Sunday snippet Island of the Zombie King… #snippet #zombie #bookboost

12037616_10208208575795962_642220036_oThey were leaving the store when they heard screams from the area where the soldiers where. “What’s.—” Joseph didn’t finish as gunshots echoed through the mall, and people came running past them.

Kiley grabbed a man’s arm. He looked at her, frightened. “Let go of me,” he said, his voice full of panic.

“What’s happening?”

“We are all fucking dead!” he started shouting. “They’re in.”

She let him go. Her eyes darted around. “Come on, guys,” she said, running over to the burger joint. She jumped the counter, landing hard on her feet. The guys followed her. Tony and Carlos, both the shortest of the group, took longer. They huddled at the back of the restaurant in the dark.

“What’s the plan?” Donner asked.

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Sunday snippet The Unicorn and The Serpent #snippet #fightlikeagirl

unicornandserpfinal“Your territory is rather small, very bountiful, though. I see your people working very hard. It is always good to see good work being done,” King Henry said.

“I do see some women out there as well. So you make all of them work? That sits very well with me. Able hands are best used where they are needed most,” Duke Claude said.

“I do not make any person work. They work so we have food for this winter,” Cormack said.

“Do you pay them?” Claude asked.

“We do not really worry about money,” he said.

“Very interesting,” Henry said.

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Sunday Snippet Island of the Zombie King #snippet #zombies

12037616_10208208575795962_642220036_oDonner sat beside her in the dark theater as the movie played before them. Neither was paying much attention to the movie. He leaned into her, making a smartass comment about the death taking place on the screen. Kiley knew Donner had a girlfriend, and she knew better to not fully flirt back with him. Kiley didn’t want to be one of those girls. But sometimes it was hard, especially now as he flirted hard with her.

A scary scene made them all jump, and then the gore started. Without realizing it, she grabbed his arm. He felt her warm hand close over his arm, and for a moment he had butterflies in his stomach. He had no way other than that to describe it. It couldn’t be love; he already had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who wanted nothing to do with him at times. He was frustrated, but around Kiley he felt different.

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Snippet Sunday: Seeing Stars #snippet #romance

seeingstarAlisa clutched her laptop bag as she walked toward the secretary. From the moment she walked into the building she felt underdressed with a heavy stone sat in her belly. The bleached blonde woman looked at her with muddy brown eyes. “May I help you?”

“I have an appointment with Ron Suffington.”

“Name please?”

“Alisa Parson.”

“Oh yes. Your name is on the list. Please have a seat, and he will be right with you.”

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Stone Guardians snippet… #sundaysnippet #vampire

12197562_10208440220106925_1594265615_oBefore she could finish Trea had pulled her ankle dagger and slit the girl’s throat. She dragged her off into the woods. Vilem not sure what to do followed after them.

In the woods he came upon her feasting on the girls wound. He had never been around human blood. His father had told him the only way to follow the path of the Goddess was to drink from animals they hunted. The smell hit him. It was the sweetest thing he had ever smelt. He walked closer.

Trea made wet slurping sounds, the girl now dead. Vilem could see that her spirit had left the open eyes. Those dead eyes stared up at him almost accusing him. A small voice in his head told him to turn away. Just go home. To leave Trea to her bloodlust. He could live without her. He shook his head. He loved her. He wanted to be with her forever.

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Snippet of Seeing Stars #beachkiss #romance

seeingstar“I don’t want to go back to the hotel just yet,” Alisa said in the car.

“Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t care. I just need some fresh air.”

“Okay,” he smiled then drove to his spot at the beach. “Fresh air, and plenty of it.”

“This works.”

He helped her down the path. Her shoes were not made for walking on such difficult terrain.

Once they hit the dirt she took them off and dug her feet into the beach sand, still warm even though the sun had gone down hours ago. She was glad she had skipped wearing stockings. She watched as Logan removed his shoes and black dress socks. He rolled his slacks up like a pro.

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Sunday Snippet Stone Guardians #snippet #vampire #bookboost

wp-1451361681858.jpg“You mean us,” she said. “Would they kill me?  Times have changed; you can’t just burn someone.”

He rolled his head to look at her. She reached out to touch his hair. Their bond made them closer than lovers or even family.  Touching was a form of comfort and very natural to them. They had to be careful and only do it in closed quarters. Touching in public would bring up questions and speculations.

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It’s done! Introducing the First Chapter of Stone Guardians: Obsidian

I am over being super sick, and now that Christmas is out of the way. I really hope everyone had a great Christmas. I have Stone Guardians: Obsidian finally finished and done. It should be available on Tuesday. But here is the first chapter for those who are interested! Enjoy.
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Island of the Zombie King Chapter 1!

A World of Decay. . .


Hungry and in need of fresh water, a young man is driven from the safety of his apartment. He snuck out, the sun making him shade his eyes briefly. He hadn’t been outside in over three weeks. The sun felt nice on his skin. He hadn’t seen one of the undead in over four days. He hoped they were all gone as he walked. The air was heavy with old trash and other stenches that mingled with the salty air. Today he was finally going to get out of the virus-infested city. He had walked along all day, lost in thought, then there it was; he came to the bridge, red and shiny.  Behind him, he heard the moans. Had he heard them earlier?

