist: Donnell McKenzie
 
Tagline: Did Isobel make an error in landing in the wrong time, or was it part of her destiny?
 
Book Description: 
 
After witnessing the brutal deaths of her mother and husband, Isobel overhears a confession from one of the murderers, a ruthless vampire who claims to be her father. For fear that she and her unborn daughter’s death could come next, Isobel uses the only magic she possesses and summons a portal to take her two hundred years in the past to revisit an ancestor in Scotland who she believes may know the truth of her parentage. However, in her haste, Isobel lands in the wrong century. Before she realizes her mistake, she stumbles upon a family: a ferocious Highland warrior and his two sisters.
 
Isobel could not have prepared herself for what she discovers during her stay: the vampire who claimed to be her father, alive three hundred years in the past! With the help of Meg, the youngest sister, and Mariam, both women’s ancestor, Isobel finds herself belonging in a world she never dreamed of—one entangled with vampires and webbed with revenge, curses, and a prophecy that has dictated all of their lives for the last four hundred years. 
 
Did Isobel make an error landing in the wrong time, or was it part of her destiny?
 
 

 

About the Author:

 
Award winning author, Angie Barton, published her first novel, Immortal Wounds, in 2022. Angie’s love for writing centers around the fantasy genre, but she also enjoys writing thriller and romance. Her passion for reading, which led to her love of writing, began in elementary school with the Scholastic Book program. Her parents, who are life-long avid readers, have been a huge influence on her reading. Therefore anything and everything Angie could get her hands on she read.
 
Angie has been an early childhood educator since 1986 and hold a B.S. in Child Development. Her love for literacy has continued throughout her career, not only for herself, but also with the children she has cared for and taught. What Angie is most passionate about is helping others discover the excitement that reading brings. Her greatest desire in writing is to create and bring joy and entertainment to everyone she touches.
 
Currently, if Angie isn’t reading at least three books at a time or working on a rough draft for her next book, she can be found outdoors gardening, woodworking, or relaxing by her pond. She shares that she’s a Capricorn, tried and true, drinks way too much tea, and that her “to be read” pile of books can spike at any time.
 
 
 
 
 

 

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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: The Bridge to Magic by Alex Thornbury #Fantasy

 

The Frost of Winter Solstice – by Alex Thornbury

Our village was the last to stand against the invasion of the godly folk from the southern kingdoms. With their strange magic of the cross and prayer, they had pushed back the Spirit’s Veil to our border and cleansed the lands of beings that visited humanity through ages past. And it fell to our warriors to hold back the godly folk from destroying the last of that which was sacred. The Veil was the only way our long-dead ancestors could return and bring their stories to our fireside. And
it was through these stories that we kept the history of our lands alive.

The Winter Solstice of my twelfth year started like any other. Come sunset, the Veil would once again part, and would not close again until sunrise. It was to be a long night and the favourite with our family. We spent the day readying the cottage for visitors; sweeping, stocking the fire and keeping it bright and hot, as the visitors were prone to chills. Though they did not eat the food we offered, we still prepared a feast as much as we could in our poverty. Mother decorated everything to hide the meagre affair.  

After sunset, my sister and I, scrubbed clean and dressed in our finest dresses, joined our parents by the fireplace. They stood side by side in front of Grandma’s favourite chair, holding hands and smiling.

‘Come children, look who is here,’ Mother exclaimed, forgetting in her excitement that we had not the adult eyes to see the beings from beyond the Veil.

‘It’s grandma,’ Father clarified.

So we went to stand beside our parents, looking down at the empty chair, feeling both chilled and yet secretly foolish. Only a handful of nights each year did the invisible visitors arrive. As I grew older, it was hard not to imagine this must be some game the adults played with their children, each solstice, Spring’s Rise and Eve of Souls.

‘Aye, they have grown since you saw them last summer,’ Mother said to the empty chair.

And we were made to sit on the floor by the fire, as mother and father took their seats at the feat-laden table. Grandma then told us stories, which our parents repeated, for we had not the adult ears to hear the voices of the beings from beyond the Veil.

As the night deepened, the fire flickered suddenly and turned icy blue and cold.

Our parents fell abruptly silent and stared at each other with a flash of fright. Then, with strained faces, they turned to me, and I knew what it meant. Only, I had never truly believed that this night would come for me. Surely this was just a game the adults played. We were meant to smile and eat the cakes and listen to the wise tales.

‘Frost has come,’ Father said gravely, looking at me.

I shook my head in denial. No, I never believed in Frost. That was his name, the changer who opened the eyes of children when they reached the cusp of adulthood. Except, not everyone survived  the change. Else, some returned with Frost’s bite upon their toes and fingers. Like Ordur, the baker’s son, who now had only eight fingers left.

Both mother and father rose, for Frost was outside, waiting for me. They led me to the door, dressed as I was for the warm fireplace and not the snow-covered landscape beyond warm walls.

The cold hit me instantly, cutting and laced with threat.

‘Walk to the white tree where Frost is waiting,’ said Mother with a treble to her voice, and closed the door behind me. 

Barefooted, I began the walk to the edge of the forest. It was dark, save for the moonlit snow, and the chill in the air was fierce. As I drew closer to the white tree, the air grew colder and colder, until my blood threatened to turn to ice. No one was around.

At the tree, I stopped. A part of me still denied that any of this was real. Surely, I just needed to turn around and return home, for I could no longer feel my legs or arms, and every breath I drew was shards of glass.

Sharp pain exploded in my eyes, and I cried out, closing them tight. Something warm trickled down my cheeks.

Another jarring pain hit my ears, and I fell to my knees.

I forced myself to open my eyes and saw drops of dark blood in the sparkling snow, and … large, furry paws. I followed the furry legs up and I saw him, beneath the tree, looming high above me. The creature was made of ice, with horns and fur and sharp, black teeth. In his thick hands, he clasped two needle-like icicles. Blood dripped from the tips.

He looked at me and I at him. Then he turned around and walked away into the forest.

I returned home, weeping tears and blood.

Mother wrapped me in a blanket and comforted me with kind words. But it was Grandma’s voice I recognised from long ago that soothed me. ‘Bring the wee lass to the fire and give her the hot
apple wine with extra sugar. She’ll be right in no time.’

