A Life Through Books

Friday, May 4, 2018

Virtual Book Tour: Durable Goods by @pmhale_ #review and #giveaway of the #thriller Novel.
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Book #2 of the Cole and Callahan Thriller Series

Thriller
Date Published: April 15, 2018
Publisher: Intrigue Publishing

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Detective John Stark approaches the PI team of Griff Cole and Britt Callahan with a postcard he’s sure is from his estranged daughter, Kira. She’s been listed as a runaway for three years by Portland, Maine police, but John isn’t convinced that her continued absence is by choice. As Stark’s long-time friends, Cole and Callahan agree to look into the postcard marked only with the letters O.K.

The postmark leads them to Oracles of the Kingdom, a farm where women sell fresh produce in return for a fresh start with God. But nothing seems right about the town or the farm and Britt goes undercover to look for Kira. Once inside, she realizes Oracles of the Kingdom is not the refuge it appears. And when she's trafficked over the Canadian border she’s on her own, over her head and losing clarity between hero and victim.

Review

If you are wanting a wild ride that keeps you guessing, this is for you. It's mostly a fast paced novel, especially in the beginning. It may slow down a bit, but I think that as you have to think a bit more about what is going on, that is needed. I would have been lost if it had kept up at the fast pace. 

Cults are something that have always fascinated me. I think that Patricia Hale manages to use both that and the Prostitution Ring and keep the novel quite fresh compared to other novels. That being said, this does cover some grittier topics, so be prepared. 

It was a solid Thriller with a great attention to the facts we needed more detail on.


About the Author


Patricia Hale received her MFA degree from Goddard College. Her essays have appeared in literary magazines and the anthology, My Heart’s First Steps. Her debut novel, In the Shadow of Revenge, was published in 2013. The Church of the Holy Child (9/17) is the first book in her PI series featuring the team of Griff Cole and Britt Callahan. The second book, Durable Goods, will be released April 15, 2018. Patricia is a member of Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, NH Writers Project and Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband and two dogs.



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Durable Goods by Patricia Hale

Durable Goods

by Patricia Hale

Giveaway ends May 06, 2018.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
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Sale Blast: The Mercenary
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SciFi Romance, Space Opera
Date Published: August 25, 2017
On Sale for $0.99 for the Blast!

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She's a prisoner of the Imperial Forces. He's a nomad with a mercenary army. Can her desperate gamble and a fierce warrior's love turn the tide of war and rewrite the destiny of their corner of the galaxy?

In a distant corner of the galaxy, Quadrant Five burns in the flames of a deadly war. The Budheya people are one of the worst affected.

Saakshi
Imprisoned by the Ketaari Imperial Forces, a young Budheya rebel is sent to a distant space station to work in an alehouse. For a girl who has known only hardship in her short life, things could be worse. Until an old foe walks into the alehouse.

Zoran
Zoran is Hadari'Kor - notoriously fierce mercenaries who only fight for hire. Drawn to a weary-eyed server girl, Zoran is forced to confront age-old traditions and question his role in the war.

The Rebel & The Mercenary
Alone, friendless and far from home, Saakshi makes a desperate gamble to trust an enigmatic stranger whose hot gaze haunts her dreams. The echoes of this unlikely alliance reverberate across the quadrant. As a relentless enemy hunts Saakshi, Zoran must fight with everything in his arsenal to protect her. When passion ignites amidst the embers of a smoldering war, will a warrior's quest for justice bring a mighty Empire to its knees ...

Author's Note : A spirited and resilient girl, a fierce warrior with a mighty heart, a fiery passion that flares amidst the debris of a deadly war and a love that will alter the fate of an entire quadrant.
This is a standalone story that sets the scene for The War Chronicles - a collection of futuristic SciFi Romance & Space Opera tales with passionate love stories and swashbuckling adventure.

The book has been nominated for Ind’Tale Magazine’s 2018 RONE Award in the Sci-Fi/Time Travel category.






Excerpt

The Unta-Golar clipped away the device before sauntering over unhurriedly to stare down at Saakshi, on her knees on the station’s dirt-crusted floor. She raised pain-filled eyes to the Ketaari officer, unwilling to cower before him. He flashed her a cruel smile before swinging a meaty fist at her. Saakshi closed her eyes in defeat, her pain-wracked body unable to garner the strength to move itself clear of the inevitable blow.

