Tag Archive | post-apocalyptic

Dead Blue Sea by Erin Hayes

DeadBlueSeaBlitzBanner-copy-copyTitle: Dead Blue Sea
Series: The Berkano Vampire Collection
Author: Erin Hayes
Publication date: November 6th 2017
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Post-Apocalyptic

Point Break meets Buffy in post-apocalyptic Cape Town, South Africa.

 
DBS

They say that surfing used to be a way of life.
In Devil’s Bay, it’s the only way to survive.

My name is Carlyle. I’m a water witch who protects the fishermen of my village from the danger beneath the waves. My days are spent on my longboard saving everyone from the fins. My nights are spent dreaming of something more than my small village isolated from the outside contact by cliffs and jagged peaks.

Then a storm strikes out of the blue, and, well, I wipe out. When I wake up, I’m on the other side of the bay surrounded by vampires who want to see me dead. Major bummer.

Only Kopano, an outcast of the fangers, seems to take pity on me. You see, Kopano also spent his nights dreaming of something more, and he thinks I hold the key. The only catch? To find the truth, we’ll have to face the dead blue sea.

 

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Excerpt:

      “There’s some sort of irony,” I grumble, “in being sensitive to sunlight but also having to be outside during the day. Every damn day.”
      She shrugs. “Do you want me to go tell the sharks to stop being nocturnal and hunt during the day?”
      I snicker. “Aw, could you? Because then the fishermen could do their thing at night. And we could all avoid the sun like good, self-respecting, UV-sensitive witches.”
      She chuckles darkly. “Ag, if only! But this is what we signed up for.”
      I flick some sea water her way, and she squeals in mock-shock. “I signed up for this?”
      Her smile falters. “Well, your mother did. But you’re still out here.”
      Not that I really have any choice in the matter. It’s what’s best for the village, and there’s no denying that. I’m the best remaining water witch—if I suddenly stopped, we all knew that fishermen would lose their lives, food would become scarce in my village, and my own sense of self-preservation would be to blame.
      Stuck between a shark and a wet place, I guess.

 

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Author Bio:
ErinSci-fi junkie, video game nerd, and wannabe manga artist Erin Hayes writes a lot of things. Sometimes she writes books.

She works as an advertising copywriter by day, and she’s an award-winning New York Times Bestselling Author by night. She has lived in New Zealand, Hawaii, Texas, Alabama, and now San Francisco with her husband, cat, and a growing collection of geek paraphernalia.

You can reach her at erinhayesbooks@gmail.com and she’ll be happy to chat. Especially if you want to debate Star Wars. You can also sign up to her newsletter and get her free starter library.

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The Rememdium Series by Ashley Fontainne

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Series: The Rememdium Series
Author: Ashley Fontainne
Genre: Post-apocalyptic, SciFi

Tainted Cure

 Book 1

Free Kindle Book Cover TemplatesScientists attempted to find a cure for addiction. They failed.

Dr. Everett Berning, a leading researcher into the causes of addiction in the brain, spent ten years of his life dedicated to one thing: finding the cure. Recruited after a strange encounter with the enigmatic Dr. Roberta Flint, Director of Research on Code Name: Rememdium, Dr. Berning is sent to work in a secret lab as part of the research team.

When the moment the scientists waited on for years arrives, Dr. Flint and her team are ecstatic.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the world feels the same way.

Benito San Nicholas isn’t ready to give up his lucrative business. When the news of a cure arrives on his doorstep from a crooked informant, Benito enlists the help of other drug lords from around the world to stop the cure from hitting the streets and destroying their livelihoods.

What happens next ends up uniting the globe–just not the way society ever intended or hoped.

“Tainted Cure is a huge success on different levels. First, the story is original, well thought-out, and brilliantly accomplished. It’s not unusual to read books with dangerous products falling into the wrong hands, but what happens when a good product falls into the wrong hands? The characters are lovely and engaging, and readers will feel inclined to connect with Dr. Everett Berning and the enigmatic Roberta Flint. Benito is the epitome of evil, a greedy character that readers will hate. Third, the pace is fast and there are so many surprises and twists to keep readers turning the pages. Ashley Fontainne has crafted an intriguing story that starts with a bang and ends on a very high note. You can’t help but fall for this author’s beautiful prose, her complex characters, and the oh-so-entertaining read.” – Romuald Dzemo for Readers’ Favorite

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Tainted Reality

Book 2

Free Kindle Book Cover TemplatesDR. EVERETT BERNING achieved his life’s work by discovering a cure for drug addiction. Unfortunately, the formula was stolen and fell into the hands of the enemy.

DRUG LORDS from around the world unknowingly released the altered, deadly formula into their supply, affecting millions across the globe.

WITHIN FORTY-EIGHT HOURS, the entire planet is thrown into chaos as the disease spreads.

REGINA PARKER, Chief of Police of the tiny town of Rockport, Arkansas, isn’t willing to let the military kill thousands of innocent people in a rush to contain the outbreak. She leads a small contingent of survivors on a dangerous quest to keep her town safe from the soldiers and the dead.

WILL DR. BERNING be able to isolate the contagion and find a way to reverse it, or is it too late to save humanity from the tainted cure? How far will Chief Parker go to save the lives of others as the world collapses around them?

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Tainted Future

Book 3

Free Kindle Book Cover TemplatesEverything they know is gone. The old world obliterated in less than forty-eight hours. They soon discover they aren’t alone, and other dangers besides the undead lurk in the forests. The new law of the land: kill or be killed

Dr. Everett Berning and his team seek refuge in the underground lab in the Ozark Mountains. The first week after the collapse of civilization, those who made it out alive struggle against the odds to survive.