In the chair sat Grandma, her form faint and glowing.

‘Come over here, lass, and sit next to your sister where I can see you better. Now, where was I? Oh aye, I remember. I was a wee bit younger than you when Frost came for me. It was the winter after the great fire that swept through the forest when the old fool Baerran the Wise offended the Firelord …’

And the rest of the night I listened to my grandma’s old stories, whilst my parents repeated them for my younger sister. And I hoped our warriors would keep the godly folk away from our lands.  

The Bridge to Magic

The Sundered Web 
Book One
Alex Thornbury
 
Genre:  Fantasy
Publisher: Shadow Lore Publishing
Date of Publication:  21st February 2023
ISBN:  978-0-6454970-0-7
ASIN:  B0B9GCXY5K
Number of pages:  369
Word Count: 105,000
Cover Artist: Alejandro Colucci
 
Tagline:  When only the wrong paths remain, do you walk or get left behind?  
 
Book Description:
 
An award-winning debut for lovers of traditional fantasy and the readers who crave the dark, disturbing and original.
 
Men thought they had won the war against magic, when a demi-god had sundered their realm and banished magic and its keepers to the deadlands. But then another terror was born. Nothing can survive the approaching Blight. Terren, the last refuge of mankind, now stands alone in its path. Only the bridge across the great chasm offers any hope of escape… for some.
 
Elika has long feared the bridge to the Deadlands. It had taken her parents, and the lives of more poor fools than she could count. What’s there for them anyway on the other side but more suffering and death? Though the gods had abandoned them, the king and his priests will stop the Blight. They just need to destroy every echo of magic, the source of the Blight. Then she discovers that the biggest echo of magic is hiding inside her, and through her it seeks to enact the will of its own.
 
Accused of being a mage, she is hunted and hated. Many doubt her loyalties. Her gang turns against her. The one man she thought she could trust and love, abandons her. Everything she knew about her past shatters, as long-buried secrets about her true birth emerge. Worse still, she may not even be human. She must race to find a way to purge herself from magic’s hold. But as time runs out for the city and her magic only grows in power, can she sacrifice herself to save the last of humanity and all that she loves?
 

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There was a time before the bridge was forged, but those stories had been mostly forgotten. The dark history of that bygone age was now buried in the archives of the priests. Only the echoes of it remained on the tongues of minstrels and drunks. Elika had heard them all and each tale seemed more terrible and
unimaginable than the other.

Those were dismal times of endless wars—men against magic, magic against men. The time when even the storms and rains were at the mercy of magic and its fickle moods. It might snow in the summer, or the hot winds might carry sand upon them, burying entire cities. Honest travelers feared to ride through the
forest, lest the trees attacked them. A farmer might wake up to find his river
flowing the wrong way or dried up altogether. Those days were gone and might
have been forgotten, but for this stark reminder before Elika’s eyes.

And who had not stood before the dark bridge in their last moments, facing that choice they all must one day make?

Like that hoary, old codger in the ale-stained uniform of the city’s Blue Guard who had stood before the bridge for nigh on an hour; unsteady on his legs, his sour breath steaming in the crisp, winter night, drinking deeply of the cheap gin, which was as likely to kill him by morning as what he now faced. He took a long swig out of his bottle as he braced himself for the unknown fate ahead.

Elika sat huddled in the doorway of an abandoned house, watching him, needing to know whether he would reach the other side or die crossing. Her ears filled with the howling winds rising from the great chasm, and she did not need to imagine what he was thinking, staring as he did at the monstrous bridge and the lifeless bank beyond, for she was thinking the same—surely it is better than what
remains at our back. Better than what approaches.

She clutched the cloak tighter around herself against the biting gust of wind trying to rip it from her. She had scavenged the woolen cloak some days ago
from a dead beggar, and it still smelled of his mustiness. She pulled up her
knees to her chest and clamped her icy hands under her arms.

The stone wall was cold at her back. Her breath steamed. She waited and watched the old guard take another wobbly step toward the bridge, seeking courage in his gin-dulled mind. He took another gulp, stared at the empty bottle in surprise, then threw it aside with a foul curse. The bottle hit the frozen ground and
rolled off the edge of their world into the chasm, to fall for eternity in that
endless darkness.

About the Author: 

 
Alex Thornbury is an award-winning author. She grew up in Cheshire UK, and developed deep love of history and fantasy thanks to the many castles she visited as a child. Though she grew up to be an Alchemist by trade, she never stopped fantasising about other worlds, dragons and epic battles.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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BOOK TOUR: Lords of LA #2 by Frank Zanca #GraphicNovel #Horror

 

Lords of LA #2

Frank Zanca
 
Genre: Graphic Novel, Action/Horror
Publisher: Destiny Horizons, Inc.
Date of Publication: 11/5/23
Number of pages: 48
Cover Artist: Joe Sanchez
 
Tagline: Vampires, the Mob, 1950s Hollywood = Awesome
 
Book Description: 
 
Lena Morgan was an exotic-looking lounge singer with hopes of achieving the Hollywood dream in 1952. Here dreams were dashed when she became entangled in a lust triangle between the two mob bosses who ruled the city. She found herself turned into a vampire and was forced to leave her newborn son behind for fear of losing control and hurting him. She spent sixty years training to live among humans, building a fortune, and learning not only to fight, but to dominate. Returning to LA, she has one thought, one goal – revenge on both crime families.
 

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Trailer: https://youtu.be/yE_UTGba3NE

 
From the Author – Practical Advice for Beginning Fiction (or other genre) Writers: 

After writing my seventh novel, my twelfth screenplay, and my ninth comic book/graphic novel, I’m still learning what not to do. I often speak to other writers who ask me for suggestions and the first thing I ask is: “What is your story about?” I’ve heard things like, “It’s about a world where…?” or “It’s a cookbook, but also a story about my life in Afghanistan. The recipes are pages sprinkled into the story.”

My initial response has been awestruck, but then gathered my thoughts and said in respective reply, “A story is never about a place, it’s about people.” To the second, “Your book is either about your life in Afghanistan or it’s a cookbook, it cannot be both. It can be a cookbook with a little anecdotal companion to each recipe, but you can’t stop the story to throw a recipe on a page and then continue – it would be jarring.”