The blow never landed. Instead, Saakshi heard the distinct sounds of a scuffle, followed by some heavy blows. When she dared to open her eyes moments later, the Unta-Golar lay in an awkward tangle in a corner of the alley, caged in by two adjoining walls and the massive body of the Hadari’Kor Captain. The Hadari’Kor male leaned threateningly over the Ketaari Unta-Golar, whose stocky body cowered back against the wall. The Ketaari male’s legs lay sprawled out, one heel drumming uncontrollably on the floor in distress. One of his arms lay bent at an unnatural angle, and pale blue blood seeped sluggishly from cuts to his forehead ridges and the corner of his mouth. His eyes stared wildly up at the Captain, while his good arm alternated between pounding ineffectually on the Captain’s shoulder and trying to claw away the large hand that squeezed his throat inexorably. The Captain had crowded the other male into a corner to brace himself against the wall with one hand, while his other hand, wrapped around the Unta-Golar’s throat, throttled him slowly.

That this entire scene was enacted in complete silence by participants and spectators alike made it seem almost surreal to the Budheya girl watching it play out dispassionately. Saakshi allowed herself to slowly slide down to rest on her bottom, splaying out her legs before her with palms braced against the floor to support her weight. She leaned back comfortably on her hands, content to watch the unfolding show.

Thank the Pura, he came. Better late than never, I guess.

From her position, she could clearly see every expression reflected on the Unta-Golar’s face, but not the Captain’s, whose back faced her.

“This is for using the pain implant, Ketaari murtobak” the Captain bit out in sudden fury, his words breaking the silence in the narrow alley.

He flicked off the fist pounding on his shoulder with a casual shrug as he stared down at the Unta-Golar.

“If you ever touch her again, I will personally break every bone in your body. Are we clear?” the coldly furious voice demanded of the Ketaari.

The Ketaari male stared back at him with vicious eyes, his expression uncowed. The Captain casually exerted a little more pressure around the Unta-Golar’s windpipe, and the Ketaari’s legs went limp, his face turning bloodless and pale.

“Are we clear?” the Captain repeated, more softly this time.

The Ketaari nodded, his pale eyes a tad unfocussed, though the expression on his face promised retribution. The Captain finally let go of his punishing hold on the other male’s throat, to leave the Ketaari limp and panting on the floor. The Hadari’Kor male sprang to his feet fluidly, turning his back on the male gasping for breath at his feet to stride over to Saakshi. For a moment, he gazed down at her in silence. An emotion she’d be hard-pressed to identify flashed though the tightly leashed fury on his face. The black eyes glittered with anger and something akin to regret.

“Are you hurt?” he asked gruffly.

Saakshi shook her head mutely.

“The pain implant?” he inquired, the black eyes holding her captive.

“The effect has worn off” she responded calmly.

“Come” he commanded, holding out his hand imperiously to her.

Saakshi retrieved the piece of control panel she’d used on the Ketaari to tuck it back in its usual hiding place in her boot. The black eyes watched her silently, the palm still held out to her. She allowed him to pull her up and steer her through the small crowd of spectators, a large palm at the small of her back guiding her.

They walked in silence towards his ship, stopping just once to attach the suppressor device to her bracelet to enable her to bypass the station’s exit sensors. Once they were alone in the shuttle and on their way to his docked ship, he turned to face her.

“I apologize for being late. It will not happen again.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet the regret in those dark eyes. Saakshi nodded to acknowledge his apology.

“You fight pretty well for a tiny female” he remarked approvingly after a short silence.

She managed a wan smile at the double-edged compliment.

“Who taught you …” he paused, before stating the obvious. “The rebels?”

She nodded mutely again.

“How much did you see?” she asked him.

“Enough” he gritted out, his teeth clenching.

“Didn’t they teach you when to run?” he inquired softly after a short pause.

“I was getting ready to, but he blindsided me with the pain implant.”

The Captain hit the shuttle wall with his open palm, cursing fluently and with ease in a variety of different languages.

“Son of a swine” she interjected, not wanting to be left out of the cursing party.

After an instant of stunned astonishment, his expression lightened.

“No doubt” he agreed, his dark eyes filling with soft laughter.

“Ketaari murtobak” she offered next, showing off the single word in his language she knew. She’d learnt it by paying attention to his cuss words, the ones she could decipher anyway.