Only a handful escaped the devastation in their hometown of Malvern, Arkansas, and they grapple with the new reality. Tired, frightened, and mourning the loss of loved ones, they attempt to regroup and cope with the life-altering changes.

When one suffers a debilitating injury, they are thrust into a tenuous relationship with Dr. Berning’s group. Other survivors battle the odds as they flee treacherous cities destroyed by the government and crawling with reanimated corpses.

Unfortunately, they all are about to discover the roaming dead aren’t the only threat they face. As the world plummets into darkness, things will never be the same. Ever.

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Ashley is giving an Audio version of any of her 20 + books AND an advance copy of the fourth and final book, Tainted World (coming soon).

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About the Author:
AshleyAward-winning and International bestselling author Ashley Fontainne enjoys stories that immerse the reader deep into the human psyche and the monsters lurking within each of us. She writes in numerous genres including mystery, suspense, horror, sci-fi and sometimes poetry.

Ashley lives in Arkansas with her husband and is the proud mother of one son and three daughters.

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The Blood of the Infected Series

by Antony J Stanton

The Blood of the Infected Banner

Series: The Blood of the Infected
Author: Antony J. Stanton
Genre: post-apocalyptic/thriller/horror

Once Bitten, Twice Die

Book One

OBTD High Contrast 2017The end of the world was just the beginning.

A cure for dementia has disastrously failed. Patients are left crazed, infectious and enraged. The ensuing carnage quickly spreads the disease, and civilisation is decimated.

On London’s outskirts a military base shelters some survivors. The soldiers within must battle against the infected who now roam unchallenged. Tensions are high, relationships fraught, death commonplace.

But if they thought the end of the world was bad enough, their troubles have only just begun…

An ancient menace has long existed in secret alongside humanity – a vampire clan, which has recently encountered the soldiers. Now is their time to emerge from the shadows. First though they have to overcome their own problems. They too have to fight for survival against the infected, and they violently disagree on their approach towards the humans.

Hostilities are rising. It’s only a matter of time now…

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Once Bitten, Twice Live

Book Two

9780993428531When death is the best option, survival is no longer enough…

With a growing realization that their continued existence bestows upon them a debt to humanity, the survivors look to create a cure for the insanity that has brought civilization to its knees. But that only encourages disagreement and infighting, and comes at a heavy price, bringing various shocks and surprises.

Tensions amongst the vampires are escalating, jeopardizing the very existence of the clan itself. A battle for supremacy seems inevitable and their future is in the balance. How far will Farzin go to achieve his aims – domination of the vampires and humans alike? And how terrible will his vengeance be against any who stand in his path? Their interaction with the humans threatens to increase and not necessarily for the benefit of either group.

Meanwhile the wrathful infected grow ever hungrier…

When every day is a struggle to stay alive, survival of the fittest is never guaranteed.

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Twice Bitten, Twice Die

Book Three

TBTD front-hiWhen there’s no one left to hear you scream…

Deaths amongst the survivors are occurring at an unsustainable rate. Numbers are rapidly dwindling. Morale is plummeting. Soon they will be beyond salvation, yet their real task has only just begun. But will anyone remain alive to complete it? Nothing could have prepared the soldiers for what lies ahead. If they thought life was brutal already, they had absolutely no idea…

The vampires are in disarray. Their relationships are becoming blurred, confused and violent. A titanic clash between soldiers and vampires seems imminent but no one’s survival is assured.

In a world where life is unpredictable, the threat from the infected suddenly becomes even more unexpected and menacing. Hostilities are inevitable. Only one thing is certain: there will be blood!

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Author Bio:

AntonyStanton was born in London in 1970. Even as a child he always dreamed of becoming a published author, and he started to write a book. But, having watched the film ‘Top Gun,’ he was swayed into a becoming a military pilot. After no more than a glancing blow of a career in the British Royal Air Force he decided that his long term future lay elsewhere and he became a commercial pilot and remains thus to this day. Hence much of this trilogy was written all around the world, generally at unsociable times when jet-lag meant that normal people were asleep.

During a holiday with three friends, a bet was made amongst them. Each had a task to fulfil within the year – Stanton’s was to write a book. A little late, but five years on and his challenge has been completed. Three times.

His period spent in the RAF helped him write the military survival aspects of this book, and a kidnapping incident in Kazakhstan (*see guest post) and shooting in Ghana, amongst other ‘adventures’, provided him with a dark well of experience to draw from. Life is, after all, one big adventure. A combination of the aforementioned, along with his love of the darker sides of literature, and the results are this novel and the next two in the trilogy.

And all it took was the impetus of a friendly challenge to spur him on to his creative dream… He still lives in South London and is very much looking forward to watching his friend fulfilling his part of the challenge: demonstrating his (not-so) newly acquired break-dancing skills, surely a sight to behold

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Guest Post:

There is an incident that happened to me a few years ago, that I thought might be of interest. I love travel and have been fortunate to visit over 100 countries. You get to meet all kinds of fascinating people and as often as not it is the people who either make or break a trip.

I found the people of Kazakhstan to be incredibly warm and friendly on the whole – that is, when they are not trying to kidnap you. They are hospitable and open their arms and their houses readily to foreigners and strangers in a way that puts us in the West to shame. This part of the world really is the kind of place where intrigue and exploits abound. Anyone with the slightest inkling for adventure can find it without searching too hard. However, there is also this darker side that exists in their society; the ever-present undercurrent of corruption and bribery and, in my case, kidnapping.


