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Saturday, 31 October 2015

If you like #horror #suspense novels, check out this extract from The Dead Letter

Excerpt from the book
Finley Martin

It’s night. Always night. Dreams guard against the evil forged by nightmares. Infinite shooting stars illuminate a moonless sky. A city stands alone, surrounded by a darkened field. On its fringes, a man watches one star separate from the masses and fall. What survives the crash will unveil a secret centuries long hidden.
Molly hasn’t slept well since the night of her twenty-fourth birthday. Being struck by lightning might have something to do with it, but then again, her chicken did look a little undercooked at dinner. Whatever the culprit, her life quickly catapults from mundane to insane as, night after night, Molly is transported through her once dreamless sleep to a mysterious land illuminated by shooting stars.
There she meets the captivating but frustrating Dev, and together they discover Molly possesses a power coveted by his people—the ability to conjure almost anything she desires into existence. Seduced by the possibilities of this gift, Molly shifts her attention from waking life toward the man, the magic, and the world found in her dreams.
But Molly must ask herself—does something truly exist if you only see it when you close your eyes?
Faced with the threat of losing everything—her job, best friend, boyfriend, and most importantly, that little thing called her sanity—Molly will learn just how far she’ll go to uncover what is real and what is merely a figment of her imagination.
It is 2001 and the police constable's girlfriend is murdered in a fit of jealous rage. When the constable realizes what he has done, he manages an elaborate cover-up. Only one person knows the truth. Flash forward to 2012. Anne Brown is still running her late uncle, Bill Darby's, detective agency after spending four or five years as his assistant.

 One day, the postman delivers an eleven year-old letter. The letter is addressed to her uncle from a woman named Carolyn Jollimore. She says she has evidence about a murder and begs for help from Darby. But Bill Darby is dead. And when Anne looks up the letter's author, she finds that Jollimare too is now dead. Troubled with the evidence at hand, Anne must decide if she should investigate this eleven-year old murder.

Finley Martin was born in Binghamton, New York and grew up in Scranton, Pennsylvania.  He received a B.A. degree in English at the University of Scranton, and during the 1960’s he served as an officer with the United States Marine Corps at posts in America, the Caribbean, and Asia.

After he returned to civilian life, he worked as a free-lance writer, p.r. consultant, and photographer and became public relations director at International Correspondence Schools.

In the 70’s he received an M.A. from the University of Ottawa and a B.Ed. from the University of Prince Edward Island.  For many years he taught English literature at high school and writing courses at university.  He has also worked as a truck driver, labourer, carpenter, boat builder, and deckhand aboard commercial fishing vessels and passenger ferries.

During his writing career he published numerous magazine and newspaper articles, poetry, and short stories in Canada and the U.S.  He produced a mini-series for CBC Radio and has given numerous poetry readings.

He authored three books: New Maritime Writing, Square Deal Pub., Charlottetown, PE; A View from the Bridge, Montague, PE; and The Reluctant Detective, The Acorn Press, Charlottetown, PE.

Thursday, 29 October 2015

If you like #scifi #horror novels, check out this extract from Nightscape: Cynopolis

Excerpt from the book
Nightscape: Cynopolis
David W. Edwards 

By the time they approached the old Packard Automotive Plant, Von thought they’d lost the creature. There’d been too many vague glimpses on darkened streets and abrupt reversals of direction. Every shadow had become a living thing, every distant movement a sign. It was as if the creature existed only in hints and patches.

“There we go!” Teyo called out. “The trees!” His inner coil tightened. This was the kind of excitement he’d been craving.

Von spun the SUV onto Medbury Street. He spied what could have been the creature’s humped back in the shadow-flicker of sickly gum and ash trees. Un-fucking-believable.

“That’s it,” Deliza said from the backseat, a cell phone to her ear. She kept her voice low in case an emergency dispatcher came on the line. She’d been on hold for over five minutes. Not unusual in a city where the average police response time was almost an hour.

Von slowed the vehicle, positioning its headlights for maximum coverage. Nothing stirred the sultry air. Not a murmur sounded. The foliage was like a mess of Rorschach-blots. Von tensed for the creature to burst from its hide in a killing rage. Seconds stretched into ages. He couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t right there. The fitful beating in his chest was everything.

Detroit’s eastside has seen its share of horrors.
Once-proud factories gutted for scrap. Whole neighborhoods burned out and boarded up. Nature drained of color. 
But nothing like this: a thought-virus that turns the city’s dogs feral and its underclass into jackal-headed beasts.