“Absolutely” he gasped out, bursting into unfettered laughter. The effect was to make him look years younger without the serious and unapproachable mien he usually radiated.

“What does it mean?” she asked him, her eyes observing the laughter on his face.

“Unknown paternity” he responded, his face still lit up with amusement.






An avid reader all her life, only recently has Petra allowed her own imagination to run riot. She loves to travel, loves the outdoors and reads everything she can get her hands on, time permitting. Her taste in books is very eclectic – she tends to like stories with vivid and quirky characters that have elements of fantasy, adventure, romance and mystery interspersed together. A good book for her is one that makes the reader think long after it has been finished and set aside. And one that draws the reader back to it, again and again. To share the characters and tales that have lived in her imagination for so long is a labor of love and a lifelong dream come true for her.



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The book has been nominated for Ind’Tale Magazine’s 2018 RONE Award in the Sci-Fi/Time Travel category.

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Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Virtual Book Tour: A Gift and a Curse... Renata's Story @iptlr with my #review and a #giveaway
12:00 AM1 Comments


Romance
Date Published: April 21, 2018
Publisher: Independence Publishing, TLR


What does one do when your mind says go but your heart says stay?

In Stephanie Deniese Brown's third installment of her Wesson Family Saga, newly divorcee, Renata McKain-Christian learns if giving it up all in the name of love is either the best gift she'll ever receive or the curse she rather not face.

Renata, fresh off a divorce and ready to start a new life, with no distractions, finds immediate trouble the second she accepts a job from Carson Becker. Carson is established, powerful, and most of all rich. All the things Renata is not and that makes her feel unworthy of his love. But Carson doesn't care about her pocketbook, he sets out to capture Renata's mind, body, and soul. Just as he gets Renata to let her guard down and things start sizzling in the boardroom and the bedroom, secrets are unleashed that threaten to take away everything these two have built.

When power and insecurities threaten a relationship everything comes down to figuring out if the love you share is really a gift or a curse.


Review

This novel had a powerful main character and a powerful underlying perseverance. I liked the way the author set up the novel and the history she made sure to give the reader so that they came to understand the situation and characters.  

I felt like everything really flowed smoothly and led to an easy read. There are definitely some deeper moments throughout, there are ups and downs with real problems and authenticity. Its a solid Romance. 

About the Author


Stephanie Deniese Brown, a native of Hampton, VA has always loved creative writing. From romance to mystery, she has dipped her pen in all styles of writing.

Stephanie began writing her first novel when she was 21 years old. At first the story was for recreational purposes and was meant to live in Stephanie's computer. After researching how to publish a novel, Stephanie decided she wanted to release her masterpiece to the world. In 2005 she opened Independence Publishing, TLR and released "Skye's His Limit". The novel received high reviews from readers and Stephanie went back to the lab and released the second installment in her series, "Sable's Karma...The Secret's Out" in 2008. The novel placed as a finalist in the National Indie of Excellence Book Award. After a ten year hiatus, Stephanie is back on the scene and is releasing the highly anticipated third installment of the Wesson Family Saga.

Stephanie currently resides in Richmond with her husband, children, and her adorable cat CiCi. 


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Tuesday, May 1, 2018

Release Blitz: Moon Blood 2
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Vampire Fiction, Paranormal Fiction, Shifter Fiction
Date Published: 5/1/2018
Publisher: Troll River Publications

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Attacked by the werewolf nation, sworn vampire enemies, Kane and Moon are thrown into turmoil to defend themselves and those they love. With a stalking shifter network out to destroy them, every battle could be their last.

Traveling from Nova Scotia to Kane’s Italian Tuscany estate, they stand ground against their enemies. As they prepare to fight, a mysterious female attracts Kane. Who is she? Could she have ulterior motives? As Kane and Moon unravel the threat she poses, they realize the real reason behind the werewolves’ plot against them. Not a cookie cutter version of this genre, the mystery stays alive as McKibben once again raises the level of paranormal, narrated by a hybrid wolf. The result it a battle of strength, power, and ultimately, love.


About the Author

Carol McKibben writes from the heart of a dog’s eyes. Her books help support her dog rescue efforts and focus on unconditional love.
When Carol isn't saving Siberian Huskies, Labrador Retrievers, or feeding the horde of rescue dogs she and her husband Mark rehabilitate, she's out riding her sixteen-hand Frisian among the San Gabriel mountains.
 In addition to her passion for writing, she rides and competes with her dance partner Okido I.T. in Classical Dressage.