The secondary response to each is the same – “How does the publishing marketing team market your book?” In the case of the biographical cookbook, it can only be marketed as one thing, so it’s either a cookbook or it’s a biography. It can’t be marketed as both. One will always take a backseat to the other. Sure, there are dual genre stories, like supernatural romance and sci-fi fantasy, but you’re still marketing to one set of readers. In other words, know your audience; know exactly to whom you are marketing. If you find yourself marketing to two different audiences, then there’s an error somewhere that you must reconsider.

After you choose your genre, then you must define your story. You can do this in one of two ways: 1) Create a character and then build the story around them or 2) Create a story and then build the characters that will run the obstacle course you’ve built for them. I’ve done both. Especially in the comic book medium, you find yourself building the character first. From there you must create the hero’s journey, which must be present in all stories. This is what makes your character not only relatable but makes the reader root for them. The harder the struggle, the more the audience will engage. However, that struggle must be grounded in the reality of your story. If your character falls a hundred feet from a cliff in the 1800s and in the end must win a foot race against the villain, most readers are going to check out due to the implausibility. Make sure you’re not going too far out of the box.

Make sure you stick the landing. I read a great many books published by major imprints where I find the ending ill conceived and disappointing. An ending doesn’t have to be epic, but it should give a nice bit of closure to the main character’s story where have achieved their goals and become the person they were meant to be. Give the ending a great deal of thought and make sure you get the opinion of several people before you settle into the editing process.

About the Author:
 
Frank Zanca is an award-winning writer and producer with over 20 years of experience in the entertainment industry. Frank’s first published work was the Shadow Raven comic book in 1995. He has since created the Destiny Aurora franchise, which has been wildly successful in both novel and graphic novel forms. It also spawned a board game, and the audiobook is now available on Audible. Also available on Amazon is Frank’s acclaimed WWII biography Escape from Berlin based on the life of Diane Jacobs.
 
Frank wrote and produced Six Gun Savior, the Supernatural/Western, starring Eric Roberts and Martin Kove (Cobra Kai), along with Star Trek: Renegades.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

BOOK TOUR: Titanian Warrior by Victoria Saccenti #PNR #FantasyRomance @VictoriaSAuthor

 

Titanian Warrior

Titanian Chronicles 
Book Three
Victoria Saccenti
 
Genre: PNR/Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Essence Publishing
Date of Publication: January 31, 2023
ISBN: 9798987432211   
ASIN: B0BNZFHM28
Number of pages: app 245
Word Count: 82825
Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter
 
Tagline: One woman holds the key to his destiny—and his people’s salvation.
 
Book Description: 
 
Hagen drags himself to the gates of Hell, body and soul shredded by the bloodlust that consumes all the unmated of his kind. Awaiting the painful atonement that will buy him ten more years to find his eternal mate—or face oblivion. But Hades himself kicks him out with the bloodlust still prowling, unsatisfied, in his veins. 
 
Bargained away by her parents to Master O, a mysterious, cruel wizard, Faiza serves in his household, keeping her small magic a secret, plagued by wild, confusing visions of a strange, suffering man. Then the master brings home a wounded Titanian warrior whose touch sends ice, fire, and desire racing through her body. 
 
When she learns Master O plans to use Hagen as a weapon to conquer all races, she devises a desperate plan to free him—a plan that opens a portal to a world she’s never known. And a destiny entwined with danger that could destroy them all.
 
Amazon      iBooks      Nook     Kobo      Smashwords     Books2Read
 

Excerpt:

Shivalik Hills, Nepal

The towering pair of boulders stood as gatekeepers and markers of the way. A steep path snaked between them until farther down the hill, the road disappeared in thick fog. Leaning on the closest rock, Hagen steadied himself to catch his breath, then pushed on.

Bloodlust crippled his Titanian vision. Still, he stumbled, rolled, and crawled over jagged rocks and gnarled roots with single-minded determination to reach his appointed meeting place, the cavern at the base of the Shivaliks, and the sole entrance to Hades’s domain on the earthly plane. A perverse satisfaction filled him each time he
scraped and sliced his exposed skin, as this was only a precursor to the punishment he deserved. If he could shred his flesh to strips in anticipation as he had done with his clothes, so much the better.

Hagen advanced through the haze, seeking the deity’s promised signal. Images of his frenzy during the last skirmish prodded him. He strained past gore-filled images, and the effort paid off. There, deep within the haze, a faint red light marked the spot. Alecto had not forgotten. A hitched breath escaped his lungs as he stood and trod on a
more secure step.

As the haze dissipated, the cavern’s hungry mouth gaped before him. Healing and deliverance acquired through pain would soon be his. As he inched closer to the wavering light, he removed the last remaining strips of clothing. The offering had to be bare and unadulterated. Nothing but skin would satisfy the Fury, purify his spirit, and
postpone the horror of termination for another ten years—a mere blip in the lifespan
of a Titanian. And yet, a decade offered hope and an opportunity to continue
his search for true salvation: his eternal mate.

His brother Soren had been at the edge of obliteration when the universe revealed Maya’s symbol in his scrolls. He’d been given a Simurgh, no less, the most powerful of all phoenix mates. Soren’s joy and deliverance had pleased Hagen without reservation or a covetous thought. His brother had earned such a high reward.

But what about him? Was he unworthy of an eternal mate, of love, and companionship? He’d only wished for a small slice of heaven. His cousin Roald had found eternal happiness with Ginny. Staring at an endless existence of service and loneliness was a frightening prospect for a Titanian of any rank.

Hagen could never be the brilliant fighter Soren was, and had, on occasion, not followed every command to the letter. Nevertheless, he’d proven his mettle and unwavering loyalty to the Titanian cause in and out of combat. Many a night, he’d promised to change his unorthodox ways and toe the line, if only the universe would grant him a phoenix mate.

Alas no, he’d been denied time and again. After witnessing from the sidelines the mating ceremony and resulting Titanian bliss, frustration burned a hole in his chest. Before the emotion turned to bitterness, he’d escaped to his old daemon hunting grounds in Asia.

