Roxanne Rhoads: 5/18/14

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Vanilla on Top by CJ Ellisson On Sale for .99

Vanilla on Top

Walk on the Wild Side

Heather and Tony

Book 1
C.J. Ellisson

Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance

Publisher: Entangled

Date of Publication: Jan 2013

ISBN: 9781622667987

ASIN: B00BFQEFPY

Number of pages: 260

Word Count: 65k

Amazon US Amazon Canada

Amazon UK Kobo Apple BN

Book Description:

Discover your inner bad girl, and set her free...

Heather Pierce is done being a wallflower, both personally and professionally. Desperate to live a different life for one night, she attends a speed dating event. Maybe here, anonymous unless she chooses otherwise, she can become someone new. When a man way out of her league sits across from her, Heather gathers her courage and takes charge of what she wants, secretly fearing he won't desire the real person she's desperate to hide.

Top acquisitions officer and international playboy Tony Carmine is about to close the biggest deal of his career. But then he meets Heather at a speed dating event . . . and discovers losing control may be exactly what he needs. Her blossoming sensuality occupies his every thought, consuming him with the need to possess the most intriguing lover he's ever encountered-until he walks into the boardroom and sees Heather on the other side of the negotiating table.

Excerpt:

The door creaks open and Tony steps out. You can do this, Heather. Take command. Tell him what you want. Tell him what to do, just like he said he wants. Now or never.

I smirk with a confidence I’m not completely feeling. “Nice of you to join me, Tony.” I relax against the brick and check him over from head to foot, making sure he knows with just my eyes exactly how desirable I find him. You can do this, don’t panic. He won’t laugh at you.

I nod toward the stacked chairs. “Take off your coat.” He slips the expensive garment from his shoulders, pulling the starched fabric of his shirt across his defined chest. I nod my approval and his eyes glint with desire in the dimming light.

He smiles, seemingly eager to play whatever game I’ve got in mind. “Anything else?”

I push down my inner anxiety and grin, in what I hope is a teasing manner. “Your tie.”

His eyebrows shoot up, but he loosens the knot and pulls the material free. The red silk slides over his shirt, and then is tossed carelessly toward his coat.

Holy crap, he’s doing it. He’s listening to me. What now?

“Unbutton the top two buttons of your shirt.” The command springs unbidden to my thoughts.

He complies and reveals the golden skin below his throat, with a few stray chest hairs visible near the neck of his undershirt. He looks so good I’d like to grab his shirt and rip it open, licking the skin as it’s uncovered.

Holy cow, where did that come from? I’m not this aggressive woman I’m pretending to be.

“How’s that?” he asks.

My pulse pounds so loudly in my ears I can only nod, afraid I’ll give too much away if I answer. I clear my throat, reaching for nonchalance. “It’ll do.” My hands slide to my hips and I take the plunge, pouring every ounce of courage I possess into my next actions.

I grab my skirt’s black material and work it slowly up my thighs. Tony’s eyes grow round as he follows my movements.

“Get down on your knees,” I say, forcing out my voice in a firm tone.

About the Author:

C.J. Ellisson is the USA Today Bestselling author of the New York Times Bestselling book, Vanilla on Top, the bestselling V V Inn series, and several erotica shorts. She lives in northern Virginia with her husband, two children, three dogs, and a fluffy black cat who makes her sneeze.

Unlike most full-time authors, she's also battling severe chronic illness. C.J. works daily to put her Lupus into remission and continues to fight numerous bacterial infections while her immune system slowly attacks her body. She turned to writing when she could no longer work outside the home and claims the escape of penning contemporary fantasy, erotica, and erotic romance has helped save her sanity.

Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/author/cjellisson

Website: http://www.cjellisson.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/c.j.ellissonfanpage

Twitter handle: @CJEllisson

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CJEllisson

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3249026.C_J_Ellisson

Library Thing: http://www.librarything.com/profile/CJEllisson

Shelfari: http://www.shelfari.com/cj_ellisson

Scribd: http://www.scribd.com/CJ_Ellisson

Wattpad: http://www.wattpad.com/user/CJEllisson

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Interview and Giveaway with Melissa Delport

Do you have a specific writing style?

