Showing posts with label horror story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horror story. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Book 9 is Here! Instant Downloads

 Shattered Dreams
Life After War Book 9

Book 9 is Live! The links are at the bottom of this post.

Dear Beta Readers and ARC Readers,
Please post your review on any of the sites below. Don't forget to mention that you received a free review copy or that you were a beta reader. Thank you! Have a great week!

Shattered Dreams
Book 9 of the Life After War series



Amazon USA


Amazon Canada


Amazon United Kingdom

Amazon Australia


Amazon India


Amazon Germany


Author


Kobo


Nook


iTunes

 

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Sunday Story Trilogy-#2- Easter Surprises-Violence caution





For the holiday, many people do romance or family bonding type stories. I thought I’d swing far right of that and give you something horrible and poetically wrong, yet perfectly right.

Warning: There is violence in this story. There is also a child in this story. You do the math.


 


Easter Surprises



"Slap!"


The girl's tears were silent as she cowered on the carpet of the living room, wincing at every word shouted inches from her terrified face.


"I'm up now! Get your damned basket!"
The 7 year old scrambled back, avoiding the sweeping hand but not the foot and it caught her in the hip, bringing a dull flare of pain.


"Worthless kid!"



Out in the cool air, the girl lingered outside by the meager Easter Basket, candy untouched, tears dried to her red cheeks. She could still hear her mother's loud voice inside, complaining about being woken up early, and the neighbor's were staring openly through their trailer window, but Madeline knew better than to think they might help her. Other kids in the park had the same life and while everyone whispered, no one helped. They had no one to stand for them.


"You do now."


The little girl looked around with startled eyes, only to find a snow bound trailer park.


"Maddie."


Right by her feet now, she looked down to see a large rabbit. Longer than her foot, taller than the old tom her mom threw rocks at, the bunny was big and dark gray, with large black eyes.


"Hello."


The child blinked. Its mouth had moved!
"You talk!"
The rabbit nodded, pointed a paw under the skirt-less mobile home.
"Come with me. I can help you and your friends."


The animal hopped casually out of her sight. "Come on, Maddie. Let's play a game called teach the grownups to be nicer."


Torn, the little girl went slowly and when the neighbors saw her disappear behind the concrete supports under the trailer, they closed their curtains, thinking she was smart to give her mom time to cool off. The untouched basket of Easter candy didn't raise any alarm.


It did with her mom hours later, but not the worry kind that makes you think something bad may have happened, but the annoyed kind that said someone wasn't where they were supposed to be. When she began screaming the girl’s name, the neighbors thought of telling her where the child was but didn't. It sounded like she hadn't cooled off very much.


"Madeline!"


The little girl didn't answer and her red face was tight with concentration.


"Just blow and think. That's it."


The rabbit handed her a small pouch and the girl quickly grabbed a fist of the gold and black powder.


"Madeline! So help me girl!"


The Mother was close and the rabbit laid a comforting paw on her foot when she trembled.


"Do this Maddie, and she'll never hurt you again. I promise."


The girl nodded, eyes clenched shut and when she blew the dust into the cold air, it sparked, flashing into a ball of brilliant flames that covered the child from head to foot. A second later, the grinning rabbit was gone and the girl was being roughly yanked from an under the trailer.


"Damn kid! Didn’t you hear me yelling?"


The woman shook the girl wildly but her motions slowed as she got a look at her daughter’s face.


The child smiled, pretty blue eyes turning red, teeth growing, becoming hungry fangs.
"I hear you now, Momma!" 


The child's attack was merciless, her long claws ripping into warm flesh and as the body fell, the neighbor's curtains swung shut and the girl headed casually toward her best friend’s home.


Mandy's dad liked to hug her and touch her a lot. It was time he learned to keep his hands to himself. Then, she'd show Mandy the dust and they would go to Jacob. When there were enough of them, they would take care of the other evil-doers, the ones who watched but didn't help. Their turn was coming.







(Renee has been a guest on C9 Virtual Tours)






“I want you to find my dead husband.”


“Excuse me?”


That was my first reaction.


“I want you to find my husband. He’s dead, and I need to know where he is.” She spoke in a voice one sexy note below middle C.


“Uh-huh.” That was my second reaction. Really slick.


Moments before, when I saw her standing in the outer room, waiting to come into my office, I had the feeling she’d be trouble. And now, with that intro, I knew it.


“He’s dead, and I need you to find him.”


