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Friday, October 26, 2012

Blog Tour: (Guest Blog + Giveaway) The Death of Jack Nylund By David F Porteous




I would like to welcome David F Porteous to The Avid Reader today. Thanks for stopping by David F Porteous. Please be sure and check out David F Porteous's novel The Death of Jack Nylund. Check out my guest post with David F Porteous.




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The Death of Jack Nylund Book Cover

Book Title: The Death of Jack Nylund

Series: Gods and Monsters Book One

Author: David F Porteous

Genre: Urban Fantasy

ISBN: 978-1-291-03025-9

Number of pages: 127

Word Count: 37,000

Cover Artist: Rob Moran







PURCHASE

The Death of Jack Nylund




Amazon Kindle

Amazon Paperback







BOOK DESCRIPTION

The Death of Jack Nylund




America, 1922. Ten years have passed since The Lines went up, dividing the States and the world into isolated pockets. The oligarchs are gangsters, titans of industry, monsters - the secret masters of mankind. They have endured a decade of cold war stalemate - but with forces equally weighted, the life of one man might be enough to change the fate of all men.

US Federal Marshal Clay Falk must bring Jack Nylund to New York. For the Marshal and his deputies the financial rewards are enormous, but in a landscape of shifting loyalties Falk is soon made a counter-offer he can't refuse. The war can be ended in a single night - the price is the honour of a legend and the life of a god.

Private Investigator Walter Black has no idea his latest missing person's case is the balance on which the world rests. Jack Nylund's sister is dying and Walter must track Jack's scent across America, through ruined lives, secret addictions and unforgettable pasts. The enemy he must overcome is one he's all too familiar with. The cost of his failure would be the death of Jack Nylund.







EXCERPT

The Death of Jack Nylund




"This is a picture of him from 1919, just after the war, looking like he slept in that uniform all the way from France. He still had that face, but he wasn't the same. I know there's men who came back changed: the Paterson boy up in Brownville hung himself that summer. Nobody talked about it much, and I suppose that was for the best. But Jack wasn't like that; it hadn't been a terrible thing for him, I don't think. Or if it had been, then it was one of those terrible things you get through and it sets you free." She said it in a deliberate, emotionless voice and finally passed the small black and white photograph to Walter Black.

Mary Howard's hands and the photo smelled of Johnson's Baby Powder and Ivory soap.

"I knew the truth before he did," she said. "About this place. About him. He'd come back from the war having seen the world and, well, I can't imagine what else. He'd grown a head taller, but Auburn was still a small town; too small for him. Sure enough, he was gone before the winter set in."

"This is your only picture?" he asked.

"It's the most recent one. I have couple of older photos of him with our mother. I don't suppose those would be much use to you. I hope he still looks like this: can't imagine him as anything else. Is it enough?"

"You said he wrote to you," he reminded her.

"From hotels. I think only because there was paper and he had nothing to do. Backwards, forwards, 'cross a dozen states: as far east as Chicago and then three months later Baton Rouge and Beaumont, Texas. I kept all of them, wrote back the day I got each one, but I doubt he saw more than a handful of my replies. And so what? What stories did I have to tell him? Then a year ago the letters stopped. It was just after the baby came and before Arnold - that was my husband - before he passed away. For a couple of months I'd wait for the postman every day and some days he even had a letter for me. But it was never from Jack. His last one was from the Ramsay in Des Moines. I wrote there so many times the hotel manager wrote back asking me to stop."

"Can I see the letters?" Walter asked.

"Of course, let me-" She was cut-off by the sudden, sharp cry of the baby in the other room. "Like as not, he'll need changing. Can you give me a few minutes?"

He waited at the table and took another sip of the cheap, bitter coffee. The kitchen was clean, and worn from use and cleaning. The stove was older than the house around it, cannibalised from another home no grander than this one. A sink of similar ancestry was attached to the wall by iron bolts and stained with tears of indelible orange rust.

Mary Howard returned with a shoebox of letters under one arm and a wide-eyed child pressed to her side by the other. Her son - whose looks strongly favoured his mother - was Arnold Jack Howard.

"Pleased to meet you Mr Howard, I'm Walter Black," he said and extended his hand. The boy grabbed the top half of his thumb and beamed a toothless smile. "That's quite a grip you have there."

Mary sat back down and placed the collection of letters on the table. "You have a way with children Mr Black; little Jack doesn't usually take to strangers."

He asked, "May I see them?"

Her eyes followed his and with surprise she noticed the hand perched on top of the box, its fingers gripping the cardboard, like something precious beyond value, like a handhold on the edge of a precipice. Recognising the hand was hers, she exhaled and let go.

"I don't know what use they'll be. But if you need them, that's fine. I have most of them memorised."

He sorted the envelopes by eye. Four different sizes, eleven different shades of cream and white, one blue. Postmarks from fourteen states; nothing east of Chicago, Illinois, nor anything west of Grand Junction, Colorado. They smelled of the house and the shoebox and woman who had read them uncounted times. A handful were from Des Moines, but he lifted three others that looked the same and found a return address pre-printed onto the flap of each: Savoy Hotel, Kansas City.

As tactfully as he could, Walter Black said, "You should prepare yourself for the possibility-"

"That he's dead? I know."

"You should prepare yourself for the possibility that he's alive and doesn't want to come back."

She replied in that same flat voice, "I need you to find him Mr Black. If he's dead then I don't know what I'll do, but if he's alive he's got no choice. My son is all that matters to me now and he'll need someone when I'm gone."

Mary Howard's heart would not last the year, so the doctors said. Her mother died of the same thing at thirty-seven, though Mary was only twenty-eight. Stress, they called it; stress had cut her years as a grown woman in half, cut her time as a mother to nothing.

Walter continued, "This isn't as simple as making a few calls or writing some letters."

She held herself straight-backed as he explained his terms.

The blue cotton dress she wore had a small mending stitch at the shoulder. He'd seen this dress a hundred times on as many women. Such as it was, it was certainly the nicest thing she owned and she had worn it as much for herself as for him.

"I know the price," she said, "and I will pay it." Her desperation and the defiant setting of her jaw was a promise she couldn't break. They didn't discuss payment again.

"I'll leave in the morning for Kansas City and call you if I find anything there." He stood and picked up his hat from the table, taking the photograph and a selection of letters, as many as he could fit in a pocket.

"I don't have a telephone," she said.

"I'll write you, unless I can bring him back with me faster. Or unless it's not news you'd want to get by letter."

She rose to show him to the door and replied, "I'll wait for your letters, then."








Guest Blog

The Death of Jack Nylund




If you were to read the blurb for my new book The Death of Jack Nylund, you'd think it was a taut thriller set in the supernatural gangland of a fictional 1920s America. At least I hope that's what you'd think, because that's what I intended when I wrote the blurb. But that's not how the book started and in this guest post I wanted to draw back the curtain and show you just a little of the path towards creating this book.

The story that became Jack Nylund started in my first novel, Singular, set in a near-future where virtual immortality is possible through uploading your consciousness into a computer network. In this electronic afterlife people play games - much like they do now - assuming roles, undertaking quests, killing things and so forth.

In a world where the virtual is real - considers the recently deceased philosophy professor Patrick Clark - what are the moral implications of performing these tasks? And how are people changed by setting their sights on the "Genghis Khan Medal", awarded for killing one billion enemies - a feat that may take hundreds of years to achieve?

I wanted to explore this notion of changing the exterior -the skin of a person - and what effect this would have on the individual. Would the exterior change the interior? Or would the person within come to shape their appearance?

Then, understanding that there would be a world populated by individuals who could live forever, I asked myself what they would do with their lives? Would their needs and desires be dictated by their bodies or would they embrace a cerebral existence? Would they be noble or venal? How would they behave towards those whose bodies they stole? All these questions took me on a journey to the creation of a detective.