It wasn’t my writing that took me to Kazakhstan back in 1999. It was my primary job as a commercial airline pilot for British Airways. We had a training contract to teach the Kazakhstanis to fly the Boeing 757, a most interesting experience in itself. When my work finished, I went travelling for a while, and that was when I had my little ‘adventure’. A lot happened. Even before I was abducted I had already had a fascinating time most worthy of narrating. I will write of that in another article as you really should know how all this began. But for now, I must tell you of the kidnapping itself, so I will jump right into the midst of the whirlwind.


I awoke at the border. The vodka was still heavy on my breath but I was sober enough to realise that I was the last person on the bus, and that it was now night-time. Alas, I was not sharp enough to understand the significance of this. I really had drunk a lot. Not my fault. The bus driver was shooing me off his bus, so I collected my day-sack and climbed down.


As the bus pulled away I realised that the border, which was rather inconveniently situated in the middle of nowhere, was well and truly closed. However, there was a car waiting. In Kazakhstan there were not many proper, bonafide taxis. If one wanted to go somewhere one hailed private cars as they went by. Someone would swerve to a halt with the screech of dodgy brakes and one could barter with the man. Well, here was a car that was ready and waiting for me. Perfect. And this one had, not one man, but two.


Soon I found myself on my way. I had told the driver and his friend that I wanted to cross the border from Kazakhstan, and go to Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan. ‘Dah, dah,’ they had assured me. I settled back into the seat but immediately something seemed wrong. Nothing definite, just an uneasy feeling. After a short while I leaned forwards.


“Tashkent?” I asked, making sure they knew where I wanted to go.


“Dah, dah,” they again said.


I left it for a minute or so, but it was clear that Tashkent was across the border and we were heading away from the border. Away from Tashkent. Away from any signs of other people and into the bleak and barren countryside.


It is amazing how sobering fear can be. Instantly I was alert. The lurch in my stomach was not due to the alcohol but to the sudden realisation of how my stupidity had actually put me in a VERY dangerous position. I repeated my request to be taken to Tashkent. Again, they tried to convince me that all was okay. But all was most definitely not okay. And if I did not do something soon, then quite possibly all would not ever be okay for me again. I leaned forward and demanded that they stop. They did not speak English but they understood well enough. And they ignored me. I was shocked at how fast the day had gone from one amazing and joyous experience to a complete nightmare.


“Tashkent, Tashkent, okay,” they said, but this was not okay and I was not okay. They were driving me further from the border, further from any semblance of civilisation and further from safety. I looked all around, and realised that I had only one option…


On these unkempt, remote gravel roads the car had slowed to take a bend. Now was my chance. Now was my only chance. Without considering the danger, I opened the door and dived out. I do not remember how quickly we were travelling, but it can’t have been very fast as I did not seem to injure myself – or maybe that was the vodka’s protective embrace. The car screeched and complained to a halt some twenty yards away. Still close, but far enough for me to be able to affect my escape. The men were shouting at me, ‘Tashkent, Tashkent, no problem.’ Only I knew that there most definitely was a problem. And now here I was, in the middle of no-man’s land, nobody else in sight in the enfolding darkness, and my options very limited.


They were clearly as surprised by my actions as I was. I guess nobody had escaped from them in such a drastic manner before. I now had to decide. I could run back to the border, and by the time they turned the car I could probably be long gone and it would be easy to hide. If they chased me on foot I was confident I could outpace them. But either way I would be without my rucksack that I had foolishly put in the car boot. Not ideal.


Alternatively, I could dash back to the car and try to open the boot and grab my rucksack before they grabbed hold of me, but that would almost certainly end in a fight. Not good.


Or I could get back in and, fingers crossed, all would be ok. I tend to have a very positive attitude to life in general. Things just seem to work out, at least that’s how it seems in my naivety. So, I dusted myself off and chose option three.


‘Tashkent? Well why didn’t you say my good man?’ Having just dived out of a moving car I have no idea what they must have been thinking as I climbed back in. Lunatic!


For the rest of the journey I was completely awake and aware of my surroundings, keenly watching where we were going, looking out for signs of civilisation or habitation (none), noting the route, and mentally preparing myself for action. They no longer tried to convince me we were heading for Tashkent. The charade was over. Finally, we arrived at a lone farmhouse where there were two more kind-hearted men, ready to assist me with my luggage, just like a first rate, international hotel. ‘Why thank you sir, so kind. Please take my bag. Oh, and my wallet too? Be my guest…’


They escorted me into the abandoned building. I noted there were no other houses around. Inside there was no furniture or decoration to speak of. Clearly it was long-since abandoned. Just a table in a rear room, a bare light-bulb swinging, and a single chair into which I was ‘ushered’. Images of the film ‘Midnight Express’ flooded my mind. I realised if I lived to see sunrise I would be extremely lucky. They took my rucksack and ripped it open it, tipping its contents onto the cold floor like spilled intestines. I started to complain but the largest of them raised a threatening fist. I saw no weapons but who’s to know whether they had knives or not. And besides, there were four of them, after all.


They spoke no English, but I understood there was some kind of hierarchy, as though they were in the military or the police. I also understood that the best thing was to comply. Comply with their every request. Comply, right up until that moment when I thought I was about to die. And then I would fight for my life. When it was clear that I was in mortal danger then I would have nothing more to lose.