My writing is fast-paced and the story moves fairly quickly. I do not use a lot of filler and descriptive writing.

Do you write in different genres?

Yes, my books are primarily dystopian and SFF, but I do also write the occasional contemporary romance.

If yes which is your favorite genre to write?

It changes. Initially, dystopian fiction, but then I progressed to sci-fi romance and now I am writing fantasy.

How did you come up with the title for your latest book?

This title was difficult to work with, because the English spelling is ‘Traveller’, and the American is ‘Traveler’. I didn’t want to change the title, because the definition is important: ‘One who travels or has traveled, as to distant places.’ The word distant was the key, for me. I eventually opted to go with the American spelling because of the size of their Amazon store. Now, I have my South African friends pointing out what they perceive to be a typo.

Do you title the book first or wait until after it’s complete?

The Title always comes first. It comes to me the same moment the story does. It was the same with my kids – I named all 3 practically the moment I conceived! My books are also my babies – they need a name for me to truly connect with the story.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

My female lead characters are always strong and confident women, who are very capable. I’m pretty sure there is a message in there somewhere J

What is your current “work in progress” or upcoming projects?

I am currently under deadline to complete the final book in my Legacy Trilogy (www.thelegacytrilogy.com). Once that is complete, I will begin working on the Traveler sequel as well as a new fantasy series that has been brewing in my writer’s mind for some time now.

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

The Legacy Trilogy is a dystopian action adventure, set in post-nuclear America. In the aftermath of the World War 3, a New United States is created, and the wealth and resources that remain are controlled by one man. Rebecca Davis, the strong and feisty protagonist, learns the truth and sets off on a course to overthrow him. She becomes the ultimate weapon for the Resistance that is growing outside of the boundary fences. I self-published the first book in 2013, but my publisher is re-releasing The Legacy (book 1) and The Legion (book 2) in July 2014. The clock is ticking! I am really excited about this series – it is fast paced and has something for everyone.

Who designed the cover of your latest book?

After a disastrous attempt with a company that shall-not-be-named, I discovered Wendy at Apple Pie Graphics. She has designed all of my covers and will continue to do so. I always have an idea in my head, and she manages to produce exactly what I am wanting.

Do you have any advice for other writers?

Every writer must travel their own journey. It’s different for everyone. Sometimes, you get lucky and your first book is the success you hoped for. Other times, it takes longer. It took me two years to get a publishing contract. Writing is a marathon – you have to keep going. The only guarantee of failure is giving up.

The Traveller

The Traveller Series

Book 1

Melissa Delport

Genre: Sci-fi romance/action

ASIN: B00IVKXJ7M

Number of pages: approx 253

Word Count: 89500

Available on Amazon

Book Description:

Seven years ago, Rachel gave her heart to a dark, intense stranger, who left her broken and alone.

Every day since then Rachel has thought about Dex, her memories refusing to be silenced.

Now, Dex is back, but this time he is not alone. He has brought a formidable army – their sole purpose to conquer. Fate will bring Rachel and Dex back together, but on opposing sides of a war that threatens to obliterate her world.

Pitted against the power of the elements, Rachel and her friends must survive tsunamis, earthquakes, tornadoes and fire, all the while being hunted by a powerful enemy who will stop at nothing to pillage her planet.

Fleeing for her life amidst the chaos of a raging, burning city, Rachel realizes man’s only chance of survival lies in the hands of the very person who betrayed her all those years ago.

Earth is destined to fall, but Rachel is determined to save mankind, no matter the sacrifice.

About the Author:

Wife, mother of 3, businesswoman by day and author by night, Melissa Delport is the author of The Legacy Series and Rainfall. She graduated from the University of South Africa with a Bachelors Degree in English in 2000. She currently lives with her husband and three children in Hillcrest, South Africa.