My detective meant to unpick, to understand and to reconcile the worlds of the shell-hoppers and the human beings. Thus was created Walter Black and the book opens with the dour, taciturn gumshoe in the run-down kitchen of his latest client whose brother Jack, a perfect candidate for a host body, has vanished without explanation.

All detectives of the pulp genre have dark stories; I knew Walter would be no exception, but the process of understanding the deep sadness in him was also how I came to understand his enemy and shape the oligarchs -the secret masters of mankind. As these pieces began to fit together I understood that the book - and the series that needed to follow - would also have to be an exploration of a man's relationship to his creator and the nature of love, weakness and obsession.

Walter Black opened the door on a new world of Gods and Monsters and I hope you'll step through that door with me and see what follows The Death of Jack Nylund.







    About the Author



The Death of Jack Nylund Author

David F Porteous is a social research consultant and author of the novel Singular and the forthcoming Gods & Monsters series. The following are randomly selected biographical details about David - hit refresh to learn more.

Early Life: David attended Cockenzie and Port Seton Primary School where he learned to spell and write his name in cursive. The value of these once impressive skills has been substantially undermined by subsequent technological developments.

Influences: His favourite authors include Iain Banks, George V. Higgins, Douglas Adams, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

Other Interests: In his teens and early twenties he used to write poetry. People shouldn't try to find it; none of it was good.

Professional Work: In 2002 he graduated from Edinburgh Napier University with a degree in Marketing Management. His honours dissertation asserted that there was a bright future ahead for DVD rental stores. Over time this assertion proved to be both wrong and stupid. (He is not giving back the degree).







    ONLINE LINKS



Website

Twitter

Goodreads

Facebook







    GIVEAWAY



Tour wide giveaway

10 signed copies of David's debut novel – Singular.




a Rafflecopter giveaway






Be sure and check out all the other stops on the tour.



TOUR SCHEDULE




October 1 Blitz






Lisa’s World of Books

Creatively Green

Fang-tastic Books

Roxanne’s Realm

Mommy's Reading

Andi's Book Reviews

The Bunny's Review

Sapphyria's Book Reviews








October Tour




October 2 Tour Intro Lisa’s World of Books

October 4 Promo Sapphyria's Book Reviews

October 5 Interview Laurie’s Paranormal blog

October 5 Guest blog Claire Ashgrove

October 7 Review Bookworm Babblings

October 9 Interview Books, Books, The Magical Fruit

October 15 Interview and review Booked & Loaded

October 15 Bewitching Magazine Feature Exclusive excerpt and interview

October 19 Promo Blooding Book Reviews

October 26 Guest blog The Avid Reader

October 28 Interview Fang-tastic Books

October 29 Guest blog Roxanne’s Realm












Bewitching Book Tours

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Blog Tour: (Promo + Guest Post) Dudes Down Under By Suzannah Burke




I would like to welcome Suzannah Burke to The Avid Reader today. Thanks for stopping by Suzannah Burke. Please be sure and check out Suzannah Burke's novel Dudes Down Under. Check out my guest blog with Suzannah Burke on "Location, Location, Location".




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Dudes Down Under book cover

Book Title: Dudes Down Under

Author: Suzannah Burke

Series: Dudes Series Book One

Publisher: Taylor Street Books

Genre: Romantic Comedy

ISBN: 1475220715

ASIN: B007VIWXF4

Number of pages: 286

Word Count: 90,000







PURCHASE

Dudes Down Under




Amazon





BOOK DESCRIPTION

Dudes Down Under







Dudes Down Under, the most luxurious resort ever built. It sits on a privately owned Island on the Great Barrier Reef, off the northernmost region of Australia.

No cell-phones, no computers, no paparrazi.



The Menu:

The world’s most famous talk show hostess and the owner of the island sign a deal, the result; Hollywood's 'A' listers all vying for a chance to be the first guests.



The Method:

They pay half a million dollars for the privilege of being randomly chosen from a barrel of names on her programme.



The Ingredients:

The winners, include Hollywood’s foremost golden couple. His very unforgiving ex-wife.

The young hotel heiress with a habit of driving whilst drunk and little else to commend her. Blend in a couple of famous expatriate actors.

Add the tower owning king of power with an unfortunate hairstyle and attitude.

The television hostess and her film crew.



Add to the mixture:

The most politically incorrect bunch of Australian staff you are likely to meet, anywhere.



The dessert:

Cyril, who has impeccable dress sense, adores Al Pacino and Marlon Brando, drinks to excess, and has a fascinating attitude about well—everything! Well ... yes--he is a Crocodile, but he's family.

Blend the ingredients carefully then stand well back!

'Dudes Down Under' is waiting for you to arrive.








Guest Blog

Suzannah Burke




Location, Location Location!

When I began writing "Dudes Down Under' I knew that the location needed to be spectacular, serene and just downright beautiful.

Australia is my country, with a diversity of nature's beauty that astounds the many people that come here for a visit and never want to leave.

One of the most visually stunning locations is our Great Barrier Reef...sprinkled with tropical islands and laying in the pristine aqua waters of the Whitsunday passage in the South Pacific Ocean; I have had the privilege of living in these areas several times during my life and it's a place I return to as often as time and money allows.

Airlie Beach on the mainland is the gateway out to the reef. You can journey out by boat and visit the island resorts on day trips, or better yet take a helicopter ride and swoop in low over the reef to get some of the most stunning views imaginable. The larger islands have resorts catering to a cross range of $'s ...from the Moms and Dads plus the kids, to the ultimate in luxury for those with plenty of money to spend.

The islands are small, and the vegetation lush. Palm trees sweep down to the quiet lagoons and almost touch the blindingly white sand below. The lifestyle is laid back, serene and addictive. Picnic on the white sands under the shade of the palms, share a glass of Moet with a special someone...and then dive into the wonders of the world beneath the tropical sun.

At night look up into a sky heavy with the diamond lights of the stars and just breath in the sheer beauty of the place.

Do I love the place...? Oh, yes and yes again. I had a ball writing Dudes Down Under and the location I chose to set it in simply made it more pleasurable to write. Take a look at some of the pictures of The Great Barrier Reef and surrounds, and come on Down Under and experience the magic for yourself!









    About the Author



Dudes Down Under author

Authors are meant to enjoy talking about themselves, right? Wrong! It is so difficult to blow your own trumpet without sounding big-headed or apologetic or both at once … “I do apologize for sounding big-headed.” You get my drift? I can do this straight up or in my normal (Occasionally) manner.

So here we go…I have had the privilege of having 3 books published by Taylor Street Publishing. Books one and two are biographical and written under my pen name of Stacey Danson. ‘Empty Chairs’ and its sequel ‘Faint Echoes of Laughter’ have been well received and for that I will always be so very grateful. They are difficult books to read, dealing as they do with the explosive topic of Child abuse in its most horrific of forms. When I was writing Empty Chairs I badly needed a release of some sort; somewhere I could focus my mind apart from the memories I had to relive. ‘Dudes Down Under’ is the result.

The book is Romantic and dare I say it very funny in an over the top, off the wall, ‘what the hell did she just say?’ way. The characters I loved writing. They became my friends. They gave me an avenue to explore strong women, vulnerable men, and love with all its faults and foibles. They also allowed me to explore comedic writing to its fullest extent.

Reviewers tell me they cried laughing at the comedy … and at times simply cried. I have a sequel (Dudes Does Hollywood) in the planning stages.

I have also recently completed a psychological thriller…phew! Challenges are something I never avoid. Only time will tell if my exploration of different genres will be successful.