On his flight back, he realized that his cherished airplane and state-of-the-art electronic gadgets no longer satisfied or entertained him. Even that last bit of gratification had been taken from him. Because seeing happiness unfold for Soren and Roald had displayed in real time what mattered: the completion a mate brought to a
Titanian’s soul. The beaming couples had stepped up onto a new plane of
existence. After witnessing their ascendance, no fancy equipment could ever
fulfill him.

The hole in his chest turned black and cold.

Blood hunger, the deadly lust, awoke.

Visions tortured him. Rage drove him to living nightmares. He searched for minion hideouts and sought conflict at every turn. In the heat of these encounters, bloodlust blinded him to allies and friends who’d trusted him with their lives. Asian black bear and clouded leopard shifters had perished under his hands. While his bewildered, dying friends pleaded for their lives, he’d only seen minions. The red haze
controlled him, and he’d indulged the insatiable hunger to spill all blood.

The last clash had been the worst. Standing on a promontory, Hagen viewed an endless battlefield stained with red blood, green ooze, and mutilated remains. And as the mental fog cleared, horror captured his soul and he fell on his knees, begging the universe for help.
The chthonic deity, the implacable Alecto, heard and replied in his mind.

“Await my arrival at the place of atonement.”

Explanations had not been necessary. Hagen’s Titanian spirit, same as every supernatural in the earthly plane, knew the location of the terrible gate. In eras past, he’d avoided going near it. Now, stripped to his natural state, defeated and humbled, he entered the darkness with a bowed head and an anxious demeanor.

To his right, four stonelike posts, spread in a rectangular formation, jutted out of the rock wall. Hagen studied them, unsure of what to do.

“Step in. Face out and clasp the posts. Place your ankles outside each one,” the Fury instructed.

“Receive and accept the pain, Titanian. Do not flinch or resist. Show your contrition. Only then will the universe accept your offering.”

 

About the Author:

 
Award-winning, multi-genre author Victoria Saccenti writes romantic women’s fiction, contemporary romance, and paranormal romance. Not one for heart and flower stories, she explores the edgy twists and turns of human interaction, the many facets of love, and all possible happy endings.  After thirty years of traveling the world, she’s settled in Central Florida. She splits her busy schedule between family and her active muse at Essence Publishing. However, if she could convince her husband to sell their home, she would pack up her computer and move to Scotland, a land she adores. On a side note, in one form or another, Scotland appears in most of her stories.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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BOOK TOUR: A Haunting at Marianwood by E.M. Munsch #mystery

A Haunting at Marianwood

Dash Hammond 
Book Six
E.M. Munsch
 
Genre: Mystery
Publisher: Mystery and Horror, LLC
Date of Publication: October 18, 2022
ASIN: ‎B0BJ4GYGD2
ISBN-10: ‎1949281213
ISBN-13: ‎978-1949281217
Print length: ‎217 pages
 
Book Description: 
 
Life is good for Dash Hammond. He’s recently remarried his childhood sweetheart, Dr. Maevis Summers, and together they’re raising his four-year-old son, T.J. in the Hammond family homestead in Clover Pointe, Ohio. A retired Army colonel, Dash now keeps himself busy fixing everything from a leaky faucet to an unsolved murder.
 
It is no wonder that his cousin Billy McCafferty calls on Dash for a road trip to Kentucky when  his oldest sister is in trouble. The president of a religious order, Sister Miriam Patrice, Miri Pat to those who knew her before she took the veil, has been hearing things, seeing things and misplacing things. A very competent woman, she refuses to accept an unearthly reason for all this.
 
Marianwood, the motherhouse of the Sisters of the Blessed Mother of God, is located on an old plantation thought to be haunted by its original inhabitant, Miss Victoria Harris, who is rumored to prowl the grounds and cemetery in search of her murdered beau. 
 
When the Ohio contingent arrives, they discover that things are not as simple as your ordinary haunting. 
 
In a battle of wits, will the victor be supernatural or a very corporal retired Army colonel?
 
 

Excerpt:

A HAUNTING AT MARIANWOOD

Sister Miriam Patrice slid back from the kneeler. The quiet of the church soothed her as it wrapped its velvet cloak of serenity around her. She sat, hands folded,
once in prayer but now to stop the trembling. Glancing at the sunlight
streaming through the stained-glass windows casting a rainbow on the empty
pews, she drew in deep slow breaths. She looked at the watch pinned to her
tunic. Time to get back to work. She rose to leave the church, her place of
refuge, a place free from the distractions of the running the community and the
new retirement home the sisters established to help make ends meet.

The members of the Sisters of the Blessed Mother of God found their numbers
dwindling. New recruits, as Sister Miriam Patrice called them mimicking her
cousin Dash Hammond’s military jargon, were very rare. The teaching
congregation once had more than a hundred sisters. Vocations, callings to
either the religious or the educational side of the community, had fallen to less
than a handful each year.

As she walked down the aisle to the back of the church, she heard it again. Tap, tap, tap. She stopped to listen, making sure she wasn’t mistaken. That sound
sent shivers down her spine. Squaring her shoulders she walked to the doors
next to the church exit. One led up to the choir loft, the other down to the
cellar. In days past she had gone up the stairs; today she would go down.

Pulling the doorknob, Miriam Patrice met the resistance of a locked door. She pulled out her keys and unlocked it. She struggled with the door, suggesting to her
that no one had gone to the cellar in a while.

The stone steps were worn but sturdy. She moved cautiously into the darkness, one hand on the wall to steady her nervous knees, the other searching for the
handrail. Her hope was that the security guard forgot to close the door one day
and some critter, not two legged, was trapped down here and making the tap,
tap, tap sound. Logically she knew this was wrong, but the alternative could be
worse.

Decades ago they discovered one of the newer buildings constructed during a period of rapid expansion had been built on an underground spring. It wasn’t long before the building tilted, as did their finances. What a waste of time and money.
Fearful that what she would find was a tell-tale pooling or bubbling of water,
she moved forward slowly. She said a silent prayer that she would not stumble
into a puddle, a precursor of the inevitable unwelcome news.

Her trek seemed unnecessarily slow though reason told Miriam Patrice she should alert one of her sisters where she was just in case she lost her footing. But
her reasoning had not been the sharpest of late. She blamed her sleepless
nights, not because of an uneasy conscience but an overabundance of concern for
her congregation and its uncertain future, both financially and individually.