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Monday, April 30, 2018

PROMO: The Vampire Within
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Dark Vampire Fantasy
Date Published: March 2018
Publisher: Story Bound Publishing

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Brandon Cass is not your average teenager. He has a taste for blood—human blood. For sixteen years, he stumbled through life without a hitch until the enigmatic aroma of blood awakened something dark within him. Visions of a beautiful young woman with chocolate brown hair and ocean blue eyes haunt his mind, yet her identity is a puzzling mystery.

His hunger for blood strengthens, and the cravings become too powerful to control. No one is safe, not even his family. To safeguard all he once found dear, Brandon sets out on a quest for answers. In an unfamiliar city, he comes face-to-face with the beautiful young woman, confronts the dark force which controls him, and learns what he must endure to reclaim his soul.



Other Books in the Immortal Kiss Series:




Immortal Kiss
Immortal Kiss Series, Book One



Centuries ago ten powerful vampire gods first walked the earth; their blood thirst knew no boundaries. The destruction of mankind was inevitable. Recognizing their weakness, they selected twelve wise human beings to transform with their godly blood. These twelve, known as The Old Ones and The Council, govern The Ten. A blood lottery appeasing The Ten’s hunger was set forth into the human world and passed down every fifth generation, continuing into the present day.

All of Beth Ryan’s life a mysterious mist has watched over her; a mist she believed to be a vampire. On a cold winter night, Philippe Delon, a 700-year-old vampire walks into Beth’s life. She is drawn to him, certain he is the vampire behind the mist...but is he?

Beth and Philippe cannot deny their love for each other, nor do they try to fight it. Within days of their encounter, Beth accepts Philippe’s invitation to move into his mansion. The mansion unlocks the door to the vampire world and exposes secrets from Beth’s past. Within its walls, she learns the true identity of the mist, her link to the blood lottery, and betrayal of her loved ones. Surrounded by lies, Beth stands before The Council begging for resolution.







Bound by Blood
Immortal Kiss Series, Book Two


Five years crawled by at a painfully slow pace for young vampire, Beth; each year more agonizing than the next. The powerful unyielding spell which masked Amon’s whereabouts showed no signs of weakening.  Influenced by the binding ritual and Amon’s blood surging inside her, Beth will stop at nothing, and risk everything, to find him and turn the tables on Osiris, Isis, and Hathor.  In foggy streets of London, lives are threatened by a new breed of hunter, and nothing is what it seemed.  Beth once again finds herself surrounded by betrayal.  In the midst of it all, she is forced to choose between Philippe and Amon – knowing that her decision will change one life forever. But whose?









Excerpt


CHAPTER 1
              

I jumped out of bed at the very last second, took a quick shower, threw on some clothes and raced downstairs. As my mom nagged me about the time, I shoved a piece of toast in my mouth, washed it down with some OJ, then dashed out the door seconds before the school bus pulled up. As usual, my fellow classmates were taunting the new kid, Roger, and Mr. Gilbert, the bus driver, was yelling out his customary, “Knock it off!” at them. I flopped down in an empty seat at the back of the bus and let out a frustrated groan. Could my life be any more boring?

I dragged my feet as I made my way into Mrs. Clark’s history class and claimed my usual seat.  Whose bright idea was it to make history first period? Staying conscious while Mrs. Clark rambled on about a bunch of dead people who changed the world was near impossible. I slid farther down in my chair and was about to initiate full zone-out mode when Sam walked into class.

An electric jolt zapped me upright—I could smell her. The scent quickened my pulse and sent my heartbeat skyrocketing. My mouth watered as a feverish hunger growled in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t her perfumed skin or freshly shampooed hair. No, it was musky and unpleasant. It got under my skin, and I found it terribly distracting.

As Sam caught me staring, a proud smirk washed over her face. She tossed her golden-blonde hair over her shoulder and slid her slender body into the wooden desk in front of me, then turned around and locked eyes with me, her smug grin widening.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her distracting aroma swiftly traveled up my nose, lighting up my brain. Shivers scurried down my spine, spinning my head…what was that smell?