    ONLINE LINKS

Twitter

Blog

Amazon







Be sure and check out all the other stops on the tour.



TOUR SCHEDULE




October 15 Guest blog Lisa’s World of Books

October 16 Spotlight and review Steamy Reading

October 17 Interview A Writer's Mind

October 18 interview and review That's Erotica

October 19 Review Books, Books, and More Books

October 20 Guest blog For The Love Of Film And Novels

October 20 Promo smartmouthtexan

October 22 Review Books & Other Spells

October 25 Guest blog The Avid Reader

October 26 Interview Kay Dee Royal

October 27 Guest blog and review Always a Booklover

October 29 Interview Laurie’s Non-Paranormal












Bewitching Book Tours

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Blog Tour: (Review) Kavachi's Rise By Mike Kearby




I would like to welcome Mike Kearby to The Avid Reader today. Thanks for stopping by Mike Kearby. Please be sure and check out Mike Kearby's novel Kavachi's Rise. Check out my review and an excerpt of Kavachi's Rise.




Kavachi's Rise banner






Kavachi's Rise cover

Book Title: Kavachi's Rise

Author: Mike Kearby

Series: The Devouring #1

Publisher: Damnation Books

Genre: Horror, Thriller

Paperback/Ebook:

Publisher: Carina Press

Words: 56,000







PURCHASE

Kavachi's Rise




Damnation Books

Amazon

B&N





BOOK DESCRIPTION

Kavachi's Rise







A Dark Secret. Thomas Morehart and his sister, Kara are vampyre, not the undead, but creatures evolved over hundreds of thousands of years to mimic their prey, man. Then - rescued from a Nazi Prison Camp, Thomas and Kara are brought to the U.S. and forced to work inside government-owned mortuaries. Now -betrayed by the government sixty-seven years later, Thomas and Kara are in a race against time to transform back to their feral states or risk Exsanguination by government sanctioned hit squads.








EXCERPT

Kavachi's Rise




The soldiers knew this lieutenant. Knew of him, anyway. Nikolai Borisoff was his Russian name, but if all the rumors were true, nobody knew his real name. Others of his kind referred to him as, “Rom baro,” the big man. But in the stories he was known simply as the necromancer hunter.

“Shall we put him in with the others, sir?” one soldier asked.

Nikolai ignored the question and squared himself off to stand face-to-face with the prisoner. He stared into the darkness of the creature’s eyes. “How do you write yourself?” he asked in Amria.

The creature stopped rocking. He looked up and opened a dark pit of a mouth. A word tumbled out: “Death.”

Nikolai frowned, “But where are the others?”

Death tilted his head right and left, like a confused animal trying to make sense of an unfamiliar sound. After several seconds of the head movement, he parted leathery lips and emitted a rattling laugh.

“Others?”

“Yes, the others, like yourself.”

“Killed, dead. All meat.”

“In the showers?”

“A death they would have welcomed.”

Nikolai leaned back. He stared across his left shoulder, down the rows of barracks where the camp’s prisoners were being assembled. The 48thhad found only a handful of them, yet intelligence had said there would be thousands. Reports had indicated as many as twenty thousand. He turned back to Death.

“Where?” he asked.

Death lifted his chin toward the camp entrance. “There,” he whispered. “Only a short way from the death gate. Toward the sea.”

Nikolai looked past the gathered prisoners and through the opened gates of the camp. Pine and aspen lined the road for as far as he could see. He turned back, questioning, “In the woods?”

“In the ground.”

Nikolai frowned. “Can you show me?”

Death shook his head. “I prefer here. It’s very bad luck to go to that place.”

“Why?”

Death began to rock again. “It’s a madhouse filled with all kinds of madness.”

Nikolai studied Death’s face. “Then you’ve been there?”

Death wagged a finger in Nikolai’s direction. “Oh, I went there once. It might even have been twice or maybe three times. I can’t be sure, for the madness takes away one’s sensibility.”

“And your job there?”

“I helped push the carts back to this camp.”

“Back? What had been on the carts before?”

“Creatures.”

“And when you returned?”

“Shoes…and pyjamas…and hair.”

“And what of those who once wore the shoes and pyjamas and hair?”

Death rested his chin against his knees once more and resumed his monotonous cantillate. Then, just as quickly, stopped. It looked up at Nikolai. Its pupils contracted. “Porrajmos!”

Nikolai narrowed his eyes and pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze darted back to the front gate and to the forests outside. “Are you saying violate?”

Death’s face twisted. He screamed again, “Porrajmos!”

Nikolai shook his head and released his lip. “To open? To open one’s mouth?”

Death stopped rocking and stared ahead, rigid. His pupils dilated back to their dead state. He exhaled a short breath, then pushed his right index finger into a spot just below his right ear and directly above his jawbone. He held his finger in the spot for several breaths, as if to make sure Nikolai understood, then slowly dragged the finger down his neck to his collarbone.

Nikolai watched, fascinated at the visual. “Rip open?” he uttered.

Death shook his head, exasperated, exhaled a rattling breath, and motioned with an outstretched finger for Nikolai to lean close.

Nikolai stooped forward and turned an ear toward Death’s mouth.

A gush of stagnant air rushed from the man’s lips and flowed across Nikolai’s cheek and nose.

Nikolai jerked away from the dead gas -- and from the two words that had drifted on the offensive fumes. He sucked in a quick breath and jerked the pilotka from his head.

Death nodded blindly, as if pleased, and then started rocking again.

Nikolai could only stare at the living corpse swaying in front of him.

Porrajmos.

Such a simple word.

And when translated into Russian, two words: The devouring.





MY REVIEW

Kavachi's Rise




 

The following review is my opinion and not a paid review. I was given a copy of Kavachi's Rise from the author for a review via Full Moon Bites Book Tours.

Thomas has been taking care of his sister Kara ever since they had to go into hiding. They have had to keep who and what they are a secret from the government among others as well. Their race or species is almost extinct. Thomas and Kara are vampires but not your typical vampire as they do shapeshift.

As I was saying Kavachi's Rise is not your normal vampire book where boy falls in love with girl. Or there is two guys and the girl loves both of them and she is not sure which one she loves the most or is in love with. No Kavachi's Rise has a lot more twist and turns than your normal vampire book. It will definitely keep you on the edge of your seat wondering what are they going to do next.

If you are a conspiracist it will keep you wondering if they are any real vampires out there? And if they are could the government actually do to the vampires in real life as they did to Thomas and Kara? Let's think about it like this ok we have the CDC where they have all these different levels of diseases right? Ok we have no clue exactly what kind of or how many diseases that they do have. I mean they are not going tell us (the public) because they are afraid they would have a pandemic on their hands. They have bio weapons and who is to say that we (the public) knows about everyone that they have. I don't believe that we are anywhere close to knowing all the diseases that they study. Yeah I know by now most think I have lost it. But think about it.

If you like reading about vampires and conspiracies then I believe you would really enjoy reading Kavachi's Rise. With a mixture of vampires that shift and the government all rolled into one great story.









    About the Author



Kavachi's Rise author

From Wikipedia: Mike Kearby (born 1952) is an American novelist and inventor. Since 2005, Kearby has published ten novels, one graphic novel, and written two screenplays: (2011) Boston Nightly, with fellow writer Paul Bright and (2012) The Devouring. Boston Nightly is scheduled for filming in the spring of 2013.

Kearby was born in Mineral Wells, Texas, and received a B.S. from North Texas State University (now the University of North Texas) in 1972. He taught high school English and reading for 10 years and created ""The Collaborative Novella Project"" The project allows future authors to go through the novel writing process from idea to published work.

""Ambush at Mustang Canyon"" was a finalist for the 2008 Spur Awards.