They all stood over me as I sat. I reasoned, if I acted suddenly I could probably strike one or two before they would have a chance to react. I started to plan what I would do, who I would attack first, where I would hit them as I sprang into action. If I was lucky and decisive, maybe that would swing things in my favour. Maybe I would avoid death. Maybe I could facilitate an escape. But this really was a very, VERY last resort. Until then, comply.


They went through my rucksack fairly thoroughly and found my money, which they took. Obviously. They ignored my camera, passport and sunglasses which surprised me. It was only money they wanted. However, they did not search me, so they did not find the money belt I wore. I started to think they were nervous and unprofessional. I was not sure if that made them less dangerous or more.


Time passed, and they started to argue amongst themselves. I will never know what they were discussing, but the scowls, gesticulations and glances in my direction made me think they were arguing about me. And specifically, what to do with me. Do they kill me and dump my body? Or do they let me go and risk being identified? I knew that the border here was real bandit country. I knew that my chances were not exactly great. I was preparing myself for action. If it was going to happen, then surely it would be soon. I had to be ready. Complete surprise, just like my exiting their car like James Bond (or perhaps more Jonny English), was my only chance, and a slight one at that.


I had heard of the Stockholm Syndrome – where feelings of trust or affection develop in a victim towards their captor. I wondered if I could use this to my advantage, by developing some sort of positive relationship with them. To make them see me as a person, and ultimately to set me free. I hung my head and tried to look downcast, to prompt feelings of sympathy. I sighed deeply and wrung my hands in despair, and it seemed to work, with one or two of them at least. They were all smoking, so I asked for a cigarette. One of the more apparently empathic men gave me one. It felt like a condemned man’s last cigarette in a black and white film. I looked around my grim surroundings taking it all in. The bare floorboards, the peeling wallpaper, the damp stains on the ceiling, all the while drawing on my last cigarette. This shared cigarette gave us all something in common, some form of bond; I hoped. It was the oddest experience for me. I felt detached from myself, as though I was watching a movie from above. I was curious to see how it would end. Would the luckless traveller escape? Would he be set free? Or would this be his gruesome end?


The arguing amongst them continued, for a while. Fists were shaken and voices raised. The one who seemed to be in charge was still angry, but the two empathic ones definitely seemed to be fighting my corner. Or so I hoped. Finally, they handed me my rucksack, and $20, (which they then changed to $10). To me this meant life. They were not going to kill me. I felt indescribably elated. I had a rush of warmth – maybe some of that Stockholm Syndrome flooding in. I figured the money must be to pay a taxi to take me away from them. At this, the feeling of the night changed for me. If I was not going to die then this had gone from being the worst (and last) night of my life, to possibly the most fascinating adventure. I had $10 and a pack of cards in my backpack. Suddenly there were possibilities.


What if I could entice them to play poker and I was able to gamble all of my money back…? How cool would that be! What an ending to my initially unfortunate incident. I had visions of myself and my captors-turned poker friends, sitting in the smoke filled room, perhaps sharing a tot of whiskey while I hustled them and shared jokes through the international language of alcohol. But they weren’t for playing, alas. Undeterred, I thought that I really should have a photo of the event. Nobody’s gonna believe this has happened otherwise, I thought. They said no. Unsurprisingly. But wait – I wasn’t deterred. Like those books one sees written by ex-SAS soldiers with photos of troops with blacked out eyes to preserve their identities, I tried to mime to them that they could cover their eyes. Imagine, a photo of me posing with my captors, beaming at the camera with pockets stuffed full of my poker earnings, arms on their shoulders as they cover their faces. This time the leader thumped his fist on the table when he almost shouted at me. Ok, time to stop treating it like a game. Time to get away. And live.


A car finally arrived. I was ushered outside, and my captors bade me an ‘emotional’ farewell. This car had only one driver – I checked carefully this time. He whisked me away from the house, into the night. I looked back but they were quickly lost in the darkness. After all, there aren’t exactly any streetlights in that part of the world. He drove me back to the border, to the Uzbekistani side. I was alive. I was free. I was euphoric.


The driver, a grizzled and rough man who stank of cigarettes, probably in his fifties, then turned around to face me. He held out his hand, demanding money. Adrenaline had been coursing through my body for several hours now and I was still fairly pumped for action. This was just too much for me. It really was taking the mickey. They had had quite enough from me, thanks. Now I was sober and it was one against one, mano a mano. I swore at him in no uncertain terms. Despite our lack of a common tongue, he most definitely got my meaning. It would have been hard to misinterpret me. I got out and think I may even have slammed the door. This time however, I remembered my rucksack. I had been kidnapped for a few hours. It was now early morning. I was tired, cold and thirsty, and stuck at the border. What now? I may have been free, but unbeknownst to me my ordeal was far from over…


For some reason there were three other cars at the border. They seemed to have nothing to do with the kidnappers although I still have no clue what they were doing there at that time. I approached them and asked for a cigarette (they were smoking – obviously). One spoke a little English so I explained my situation to him and asked for help. Kindly he agreed to take me to Tashkent. When they’re not abducting you and threatening your life, they really are very decent people. I checked into the Sheraton, absolutely amazed that I was not dead and feeling extremely happy with life. I went straight to the bar – still open – and had the best beer of my life, whilst telling the barmaid, ‘I’ve just been kidnapped, don’t you know!’