As Sam tugged playfully on my hair, she whispered, “I’ve been waiting forever for you to notice me, Brandon.” She paused, looking me up and down. “Meet me after class on the front steps.”

I didn’t hesitate to agree. “Okay.”

She winked. “I have a surprise for you.”

My stomach flip flopped and my palms grew sweaty. Surprise? I had no idea what she meant, but I sure as hell was gonna find out.

Sam’s smell manipulated my brain, blurring Mrs. Clark’s words together. Once, I got wasted at one of my parents’ Christmas parties. I’d chugged down every half-finished glass of beer, wine, or hard liquid abandoned on the table to the point where my head spun out of control. Sam’s scent mimicked that same effect. I wanted to gorge on it, whatever it was. The sudden ring of the school bell, announcing the end of first period, snapped me out of the muddled fog.

Sam touched my shoulder and whispered, “You go first and I’ll meet you there.”

I obeyed and headed straight for the front steps with my heartbeat throbbing inside my throat.

The breeze carried her fragrance. She was behind me; I knew it. My knees wobbled as I turned around.

Sam was inches from me, batting her eyelashes and smiling. She giggled and seized my trembling hand. “Come with me.” She steered me toward the park and away from the vigilant eyes at the school. Within the boundaries of the trees and their interlocking branches, we sat, facing each other.

“What’s my surprise?” I asked, my breath speeding up.

“A kiss.” She grinned sheepishly, then planted her lips over mine.

That smell of hers hammered at the inner walls of my brain. Every muscle twitched, and heat spread over my skin. I pulled away and blurted out, “What’s that smell? It’s driving me crazy!”

She flinched, and her cheeks flushed bright red. “You can smell me?”

“Yes.”

“I…I don’t know what to say. This is so embarrassing.” She looked away from me. “I’m on my period,” she whispered.

That was it—blood! Rich, dark, delicious blood! Wait, blood?  Delicious? Was it? I jammed my fingertips into my temples. Her scent was screwing with my head, but I had to taste her. Cupping her face, I kissed her hard and bit her tongue. Warm, coppery blood spilled into my mouth, bringing to life a slew of delightful shivers. 

Her high-pitched squeal struck my eardrums, but I didn’t care. Her fluids overpowered all my senses. I swished her blood between my teeth, like mouthwash, before spitting it into the palm of my hand. A thick, gooey, red substance coated my fingers. Its power hypnotized me and…altered me. I hungered after it. My tongue darted out of my mouth and snatched up the blood staining my skin. Upon my virgin swallow, I released the low growl swelling in my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of her. Her face had turned a shade of ghastly-white, and her eyes bulged out of their sockets. She opened her mouth wide, blasting out another petrified shriek. It echoed inside my ears, yanking me back to reality. I held my hands up and backed away from her, shaking my head. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me…I’m so sorry.”

She scrambled to her feet, gave my shin a swift kick, and shouted, “Freak!” As she ran away, she threatened, “I’m going to tell everyone what you did.  Everyone!”

I wandered the park aimlessly with my thoughts spiraling. I bit her! Why, why, why? The blood…it made me do it! My feet stumbled to a grinding halt. Her blood coerced me; I knew it with every ounce of my being. Was that even impossible? Was I losing my mind? I had to get away from the school. I grabbed my cell and called my mom.

She picked up on the second ring. “Brandon, why aren’t you in class?” Her voice sounded strained. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m sick, Mom.” My voice cracked. “P–Please come get me.”

“Of course, honey.”

“Hurry.”

“Ten minutes, if that,” she answered in a lulling tone. “Don’t worry.”

My shoulders quaked, threatened by a wall of tears building behind my eyelids. For the second time that day, I waited on the front steps of the school, a different person—a person who craved blood—a freak!

As my mom’s car turned into the parking lot, I bolted toward it. The car hadn’t even come to a complete stop when I yanked on the handle and slid inside.

She gave me a heartfelt look, then immediately placed her hand to my forehead. “No fever, so that’s good. How is it you don’t feel well?”

Looking into her eyes made me want to ball like a baby. I looked away, then shuddered. “I ache all over.”

Again, she touched my forehead, then each cheek. “I’ll make you some soup when we get home.” She paused, then added, “Your sister’s going to be jealous.”