After spending a half an hour poking into the corners, searching for the origin of the sound, Miriam Patrice gave up. She needed a flashlight if she wanted to do
a proper search. Next time she would be prepared. Next time, she told herself,
she would be less skittish, more confident that she could deal with whatever
sprung up from the tap, tap, tap. After deciding this, she nodded to herself.
At least she didn’t hear a drip, drip, drip.

The sound had stopped so she returned to the church. As she locked the door behind her, the tap, tap, tap began again, louder this time. If she permitted herself, she would have said damn.



About the Author:

 
Elaine Munsch is a native of Cleveland, Ohio, but has spent her adult life in Louisville, Kentucky.  She graduated from Nazareth College of Kentucky located outside of Bardstown and attended The Ohio State University for her graduate work. She has been a bookseller for fifty years working in both large and small, chain and independent bookstores. She opened the first Barnes & Noble in Kentucky where she set up a mystery reading group which is still active today. She also taught classes in the mystery genre for the Veritas Society and joined the local chapter of Sisters in Crime.
  
With Susan Bell, she co-edited MYSTERY WITH A SPLASH OF BOURBON, an anthology of bourbon related stories.
 
As E.M. Munsch, she writes the Dash Hammond series set on the shores of Lake Erie. The latest title, A HAUNTING AT MARIANWOOD, is set to be released at the end of October.
 
 
 

RELEASE BLITZ: A Raven Remix by Sarah Hualde #YoungAdult #CozyMystery #Paranormal @Sthecoffeejedi

 

A Raven Remix

Paranormal Penny Box Set 
Books 1, 1.5 and 2 
Sarah Hualde
 
Genre: YA Paranormal Cozy Mystery
Date of Publication: 11/15/22
ISBN:  9781736756645
ASIN:   B0BKFLD85D
Number of pages: 550
Word Count: approx 80,000
Cover Artist:  OlivaProDesign
 
Book Description:  
 
Most people run from death,
But not Penny.
She chases it down.
 
Penny’s premonitions put her friends in peril. Join her as she stalks the bird of death by following the musical clues he leaves behind.
 
Will she and her cheeky cat, Spades save the day?
Or will the Raven be one step ahead?
 
This Paranormal Penny Boxset features books 1, 1.5, and 2 in the Paranormal Penny Mystery Series.
 
Join Penny and Spades as they thwart murderers before they strike.
Amazon     Kobo     Apple     BN

Excerpt:

It wasn’t life that flashed before my eyes as Betty Fae thwacked me between the shoulder blades. It was death and disaster—replays of all the faces of shock and sadness worn by acquaintances of my past. Death of one sort or the other followed that stupid Raven.

I remembered them all. Vividly. The writer, the homeschool mom, the surfer, the politician. They were among the near-strangers I’d encountered and endangered.

Following their faces came the really painful pictures. The friendly child advocate, the sweet boy next door, and losing my aunt and uncle. After them, but always above them, followed the loss of my sister and father.

All because of the same intolerable bird. Gracious enough to give me a glimpse of their perils before nudging them to the brink. Impending doom sat, staring at me, from the cup of the only friend I had in town- Janice Rockland. It lingered there amid the froth bubbles, telling me Janice Rockland had twenty-four hours, at most, left to live.

My eyes watered. My throat closed all the tighter. Even after it dislodged my Belgian waffle. Air battled past my suffocating emotions. I gulped it down,
despising myself and fearing for my boss.

Janice and Betty Fae offered me a glass of water and napkins, thinking they’d saved the day. Little did they know. Trouble had just landed in their small town.

Janice watched me through the rest of the meal. If I told her she was about to die, would she be able to eat? I sipped my coffee and avoided conversation.

Long ago, I’d explained my weird glimpses to one of the Raven’s victims. Instead of believing me, my friend grew increasingly sarcastic about my confession. He mocked me. I didn’t blame him. I’m not sure I would’ve believed me, either. In the end, his sarcasm killed him. Laughing and gesturing like a mad bird to make fun of my premonitions, he’d lost control of his bicycle and collided with a garbage truck just as it was lowering its load.

No, I wasn’t about to tell Janice about her Raven. I’d keep watch. Stay sharp. Once the bird made an appearance, he wouldn’t leave until his prey was dead. Accidentally or with malice aforethought.

The next song, movie quote, television commercial, or anything ominous could clue me in on how to save her. At least I could give it a shot. If I didn’t keep a constant eye on Janice, her death would be on my head.

 

About the Author:

 
Sarah lives in California, in a home that brings her happiness and hay fever. She loves God, loves her family, and loves freshly brewed coffee. She has a husband who cooks, a son who stop animates, a daughter who loves animals, a dog that follows her everywhere, and a turtle who scowls at her condescendingly.
 
Her mother raised her on Mary Higgins Clark, Diane Mott Davidson, and Remington Steele. Her grandmother shared True Crime stories with her as they plotted how to get away with the perfect murder. It’s no surprise that Sarah became an award-winning spinner of suspenseful tales brimming with quirky characters. Mysteries are in her blood. Not that she could survive one of her own stories. She confesses, “I’d be snuffed out by chapter two.”
 
 
 
 
 
 



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BOOK TOUR: Asylum by Susy Smith #dystopian #romanticsuspense @susy8469 

 

Asylum 

Asylum Series 
Book One
Susy Smith
 
Genre: Dystopian Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Balkan Press
Date of Publication: August 17, 2021
ISBN: 195487118X
ASIN: B09C4WRJQH
Number of pages: 330
Word Count: 87k
 
Tagline: A fight for freedom
 
Book Description: 
 
In the aftermath of the Big Crash, the President of the United States declares martial law. The National Guard rounds up citizens who are never heard from again. While fear and chaos reign, a small band of revolutionaries rise up to resist.
 
Lacy Monroe, barely out of high school, never saw herself as a leader. All that changed after the Big Crash. When the rest of her family fled, she remained on the farm, the last piece of land in the state holding out against the hostile government. Alone and vulnerable, she endures a horrific attack, yet survives and offers sanctuary to others like herself—until an old friend turns her world upside-down.
 
Jace Cooper has harbored a secret for years—he is completely in love with his best friend’s sister. The world is crumbling around them, no one knows how long they will survive, and all he wants is to protect Lacy and stay with her.
 