The fact that I was now in Uzbekistan without actually crossing the border and without having my passport checked, did not register as important. Not yet, anyway!

 

 

The Wizard Killer by Adam Dreece

wizard killer bannerSeries: The Wizard Killer
Author: Adam Dreece
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic, Fantasy

Season 1

 
Season 1A world once at the height of magical technology and social order has collapsed. How and why are the least of the wizard killer’s worries.

Leaning my bloody head against the back of the crashed levitating carriage, I flex my cramped fingers. With a renewed grip on the mana-pistol, I steal a quick breath. The others better wake up fast, otherwise we’re all going to burn.

Written using a binge-TV show model, Season 1 contains 20 pulse-pounding episodes, and is an all new side to best-selling YA author, Adam Dreece.

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“Madmax meets Lord of the Rings” – Goodreads.com

 

“…an intense action movie-style romp through a wonderfully detailed fantasy world. I freaking LOVED this story! I loved the cinematic feel, I loved the action scenes, I loved the characters. It is like Harry Potter meets Die Hard” – M Bybee, WereBooks.org, 5 Stars

 

“…imaginative and compelling series that is quite difficult to stop reading. Dreece knows exactly how to build and then neatly tie up each episode, while leaving the reader wanting more…. highly recommended.” – Reviewed by Jack Magnus for Readers’ Favorite, 5 Stars

 

Season 2

 
Season 2Kill me with a floating city? You got my attention. But then steal from me and try to burn me alive? You got me thinking.

I think I’m going to find your yigging, walking carcass and introduce it to two friends of mine: pain and vengeance.

By the way, I borrowed a lightning rifle. Don’t worry, I’ll return it… empty.

See you soon,
The Wizard Killer

Season Two kicks everything up a notch with 22 all-new, action-packed episodes!

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Excerpt #1:

      We step out of the bar and into the blinding, dusty outdoors. The sky’s got a familiar red haze to it. My fingers start rubbing together like they’re pulling on a fishing line with an unwilling memory on the end of it.
      There’s about two dozen people walking about, all of them dressed up beyond what I’d expect for an outskirts town. Most of the women have shiny dresses and parasols, and most of the men long coats and hats. Either this place is rich in something, or it’s got a secret that some pay handsomely for.
      Glancing about at the two-storey buildings and dirt-road nature of the town, knots start to form in my stomach. I’m not sure if I’m paranoid, or I remember something, but I’ve got a bad feeling about the place.
      I nudge the sheriff and point at the red haze. “What’s that?”
      He gives me a wide-eyed glare. “You stupid or something?”
      I frown at him.
      Leaning in, he whispers. “It ain’t smart to bring up the affairs of wizards and the like.”
      I’m tempted to ask something else, but am interrupted by the image of a floating city being built. Mana leaks… it’s one of the things that can lead to this haze, I remember. Looking again, my stomach turns as I’m sure there’s something far worse going on than building a floating city.


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Excerpt #2:

      The sunlight from the door stops two feet into the room with no rhyme nor reason. Stepping into the room, I close the door and take my hat off.
      I stand quietly, listening to the creak of the floorboards under me, waiting for my eyes to adjust. The room seems barren, except for a counter a few feet away.
      “Gah… that sound.” I put a finger in my ear and give it a good shake.
      A silhouette appears behind the empty counter. “These are dangerous times,” it says, the voice soft and melodic.
      The head turns and I’m thrown off. It’s like staring at a star-filled night sky.
      Swallowing nervously, I nod. “You’re the last of the free librarians I take it.”

 

 

The Author

 
Adam DreeceAdam Dreece kicked off his indie author career with his best-selling steampunk meets fairy tale series, The Yellow Hoods, which struck a chord with kids 9-15 and adults. After four books in the series, the former software architect put out two more young adult books, the post-apocalyptic fantasy book The Wizard Killer – Season One, and then his science fiction novel, The Man of Cloud 9. The first two novels in The Yellow Hoods series, as well as The Wizard Killer, have been finalists for Book of the Year awards from the Independent Author’s Network.

When he’s not working on his next book, Adam can be found giving talks at schools, libraries, associations, as well as comic-con type events like CalgaryExpo and FanExpoCanada on subjects from how to get one’s ideas out and stepping outside of one’s comfort zone, to how to give a successful book signing.

Along the way, Adam has faced many challenges, including working around his Dyslexia (reading and writing disorder), and needing to be ruthless with his time and energy in face of his severe asthma and chronic abdominal scar pain. He’s become an inspiration to some, and a symbol of tenacious hard work to others.

He lives in Calgary, Alberta, Canada with his wife and children. He is an active online mentor at adamdreece.com, and is a busy public speaker, panelist, and author in Canada and the Pacific Northwest.

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Excerpt:

      Holding the orb tightly up to my chest, I wait, my heart pounding. It feels like each thought of mine is fighting through a raging river to get heard, and the river’s growing.
      My eyes dart about, waiting for the inevitable. Everything’s quiet.
      I scream as something slashes my leg. Falling to the ground, I drop my pistol and put a hand over the bleeding wound. It’s like someone’s put warped mirrors all around me, making the whole world look weird.
      I rub my blood hand on the orb. “That’s got to count for something,” I mutter.
      The orb pulses twice as I get slashed again, this time from the left and right.
      I feebly lob the orb into the air. My heart sinks as nothing happens, as it falls towards the ground. But then it turns, arcing up, and vanishes.