Her first novel, The Legacy, published in 2013, is the first in The Legacy Series trilogy, and is followed by the sequel The Legion. The final book, The Legend is due out in 2014. She has also written an independent novel entitled Rainfall, a psychological romance, and a science-fiction, action-adventure called The Traveler.

An avid reader herself, Melissa finally decided to stop “watching from the sidelines” and to do what is her passion.

“I was driving home from work when inspiration struck, and a storyline started unravelling in my head. For a few days, it was all I could think about and eventually I realised that the only way to get it out of my head, was to put it all down on paper. I started writing, and that was that.”

Website: www.melissadelport.com

Twitter: @melissadelport

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/TheMelissaDelportBookClub

Blog: www.melissadelport.com

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/melissadelport/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/MelissaDelport

Publisher’s website www.traceymcdonaldpublishers.com

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Giveaway: State Of Infection by Michael J. Frey

State Of Infection

Michael J. Frey

Genre: Science Fiction/ Horror

Publisher: Black Rose Writing

Date of Publication: March 6, 2014

ISBN: 9781612963211

ASIN: B00J4WWY3Q

Number of pages:266

Word Count: 84K

Cover Artist: Tommy Dalston

Book Description:

Just months before the Battle of Central Park and the onset of the Second Civil War, President Obama declares martial law in New York, New Jersey and Connecticut as Montoya’s encephalopathy spreads.

Despite the military’s best efforts, the government falls and Manhattan is reborn as a city-state under a military dictatorship. Survivors Mike Calaf, and Avalon Calendar struggle to survive, caught between the zombies and the new ruler of New York.

But long before the zombie infection, during the First Civil War, Doctor William Jackson (of the Confederate States of America) is trying to unravel the mystery behind this strange new sickness. He knows that if Complex P fails to work, there could be devastating consequences which might influence the future of mankind.

Book Trailer: http://www.stateofinfection.com/pics---video.html

Purchase it at Amazon BN iTunes Goodreads

Excerpt:

1- DOCTOR MIKE CALAF

It’s been nearly a year since the outbreak. Most people call it the ZA infection, though it’s not really an infection. The proper medical term is Montoya’s encephalopathy (named after Claude Montoya, the French researcher who spearheaded the early studies).

I was in my office seeing patients when it began. Back then I had a medical practice on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, about a block away from my one bedroom apartment. I could get from my office to my home before you could say Jack Robinson. It was convenient as heck (and in the end, probably saved my life).

In those days my biggest concern was keeping the practice growing. Medicine is, among many things, a business, and like most businesses, mine had overhead. Lots of overhead. In my case overhead meant two receptionists and two nurses. I also had the malpractice insurance to cover, which seemed to go up almost every year. Next came the office supplies (both secretarial and medical). Then throw in the computers, maintenance, and a small reserve for holiday parties. Private practice in New York City was a costly beast to say the least.

Fortunately, I did pretty well and was able to celebrate my black Friday earlier and earlier each year. I wish I could attribute my good fortune to my skills as a doctor, but as Avalon might say, that dog won’t hunt. There were plenty of good docs in New York City before the ZA infection, so I had to find a way to stand out. The real secret to my success was keeping the waiting down to a bare minimum. I prided myself on it. Everyone hates waiting for the doctor, I get that, I hate it too. And no group of people does hurried and rushed like Manhattanites. So if Mrs. Kessler had an appointment at noon, she was seen by noon, or sooner. That, and a pair of the friendliest secretaries known to mankind, is what kept my people coming back.

Of course, it didn’t always work out that way. All it took was one complicated condition to throw off the schedule. For example, during what I thought was a routine physical exam, I felt an enlarged liver in a fifteen-year-old boy. That’s how a visit booked for twenty minutes became forty-five minutes. After explaining the findings to a terrified patient and his mother, I then had to order liver function tests, screening tests for hepatitis and a CT scan of the abdomen. It takes time, but it has to get done. You do what you can while keeping the bottom line in mind. And, if Mrs. Kessler wants to tell you about her son’s academic success at Brandeis University, or Mr. Barkman wants to show you pics of his new Shetland Sheepdog? Well, you smile and look at the pics, or at least that’s what I did. Good word of mouth followed, and my practice grew; satisfying both my needs as a physician, and as a businessman.