Soup wasn’t going to fix my problem, and I certainly couldn’t tell my mom I’d bit a girl’s tongue. I couldn’t tell my sister either. I couldn’t tell anyone. I forced a smile and glanced at her. “Soup sounds good. Better make enough for Lindsey or she’ll be really jealous.”

Her vivacious laugh filled my ears. “You’re probably right.”

As the car pulled away from the school, the knot twisting my stomach relaxed; though, the gruesome act of biting Sam was less forgiving. The image was forever etched into my brain. I sank deeper into the seat and shuddered.

My mom glanced at me with a line of concern pinching her forehead. “Are you all right?”

That was the million-dollar question. I heaved a sigh. “My head’s pounding. I just want to lie down.”

“Thank goodness we live so close.” She shook her head and her frown deepened. “This came on so sudden. When you dashed out of the house this morning, you were fine.”

I shrugged my shoulders.  I was fine, until Sam changed things. Turning onto our street, she added, “I hate it when my kids get sick.”

“I’ll be okay.” I lied, but my mom needed the reassurance.

“Of course you will.”

As my mom pulled into our driveway, I pushed open my door. I didn’t even wait for her to kill the car’s engine before I was hurrying into the house with large strides, running up the stairs and into my room. I flopped onto my bed and buried my face in my pillow. The sobs I’d been fighting all day gained on me. My eyelids gave way to the mounting pressure behind them, spilling hot tears down my cheeks and drenching the pillowcase. My mom walked in during the height of my waterworks display. I quickly swiped at my face, brushing away the tears before sitting up.

“Brandon, honey, take a sip of 7UP,” she said, sitting next to me and handing me a can of soda.

I shoved the soda aside on the nightstand, then latched onto her, letting my tears flow again. “Tell me I’m not a horrible person,” I cried.

Her arms came around me in a loving embrace. “Why in the world would you say such a thing?” She cupped my face in the palms of her hands. “You’re my prefect sixteen-year-old son.”

My breath hitched inside my chest as I thought of the why. “I don’t know. I just…I just need some sleep.”

My mom pulled two round white pills from her sweater pocket, then reached for the 7UP. “Here’s two aspirin.” She stroked my head, then rose from the bed. “I’ll start the soup. Try to rest while it’s cooking.” She quietly closed the door, leaving me alone.

I washed down the pills and fell back onto the pillows, my gaze drifting toward the ceiling. Sam’s horrified face spread across it and I jerked my eyes away, burying my face into a pillow. Sam, I’m so sorry. She’d never forgive me. I couldn’t forgive myself. There was no forgiving what I’d done. What kind of person bites another person? A freak, that’s who.

A Google search could pinpoint what was wrong with me. I glanced at my laptop resting on my desk and shivered. Bad idea. Searching the internet for reasons why someone craved blood might uncover something far worse.

A rock of fear landed in the pit of my stomach. I bolted into my bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I caught my reflection in the mirror as I toweled off the clammy sweat and stared hard, searching for the slightest change—same hazel eyes, sandy-brown hair, and dimpled cheeks looked back at me. I didn’t see a freak or a monster, just me.

I wandered back to my bed and sank deeper into the pillows. The feather-down cradled me, programming my brain to shut down and summon sleep. My eyelids grew heavy, sliding down over my eyes like curtains.  I didn’t fight it and drifted off.

The creak of my bedroom door sounded inside my head like an alarm. My eyelids fluttered and slowly opened, my vision coming into focus. My sister stood in the doorway, her school books tucked under her arm.  “What do you want, Lins?”

Lindsey bounced into my room, unloaded her books on my desk, before sitting on the edge of it.  As she twirled a strand of her brownish-blonde hair around her finger, her big green eyes studied me. “You really sick or just faking?”

What I wouldn’t give to be faking the whole mess. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not faking.”

She plastered one of those ‘I don’t believe you’ looks on her face and heaved a sigh as her shoulders sagged. “I hate high school.”

That was so Lindsey; everything was always about her. I leaned against the headboard and folded my arms. “Why?”

“I was so popular in junior high. Everyone knew me or wanted to know me. Now, I’m at the bottom of the fish bowl, like scum. My social status is non-existent.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Social status, really?  Lins, you’re fourteen.”

She turned her nose up at me. “Like sixteen’s old. Besides, I happen to like being popular.” She pouted. “Ninth grade sucks.”