 

 

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The Woodman Series By G.H. Bright

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Series: The Woodman
Author: G.H. Bright
Genre: Post Apocalyptic, Dystopian, SciFi

 

The Roads of Hell

Book 1
1- the woodman_360x600POST APOCALYPTIC, yet so much more!
“Modified Ebola has decimated the globe, handfuls of survivors eke out an existence whilst others are intent on building from the ashes a world of unimaginable pain and horror. The Woodman fights to keep the world from tipping completely over the edge whilst battling his own demons. ”

Imagine a world where nothing is easy. No electricity, electronic communications fuel or running water. Imagine that world came so fast there was nothing you could do about it. No preparation, no stockpiling of goods. One day you flick a switch and a fire comes on, the next day you need to learn to make fire to get warm and keep animals away.

No law, no order, survival of the fittest is the name of the game. From seven billion human beings to a few million spread out across the globe almost overnight.

Ebola has attacked the human race, virtually wiping it from the face of the planet. For those who survived, the struggle is just beginning and for some the nightmare is just starting.

A madman, now free of prison hospital builds an army and marches on Coast Town with the intent of taking for his own ends. Coast Town is a haven on the south coast of England, a refuse for the few survivors to gather and start again. Three years on from the dark day when Ebola first struck, the people face another challenge, this one perhaps all the more frightening because it might not kill you, just enslave.

Duke Woods, The Woodman, stands in the way of the madman. Duke has the power to stop him and a score to settle, too. With the help of another man, a new friend, they take the battle to the madman known as The Black Pope.

Will Duke survive?

Can The Black Pope be beaten?

Will the Ebola virus, known to all as The Death, return?

As Duke’s past comes back to haunt him so the battle for life takes off, with not only his life in the balance but that of Coast Town,too.

CONTAINS CONTENT SOME READERS MIGHT FIND DISTURBING.

Amazon | Goodreads

 

The Fires of Hell

Book 2
2- book 2_360x600This second instalment starts six weeks after Book one, the Roads of Hell, finished.

The reluctant hero in the making, Duke Woods, The Woodman, has contracted Ebola, otherwise known simply as “The Death”.

The Black Pope is still alive and kicking, unknown to most, and The Woodman has a new friend.

Michelle, a six-year-old girl remains at his side watching and waiting whilst The Death ravages his body. Hannah, the love of his life is not allowed near them in case she and the child she carries become infected and the communities, at the news of his contagion, go into lock-down.

Hannah is nearly six months pregnant, Sue is seven months into her pregnancy, and several other women are carrying babies too.

As Duke recovers, he finds the Army is still in place and helping everyone it can, and the Elders are still unable to achieve even the simplest of things. Coast Town looks to be thriving again with the new influx of people but as always, trouble is just around the corner and new horror surfaces.

Just when things looks good for the survivor’s, just as they begin to grasp skills forgotten, new evils and hard times rush to compound issues and make life a far greater struggle than it already was. The Death wiped out 90% of Mankind; illness and disease took even more.

Those that lived through it, instead of banding together, seem unable to change their ways and people find they still have to fight Mankind’s greatest enemy, Mankind itself.

Amazon | Goodreads

 

The Gates of Hell

Book 3
3- book 3_360x600This instalment begins six hours after Duke Woods, AKA The Woodman, has decided he must leave Coast Town.

If he leaves, they stand a chance of negotiation with the small army coming their way and he gets to go home to his family. If he stays, the army will want his head. He has to try and flee, regardless of how it looks to others.

The ‘reluctant hero in the making’, fights his way out with bow and arrow, and arrives home only to find his family in mortal danger. Then, in a twist of fate; Duke is taken prisoner and escorted to Dover Castle. There he has, under threat of death, to fight for his freedom and his sanity as the true horrors of a madman come to light. Seth Windsor is insane and out for blood, a truly bad concoction, and he will only be happy when Duke is forced to fight for his life.

Sue goes to other lands to start a new and joyful life whilst Coast Town burns; only to find the sweet talking man was really a serpent in disguise.

Duke fights evil time and again, fashioning himself unwittingly into a hero regardless of his wish to not be.

Years of peace follow, communities come together, trade together and grow, and a network of towns and villages live in harmony with the people of the woods. Harmony that is, until evil rears its ugly head once more in the form of feral kids linked to Seth Windsor. The Death is still out there, perhaps it always will be, and evil men still rampage across the lands too. The peace is shattered by these feral kids and a new terror from the north. Will peace ever really come to The Woodman?

Amazon | Goodreads

 

Hell on Earth

Book 4
4- book 4_360x600Duke and Coast Town face a new challenge as the horror from the north, having taken the Oxford Crew, move southward looking for The Woodman. Duke attempts to build an army and defend. Kufuo is still missing, on an adventure of his own trying to trace his roots and all the time ships from the new world head toward them for confrontation. Senator Horst is not all he seems to be and speaks with a serpents tongue. Marine Cobb goes AWOL and tells Duke what he already suspected, that Horst let the Ebola virus loose in the first place. Fighting for his life and the lives of those he loves, Duke must defeat the terror from the north and deal with Senator Horst whilst keeping his people together.

This fourth and final instalment gives the answers to who the people were that died at the start of book one, explains who unleashed the virus, modified it and why.

Duke comes close to death, Sue at last finds happiness and Duke, Gould and Troy find out who lives on the forbidden isle.

This is the last in the on-going series, however, the saga continues with books 5 and six.