""A Hundred Miles to Water"" was awarded the 2011 Will Rogers Medallion Award for Best Adult Fiction.

“Texas Tales Illustrated” was awarded the 2012 Will Rogers Medallion Award for Best YA Non-Fiction.







    ONLINE LINKS

Website

Twitter

Blog







Be sure and check out all the other stops on the tour.



TOUR SCHEDULE




Sept. 15th- A Bit of Dash (Review)

Sept. 16th- My Seryniti (Interview)

Sept. 17th- Books and Beauty (Guest Post)

Sept. 18th- Mallory Heart Reviews (Excerpt)

Sept. 19th- Howling Books and Design (Excerpt)

Sept. 20th- I am, Indeed (Interview)

Sept. 21st- Chaotic Book Corner (Review)

Sept. 22nd- RedHeaded BookWorm (Interview)

Sept. 23rd- Full Moon Bites (Interview)

Sept. 24th- Amy's Book World (Review)

Sept. 25th- Words I Write Crazy (Review)

Sept. 26th- Blood, Lust and Erotica (Interview/Excerpt)

Sept. 27th- Laurie's Paranormal Thoughts and Reviews (Author Interview)

Sept. 28th- FireStarBooks (Review)

Sept. 29th- Writing to be Read (Review)

Sept. 30th- All Things Books (Review)

Oct. 1st- Lizzy's Dark Fiction (Excerpt)

Oct. 2nd- Nazish Reads (Excerpt)

Oct. 3rd- Seventh Star Press (Review)

Oct. 4th- Paranormal Romance Fans for Life (Review)

Oct. 5th- Kharisma Rhayne (Excerpt)

Oct. 6th- Bookluvrs Haven (Excerpt)

Oct. 7th- Holly Adair (Excerpt)

Oct. 8th- Simply Infatuated (Excerpt)

Oct. 9th- Sweeping Me (Excerpt)

Oct. 10th- White Sky Project (Review)

Oct. 11th- Day Dreaming Book Reviews (Excerpt)

Oct. 12th- A Dream Within A Dream (Excerpt)

Oct. 13th- Reading wth Holly (Excerpt)

Oct. 14th- The Other Shelf (Excerpt)

Oct. 15th- Close Encounters with the Night Kind (Review/Excerpt)

Oct. 16th- Tricia Kristufek (Guest Post)

Oct. 17th- Book Review Club (Review/Guest Post)

Oct. 18th- Happy Tails & Tales (Interview/Excerpt)

Oct. 19th- My Seryniti (Excerpt)

Oct. 20th- I am, Indeed (Review)

Oct. 21st- RedHeaded BookWorm (Excerpt)

Oct. 22nd- The Bunny's Review (Review/Interview)

Oct. 23rd- Kristy Centeno (Excerpt)

Oct. 24th- The Avid Reader (Review)

Oct. 25th- Black Hippie Chick's Take on Books & The World (Review/Interview)

Oct. 26th- Laurie's Paranormal Thoughts & Reviews (Excerpt)

Oct. 27th- The Book Connoisseur (Excerpt)

Oct. 28th- The Ebook Reviewers (Review)

Oct. 29th- Wonderland Reviews (Review)

Oct. 30th- Juniper Grove (Interview)

Nov. 1st- Erotic Romance With a Bite...Leigh Savage (Interview/Excerpt)

Nov. 2nd- Mallory Heart Reviews (Review)

Nov. 3rd- TBD

Nov. 4th- TBD

Nov. 5th- My Cozie Corner (Review)

Nov. 6th- Beach Bum Reads (Review)

Nov. 7th- Bookishly Me (Guest Post)

Nov. 8th- Off the Page (Interview)

Nov. 9th- Keeping Up With The Rheinlander's (Review/Interview)

Nov. 10th- Book Lover's Hideaway (Review)

Nov. 11th- Meet Market (Review/Excerpt)

Nov. 12th- My Seryniti (Review)

Nov. 13th- 1889 Labs (Interview)

Nov. 14th- whoopeeyoo :D (Guest Post)

Nov. 15th- Waiting on Sunday to Drown (Review)







TOUR SCHEDULE LINK



This tour was put together by FMB Blog Tours

Wishlist Wednesday #29




Wishlist Wednesday is a book blog hop where we will post about one book per week that has been on our wishlist for some time, or just added (it's entirely up to you), that we can't wait to get off the wishlist and onto our wonderful shelves.







  • Follow Pen to Paper as host of the meme.
  • Please consider adding the blog hop button to your blog somewhere, so others can find it easily and join in too! Help spread the word! The code will be at the bottom of the post under the linky.
  • Pick a book from your wishlist that you are dying to get to put on your shelves.
  • Do a post telling your readers about the book and why it's on your wishlist.
  • Add your blog to the linky at the bottom of the post on Pen to Paper.
  • Put a link back to pen to paper somewhere in your post.
  • Visit the other blogs and enjoy!






On My Wishlist




Feed (Newsflesh, #1)
Title: Feed
Series: Newsflesh Trilogy
Author: Mira Grant
ebook:
Pages: 418
Published: May 1st 2010
Publisher: Orbit







Goodreads Synopsis




The year was 2014. We had cured cancer. We had beat the common cold. But in doing so we created something new, something terrible that no one could stop. The infection spread, virus blocks taking over bodies and minds with one, unstoppable command: FEED.

NOW, twenty years after the Rising, Georgia and Shaun Mason are on the trail of the biggest story of their lives-the dark conspiracy behind the infected. The truth will out, even if it kills them.





Why did I choose Feed for this weeks Wishlist Wednesday?



It is about two bloggers trying to find out how the zombie apocalypse started. They want the world to know that the infection is a conspiracy. Oh and of course I love zombies and apocalyptic novels.





Look for Mira Grant on the web


Goodreads - Mira Grant

Goodreads - Feed

Web Site - Mira Grant

Twitter - Mira Grant

Facebook - Mira Grant





What is on your Wishlist Wednesday?

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Top Ten Tuesday #28










Top Ten Tuesday is an original feature/weekly meme created here at The Broke and the Bookish. This feature was created because we are particularly fond of lists here at The Broke and the Bookish. We'd love to share our lists with other bookish folks and Each week we will post a new Top Ten list that one of our bloggers here at The Broke and would LOVE to see your top ten lists! the Bookish will answer. Everyone is welcome to join. All we ask is that you link back to The Broke and the Bookish on your own Top Ten Tuesday post AND add your name to the Linky widget so that everyone can check out other bloggers lists! If you don't have a blog, just post your answers as a comment. Have fun with it! It's a fun way to get to know your fellow bloggers.




For future Top Ten Tuesday topics, check them out here!

This weeks Top Ten List

Top Ten Books To Get In The Halloween Spirit





I picked each book on my list because they are about witches. For me to get into the Halloween Spirit I need to read a good book that is about a witch or witches.





  1. Witchblood (Witchblood Series #1) By Emma Mills


  2. Witchcraft (Witchblood Series #2) By Emma Mills


  3. The Witching Pen (Witching Pen Novellas #1) By Dianna Hardy


  4. The Sands Of Time (Witching Pen Novellas #2) By Dianna Hardy


  5. The Demon Bride (Book Three of The Witching Pen Novellas) By Dianna Hardy


  6. Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie She's Dead By Christiana Miller


  7. THE FOREVER GIRL (Forever Girl Series #1) By Rebecca Hamilton


  8. Tales of Aradia The Last Witch Volume 1 By L.A. Jones


  9. The Near Witch (The Near Witch) By Victoria Schwab


  10. The Burning of Isobel Key By Jen McConnel








What is on your Top Ten?