“Eleventh grade isn’t any easier,” I pointed out. “The twelfth graders have all the power.”

“Hmph. It just isn’t fair.” She paused, scrunching her eyebrows together. “Something’s really wrong with you, isn’t there?  You’re doing that thing with your forehead.”

I swiped a hand across my brow. “What thing?”

“Pulsating the vein in the center of your forehead.” She shuddered. “Gross. You always do it when you’re stressing out.”

I waved her off. Truth be told, though, I was in major stress mode. A whiff of chicken turned my head toward the doorway. Mom entered, carrying a breakfast tray.

“Ready for some soup?” She set the tray of steaming chicken noodle soup, soda crackers, and another can of 7UP next to me on the bed. “I came up earlier, but you were asleep.”

I licked my lips. “So ready.”

She touched her hand to my forehead. “Still no fever. That’s good, honey. Eat your soup and get some rest.”

Lindsey leaned in and took a deep breath. “Mom, that smells delish.”

“There’s plenty more downstairs.” She smoothed Lindsey’s hair and gave her a smile. “Why don’t you join me downstairs for a bowl.”

Lindsey jumped off my bed and scooped up her books. “Totally.” She glanced back at me. “Feel better.”

“Thanks, Lins.”

“I’ll check in on you later,” Mom said, then followed Lindsey out of my room and shut the door behind her.

I scarfed down the soup and crackers, then chugged half the can of 7UP. I pushed the tray aside and let out huge sigh. Once more, I fell back onto the pillows and closed my eyes.



****



I woke to a dark room. A shaft of moonlight cut through the curtains, stretching across the room and shining right in my face, letting me know it was still night. I rolled over to the opposite side of my bed and pulled the covers over my head, blocking out the light. An empty feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t hunger, it was the thought of school. I dreaded staring into Sam’s unforgiving eyes, and all the pairs of eyes of the people she’d told. I’d tell her I’d contracted a disease, and maybe I had. The creak of my bedroom door shattered my thoughts. Mom entered and flipped on the light, causing me to flinch. I can’t go to school tomorrow. I just can’t.

“Brandon, how are you feeling?” Mom asked, touching her hand to my forehead for the hundredth time.

Her warm fingers pulsated with thick, rich, tasty blood against my skin. No, not again!  I jerked away from her and scrambled to the opposite side of the room, sinking to the floor. She hurried after me, a thumping vibration following her. The suffocating hum wrapped around my brain, growing louder and louder. I slammed my hands over my ears and wailed.

“Brandon, what’s wrong?” Mom dropped to her knees in front of me, her hands latching onto my arms. “Oh my God, you’re shivering.”

The thumping was coming from her—her heartbeat! Every crushing thud swelled inside my chest, sucking the air from my lungs. I squished a hand between us and pried her away, but she only clung tighter as she screamed for my dad.

With her cry for help, his footsteps pounded against the carpeted stairs as he rushed to her aid.  As my dad charged into my room, the thumping magnified. I sat there, imprisoned on the floor, convulsing with each beat of their hearts. The room grew fuzzy as my vision blurred. Lindsey’s panicked squeal filled my ears, then all sound faded away to nothing.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was back in bed. A shaft of light from the hallway penetrated through the opening of my bedroom door, while multiple heartbeats sounded off inside my ears. I rolled over to face the doorway. My mom and Dr. Erickson, our next-door neighbor, stood just outside my room, wearing green hospital scrubs. She must have caught him either going to the hospital or just getting home. They spoke in hushed tones. I couldn’t make out every word, but I caught something about oxygen to the brain and low blood pressure.

This wasn’t any kind of illness. This was some sick craving for blood, and the second time it had manipulated me. Would there be more? How far would I go to satisfy the need? Would I resort to violence again? Would I hurt my parents, or Lindsey? A thin layer of sweat coated my skin as I twisted the sheets between my clammy fists. “Never!” I shouted.

My mom popped her head in. “I’ll be right there, Brandon.” She faced Dr. Erickson and squeezed his hands. “John, I can’t thank you enough for stopping by and checking on Brandon.”

“No need to thank me, Diane, but keep that appointment.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Goodnight. Call me anytime.” He gave her a nod and went on his way.

She hurried to my bedside, that motherly look of concern tugging at her eyebrows. “Honey, how are you feeling?”

“Tired…weak.” Scared I’m turning into a bloodthirsty monster.