Amazon | Goodreads

 

All Hell Broke Loose

Book 5
5- book 5_400x600Modified Ebola was created to wipe out the masses and cut down the numbers of humans on planet Earth. Three differing strains – due to natural mutation and the meddling of the mega-rich – has created a bleak world for those lucky enough to survive. This is book five in the saga and, whereas you might not have read books one – four, you can pick it up by jumping right in here.

Life is peaceful once more, the newcomers are getting used to this way of life in southern England and Duke Woods is a dad again. Evil, however comes from across the Channel and threatens the very existence he has fought so hard to build. If the virus wasn’t bad enough this new terror rips the heart out of not just Coast Town but The Woodman too as this battle becomes personal and painful.

Amazon | Goodreads

 

Hell Hath No Fury

Book 6
6- book 6_400x600Three differing factions head for Duke’s Lands. All have different agendas, one wants to live in peace and be friends whilst another is happy to die for the cause just so long as The Woodman dies too, and the third faction – an eight hundred strong army – wishes for nothing more than total domination.

Attacked on different fronts, abandoned by The West and with his lands diminishing rapidly, Duke Woods has the fight of his life on his hands. It is a fight that will cost dearly, many people will die in battle and the return of The Death will take its share too. Stretched to the limits of manpower and with the weather against them, the Marines and Fighting Men stand side by side with The Woodman and family in a fight to the death to save Coast Town. This is a win or lose-it- all battle to the death.

Contains graphic violence and sexual content, not for the squeamish.

Amazon | Goodreads

 

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The Author:

G.H. BrightI live on the South coast of England, Sussex to be exact, but I was born in Hampshire.

When not writing I Instruct motor vehicle studies, including computer diagnosis & diagnostics on modern systems. I love the beach, being social, walking the beach/woods and family life (not in that order) and real ale.

The Woodman saga – book one written in 2000 – is set in a world where modified Ebola has decimated human life as we know it. Duke Woods fights to bring peace and stability to life again but also has to fight his demons to do so.

A cross between Mad Max meets Game of Thrones, meets Contagion meets Robin Hood, this is the story of a modern day hero trying to do the best for everyone and putting himself in the line of fire to do it.

Website | Facebook | Google+ | Goodreads | Amazon | Pinterest | Smashwords

 

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Dreadland Chronicles by Richard Schiver

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On June 24, 2016, THE REAPING will be available in both print and e-book format. To celebrate the release, the first book in the DREADLAND CHRONICLES series, ALL ROADS LEAD TO TERROR will be free from Friday June 24, 2016 until midnight Sunday June 26, 2016. There will also be a second chance weekend on July 16 & 17 to give those who missed the first free weekend a chance to enter the drawing.

Anyone who downloads a free copy of All roads lead to terror and leaves a review on Amazon.com before midnight on August 20, 2016,will be entered into a drawing for a one of a kind candy jar to take place on August 21, 2016. Full details about the giveaway can be found HERE!

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The Reaping

Man is no longer alone at the top of the food chain.

The_Reaping_Cover_for_KindleFrom the East a new threat to a struggling civilization emerges, spreading across the land like a cancerous stain, leaving in its wake the shattered remnants of a species teetering on the brink of extinction.

After the dead walked and society crumbled, mankind struggled back from the brink of extinction. Having fled the cities, the survivors lead a more pastoral lifestyle, while the cities to the east stand as silent monuments to the former progress of man.

But they are not empty.
Not only did mankind leave behind the trappings of his progress, but the creatures of the night that once fed along the shadowy edges of a well lit world. Inhabiting that twilight space between day and night, between what is real and imagined, between dreams and nightmares.

In Bryn Mawr Window is infected when he is bitten by a Reaper. As he struggles against the rising bloodlust, viewing his friends as a potential meal, they set out to the East in the search of a cure.

Along the way they learn more about the nature of the world they inhabit, their own past, and the part they each play in a potential future. Crossing paths with a shadowy figure who leaves small tokens from each of their own history. Little objects that carry powerful emotions linked to major changes in their past lives.

In the nations former capitol they are confronted by the master who reveals the cold truth about the cosmos as he prepares his own army of the undead to enslave what remains of mankind.

Amazon

 

All Roads Lead to Terror

The horrors of the past meet the brutality of the present.

All_Roads_Lead_To_Te_Cover_for_KindleOn the day of his birth the dead walked and society crumbled. His mother took one look at him and pronounced him Meat. He survived, she didn’t.
Fourteen years have passed and obscurity means survival in an increasingly dangerous world. For the survivors compound at Bremo Bluff that obscurity is threatened when a savage band abducts a group of children from the compound.

Accompanied by his three friends Window, Einstein, and Billie-Bob, Meat embarks on a quest to rescue the children. A journey that will lead them into adulthood, with a brief detour through the Dreadlands, as they confront the harsh reality of a brutal world beyond the barriers that had served to protect them.

In the dead city of Richmond they will confront that savage cult of children who worship a creature of the night. These creatures, once considered the nightmare imaginings of a fevered mind, are now awake in a world where the population that once served as their food source has been reduced.

Awake and very, very, hungry.

Amazon

 

Excerpt from The Reaping:

They heard her before they saw her, whistling a soft tune, a haunting melody that was anything but  upbeat. Like a funeral dirge best shared during the procession when the casket takes its final journey to the grave. From around a bend in the small stream the sound came, competing with the babble of the water rushing over smooth stone, and the restless voice of a soft breeze that stirred what leaves remained, their dead bodies chattering against one another like skeletons dancing a frenzied jig.