If she wasn’t tired of the repetition, I was, but I couldn’t seem to get my mouth working. She sat in the cushy black leather chair on the other side of my desk, exhaling money with every sultry breath. She had beautiful blond hair with just a hint of darker color at the roots, blue eyes like a cold mountain lake, and a smile that would slay Adonis. I’d like to say that a beautiful woman couldn’t influence me by her beauty alone. I’d like to say it, but I can’t.





 



Mementoes of Mai by Helmy kusuma
Non-Fiction


(Helmy has also been a guest of C9 VT)





A mundane office life is suddenly changed into something entirely different in a flick of a hand. Helmy's visit to Viet Nam made him face the beauties he long forgot, and now he must make up his mind to pursue the love of his life...



Would he be able to reconcile his past and his present to step into the unknown territory of the probable future? Could he bridge the space between himself and his love?

Follow Helmy as he recounts the defining and beautiful moment in his life, through the river and the cove of Viet Nam, across the sea to Bali, and Jakarta.


Fictitiously, of course.



You guys have a safe Sunday.


Next Week: Invasion



"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?
Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors
*Free on all retailers

Sunday, November 27, 2011

The Caller -A New, Unpublished Story!

The family of four had been surviving on their own since the War of 2012.

Five years had gone by, the last two without them seeing another person and there were no signs of their old world returning.

The bombs had made most of the land unlivable. The radiation and mutations had spread quickly and this small group was all that remained of normal life for hundreds of miles around their small cabin in. Set in the hills of Kentucky, it was a sturdy, nearly airtight shelter that had saved them the fate of their neighbors.
“What are ww..we hunt…ttiiin, daddy?”

The seven year olds stutter was painful to hear. It made the man’s heart hurt but he smiled at the golden haired child. “Turkey. It’s Christmas.”

That was something new and the boy grew appropriately quiet as they crept closer to the pond’s edge. Their movements were and slow and careful and yet wrong, like something was wrong with their legs. The lack of fresh food was taking its toll.

“Gobble.”

 The noise brought a smile to both their dirty faces and the father silently pulled his sharpened walking stick from the pack on his back.

“Gobble.”

“Sniff. Gobble.”

The sounds weren't right either, even for this post apocalyptic hell but the hunters paid it little mind as they sprang up from behind the decaying water plants.

“Dad!”

Too late,  they saw the wolves and the wild canines lunged toward them, leaving the looted duck nest.

“Get down!”

The father swung his hand, where a flashing blade now began to blaze through the air. On a tightly wound rope, the sound of the Caller echoed for miles.

“Oohhh.!’

It was a howling, high pitched whine with horribly loud tones that made the boy cover his deformed ears.

The wolves reacted with confusion too, whimpering, and the man swung it harder.

“Whoo…”

It went higher and the predators began to back up, snarling their fury. It drove them back with only sound used and the small pack ducked into the underbrush with a last lingering glare.

:oohhh…!”

It was spinning nearly out of control now and the man forced his fingers to let go. The object was not totally inanimate and the sound lingered for a moment even after it slid into the grass. It made an awful moan as it ended, leaving an amazed silence.

“It worked!"

The child’s speech was clear as a bell and the father watched him run gracefully to the Caller. His eyes widened. The ears were normal!

The child flashed him a grin, an intelligent grin and the father struggled to breathe. What magic was this?

“The book was right, daddy!”

Not a trace of slur. The man took the object carefully, stunned. Now he knew what the inscription meant. “Your heart’s wish if it is pure.” He’d just been thinking how much he loved his son despite the deformities and flaws. And his wish had been granted! The boy was healed!



Later that evening, the man sat by the fire with a tattered notebook in his hand, listening to his wife and children talk as they prepared a holiday feast with almost no food. He thumbed through the brittle pages absently. Had it’s author survived?

Angela’s Journal.

The man rubbed his sore wrist thoughtfully. So many of the things in it were true! What if the people were also? A refuge for survivors.

“No turkey?”

“No, honey.” The nine year old girl nodded resignedly, thin shoulders drooping.

“Oh. Okay.”

The man’s gust twisted with the need to do something. A refugee camp would have food and vitamins and water. He ran a calloused thumb over the journal’s weather beaten cover. The directions said always southeast. Surely a group that big wouldn’t be hard to find?

“I’m thankful anyway, momma. Cause Alex got fixed. Now, he can run!"

“We all are darling. We all are.”