Monday, October 22, 2012

Blog Tour: (Review + Guest Post) The Vampire Hunters By Scott M. Baker




I would like to welcome Scott M. Baker to The Avid Reader today. Thanks for stopping by Scott M. Baker. Please be sure and check out Scott M. Baker's novel The Vampire Hunters Book #1 in the Vampire Hunters Trilogy. Check out my guest blog with Scott M. Baker on Vampires: The Monster Within Us.




The Vampire Hunters banner






The Vampire Hunters cover

Book Title: The Vampire Hunters

Author: Scott M. Baker

Series: Vampire Hunters

Published: November 1st 2010

ebook:

Pages: 248










BLURB

The Vampire Hunters




As former Boston cops, Drake Matthews and Alison Monroe thought they had experienced it all... until they found themselves tracking down a serial killer who turned out to be one of the undead. Stopping him cost them their careers and almost their lives.  Thanks to an influential and anonymous benefactor, Drake and Alison find a new job ridding the streets of Washington D.C. of the vampiric threat terrorizing the nation's capital. 

Only this time, Drake and Alison are not facing a single vampire but an entire nest led by Ion Zielenska, one of history's most evil and twisted masters.  As the vampires indiscriminately prey on humans, seeing them as nothing more than food to satiate their hunger, they create a wave of violence that threatens to engulf the city.  Orchestrating the carnage is Antoinette Varela, the mistress of the nest,who realizes that for the nest to survive the hunters must be eliminated.  However, when her vendetta turns personal, the hunters find themselves in struggle they are not prepared for.




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EXCERPT

The Vampire Hunters




 

As the adversaries faced off, the train pulled into Foggy Bottom Station.  The passengers practically pulled the doors open to escape.  When the doors finally did open, they ran out onto the platform and dashed to safety.  Seconds later, the doors slid shut and the train began to pull out of the station.

            

“Well, bitch,” taunted Alison.  “It’s just you and me.”

           

 “That suits me fine.”  Toni hissed and sprinted down the rail car.

            

Alison pushed off the deck with her left foot and spun her body around, slamming her right foot into Toni’s head in a tornado kick.  The master careened to the side and stumbled between two rows of seats, smashing the window, momentarily stunned.  Pulling a stake from her belt holster, Alison ran between the seats and raised the stake to inflict the fatal blow.  Toni’s hand shot up and grabbed Alison by the wrist.  With one thrust, Toni threw the hunter over three sets of seats.  Alison landed on her right shoulder in the opening by the doors, sliding across the deck until her back slammed into the center pole.   

          

  Toni flew over the seats and landed on top of Alison’s chest, knocking the wind out of her.  The master pushed herself down on Alison, pinning the hunter’s pelvis to the floor with her own, then ripped open Alison’s blouse to expose her neck.  Bearing her fangs, Toni leaned over, pausing only inches from the Alison’s neck.

           

 “Relax, hunter.  In a few moments, you’ll be one of us.”

           

 “Not if I have anything to say about it,” a voice shouted from behind Toni.

           

 Toni looked up to see Drake standing at the opposite end of the car.  She snarled.  “You have nothing to say about it.  She’s ours now.”








FIRST CHAPTER

The Vampire Hunters




Even at ten in the evening, Union Station thrived with activity. Despite the hour, scores of people bustled around the main concourse. Passengers disembarking from, or waiting to board, their late-night train. Family and friends gathered to greet them or see them off. Porters hauling luggage to the appropriate platform. Cleaning crews sweeping the concourse and emptying trash cans. Shop owners peddling books, magazines, and last-minute souvenirs to weary travelers. And a vampire on the prowl for food.

Drake originally picked up its trail on the Mall, a prime hunting ground for vampires. Spotting the thing had been easy enough. On a balmy autumn night it was the only figure along the Mall wearing a soiled red windbreaker with the hood pulled tightly over its head. Before Drake could close in to verify and make the kill, however, the vampire strayed from its usual pattern. Leaving the Mall, the vampire set off into downtown Washington, following Constitution Avenue, a route that provided it with more opportunities to feed. Drake had followed at a discrete distance, waiting for a chance to corner the evil and eliminate it. With so many people around, though, that chance had not materialized. When the vampire turned onto Louisiana Avenue and headed for Union Station, Drake hurried to catch up. He was still far enough behind that when he entered the train station fifteen seconds after the vampire, the thing already had melted into the crowd.

Drake now wandered the concourse, hunting his undead prey. That turned out to be far from easy. Union Station had two levels, each with a labyrinthine maze of corridors housing gift shops and food stalls. Beyond the station lay a multi-level parking garage, loading platforms, and maintenance yard. Drake scanned the area, vainly looking for a figure in a red windbreaker. So as not to look suspicious, he stopped occasionally at a bank of computer monitors listing the arrival/departure notifications as if checking on a train’s status, and used the chance to scan waiting passengers.

He had just stepped away from a bank of monitors at the west end of the concourse when the cellular phone in the carry case on his belt began to ring. Only one person had the number—Alison Monroe. She had followed him from the Mall in their midnight-black Dodge Ram and now sat parked in front of Union Station, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Drake reached down and pressed the CALL button, then spoke into the microphone of his headset.

“What’s up?”

“Any luck?”

“Nothing.” Drake sighed.

“Sounds like par for the course for you,” she teased.

Drake smiled. “If you think you can do better, you’re welcome to try. I’d love to sit in the truck once in awhile and let you do the boots on the ground.”

A chuckle came through the headset. “Sorry, boss. You don’t pay me enough for that shit. So what do we do now?”

“I’m beginning to think our friend was on to being tailed, and led us here so he could lose us.”

“You want me to circle the station and see if I can spot him?”

“No. Sit tight for now. I want to give the station one more sweep, then....”

Drake sniffed. Almonds. No. More like ammonia. The smell of the putrefying flesh of a vampire.

“Boss, are you okay?”

“Hang on. I may be on to something.” Drake searched the concourse and spotted a figure in a red windbreaker as it disappeared into the men’s bathroom. Breaking into a jog, Drake headed after it. “I think I’ve found our friend.”

“Be careful.”

As Drake approached the men’s bathroom, he slowed his pace and looked around. No one was paying any attention to him. Reaching under his leather jacket, he pulled out one of the three wooden stakes he kept secure in a special pouch stitched into the jacket lining. Holding the base so the shaft rested against his right wrist and inner arm, he stepped into the bathroom.

The place reeked of decomposed flesh and the acrid smell of urine. Drake swallowed hard to force down the nausea that welled up in his throat. No one stood at the urinals. Keeping his back to the wall, Drake quietly moved across the bathroom to the section containing the stalls. Still no one. He stopped to listen, but only heard the whirring of an exhaust fan and the flow of running water from a broken toilet.

And a whimper.

Dropping to one knee and bending over, Drake examined the stalls. The last one on the right contained two sets of legs. He stood and raced to the stall, kicking open the door. A young boy, no more than twelve, sprawled backwards on the toilet, paralyzed with fear. The thing in the red windbreaker towered over the child, its head inches from the boy‘s neck. One hand with talon-like fingernails pushed down on the boy’s shoulder while the other pushed his head in the opposite direction, exposing the youngster’s throat.

At the intrusion, the thing turned to glare at Drake. It had a pallid face straight from the depths of hell. Black matted hair hung over a slightly-protruding and deeply-furrowed forehead. A pair of blood-red eyes, the yellow pupils of which seemed to glow, leered from sunken sockets. A set of upper and lower fangs had replaced the cuspids, each fang two inches long and razor sharp. The sunken cheeks and gray pallor indicated that the thing had not eaten in a while. And it was not happy about being disturbed in the middle of a meal. Its cracked lips drew back in a snarl as an animalistic hiss filled the stall.