I wish I could say my office was filled with marble and gold leaf, and that I had one of those big fancy wooden desks. It wasn’t like that. But it wasn’t one of those tired, worn out old offices with dirty carpets and framed posters of Matisse and Van Gogh everywhere you turned. It was pretty standard I guess.

On my desk, I had two photographs. One was a recent pic of Kimberly and me in the North Fork of Long Island (the wine country). The other was of my sister and my parents, which was taken at a wedding, or bar mitzvah, or something; everyone dressed up and smiling in the type of picture that seemed dated the second it went into the frame; the type of picture destined for a desktop. Overall, I’d say it was a nice setup. Then the ZA infection came and everything changed. And if a little zombie apocalypse wasn’t bad enough, the Southern Federation showed up next to conduct what they called the Second Civil War. Talk about bad karma.

Manhattan is now what one might call a city-state, a tiny little country onto itself. And who gets to be king of New York? A man named Castor Dean does. Castor Dean is the class president...of a pretty big class. Not that he was elected by his classmates (or anyone else for that matter). His authority was given to him by what remained of the military after the government collapsed. His official political title is the Gallum Major; which means king or ruler. Personally, I would have chosen “El Hefe” if I ruled New York, but they never offered me the position. This is not to say that Castor Dean is a bad leader, it’s just that the vox populi never meant much to him. Most survivors welcomed Castor and his absolute rule. After all, because of him, the city still has electricity and clean water. That fact alone makes Castor worth his weight in gold.

Castor changed things up when he came into power. For starters, he renamed the city. Manhattan, he felt, had been erased by the ZA infection. The survivors of the zombie apocalypse needed a fresh start, a new beginning. So Manhattan was reborn as Gallum City, and Roosevelt Island (a small island adjacent to Manhattan) became its capital. Because of Roosevelt's small size, Castor’s army was able to clear out the zaps in a matter of days. This zombie-free sanctuary (just a few minutes boat ride from Manhattan) was the ideal location for the new ruling class. Roosevelt Island was divided into three sections. The southern section became a military town named New Sparta (where most the soldiers were barracked). The middle of the island was for government leaders and their families. The northern section was given to the surviving civilian population, the natives, who lived on Roosevelt before the infection. They were allowed to stay, provided they agreed to relocation.

About the Author:

Michael Frey is a physician and assistant professor in New York City. He lives in Westchester, New York with his wife Jessica, two children and two dogs.

www.stateofinfection.com

www.facebook.com/stateofinfection

https://twitter.com/Zom_Novel_Frey

http://stateofinfection.wordpress.com

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May 12 Spotlight

3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, Too! http://3partnersinshopping.blogspot.com

May 13 Spotlight

Books, Books The Magical Fruit

http://booksbooksthemagicalfruit.blogspot.com

May 14 Guest blog

Fang-tastic Books

www.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com

May 15 Guest blog

Cloey's Book Reviews and Other Stuff

cloeyk.blogspot.com

May 15 Spotlight

The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

www.creativelygreen.blogspot.com

May 16 Interview

Darkest Cravings

www.darkestcravings.blogspot.com

May 19 Spotlight

Deb Sanders

http://DebSanders.com

May 20 Character Interview

Author Karen Swart

http://authorkarenswart.blogspot.com/

May 20 Interview

CBY Book Club

http://cbybookclub.blogspot.co.uk/

May 21 Interview

Eclipse Reviews

http://totaleclipsereviews.blogspot.com/

May 21 Spotlight

Lisa’s World of Books

www.lisasworldofbooks.net

May 22 Guest blog

Roxanne’s Realm

www.roxannerhoads.com

May 22 Spotlight

Deal Sharing Aunt

http://dealsharingaunt.blogspot.com/

May 23 Guest blog

Mythical Books

http://www.mythicalbooks.blogspot.ro/

Mom 23 Spotlight

With A Kindle

http://momwithakindle.blogspot.com/

May 26 guest post

Books and Tales

http://booksandtales.blogspot.co.uk/

May 26 Interview

Pembroke Sinclair.

www.pembrokesinclair.blogspot.com

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

After the Silence – Bree Part 1 by Jacqueline Paige

After the Silence – Bree

Part 1

Jacqueline Paige

Genre: Paranormal Urban Fantasy / Survivalist

Tagline: One woman’s journey through the chaotic new world.