The wolves had trapped them, starved them. His wrist ached deeper. Had. Now, there might be a way out and some magic to ease the trip.

“Love you, momma.”

“Love you too, sissy.”

“What about me?”

The three of them hugged, exchanging their emotions and the man could take no more. He stood up, ragged journal clenched tightly in his grip.

 “Pack it up, woman. “ The hope in his voice shocked them all.

“We leave for Safe Haven at first light.”

Check out the book this is based on.




"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?
Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors
*Free on all retailers

 

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Under Attack (DF Tuesday Excerpt)



“Don’t move!”
Her tone froze him with his hands splayed out in the dirt. He sensed movement near his fingers as she slowly drew her weapon.
“Roll to your right when I start, and come up firing. Targets at ten, two and three.”
Marc heard the soft pad of paws, more than one, and watched her eyes for the moment to react.
“Shit. Two more at 12 o’ clock,” Angela watched the three lanky, gray-and-white wolves, trying to judge their intentions. When a big black-and-gold animal she hadn’t seen lunged toward from the shadows, there was only time to react.
Angela fired, a bit wildly on the first few shots, and one of the rounds caught the wolf in mid-leap, slamming into its chest. It landed on the ground with a hard thud as Marc rolled and hit his feet, began to fire.
“Watch your six!” he warned, immediately sure they were pack-hunting. He put them back to back as the brittle stalks around them swayed with barely seen movement. The sky had begun to darken as they worked out, but neither had worried, used to being in the dark, but this time they had let dangerous predators get close.
Suddenly, they were under attack, moving eyes gleaming at them through the dusk-tinted rows. They fired at the same time, dropping two wolves that had jumped from opposite sides.
A dark shadow appeared at her hip, and Angela stopped herself from shooting as she recognized Dog. Her eyes narrowed on a stocky white wolf running in and out of the distant, yellow stalks. Before she could take aim on the leader, another shadow streaked past her.
“Damn it!” Again, she kept herself from firing by only a hair. “Dog just went to my right, chasing the white one.”
Marc nodded, turning them to face another duel attack meant to separate. They came in low, lunging for legs, and both shots killed, but two more hungry hunters jumped at Angela, coming fast.
“Duck!” she shouted, firing. She got the low animal in the chest as the other went sailing overhead, and she heard Marc take care of it as more and more eyes shined mercilessly in the dimness. Wolves were now streaming through the corn like rats.
Making sure they stayed tightly against each other, Marc moved them in half circles, firing and kicking at those not hungry enough to lunge, but still bold enough to snap. He could feel Angela doing the same behind him, her grunts and shots mirroring his.
Flames rose up behind them suddenly, Marc catching a tall shadow from the corner of his eye as he turned, shot a leaping wolf in the chest, turned, and killed a snapping wolf going for Angie’s leg.
More fire erupted, along with the pungent smell of gasoline as full darkness fell over them, and some of the wolves hesitated, but not those hungry frontrunners.
Angela jerked forward, stiff-arming a determined predator in the throat. Her gun was empty and she knew by the silence behind her that Marc's was too. Drooling, fur bushed up, the wolves moved closer with hungry eyes.
Angela fumbled for the speed loader on her belt, and Marc turned them again, slamming his in as two more wolves lunged. He caught one in the neck, blood spraying, and shoved them backwards in time to let the second animal go sailing by.
“Incoming!”
Reloaded, Angela shot the wolf as it hit the hard ground and fired at eyes in the air, then the flames were between her and the corn as Marc rotated them again. Shadows lunged, coming through gaps in the wall of fire, and she picked them off, assuming Brady’s silent gun meant he was reloading.
Marc stared intently at the hulking man intently, the 3/4 circle of flames discouraging many of the animals. The newcomer was gigantic, eight by five it seemed like, and yet he was light on his feet as he poured the last of the gasoline to close the gaps.
“Stay inside,” the big man instructed gruffly without turning, voice heavy under his furs and hood.
Before Marc could say anything, Angela spun around, six shots gone. She gasped in surprise at the big man, but just like Marc, her fingers didn’t stop. She had to be ready when he turned them again.
“On your right, woman!”
She slammed the clip home and fired without looking, almost able to hear the slobbering jaws about to clamp down on her ankle. A heavy body thudded to the ground.
“Dog! Guard her!” Marc shouted, firing.
The wolf appeared at her side, bloody muzzle snarling viciously at two more animals trying to sneak through a thin gap in the fire wall.





"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?
Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors
*Free on all retailers

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