Cautiously they approached the sound, coming upon an old woman kneeling on the bank as she washed clothes in the cold waters of the stream. Her calloused hands were red with the cold, and as they rounded the bend she pushed herself to her feet with the help of a gnarled cane, tilting her head to one side like she could hear their footsteps on the grassy bank.


“I been waiting for you boys to find me. Mama said you would be around,” she said as the hem of her long dress caught in the moving water and the fabric drank its fill. She wore a black shawl stretched across her shoulders, her white hair in stark contrast as it rested against her back.


“Don’t be bashful now, I know you’re out there, I can smell ya.” She turned her head to look in their direction, the cataracts coating her eyes capturing the sunlight to lend them a silvery appearance. Her face was a road map of wrinkles, each one denoting a different emotion, the lines radiating out from her narrow lips ready at a moments notice to punctuate a smile or a frown.


Window moved past the others, following the narrow strip of brown grass that served as a bank to keep the stream on its course. She blinked several times as he approached, taking a hesitant step back as he got closer, his six two frame towering over her diminutive five three posture.


“He got to you, didn’t he boy?” She said with a faint quiver in her voice. It was obvious she was frightened by Windows sudden movement, but at the same time she carried herself like one who was prepared to meet her end. She reached out with one hand, and gently caressed Windows cheek like a mother comforting her child.


“How did you know we was coming?” Window said.


She smiled then, relaxing her grip on the walking stick she used to keep herself upright. “Mama told me back when I was a young un. She said, Sophie, you help them four boys when they come, you wait right there, don’t go running off, cause they’s gonna need your help.”


“How long ago was that?” Window said.


“All my life I’ve known, and I’ve waited, cause mama told me I had to. From the time I was a wee child running barefoot down to old man Winner’s little store, I’ve known of you.”


“But that was before we were even born,” Window said as the others joined them and the old woman tilted her head to each in turn.


“You can see us?” Billie-Bob said.


She laughed then, her voice filled with a joy that helped push back the chill of the late fall day, offering a brief respite from the cold as a spreading warmth filled each of them at the sound of her merriment.


“Everything that has been, and is yet to be, has been writ down for those who know where to look,” she said before turning to look in Billie-Bob’s direction.


“I can see you with my heart, and that’s all I need. I can see your pain, you did something you thought was bad, but it wasn’t. Sometimes we are pushed to do things we otherwise would not do, for these things we can’t be held accountable, least ways not to ourselves. Where each of you are going you need to leave your guilt behind, it’s the only way you will survive, the only way the world as we know it will continue on its way.”


“What good is this world?” Einstein said, “why should we worry about letting it continue on its way.”


The old woman reached over and touched Einstein’s cheek, “I feel your pain son, but sometimes we have to know loss before we can know joy. It’s the way of the world and it won’t do us any good to fight it. You can’t see that now, but you will.”


“Can you help us?” Meat said.


“That’s why I’m here,” she said as she took Windows hand into her own, “he’s got something very bad in him,” she said as she nodded at Window, “they calls them reapers, I can see it hunkered down next to his soul, trying to hide from me. I can’t help with that, but I know what you need to do. Let’s go inside where we can talk.” She looked around, searching the woods around them for other intruders, the boys followed suit, finding only the empty forest.


When they turned back a small cabin stood behind the old woman. It hadn’t been there before, Meat was sure of it, it was like it had materialized right out of the forest behind them.

 

The Author:

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Unlike other writers who knew they wanted to write the moment they became self aware, Richard’s path to taking up the pen followed a more leisurely route.

As a child he wanted to be a fighter pilot, later he thought it would be neat to be a rock star. Unfortunately, as an introvert, he was not suited for the stage. Once he gave up the guitar, much to the relief of his parents, he turned his attention to making movies.

Armed with an 8mm movie camera, several rolls of aluminum foil liberated from the kitchen, and the spare bed sheets, he filmed his first masterpiece. The story was about a space ship crash landing in the woods behind his house. His sister starred as the damsel in distress while his little brother, wrapped like a mummy in the spare bed sheets, chased her through the woods.

His career as a famous director ended before it even got off the ground when on opening night his mother recognized the missing bed sheets and aluminum foil resulting in his grounding for the remainder of that summer.

A voracious reader, he believes writing is the most intimate form of communication possible. The reader permits the writer access to their mind, and the readers reality dissolves as they focus on the narrative of the tale being spun.

His love of the macabre was sparked at an early age when he would sit on his grandmother’s porch listening to her tell ghost stories. During the summer he and his cousins would sleep in his grandmother’s back yard, within sight of the abandoned haunted house next door, and spend the night scaring one another with gruesome tales of shadowy creatures that went bump in the night.

During his life he has played a series of roles, husband, father, son, and lover, but his favorite by far is grandfather. He and his wife of twenty plus years have raised four children, and helped raise eight grandchildren. They provide a secure home to a yellow lab named Max and a cat who will answer to either Flame or Furball. His loving wife, Dena has experienced first hand the exasperation of living with a writer whose mind has a tendency to wander at the most inappropriate times. Yet she manages to keep his feet firmly planted on terra firma.

Richard can be found online at:

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Written in Blood is Richard’s personal blog where he shares his thoughts on writing, and whatever else might strike his fancy.

He can be contacted directly at rschiver@gmail.com and would be delighted to hear from you.

Sign up HERE to be notified of new releases when they become available. He promises to never share your contact info, nor will he swamp your inbox with unnecessary crap.