With the National Guard circling ever closer, hunger and sickness taking a toll, and betrayal and jealousy threatening to destroy the group from the inside, the struggle to hold onto the farm pushes them to the brink. And Lacy is keeping a secret so devastating it could drive Jace to unthinkable actions. Is the farm a safe asylum—or will the fight for freedom destroy them?
 

Book
Trailer: https://youtu.be/T1kpaMsvkSw


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Excerpt

“Can I ask you something?” Lacy asked quietly.

Jace looked over his shoulder. “Anything.”

“This tattoo on your back.” She ran a finger down his spine. He shivered.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have it? I mean, what made you get a wolf-dragon tattoo? It’s unique.”

“Do you want the short answer or the long one?” She trailed her finger back up his spine. “Just tell me what was on your mind. Did you design it?”

“Yeah, I did,” he said, his voice husky. Her fingers kept tracking his spine and he found concentration difficult. “I’ve always been fascinated with dragons. The
symbolism behind the myth. I love everything about them. But the dragon needs
temperance. With great power comes arrogance, conceit, and a thirst for even
more power.” He chuckled and glanced at her.

“Just about everything you’ve accused me of.”

Her hand stilled. “Jace, I—”

“It’s okay,” he reassured her, giving her leg a squeeze. “Don’t feel bad.”

“Go on,” she urged.

He continued to tread water. “Well, the dragon holds immense possibility while the wolf relies on his instincts to guide him. Combined, the dragon sees all the
possibilities before him, but the wolf chooses based on instinct. His heart
guides him. It’s a balance. The dragon embodies primordial power. The wolf
checks it with his ability to relate to others. The wolf takes on everything
the dragon is—his protection, loyalty, fearlessness, and strength—and enhances
it, makes it stronger. The two combined incorporate everything I want to be.
The tattoo is a reminder. Especially when I’m having a bad day.”

She laughed. “Or when someone accuses you of being conceited?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted. “Do you like it?”

“I do. You said you designed it. Does that mean you drew this?”

“Yeah. I knew what I wanted.”

“Wow.” She sounded impressed. “I had no idea you could draw. You’re talented.”

He grinned. “Girl, you have no idea just how talented I am.”

“And the dragon rises.”

Laughter burst from his chest. “Touché.”

A red-eared slider swam their direction. “Look.” He pointed at the turtle’s nose jutting out of the water.

Her grip around his neck tightened. “Let’s go back.”

“He won’t hurt you,” he said, laughing, but swam back anyway. He helped her out then hoisted himself on the dock beside her. He retrieved his shirt and offered
it to her. “Dry off with this.”

She took the shirt and mopped her face. “Pond water is so gross, but that was fun.” She gave him a demure smile. “Thanks. I needed that.”

He spent the rest of the day making her laugh. Being her distraction. But as the
afternoon waned, so did her spirits. She shifted from cheerful to pensive. The
temperature dropped as the western sun burned to the ground. “I guess we’d
better get back.”

She sighed. “Yup. Duty calls.”

They untied their horses and started back. When Highway 11 stretched before them like a winding, black snake, he trotted up beside her and grinned. “I saw the
girl I used to know today.”

They crossed the highway onto Monroe land then she turned and faced him, eyes full of pain and regret. “That girl is gone, Jace. She doesn’t exist anymore. If
that’s who you’re looking for then give up because you’re wasting your time.”
She gave Acer a nudge and galloped away. Frustrated, he urged his horse
forward. She wasn’t going to run. Not this time. He raced beside her and
grabbed her reins.

Eight hooves skidded on dirt and loose gravel and halted in a dusty cloud between the two farmhouses. His horse whinnied, tossing her head. She jerked her reins out of his hands. “That was a stupid thing to do,” she shouted. “I could’ve been
thrown!” Chest heaving, he jumped off his horse. His boots thudded on the
gravel. He stomped around Acer, trying to check his frustration. The girl was
scared, and he didn’t want to demolish the progress he made today. He reached
up and plucked her out of the saddle. “Stop running from me, girl.” He studied
her and saw her demeanor shift from anger to fear. “I’m not going to hurt you.
If you’d crawl out of your pain long enough, you’d see that.” She flung her
hands up, eyes glistening.

“You don’t think I’m trying? I’m drowning trying to save everyone else, but
who’s gonna save me?” She bit her lower lip and looked away. He drew her into
his arms and to his surprise, she didn’t fight him. He rested his chin on her
head and whispered, “Hold on to me. I’ve got you.”

 
Guest Post:

Creating Character: Breathing Life into the Cast of Asylum

If you remove characters from a story, any story, all you’re left with is a news report, right?So, characters, even though they’re metaphors, should feel, act, and speak like people. If you plucked your characters out of your book and Geppetto’d them into real, living beings, would they withstand the test? Or would they fall short as too perfect? Or too flat? No one is princess perfect just as no one, not even the most obtuse person you know, is two dimensional.