The city erupts in chaos and nightmare violence. Communication in or out is impossible. The skies fill with lethal drone copters and airships bristling with heavy-duty cannon. Abandoned to their separate fates among hordes of monsters, the few surviving humans must find a way to elude the military blockade preventing their escape or to defeat the virus at its source—before government forces sacrifice them all.
Breakneck action, rogue science and deft portraiture combine for a grand and gripping tale of urban terror.

David W. Edwards is the writer, director and producer of the feature film Nightscape and author of the novels Nightscape: The Dreams of Devils and Nightscape: Cynopolis. He attended the University of Southern California's prestigious screenwriting program and earned bachelor's and master's degrees in English Literature while working for a variety of Hollywood production companies. He's the founder and former CEO of a successful high-tech market research firm, and a former two-term state representative. He currently lives in Hillsboro, Oregon with his family.
 Website  /  Facebook  /  Twitter  /  Goodreads  /  YouTube

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Monday, 26 October 2015

If you like #romcom, check out this extract from Dying to be Slim

Excerpt from 
Dying to be Slim
Abby Beverley
Clara’s wide fingers stabbed around until she located the top of the offending item on the right hand side of her body. It was definitely a zip. Clara couldn’t see it but she knew its spikey feel from the countless times she’d zipped up anoraks and school bags for her children. She managed to secure a clumsy grasp on the top of the zip and slowly, by holding in her breath and moving gently, she pulled it down and down and down…

From ribs to hip, Clara’s flesh painlessly divided with the parting of each zip tooth. When it reached its maximum aperture, a soft manicured hand with long red nails flexed and pulled as if grabbing an invisible rope. Following the hand, a supple, well-toned arm and beneath the arm, a long, strong leg climbing as if from a well or similar hole in the ground. With a final boost, the symbiont ejected completely to a crouching panther position and Clara found herself peering down at an attractive, slender woman whose green eyes sparkled excitedly!

 By the age of eighteen, Clara finds herself a single mother to two sets of twins. With her own mother absent from early childhood and the death of her father in her late teens, food becomes Clara’s crutch.

Several decades on, Clara has a new partner and a fifth child. She oozes love and pride towards her flawless family, despite the fact that she is now thirty-four stone and housebound.

Reach Abby Beverley on Twitter via @Author_Beverley. 
She is also on Facebook under: Abby Beverley or Dying To Be Slim (they're linked).

Thursday, 22 October 2015

If you like #scifi #robot books, check out the #extract from Rarity from the Hollow

An excerpt from 
Rarity from the Hollow
Robert Eggleton
Inside her first clubhouse, Lacy Dawn glanced over fifth grade spelling words for tomorrow’s quiz at school.  She already knew all the words in the textbook and most others in any human language……….
……. Faith lay beside her with a hand over the words and split fingers to cheat as they were called off…….. 
….."Test?" Lacy Dawn announced with the better light, and called off, "Poverty."
            "P is for poor.  O is for oranges from the Salvation Army Christmas basket. V is for varicose veins that Mommy has from getting pregnant every year. E is for everybody messes up sometimes -- sorry.  R is for I'm always right about everything except when you tell me I'm wrong -- like now.  T is for it’s too late for me to pass no matter what we do and Y is for you know it too."……
            ……."Faith, it's almost dark!  Go home before your mommy worries," Lacy Dawn's mother yelled from the front porch…….
  A minute later, hand in hand, they walked the road toward Faith's house….. 
            “……..Besides, he don't like me that way.  He's like a friend who's a teacher – not a boyfriend.  I just wanted you to know that I get extra help learning stuff."
            "Where's he live?"
            Lacy Dawn pointed to the sky with her free hand.
            "Jesus is everybody's friend," Faith said.
            "It ain't Jesus, you moron," Lacy Dawn turned around to walk home.  “His name’s DotCom and….” 
Her mother watched from the middle of the road until both children were safe……

Rarity from the Hollow is a children’s story for adults.
 Lacy Dawn's father relives the Gulf War, her mother has lost her teeth, and her best friend is killed by her own father.

Life in The Hollow in West Virginia isn't great. But Lacy Dawn has one advantage-she's been befrended by a semi-organic semi-robot (DotCom, alias Buddy) who works with her to 'cure' her parents. 
Buddy wants something in exchange, though. It's up to Lacy Dawn to save the universe, but Lacy Dawn isn't an ordinary eleven year old, in fact she isn't eleven years old at all.
She has evolved under the supervision of Universal Management for hundreds of thousand of years.
But can she save the universe?

Robert Eggleton has served as a children's advocate in an impoverished state for over forty years. He is best known for his investigative reports about children’s programs, most of which were published by the West Virginia Supreme Court where he worked from 1982 through 1997, and which also included publication of models of serving disadvantaged and homeless children in the community instead of in large institutions, research into foster care drift involving children bouncing from one home to the next -- never finding a permanent loving family, and statistical reports on the occurrence and correlates of child abuse and delinquency. 