She patted my hand. “Dr. Erickson reached out to Dr. Stewart. We’ve got an appointment with him tomorrow morning at nine.”

I heaved an exaggerated sigh in protest. “Do I have to go? You know how he is. He’ll run every test in the world.”

The motherly look intensified. “You gave me and your father, not to mention Lindsey, quite a scare. The subject is not up for debate. You’re going.” Her face softened, and she planted a kiss on my cheek. “Close those gorgeous hazel eyes and get some rest.” She stared at me for several seconds before leaving my side.

As she closed my door, I shuddered. If she knew the truth, she’d haul my ass to the nuthouse instead of the family physician.

Once more, my door opened halfway. Lindsey peeked around the frame. “Can I come in?”

That was a first. She never asked. I must’ve really freaked her out by fainting. “Yeah, sure.”

She approached my bed, stopping inches away. Her face twisted like she was in pain. “You scared me.” Her voice was gentle and soft, lacking its usual self-centeredness.

I put on my most thoughtful expression. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or Mom, or Dad. Mom says I’ve got to go to see Dr. Stewart tomorrow.”

“That’s probably a good thing. He’ll go all test happy and find what’s wrong.”

I busted out laughing. “That’s what I said.” I let myself get serious and lowered my voice. “I’m kind of scared. What if there’s something wrong with me, something that can’t be fixed?”

She nudged my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

“What if it’s not?”

She locked her gaze on me. “It will. You’re my big brother, and I need you.”

I cracked a smile. “You mean, you need someone to boss around.”

A giggle escaped her, and more seemed to struggle to get out before she shook them off and held her chin high. “Not true.”

I let out a bemused huff. “Yeah, right. You’ve been bossing me around since you learned to talk. When we lived in that tiny apartment and had to share a room, you claimed top bunk and ordered me to sleep on the bottom bunk. Remember?”

She shuddered, then rubbed her arms. “That bedroom was haunted. I’ll never forget that girl’s voice humming that lullaby. No way was I sleeping on the bottom where she could pop out from under the bed and grab me.”

I rolled my eyes and waved her away. “I told you then and I’m telling you now, it was Mom.  She was probably standing outside our door, trying to get us to go to sleep.”

“That voice had come from inside our room, and it wasn’t Mom. It was a ghost,” she insisted with a firm nod.

My gaze drifted toward the ceiling as I conjured up the past, then I faced her. “It didn’t sound ghostlike or creepy to me. It had more of a calming effect as I remember.”

She jutted her chin in my direction. “Maybe for you.”

I released a low sigh. “Well, right now, I could use that calming lullaby.”

“Everything will be okay,” she said again, then hugged me.

I hugged her back, and longer than normal before releasing her. “Thanks, Lins. It’s late, go back to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

She searched my eyes. “You’re sure?”

I waved her toward the door. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She kept her gaze on me as she backed up into the doorway. A half-smile came to her lips before she closed the door, leaving me alone.

After staring at the ceiling for quite some time, sleep finally took over and Sam entered my dreams. She lay motionless beneath me as I hunched over her like a crazed animal. I’d ripped her apart, limb by limb, my face buried inside her open wounds, guzzling mouthfuls of blood.

My eyelids flew open and I scurried off my bed, flipping on the light, the nightmare still fresh in my mind. My heartbeat throbbed inside my throat as I skimmed over my room. Familiar surroundings fell into my sightlines; my guitars, rock-n-roll memorabilia, skateboards, and gaming equipment. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, trembling, and sank to the floor. Tears rushed forward and spilled down my cheeks as I feared the significance behind my nightmare.


About the Author


Laura Daleo was born and raised in San Diego, California where she majored in Fine Arts at Mesa College. She is best known for her love of animals and shares her home with three humorous Basset Hounds, Stuart, Morgan, and Dexter, her toughest critics. Laura has held positions in several industries, Restaurant, Telecom, Biotech, Research, and Retail. Throughout Laura's professional career, she furthered her writing skills by taking courses and by joining writer’s critique groups and Writers Digest. She is now the owner of Story Bound Publishing, a fresh voice in the supernatural realm of ebooks and traditional print, committed to publishing unearthly tales of Aliens, Angels, Demons, Fairies, Ghosts, Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, Zombies and all other creatures that go bump in the night.



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