  1. First impressions. What is the first thing you notice when you meet someone? Unfortunately, for most of us, it’s their physical appearance. When readers meet characters in a story, they must be able to “see” what they look like. I read a novel recently, and the author never clued me in on what eye color the main character had. For me, that was super annoying. Seasoned authors will tell you to character sketch and that’s one of the first things I had to sit down and do. I mentioned eyes, and for me personally, that’s a big deal. I tend to focus on eye color (for better or worse). You have three basic colors to choose from: blue, green, brown, and their variants. It’s how you describe the color and what shines through them that will help bring your character off the page. My main character, Lacy, had green eyes, but what about them? In Jace’s point of view, he described the color changing with her mood from a thoughtful forest green to glittering diamond hard. Conversely, Jace had blue eyes, but not the light, ice blue of Zach, his brother. They were dark, sometimes with a humorous spark, and other times darkened with desire. In moments your characters can’t speak, their eyes can. Any character can have green, blue, or brown eyes. Breathe life into them. Otherwise, you’re left with a main character’s eyes the same boring brown as your supporting cast.
  2. Give your characters flaws. This was hard for me to do. Even though I wanted Lacy, my main character, to react to diverse, difficult situations with unerring grace, I realized she couldn’t. I let her make mistakes: lose her temper with Jace, treat Hailey harshly, yell at Cat. I placed her in unthinkable circumstances. Of course, she was going to fail! Why? Because that’s what people do. How they handle and grow from their failures shows the reader of whatmettle your character’s made. Crawl through their head for their reactions. At the beginning of Asylum, Lacy suffered a brutal attack. As her rapist was leaving, I felt I had to show how absolutely devastated and angry she was. I can’t tell you how many times I re-wrote the scene until she uttered two words to himthat summed up everything she felt. As an author, I’m never happy using vulgar language, but at that point in Lacy’s life, those two words were exactly what she would’ve said. Even though I fought her (and myself), I eventually conceded they were the best two words to write.
  3. Character vernacular; keep it real! If it sounds stiff and too formal as you read it back to yourself, it probably is. I had to go back and edit in contractions, and even use words like, y’all. Two of my characters needed their speech to set them apart. Raul, born and raised in Mexico, needed to sound different. Think about how a foreigner doesn’t contract their words. They say things like, “I do not understand,” instead of,“I don’t get it.” Edwards, an older gentleman and from a different era, used words like fella instead of guy or man. Set your characters apart by what they say, how they sound. Otherwise, you’re back to a news report.
  4. Oh, the feels… Showing my character’s emotion instead of tellingabout it was what I struggled with the most. Those dang adverbs ending in ‘ly’ tripped me up more times than I can count. Don’t underestimate the power of movement. Show your character’s frustration by pacing, running a hand through their hair, heat rising up their neck, etc. In Asylum, I wrote, “Her feet slammed against the wood floor. Her socks softened the impact, and much to her disappointment, muted the sound.” This showed Lacy’s frustration. It took a lot of work to edit in how Lacy felt by her actions. Your character’s differing personalities will show through their actions. In Hailey’s case, she showed how she felt by simply sniffing. I didn’t have to say she was too haughty to do menial household chores to convey her personality. I wrote, “She sniffed. ‘I don’t plunge toilets.’” Can you see it? I can.
  5. Do you know someone who’s eccentric? We all do. Don’t be afraid to give your character a quirk or two. Cat entered Lacy’s life and quickly became her surrogate mother. Even though Cat wasn’t a main character, I wanted her to stand out as no-nonsense, and a bit audacious. She kept the farm running and everyone in line with nonsensical metaphors. One of my favorite examples is when she chastised Jace for picking a fight with Travis. She said, “Travis didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Lacy and you know it. I’ll admit, sometimes he has no more sense than a snake in a snowstorm …” Memorable, right? I mean, who wants to be compared to a snake in a snowstorm?

Breathe life into your characters. You’re omniscient, the master of your own universe. Whether your story is plot driven, or character driven, you need strong characters that will live inside the readers mind long after they’ve finished the book.

About the Author:

 
Susy Smith has a bachelor’s degree in English and is a language teacher for the Kanza Tribe. Her debut novel, Asylum, won the 2020 WriterCon contest in the novel category. She loves creating a home on paper for the characters in her head and dabbling in poetry. She lives in a small Oklahoma town with her husband, four grown children nearby, and two spoiled dog-children.
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

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BOOK TOUR & INTERVIEW: Pandemic: Chaos is Bleeding by Cynthia Fridsma #urbanfantasy #thriller #authorinterview @cynthia_fridsma

 

Pandemic: Chaos is Bleeding

Cynthia Fridsma
 
Genre: horror/thriller/urban fantasy
Publisher: CynhiaFridsma.COM
Date of Publication: November 24, 2021
ISBN Paperback: 979-8773139225
ISBN Hardcover: 979-8779427166 
ISBN Audiobook: 978-1669614173
ASIN: B09MJXPCMY
Number of pages: 280
Word Count: 67,415
Cover Artist: Cynthia Fridsma
 
Tagline: Since the pandemic, she stayed home. Then they kidnapped her friend.
 
Book Description:
 
Since the pandemic, Sybil Crewes hasn’t left home. She stopped her duties as an ATU agent (Anti-Terrorism Unit). But then, she got a disturbing phone call. Her friend, Harry Brown, has been kidnapped, and this forces Sybil out of her house.
 
While doing so, she uncovers an illegal lab where they created a deadly COVID-19 variant that turns its victims into skinned zombies. She contacts the ATU to resume her duties as an ATU agent to stop the new threat and save the world from its undoing.
 
Pandemic: Chaos is Bleeding is a fast-paced modern horror/thriller novel, and partly based on true events.
 
 
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Libro     NookAudio
 

Excerpt

The cold air was refreshing as she sprinted to her Ford Mustang in the parking lot. After she sat down in the driver’s seat, she opened Windows Maps on her cell phone to search for the address her evil handler had texted. Since Microsoft stopped
supporting Windows Phone, she couldn’t use her voice to enter the address in
the navigation app of her cell phone. It felt weird to go unarmed, on a mission unknown, while the navigation calculated the best route from her current location. Whoever captured Harry held all the cards. At the moment, she had no other choice but to follow up on their instructions. She started the car and drove off. Luckily, there wasn’t much traffic on her way to the mansion.

Since the pandemic, life was slow. People had more time on their hands, working from home, distracted by their kids and spouse. Eating more comfort food—watching TV all day, or in Sybil’s case, spending time with her pet rabbit, Max, and trying to avoid the news. She didn’t have a TV. Well, she did, but she used her 70-inch display as a monitor. It was connected to a Windows 10 laptop with an external soundcard attached to a Dolby digital surround set. Felicity installed the equipment and showed Sybil how to use her dinosaur cell phone as a remote control for the
laptop.

The laptop offered her a safe window to the world. She had online meetings once a week, on Sunday night at eight, and sometimes she watched the news on CNN. Most of the time, she used the laptop to binge-watch streaming media. Prime video, Netflix, Disney Plus, and reruns of her favorite TV shows: Body of Proof, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and she loved movies starring Denzel Washington. My life during the pandemic.

She wanted to floor the gas pedal, but then she noticed a police car and she slowed down considerably. The police vehicle turned left at the intersection. She glanced over her shoulder. A truck came into sight, and a few more cars appeared on the street ahead of her. Morning rush hour was about to begin, even though she hadn’t
expected it.