Those left standing make the paths for the future generations.

Book Description:

When the Mother Nature decides she’s had enough and begins to fight back, survival takes on a whole new meaning. If the earth is the enemy – there are no rules and all you can do is try to survive the odds.

Those the planet allowed to live still have to survive the trials of the virus. If you manage to come out of it alive you are left with some form of mutation that could give you an ability that could be harmless or lethal.

Bree Taylor is the last survivor of her family. With no other choice she sets off on her own to escape the clutches of the new government’s army—that does not place safety and security in their code of behavior only the highest bidder get their protection and loyalty.

Living in a world of unstable climate changes becomes a journey she won’t soon forget. She has to be prepared for anything at all times out in the new country and has to be wary of every person she meets. All while staying out of the path of the new army.

This is a 4 part serial story releasing from June - September.

Release Date for part 1 is June 18, part 2 releases July 18th

The entire volume will be released in January 2015 as one book.

http://www.firstrealmpublishing.com/

Excerpt 1:

I had strangers coming closer on one side of me and an animal voicing a warning behind me. Tremor shook his head and pranced a few times and the growling got louder. I sat there trying to gauge what was the most important and decided there was no way I was going to let something happen to my horse. Sliding up the tree as quietly as I could, while focusing on the voices, I tried to recall every skill instilled in me, drawing more blanks than anything useful.

Pulling the knife from the pocket, I prayed it was sharp enough to cut the rope I’d tied Tremor to. I guessed I had about fifteen seconds to cut it and get to the horse before whatever was growling took a bite off one of my legs or other body parts. Chewing my lip, I hoped I could still get on his back without the saddle. The plan was to ride like hell and come back later for my stuff—if we could find it again.

About the Author:

Jacqueline Paige lives in Ontario in a small town that’s part of the popular Georgian Triangle area. No one has ever heard of Stayner, so she usually tells people she lives “near Collingwood” and no, she doesn’t ski at Blue Mountain or at all, in fact she’s not even fond of snow.

She began her writing career in 2006 and since her first published works in 2009 she hasn’t stopped. Jacqueline describes her writing as “all things paranormal”, which she has proven is her niche with stories of witches, ghosts, physics and shifters now on the shelves.

When Jacqueline isn’t working at her ‘reality job’ or lost in her writing she spends time with her five children, most of whom are finally able to look after her instead of the other way around. Together they do random road trips, that usually end up with them lost, shopping trips where they push every button in the toy aisle, hiking when there’s enough time to escape and bizarre things like creating new daring recipes in the kitchen. She’s a grandmother to four (so far) and looks forward to corrupting many more in the years to come.

Jacqueline loves to hear from her readers, you can find her at www.jacqpaige.webs.com , www.jacqpaige.blogspot.ca or http://magicseasonsbooks.blogspot.ca

Guest Blog and Giveaway: Freakquency by Caddell Brown

There is much truth to this statement. All dreams will take time and all time will pass as it will or as it should. I stand on the precipice of embarking on a new journey–a journey in which I will share myself with others. I’m quite introverted. My personality has never been one in which I want the world to know my deepest darkest or my lightest brightest. Even during my brief tenure as a “fine artist” I held back, reserving my better talent for an audience of a few. My novel Freakquency is about to debut. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of the reception to come. This isn’t my first row at this publishing thing, no, I’ve been published before. This is, however, my first time publishing under this moniker of “Caddell Brown”. The namesake of my pseudonym places me one step closer to an audience of the reading public. It represents who I am beyond the exterior, within the interior and throughout and around my many selves that have written poetry, fan fiction, short stories, long stories, drabbles, bad writing, good writing, award-winning writing, etc. prior to this moment in time. A lot of work went into this manuscript. A lot of opinions were stated and a lot of suggestions (to change this or that) were made. But I am pleased overall with the end result. I hope you like the novel. And I hope it likes you, too. I expect I’ll venture back to this world I’ve created with Freakquency in the future.