Today, he is a recently retired children's psychotherapist from the mental health center in Charleston, West Virginia, where he specialized in helping victims cope with and overcome physical and sexual abuse, and other mental health concerns. Rarity from the Hollow is his debut novel and its release followed publication of three short Lacy Dawn Adventures in magazines: Wingspan Quarterly, Beyond Centauri, and Atomjack Science Fiction. 

Author proceeds have been donated to a child abuse prevention program operated by Children’s HomeSociety of West Virginia. Robert continues to write fiction with new adventures based on a protagonist that is a composite character of children that he met when delivering group therapy services. The overall theme of his stories remains victimization to empowerment.

Friday, 16 October 2015

If you like #syfy #alien #romance books check out this extract from EDEN

Excerpt from the book 
Louise Wise

Dizziness swamped her. Then sunlight fell on her in a burst of fresh, cold air as the door opened. She opened her eyes, and tried to speak but found her voice was nothing but a gurgle, and could only watch, helpless, as Bodie and Matt stared open-mouthed.
They staggered backwards, shouting and swearing, before spinning around and running towards the base of the depression.
Jenny was hurled to the floor. Winded, but managing to crawl outside, she glimpsed Bodie turning to look and calling for her to run. Matt picked up a rock and threw it at the alien as it ran towards them.
She made to stand, but dizziness swamped her again. Trying to ignore the sensation, she staggered away from the spacecraft, but the ground shifted under her feet. Time was measured for Jenny, yet around her things were moving fast.
‘Jen! Move!’ yelled Bodie. The alien was in between her and the two men who, by now, were at the top of the crater. She couldn’t see them anymore, but could hear Bodie yelling.
‘Go! Go! GO!’ she yelled, the movement making her eyesight pixilate. She gritted her teeth against the dizziness and stood. ‘I’m coming!’
‘She’s behind us,’ yelled Matt from somewhere in the distance. ‘Get in your buggy, Bo. Get the fuck in!’
Then, the ground rose up and her head struck a lump of metal debris protruding from the ground.
There was no more shouting. All was quiet and peaceful. Jenny opened her eyes and, in a sudden moment of realisation, she flipped to her side and looked to the top of the hill. With a sick feeling of dread, she rose and scrambled to the top of the crater. It felt like a mountain, and she slipped several times. Expecting to find Bodie and Matt dead; their bodies torn in frenzy under the clawed hands of the alien, she was relieved to find the men and the buggies were gone.
A glint of sunlight reflecting on something in the sky caught her eye. The buggies, now small space shuttles, were on their journey back to Taurus, as if being hauled back up by an invisible string.
Jenny climbed into her buggy. With shaking hands, she pressed the controls; nothing happened. She spoke into the transmitter, but remembered that Kate was malfunctioning.
Her buggy was immobilised.
‘Shit,’ she said. She pressed more buttons on the screen display. She pumped the accelerator, but nothing happened. She couldn’t even close the buggy up; instead, it remained open-topped.
She climbed back out, her hands in her hair as panic momentary claimed her.
‘It’s OK,’ she repeated to herself. ‘It’s OK. It’s OK. Breathe.’
Her forehead hurt; she touched it, expecting her fingers to come away bloody, but they were dry. A lump was beginning to protrude, though, and she suspected she had alien finger-marks around her throat.
She glanced around her. Might it be possible that the alien had gained access to one of the buggies and was inside Taurus? Kate was programmed to destroy an intruder immediately, but…
She closed her eyes briefly. She couldn’t think that way. She climbed back inside the buggy. She’d be OK. Bodie would realise she’d been left behind. He’d override Kate to get her buggy operational. She’d wait.
She looked upward at the now empty blue sky.
Won’t be long, she thought. Around her, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart. It was a lonely sound. She sat for a long time with her head tilted back, looking up at the vastness, the emptiness, of the sky.

  Imprisoned for brutal crimes against his wardens, Fly became an unwilling experiment and was transported, with other criminals, to a hostile planet. Full of mutiny, anger and a desire for revenge the experiment was never going to be successful and Fly became the only survivor when the craft crashed.

Then the human ship arrived -- and Jenny.
Eden  book #1  Hunted  book #2

With a malfunctioning spacecraft she was in for a fight for her life, but her problems were only just beginning when her crewmates abandon her on Eden.

Jenny's on her own... or so she thinks.

Eden can be read as a stand-alone novel. Hunted is the follow-up to Eden and needs to be read in sequence.