Sybil reached her destination in twenty-six minutes after she floored the gas pedal when she reached the outskirts of Boston. She had some time to kill, but she didn’t want to waste it by sitting in her car. So, she explored the area. The mansion
didn’t stand out by itself. It was a wooden, two-story building, Victorian architecture style, late 1800s, set in a rural landscape outside Boston, normally a thirty-five-minute drive if she hadn’t gone way above all posted speed limits. Its shingles used to be white at some point.

She exhaled and contacted Vanessa Dogscape—an ATU data analyst, and currently married to her friend and coworker Felicity Walker. Perhaps Vanessa could help her—off the record. She didn’t want to involve the ATU. It took a while before Vanessa answered the phone.

“Sybil. You know what time it is?”

“I’m aware of what time it is. Look, I need your help. Harry’s been kidnapped by—I don’t know who. Anyway, they want me to do some errands.”

“My God!” Vanessa replied in a worried voice.

“I need you on this. But please, keep it off the record. I don’t want to endanger Harry’s life.”

“Sure. How can I help?”

“Perhaps you can pinpoint them somehow and get their location so I can kick some ass?”

“I need more intel before I can do anything,” Vanessa said.

“They contacted me via my cell phone and sent me a text message. Oh, and a picture of Harry’s battered face.” She gritted her teeth at the thought.

“Send the text message and the picture to me. And please activate the ATU app Felicity programmed three years ago for your Windows Phone, so I can tap into each conversation and perhaps ping their location while you talk to them. Are you sure you want me to help you off the record? It’s better to make this an official ATU investigation. At least, let me inform Jack.”

Sybil closed her eyes for a moment. If the criminals found out she had informed the ATU, it’d complicate things. Perhaps endanger Harry’s life. But then again, she sure could use all the help she could get. Otherwise, she wouldn’t bother Vanessa with it. Taking that into consideration, and the knowledge that Jack was a professional, Sybil agreed to Vanessa’s suggestion.

Despite the sun in a clear, blue sky, her body responded with a shiver that ran down her spine. She did not know what to expect as she stood near the abandoned mansion with its weather-beaten, cracked walls covered in pointless graffiti. But she knew she had to go inside as she sat down on her haunches, studying the rusty sword
lying in the mud. She took a deep breath before she carefully touched its sticky
handle. Blood! Clotted blood.

Her stomach gnawed at the sight. She smelled. It wasn’t human. She stared at the mansion as she heard a strange sound she couldn’t identify. Immediately, her old instincts kicked in—weird sounds coming from an abandoned mansion equals danger. She grabbed the sword in both hands, jumped up, kicked the battered door wide open and ran inside. It was time to act; this was no time to be cautious. Lives were at
stake.

The wooden planks creaked under her feet as she rushed into the dark hallway. The sound of rasping breathing reached her eardrums when she entered a dark room with just enough light to see the overturned furniture and the bloodstained, fractured walls …

Author Interview

What do you love most about the genre you write?

I love to combine multiple genres together as one. For instance, one of the main characters in my book: “Pandemic: Chaos is Bleeding” is Sybil Crewes. A vampire who hates being a vampire (horror genre). But she’s also a part-time ATU (Anti-Terrorism Unit) agent, to keep America safe from terrorist attacks (thriller genre).

Combining these two genres makes a story more vivid. Rather than fighting monsters, Sybil also faces terrorists with the help of her friends from the ATU and from a Medical Examiner working for the coroner’s office in Boston.

Blending two genres into one makes my books unique. I don’t use classical horror themes—no religion, no vampires turning into bats, or sleeping in a coffin during the day. Sybil clips her fangs and use liquid silver (kind of like colloidal silver, but with a higher percentage of silver particles) daily to pass on for a human and eat solid food.

Where do you find inspiration for your stories?

I find my inspiration in the news. The news is my most important tool to blend reality with fiction. If I find an interesting article on a news website, I do a lot of background research. Like the pandemic and fake news—before I write. I love to combine reality with fiction. I also use personal elements in my story.

I see you like Edgar Allan Poe. If you had to pick one of his stories as a favorite, which would it be and why?

I grew up reading books from Edgar Allan Poe. As a kid, I enjoyed watching movies starring Vincent Price adaptations of The Pit and the Pendulum, Tales of Terror, The Raven, and The Masque of the Red Death.

The story I loved most, back in the days, is “The Pit and the Pendulum.”

It’s a story about the torments endured by a prisoner of the Spanish Inquisition. The narrator describes his experience of being tortured. What I liked about it, is that the story is effective at inspiring fear in the reader because of its heavy focus on the senses, such as sound…

Can you tell us about your furry writing companion?

Max is a three-year-old free roam small tan rabbit—our condo is bunny proof—and he loves to be petted on his head. He’s my best friend, and he asks daily for attention. I love giving him that. He follows me around like a dog when I stand up from the couch to get something from the fridge. Max doesn’t like carrots. When I try to offer him a carrot, he gives me the look. Which is a good thing because I read carrots have too much sugar in them. His favorite snack is Timothy Hay.

Before I go to bed, or when it’s 7:30 a.m., I lie down next to him and talk about anything that bothers me. He’s a great listener, and he knows how to keep a secret.

And I partly wrote my book on my cell phone while lying next to Max.

If you could give one piece of advice to anyone pursuing their dream in the creative arts, what would it be?

The best advice I can think of is this: write everything that pop-ups in your head. Don’t overthink it. Just write. Read it back the next day, scrap the parts you don’t like, rewrite some of it (don’t overdo this), and prepare yourself to send your story to a few people. Listen to what they say about your writing. And don’t be annoyed about critics.

About the Author:

 
As far back as she can remember, Cynthia Fridsma has been listening to exciting stories told by her mother. She grew up reading books by Edgar Allan Poe, H. P. Lovecraft, and Philip K. Dick, among others. It was Cynthia’s mother who inspired her to start telling—and writing—her own stories.

Ms. Fridsma’s writing career started after a handicap in 2014—she has a tremor in her right hand, numbness in the fingers, and pain in her wrist. She had to give up her other creative outlets, such as photography, computer programming, and gave up on juggling, so focused on what she could do rather than what she couldn’t do. Besides writing, she sometimes plays guitar—in Jimi Hendrix style.

 
Cynthia lives with her husband and pet bunny, Max, in Amsterdam.