Drake raised his arm to plunge the stake into the vampire. The thing lunged at him unexpectedly, its hands connecting with Drake’s chest and throwing him backwards with the force of three men. Drake sailed across the bathroom, crashing through the door of the opposite stall and slamming into the toilet tank. Luckily, he kept his grip on the stake. Despite the pain and disorientation, he raised the stake to defend himself. Instead of pursuing its attack, the vampire hissed at Drake and bolted for the exit.

Drake scrambled to his feet and raced into the concourse in time to see the vampire duck into a walkway between a pair of stores, heading for the main entrance. Drake took off after it.

“Alison!” Drake practically yelled into the headset. “I have a snuffy heading for the main entrance. Cut him off.”

No response.

“Alison!”

Still nothing. Reaching for the cellular phone, his hand touched the empty carrying case and the dangling cord of the headset. Great. Things were going from bad to worse.

Out in the Ram, Alison listened to the battle unfold. She heard the metallic clang of the stall door being kicked open, followed by a hiss and bodily contact. Then the connection went dead.

“Boss, are you there? Boss?”

Reaching into the gym bag on the passenger seat, Alison pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and opened the breech to make sure it was loaded with the special ammo—two shells, the pellets of which had been soaked in holy water. She snapped the barrel closed and reached for the door handle.

Alison saw the vampire race out of Union Station onto the sidewalk. It frantically looked around for a means of escape, and found it. A tanker truck sat idle farther down Massachusetts Avenue, its flashers blinking. The driver stood near the cab asking directions from a young man in a business suit. Running over to the truck, the vampire began to crawl up into the cab. The driver, a burly man weighing at least two hundred and fifty pounds, grabbed the vampire by the shoulders and pulled it back into the street. Spinning around, the vampire clutched the driver by his neck and hurled him across the street into the side of a parked SUV. Even from this distance, Alison heard the metallic thud and the shattering of glass. The vampire turned to confront the young man in the business suit, but he and several other bystanders already had started running. In what seemed like a single flowing motion, the vampire climbed up into the cab and slid in behind the steering wheel. With a hiss of airbrakes, the truck pulled out onto Massachusetts Avenue.

Alison watched as Drake emerged from Union Station, his attention being immediately drawn to the commotion to his right. Without hesitating, he raced off after the truck, trying to reach the cab. He made it as far as the rear wheels of the tanker when the truck shifted gears and accelerated. Cutting in behind the trailer as it passed by, Drake grabbed the rear access ladder and jumped on. He paused just long enough to make sure of his footing, then started to climb.

Shifting into drive, Alison pushed her foot down on the accelerator. The Ram’s engine thundered to life. She set off after the truck.

“He definitely doesn’t pay me enough for this shit.”

Drake pulled his way to the top of the ladder just as they rolled past Georgetown Law School. From this vantage point, he saw a slow-moving Cadillac in the left lane blocking their path. Drake felt the truck shift gears and increase speed. Moments later, a jolt rocked the entire trailer as the cab slammed into the car, propelling it forward. Rather than attempt to get out of the way, however, the Cadillac’s driver panicked and applied his brakes. This time the truck crashed into the Cadillac. The second, heavier jolt caused Drake to lose his footing and nearly fall off of the ladder.

A sickening screech of metal scraping against metal made Drake look up. Being pushed along by the truck, the Cadillac lost control. Its front end swayed back and forth, then finally veered sharply to the right. The car almost made it out of the way when the truck rammed into its rear wheel well. The Cadillac spun around in a near one hundred and eighty degree turn until its front end slid underneath the truck’s tandem wheels.

Drake held on tight. The trailer hooked the Cadillac’s front end and dragged it sideways down Massachusetts Avenue, the grinding and crunching of metal providing the perfect accompaniment to the firework of sparks. Suddenly, the tandem wheels obtained a grip on the Cadillac’s mangled hood, rode over its front end, and came down on the other side with a loud crash. Still hanging on, Drake was thrown around like a piñata, his knees and ankles banging against the metal ladder. Bolts of pain shot through his legs.

The truck made a sharp turn to the left. For a moment, Drake thought the vampire had lost control and that they were about to overturn. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a red, white, and blue Interstate Highway shield with the number 395 emblazoned across it. They were leaving the city and heading for the open road.

Things had just gone from worse to horrible.

Alison gasped as the truck entered into the sharp turn. Not only because it nearly tipped over, but because the maneuver cut directly across the path of oncoming traffic. Half a dozen cars hit their brakes to avoid an accident, with two of the cars being rear-ended by the vehicles behind them. A Toyota Corolla speeding out of the street on the right entered the intersection just as the truck did, and was barely able to stop in time to avoid a collision. Unfortunately, the driver of the Metrobus behind him, his attention momentarily distracted by a rowdy group of teenagers in the rear, did not. The Metrobus slammed into the Toyota, shoving it directly into the path of the truck. Because of the steep turn, the truck hit the Toyota at an angle, shearing off the front end and spreading pieces of engine and shards of chassis for nearly one hundred feet.

Alison lifted her foot off the accelerator, slowly winding her way through the debris, then again applied gas once into the turn. By the time the two vehicles were onto Route 395, she was only one hundred feet behind the truck. She watched as Drake regained his footing and pulled himself on top of the tanker. With his knees bent and leaning forward to maintain balance, he began to inch his way along the thin metal catwalk running the length of the tanker.

Alison’s eyes grew wide. She slammed her hand against the horn.

Drake heard the signal from Alison. Relieved to have her nearby, he turned and acknowledged her with a wave. From inside the Ram, Alison frantically pointed in front of him.

Drake turned to see the cement revetment of the E Street overpass hurtling toward him. He fell forward onto the catwalk a split second before the revetment whizzed by overhead, missing him by inches. He paused for a few seconds, taking several deep breaths to regain his composure. Then, lifting himself onto his hands and knees, he resumed crawling along the catwalk.

Drake did not see the approaching merge with the Southeast Freeway, and was not prepared when the truck swerved left onto the entry ramp. The force of the turn knocked Drake off balance and he tumbled off the catwalk. Instinctively, he reached out to grab something, and his right hand clutched the small safety rail that ran parallel to the catwalk. Dangling off the side of the truck, he could see the cement jersey barriers racing by a few feet beneath him. Drake lunged his left hand upward, trying to grab the safety rail, but missed. He tried again without success. He could feel his fingers going numb. Mustering all his strength, he made one final lunge for the safety rail and grasped it. That was as far as Drake got. The curved metal surface of the tanker provided no traction for him to crawl back up.

Alison quickly tried to calculate what the next move should be, but drew a blank. The Southeast Freeway had only two lanes, which were even further restricted by a wall of jersey barriers lining the shoulder of each lane. To move alongside the truck now would put her in too great a danger of being sideswiped, knocking her out of the game just when the boss needed her most. No. She would have to wait and make her move after they reached a more open road.

The truck suddenly veered right, entering the off ramp for the Kevin J. Welsh Memorial Bridge. Once across the bridge and outside of the city, the truck increased speed to seventy miles per hour.

Alison noticed the flashing blue lights reflecting off the interior of the Ram’s cab before she heard the sirens. Glancing into the rearview mirror, she saw two D.C. police cars in pursuit and rapidly closing the distance. As if she already did not have enough to worry about.

Pushing her foot all the way down on the accelerator, she moved into position to help Drake.

The vampire noticed the flashing blues at the same time Alison did, and looked into the side mirror. Then he noticed Drake hanging off the tanker. Their gazes met in the mirror’s reflection. For a second, each opponent glared at the other. Then the vampire’s eyes narrowed into blood red slits and his lifeless lips sneered.

For Drake, things went from horrible to FUBAR.