Until next time,

Caddell Brown

Freakquency

Caddell Brown

Genre: Speculative, Supernatural, Horror, Erotica

Publisher: NomaBlack

Date of Publication: 02/14/2014

ASIN: B00I7JJN1I

Number of pages: 187

Word Count: 47000

Cover Artist: NomaBlack

Purchase at Amazon

Book Description:

What southern-grown, rock star Rick Chamberland doesn’t know about his family’s dark past comes to light when he returns home to Louisiana at the request of his mother. Rick has spent the last fifteen years of his life dedicated to music, touring the world, completely oblivious to the secrets coded in his legacy.

Meanwhile, Song Peters, a dutiful daughter taking care of a dying mother, dreams of the day she can break free of small town life and pursue her one true passion, singing. Rick meets Song and instantly sparks ignite.

They make beautiful music together and soon find that they share similar upbringings. Rick comes to learn that their families are supernaturally intertwined and that the one denominator (a demon by the name Nova) connected to both families threatens to destroy them all if they do not obey.

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/3GNhCI_vMyE

About the Author:

Caddell Brown, born and raised in East Texas, authors a range of speculative fiction. Among her early influences are artist Rene Magritte, film director Andrei Tarkovsky and author Dan Simmons.

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Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Spotlight and Giveaway: The Gentleman by Natasha Powell

The Gentleman

Natasha Powell

Genre: Horror, Paranormal (bromance), Fantasy

Date of Publication: April 14th 2014

ISBN: 0615990371

ISBN: 978-0615990378

ASIN:

Number of pages: 266

Word Count: 81,247

Cover Artist: Natasha Powell

Book Description:

James Greene would do anything to keep his soul. But his year on the run from the demon known as The Gentleman, has left him with two choices: kill himself, or pay the piper. While in a dumpy hotel in Florida, wrestling with the thoughts of suicide, a letter sent from a stranger gives James a third choice: get rid of him once and for all.

The letter leads him to his family’s plantation home in Athens, Georgia. There, he discovers not only his family's secrets, but also The Gentleman’s true intentions. The Gentleman offers James a deal he can’t resist, play the last game, and if he wins, he gets to keep his soul.

Available at Amazon and Smashwords

Excerpt: Chapter 1

Storm of the Century

It was 1981, and a year since James Greene’s deal with The Gentleman. Days ago, he’d fled from the terrors in South Carolina for the Florida Keys. He intended to reach the Keys before the sun rose, but the storm that put cannon-sized dents into his truck in the wee hours of the morning spoiled his plan. Worst of all, the feeling of someone watching and following him had heightened after he’d entered Florida.

When the droplets of rain became tiny atom bombs exploding on the windshield, he’d swerved around potholes and driven slower than the speed limit to avoid driving his 1959 pickup into a muddy quicksand. The condensation on the windshield formed faster than his wipers could clear it off. As the rain fell harder, gallons of it flooded the inside of his truck by way of the rolled down window on the passenger’s side.

“Damn it! I had only one hundred miles left.” He slammed his fist into the steering wheel. The impact left knuckle marks in the plastic and bent the frame. After taking a deep breath and a swig of rum, he looked on either side of the road for a place to hole-up until the storm died.

Only dreary trees lined the sides of the road. Then, finally, a sign for The Hotel Love Nest blinked on and off beside the road as he drove past. James mashed the brakes to the floor, turned his truck around, and drove back in the direction of the hotel. His bag splashed onto his floorboard, into the swimming pool that grew with each passing minute. As his tires screeched, they pushed slushy mud up and sprayed rocks in every direction.