The truck suddenly swung left and back again. Drake’s body slammed against the tanker, the pain so intense he thought his abdomen might explode. He tried lifting his right leg to the upper curve of the tanker, desperately hoping to gain a foothold, but the truck again lurched to the left. And again Drake slammed off the side of the tanker. He felt his grip weakening.

Both Drake and the vampire saw what was ahead of them at the same time. Approximately five hundred feet ahead of them, a red Nissan pick-up cruised along at fifty miles per hour, its flashers blinking. Two large red flags had been placed on either side of the bed. A yellow banner draped over the tailgate bore the words WIDE LOAD. Ahead of the Nissan, a tractor trailer plodded down the center of the highway, a cut-away section of a single-story house extending three feet over either side of the flatbed.

A single thought went through Drake’s mind. Shit!

The vampire steered to the right. The tanker converged on the Nissan like a wolf on its prey. Fortunately, the Nissan’s driver saw the approaching danger and moved into the breakdown lane where he came to a stop. The tanker roared past the Nissan and began to overtake the flatbed on its right side. When the two trucks were side by side, the vampire steered back to the left. The driver of the flatbed attempted to move out of the way, but the vampire continued to follow.

Drake anticipated the move. When the gap between the two trucks closed, he turned to one side and pulled his legs up against his chest, straining every muscle to sustain this semi-fetal position. The trucks collided where Drake’s legs were a moment earlier. The house section snapped and splintered as the tanker tore along its length, showering Drake in shards and chunks of broken wood. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, the tanker passed by the flatbed and continued down the freeway.

But the damage had been done. The collision had shifted the house section so that more than six feet extended over the flatbed’s left rim. When the driver tried to pull into the left breakdown lane, the rear quarter of the house section slid onto the road and dragged along the pavement, pulling it almost completely off the flatbed. The driver stopped with a deafening huff from the airbrakes, the truck blocking the right lanes and the house section blocking the left.

Alison had a split second to make her decision. Shifting into low gear, she aimed for the spot just behind the flatbed where the damaged house section still clung to it. Closing her eyes and lowering her head behind the steering wheel, she braced for the collision. A heavy jolt rocked the Ram, accompanied by the sounds of splintering wood, scraping metal, and fracturing glass. When she looked up, a huge spider web-like crack covered the left portion of the windshield. But she had made it through. Even better, a large debris field covered most of the left two lanes of the highway. While one police car stopped to attend to the accident site, the other slowed to a near crawl as it negotiated the scene.

If she wanted to save the boss, it was now or never while she still had an open road and no police interference.

She saw the tanker a good half mile in the lead and pulling away rapidly. Alison accelerated again, trying to ignore the whistling wind and shards of loose glass coming from the damaged windshield. She reached over and grabbed the shotgun.

No one was more surprised than Drake that he still clung to the side of the tanker. The vampire had stopped trying to knock him off. Not that it mattered. He could feel his arms and hands going numb, and knew he would not be able to hold on much longer. Out of the corner of his eye, Drake saw Alison begin to pass the tanker on the left as they entered the off ramp for the Inner Loop of the Beltway. She raced along the off ramp’s shoulder, staying just far enough to the rear so that she would not be spotted by the vampire while they made the turn. At the last second, she gunned it so that the Ram pulled even with the cab as they merged onto the Beltway. Racing from the off ramp at over sixty miles per hour, both vehicles cut off several cars and trucks. Tires screeched and horns blared as traffic swerved to avoid an accident, forcing all four lanes of the Beltway to a stop. Good, thought Drake. Now they would not have to worry about innocent bystanders.

They were only half a mile from the Woodrow Wilson Bridge.

Alison let go of the steering wheel just long enough to blare the horn. The vampire turned to look, and stared into the twin barrels of the shotgun.

Alison pulled the trigger.

The thunderous roar and flash from the gunpowder momentarily blinded her. When the smoke cleared, the remains of the vampire’s head stared back at her. The face and top of its skull had been blown away, leaving large flaps of dead flesh that folded backwards like the petals of a gory flower. Its lower jaw remained intact as well as a fragment of the upper left jaw that hung loosely, still attached to a strand of flesh. Whiffs of white smoke drifted upwards from the mass of gore as the holy water reacted with pure evil. The vampire tried to hiss, both out of pain and hatred, but could only manage a bloody gurgle. Instead, it turned back to the road and futilely tried to steer.

Alison dropped her speed just enough to fall back parallel with the tanker, then slid as close as possible to the vehicle, placing the bed directly under the dangling Drake. The truck started swaying, grinding the tanker against the Ram and threatening to push it away. Alison steered into the tanker and blared the horn.

Drake let go. He dropped into the Ram’s bed with a heavy thud that knocked the wind out of him. Looking up, he saw the tandem wheels of the tanker only a few feet away, threatening to crush the Ram’s bed and him with it. Alison pulled into the center of the Beltway and slowed. When the Ram came to a stop, Drake stood up, ignoring the throbbing in his legs and knees and back, anxious to see what happened next. Alison stepped out of the cab and stood by the open door.

Entering the approaches to the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, the vampire attempted to keep the tanker straight, but had no way of knowing that the far right lane was closed for construction. The truck hit the jersey barriers and careened to the left at a forty-five degree angle. Not knowing what it had hit, the creature instinctively turned the steering wheel back to the right, sideswiping the barrier a second time. The cab spun one hundred and eighty degrees. The tanker, however, continued traveling straight. Ripping itself free from the trailer connection, the tanker bounced over the cab’s rear chassis and up onto the jersey barrier. The grinding of metal against cement accompanied a panorama of sparks, but only for a few seconds. The hull of the tanker ruptured under the pressure, spewing forth a stream of gasoline that was immediately ignited by the sparks. Drake watched the tanker erupt into a mushroom cloud of orange-red flames and oily smoke.

A few seconds later, a headless figure staggered through the inferno that rapidly spread across the bridge. Engulfed by flames so intense that even cement and metal melted, the thing should already be destroyed. Yet it fought to survive. With each step, strips of dead flesh seared off and blew away, revealing muscles and organs that shriveled in the heat. Finally yielding to the inevitable, the vampire stopped. It let out a guttural howl from its shattered, burnt throat that sounded as if it had come straight from the depths of hell. The howling stopped only when the body crumbled into dust, which was instantly blown apart by the intense winds caused by the conflagration.

Only then did Drake become aware of the flashing red and blue lights reflecting off the metallic surface of the Ram. Alison stood facing to the rear, her hands clasped behind her head. A sharp, angry voice focused Drake’s concentration.

“You on the pick-up. I said place your hands behind your head and turn around. Now!”

In one slow motion, Drake turned around and raised his hands behind his head until his fingers interlocked. One of the police cars that had been chasing them sat twenty feet away. Two police officers stood by the front of the car, their pistols trained on Drake and Alison.

The older of the two cops, a muscular Hispanic with Rodriguez displayed on his nameplate, used the same angry voice on Drake again. “Get off the pick-up, slowly, and move beside your girlfriend.”

Drake complied. The two cops cautiously moved closer. Then the Hispanic sighed and rolled his eyes. “Oh, Christ. I should have known.”

“What do you mean?” asked his partner.

“You’re in the presence of a celebrity,” Rodriguez said sarcastically. “You’re about to arrest Drake Matthews.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. You’ll get sick of him soon enough.” Holstering his pistol, Rodriguez removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt and motioned for Drake to turn around. “I assume you won’t give me any trouble?”

Drake turned and lowered his hands behind his back. “Do I ever?”