He parked his truck, more crooked than usual, in front of a rundown hotel. It had all the makings of a bad-side-of-town look. As the rain increased its frenzy and cascaded harder from sky, he rolled the passenger window up to prevent more from pouring inside.

“Okay, one, two, three!”

On three, he opened his door and battered through the storm, until his boots landed in a large puddle outside the main office. He ignored it and continued toward the door. The rain confused his sense of perception, and he overshot the distance to the handle, causing him to open the door with his shoulder, shoving his way inside where he collapsed onto the floor.

Once the door shut, reducing the sounds of the raging thunderstorm, he stood and wiped the rain from his face. With clearer vision, he saw a man with stringy hair, coke-bottle glasses, and greasy clothes sitting dangerously close to a black and white TV behind the desk.

“Hey,” James said and waved his hand to the guy.

The man paid him no mind and watched a woman on the tube scream as a monster slashed her throat.

James moved his hand to his side with stealth and unsheathed his knife.

“No,” he whispered, squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and snapped closed the button to the knife’s casing. “Hey buddy, I need a fuckin’ room.” James smashed his hand on the bell that sat on the desk.

The man moved around to face him. “Ten dollars.” He turned back to the TV.

James ripped out his wallet and put the soggy bills on the counter.

After the man had removed the key from the wall, he slid it over to James. “Room four,” he said while gawking at the TV where a townsman was dragging the monster from its hole. He stuffed more donuts into his cavity-corroded mouth.

“Thanks,” James said and ran back to his truck for his soaked bag.

The rain pelted his skin; the gusts slapping his face and slowing him to a fast walk. Because of the hurricane force winds, the truck’s door weighed a thousand pounds, and he had to dig his feet into the mud to yank it open. After removing his bag and shotgun, he hustled to the sidewalk, but not before grabbing the two sets of dog tags that hung around the rearview mirror. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, the hotel roof finally provided relief from the storm.

He reached into his pocket for the key and accidently snagged a drenched flyer with a fisherman on the front along with it. The wind tossed the paper in the air, and he captured it before it disappeared into the downpour. He held it to the moonlight, scanning it before returning it to his soaked pants.

“Soon, I’ll be James, the fisherman. Just one night and that’s it.” He strolled to room number four and paused before entering. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

The wind swirled, pulling him back toward the rain. He forced his feet forward and focused on the lock. The sounds of the hotel building settling resembled the hair-raising screams from a serial killer’s basement. Something, he was sure of it, called his name.

“It’s not real.” He stabbed the key into the lock. A swift jerk and shake of the door caused the room number to fling free of the bent nails that held it up as the door swung open. Without looking back, he darted into the dark room and closing the door, leaned his back against the door as it closed out the howls of Hurricane Nightmare. Rain dripped off his wet body and streaked down the doorframe.

“Okay, I made it. It’ll take him a while to catch me now.” After standing up from the ground, he turned on the lights and marveled at the disaster of a room. The walls resembled the pocked surface of the dark side of the moon. The bathroom, covered in mildew and mold, had no door. Cracks similar to the ones in the Sahara desert appeared on the ceiling, and cancerous black spots filled the corner. The only positives were a bed, a desk and chair, and a TV.

“This is the worst of the worst. No wonder it was ten dollars.”

Not wasting a minute, he dropped his duffle bag on the floor and unzipped it. After pulling out a velvet pouch, he spread soot at the inside of the door. The smell of burnt leather drifted up to his nose, and a small haze rose from the material. He burned sage in the window seals and set fire to a hard material that he laid in the middle of the room. As the hard substance burned, a smell worse than the room lingered. But once it evaporated, the muggy smell of a dead man’s anus withered away.

Now to get out of these. He wiped away some of the water from his face as he reached down, unlaced his boots, removed his wet socks, peeled off his shirt and pants, and tossed them onto the ground. From his bag, he retrieved a dry pair of socks and pants and put them on.

After unsheathing his knife, he felt the groves and tic marks engraved along the handle and placed it on the table. There were thirty-four marks etched in the wooden handle.

When he’d finished, he rested his short-barreled shotgun against the table where he relaxed and pulled out his Florida State game-winning baseball from college. He tossed the ball into the air, launching it higher and higher. It hit the ceiling and pieces of plaster fell on his head.

“Fuck!”

Once he stood, he brushed the fragments from his matted hair and shoulders onto the stained carpet and stopped the baseball from rolling under the bed with his foot. The ball still had pieces of plaster on it, and he brushed them off then tossed it into his bag. His bag contained another treasure of his—rum. He removed a new bottle and uncapped it, sucking down the spicy juice through his dehydrated lips.

“Huh.” He wiped what spilled off his face and recapped the bottle.

Sitting at the table, he flattened the torn flyer and spread it across the broken and splintered top. While shutting his eyes, he pictured the sea, the way it smelled, and the way it felt against his skin. The whales collided with the boat, and he heaved and hoed with the dozen or so other men that worked along with him on the large vessel. The ropes burned his hands and blood mixed with the salty water. No one knew if they’d die by the whale’s hand or the storm. Nevertheless, that was all right by him. There was no one around hounding and harassing him, taking away his sleep and ability to think. No one threatening his life, family, or conscience. It was him and the sea. James and his thoughts.

“I can’t wait.” He smiled and interlaced his fingers behind his head.

A violent bang at the door erased the peaceful vision. James fell from his seat onto the floor, whacking his head along the way. When he rose, he dashed to the light switch and flicked it off.

The thing outside beat and hammered on the door. With his back pressed against the wall and breathing as little as possible, he shook each time the door thumped. Sweat raced down his chest and forehead. His nostrils flared as lilac seeped into the room, and he resisted the urge to gag.

“No,” he whispered.

The thing scratched and chattered on the other side of the door, and multiple voices talked simultaneously. It raged and laughed, and the windows vibrated; little cracks spread across the glass.

James squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to God, any God that happened to hear him. He prayed until his mouth was too dry to open. Then he prayed in his head.

The commotion ended, and the ominous presence left. He lifted his trembling hand to the newly cracked window, pushed the curtain away, and saw nothing. After turning on the lights, he sat at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

“Only one more day. I’ve had one hundred fucking miles, and now this.” He drove his fist into the wall beside the bed. The pain caused him to wave his hand.

“It’s one of the hallucinations. You haven’t slept in what, three days? It’s like the time in Macon.” He rubbed his head.

A letter swished into his room from under the door and floated beside him onto the tattered covers. James leapt from it. His eyes widened at the sight of the handwriting.

“It’s just paper,” he muttered. Mustering the courage, he seized the letter. It shook in his unsteady hands as he read the words.

I WANT MY SOUL, AND SINCE I’M SUCH A NICE GUY, I’LL GIVE YOU UNTIL DECEMBER 22 AT 1:30 AM. I KNOW WHERE YOU’RE AT. NO NEED TO RUN, IT’LL ONLY MAKE THINGS WORSE. OH, AND CLEAN UP.

FROM THE GENTLEMAN, WITH LOVE

James’ thoughts spun. He looked around the room for something, anything, to help him stand upright, but instead landed on the bed. The words raced through his mind, smashing the good memories aside.

“I can’t leave?” He tugged at his hair and wiped the sweat from his face. What he’d spent the last several months planning was all for nothing. A deep emptiness filled his soul. Not even the burning of the rum could fill it. He curled into a ball and wept himself to sleep.

About the Author :

Natasha Powell is an avid gamer, anime and manga junky, comic artist, sci/fi nut, in other words, a well-rounded nerd. When she isn’t busy fighting pirates for booty on the high seas, Natasha resides in her home in Tampa, Florida, where she continues to write horror, thriller, and sci/fi novels and short stories.

Blog: www.napowblog.wordpress.com

Twitter: @na_pow

FB page: www.facebook.com/napinc

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/napow

Website: www.natasha-powell.wix.com/author

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