GUEST BLOG

Vampires: The Monster Within Us




Vampires and zombies are the “in” monsters right now, which is perfect for me since that’s what I mostly write about. Despite their mutual popularity, they are two entirely different sets of subgenres. Zombie fiction appeals to our morbid fascination with the end of society. Everything we know and take for granted comes to a sudden, vicious end. Those who live through the outbreak have to adapt and exist in a devastated world that has no rules or reason. In its essence, zombie fiction is apocalyptic fiction. In many ways, the zombies represent those of us who will lose all touch with reality following the end of mankind and will shamble along with no sanity or spirit.

Vampires are on the other end of the spectrum. They appeal to our subconscious urge to give free reign to our darkest desires.

Vampires are the only human-derived monsters that enjoy their fate. I’ve never read a book or seen a movie in which a character wanted to become a zombie. Those cursed with lycanthropy are usually guilt ridden over their actions and attempt to find ways to contain their affliction. And while Mr. Hyde revels in his depravity, he is always at odds with the gentler Dr. Jekyll who tries to regain control of his twisted inner self. Yet in almost every contemporary vampire movie or novel, you will find characters who desperately want to join the ranks of the undead.

This abandoning of our souls to these inner urges that polite society forces us to repress is not a modern phenomenon. Most scholars agree that Bram Stoker’s Dracula represents the sexual tension that had been repressed during the Victorian era. When Hollywood transferred this classic to the silver screen, the censors required that the sexuality be subdued. Nonetheless, the actors who portrayed the Lord of Darkness in Universal Studio’s various incantations of the legend in the 1930s and 1940s, most notably Bela Lugosi and John Carradine, brought an elegance and sensual appeal to the role that gave the character much greater depth than just a mere monster. Christopher Lee portrayed Dracula as a malevolent creature of pure evil, yet still brought a virility to the role that to this day ranks him among the “sexiest” vampires of all time. Today the subtlety of underlying eroticism has been lost on audiences who have come to expect the most attractive actors and actresses to play the undead, such as Kate Beckinsale in Underworld or Gerard Butler in Dracula 2000.

The other aspect of this unbridled passion is the penchant for aggression. As Hollywood has cranked up the sexual intensity in vampire movies over the past forty years, the level of violence has kept pace. Whereas Stoker was content to terrorize a few Transylvanian villages or London, that would bore audiences today. Blood feuds, wars with werewolves, human hunts, and world domination are standard fair in contemporary vampire fiction. Yet the penchant for chaos is not merely for the sake of chaos. Like with their carnal urges, vampires are free to express their inner desire for hostility without the filters of morality and conscience. In most cases, the undead don’t want to destroy the world, but enjoy it in their own demented fashion. This is perfectly expressed in the second season of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. For almost an entire season, Spike, Drusilla, and Angelus go on a rampage throughout Springfield. When faced with Angelus wanting to destroy the world, Spike balks and tells Buffy: “The truth is, I like this world. You’ve got dog racing. Manchester United. And you’ve got people. Billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs. It’s all right here.”

I explore this desire to follow one’s basest instincts in my own vampires in The Vampire Hunters trilogy. Antoinette is the sadistic mistress of the coven who wages a personal and brutal vendetta against the hunters and the ones they love. Walker, an African prince who was captured and made the slave of an abusive mullah in Antioch, willingly seeks out a vampire to turn him so he can enact revenge on his former master. Melinda, a thirteen-year-old who was tortured and molested by a town elder in Puritan Salem and eventually begs to become one of the undead to end her suffering, at which point she begins to prey on children and pedophiles. And Treja, turned during an act of extreme violence, now molests his female victims before draining them of blood.

That lust for decadence has allowed for a greater diversity of vampire stories than any other subgenre within horror. But I’ll discuss that in my next blog.










MY REVIEW

The Vampire Hunters




 

The following review is my opinion and not a paid review. I was given a copy of The Vampire Hunters from the author for a review via Innovative Online Book Tours.

 

I don't usually read books that are about the vampire hunters but the ones that are about vampires. You know like where the vampires are like the good guys or can be. They can pass as human as long as they don't show their fangs. And the heroine of the story falls in love with the vampire. Well this story is not like that not where the girl falls in love with the vampire. No this vampire story is about the girl hunting the vampires to kill them.

Drake and Alison are the vampire hunters they are former cops that worked for the Boston police department. They lost their jobs and almost their lives chasing down a vampire that they thought was a serial killer. But things work out for Drake and Alison after they lose their jobs. They are hired by an unknown to move and work in Washington, D.C. to track down and kill not one vampire but a whole coven of vampires.

I never thought that I would actually like reading a book about vampire hunters. I always want to read books where the vampires can be the good guy too. Where they can live as human most of the time and fall in love with the heroine. Well as long as there is not too much romance involved. I like my books to have a lot of action and at least a good story plot. But you know what? I have just found out that I do like reading about the hunters as well. I can't wait to get started on reading the 2nd book Vampyrnomicon.










AUTHOR BIO




Born and raised in Everett, Massachusetts (just outside of Boston), Scott M. Baker has spent the last twenty-two years living in northern Virginia.  He has authored several short stories, including “Dead Water”, “Rednecks Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”, “Cruise of the Living Dead”, “Deck the Malls with Bowels of Holly” (an alcoholic mall Santa battles zombie reindeer), and “Denizens.”  His two latest short stories – “The Last Flight of The Bismarck,” about steampunk zombies, and “The Hunger,” a tale of cannibalism during a zombie outbreak – will both be released later this year in anthologies being published by Knighwatch Press. 

Scott’s first zombie novel, Rotter World, which details the struggle between humans and vampires during a zombie apocalypse, was released by Permuted Press in April 2012.  He has also authored The Vampire Hunters trilogy, which has been published by Pill Hill Press and received excellent reviews from Famous Monsters of Filmland and Fangoria, among others. Scott has finished his fifth novel, Yeitso, a homage to the monster movies of the 1950s set in northern New Mexico, which is currently with a publisher, and is wrapping up his sixth novel, Hell Gates, the first in a series of young adult novels set in a world in which the realms of Hell and earth have merged.  

When he is not busy writing, Scott can either be found relaxing on his back deck with a cup of iced coffee, or doting on the four house rabbits that live with him. 







ONLINE LINKS

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BOOK TRAILERS

The Vampire Hunters

Vampyrnomicon

The Vampire Hunters Trilogy




Be sure and check out all the other stops on the tour.



TOUR SCHEDULE

10/22 The Avid Reader Review and Guest Post

10/23 The Insane Writings of a Crazed Writer Review and Interview

10/24 Genre Wench Review

10/25 Beauty in Ruins Review

10/26 Queen of the Night Reviews Review

10/26 Identity Discovery Review

10/29 Happy Tails and Tales Review and interview

10/30 Keeping Up With The Rheinlander's Review

10/31 Everyone Loves A SiNner Review

10/31 Full Moon Bites Review

11/1 YA Between the Lines Review and Guest Post

11/1 My Cozie Corner Review

11/1 Harlie's Books Review

11/1 Krystal's Enchanting Reads Review

11/2 Tea and Book Review and guest post

11/2 Lissette E. Manning Review

11/2 Kara Loves Reading Review

11/2 DanaSquare Review







Innovative Online Book Tours, Innovative Online Book Tours

Blog A Quote #21







Blog A Quote is weekly meme hosted by Michelle Chew Writes. Each week we will be sharing a quote from our favorite books. For more info and to sign up visit Michelle Chew Writes.





My quote for this week



'Salem's Lot
'Salem's Lot By Stephen King



“Only library books speak with such wordless eloquence of the power good stories hold over us.”









Another quote by one of my favorite authors. I think 'Salem's Lot was the first novel that I read about vampires. The vampires have certainly changed since Stephen King wrote 'Salem's Lot.









What is your favorite quote?