He turned. His cotton candy pink hair flapped in the coastal wind, and his nose filled with the  stench of the dead.  There they were. All of his optimism bottomed out. A large group of men, women, and children slunk after him. Their skin was no longer living, instead, torn, ripped in colors of off-blue and varying shades of green. The bites or wounds that had caused them to become a member of the dead clearly showed beneath the clear sky. He did the only thing he could think of. He started to run. He ran to the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge, stopping suddenly.

In front of him was another horde of the undead. He was trapped. There would be no way to fight his way out of this mess. He was dead no matter what. He went to the edge of the bridge and looked over at the rough waves below. He had two choices for how he would die … he climbed over the edge. The moans of the undead got louder as they got closer. He closed his eyes and said a small prayer of forgiveness. His hands let go of the railing, and he fell, his eyes still closed tight.

There was no life flashing before his eyes or a bright light at the end of the tunnel. Blackness. The rough saltwater waves ate at him, tossing and turning his body. Once the body was face up, his eyes stared at the sky now clouding over as the coastal fog rolled in.  Something darkened in them, a small spark.  His mouth opened, filling with saltwater. All memories of who he was were gone.  He was now one of them, craving flesh.  The water sucked him under. He could no longer swim, and as his body moved slowly toward the shore, the ocean current pulled it back out.


A woman screamed. The high pitched shriek filled the empty city, echoing off the abandoned buildings. New York, once filled with people and noise, lay in ruin and smelled of death. The undead walked the streets, moving toward the scream. She thought her plan could work, but it hadn’t. There were just too many of them. Her screams died off as the zombies pulled away pieces of her to feed their insatiable need. Blood covered the streets and windows of the empty storefronts, and moans filled the air as the sun started to set.


The world was now silent. The dead bodies of millions lay strewn across the globe. The undead waited for signs of life and movement. They waited to feed. They walked around in the north as the winter clouds threatened snow.  They continued to walk around in the south where the government had dropped a bomb, hoping to stop them.  The dead owned the world. No more fighting based on religion or race. Beautiful wonders left with no one to appreciate them. An entire race, the human race, was extinct. The world had been left to the undead to crumble and rot just like them.

Snippet Sunday Flights of Delusion

flightslargecoverThe Job

May you walk through the raining pools of blood and dance on the guts of your victims.

The words floated to the top of her head. She had been given a job, a good job, a job she knew she could really do. A job she had been dreaming of since she could remember. Remember since when? Lucifer had explained her duties, and she planned on doing her very best. To show not only Lucifer, but his other head-honchos, that he had chosen well.

Raining pools of blood.

She shivered as his words caressed her spine, building the anticipation.  She smiled as she thought of all the possibilities. She had opted to stay here in Hell. Oh, she could have done this on the top-side, but her life there had been full of dull, painful memories and feelings. All so close to the surface, but yet her mind could not grasp them. Her hand ran over the small scar on her forehead.

She entered the room and looked at all the frightened souls; her toys, her victims, her vices. She would do as she pleased with them. They were there to be tortured, to fulfill their heavy, dirty souls. Would the doctors who had touched her come soon? Would the guards who had held her down come too? She remembered some of them, but where had she been? Would Lucifer let her have them? She would have to ask.

Her tight black corset made her already snow white skin glow under the florescent lights. Her thick, long hair fell around her shoulders in a black cloak. She saw that her appearance made the souls quiver in fear. She could almost taste the heavy copper on her tongue, anticipating what would soon happen.

But what scared them was her eyes. Oh sure, she had a cute little nose and perfect, pink, pouty lips. It was the eyes. The doctors had talked about them; the eyes of a psychopath.

Her eyes seemed to scare everyone around her, including some of her new colleagues. They hid it, but she could sense their nervousness. Like her parents, until they had just stopped visiting her. The nurses felt it too, although they pitied her. What had she done to deserve what had happened to her? The thought made her stop briefly, head tilted, as she tried to remember something, a fleeting memory. Shaking her head, she thought of Lucifer; he did not fear her dark brown orbs when she looked at him with child-like curiosity.

There she had stood in front of the very man her parents had said would meet her with pain and torture.  But he had accepted her with a hug and a job. There was no fright, nervousness, or pity in him. He knew what she wanted deep down, and the job had fit.

She walked along the wall holding her instruments. Her toys. They looked sharp, deadly, and damn fun. Her hand ran lightly over knives of all different shapes and sizes. Her favorites were the serrated blades. Their victims felt the bite. Again, that memory that was so close came back like a small nagging pain. She tried to grab at it, but it escaped through her hands like liquid, like blood.

She grabbed the cat o’ nine tails. Nine strong cords with her own twist at the ends. Small razor blades were added to the tips. Why torture them with whipping? She wanted to pass the foreplay and get straight to the blood.

She turned to her scared victims, her wrist already snapping the cat o’ nines, hitting their marks. The souls cried out and screamed for mercy.  The blood flowed from the many small cuts. She moved and circled, humming a favorite childhood song, as her wrist snapped over and over. And the screams spiraled louder, echoing on themselves. They could not pass out, so they would stay awake for everything she threw at them.

She went to pick another torture device from the wall. Something bigger, something that would get the blood flying. Homemade devices she had no name for, but they worked. She turned to the red eyed, snotty, sniffling souls. Fear and pleading in their eyes. Her body heated with something close to lust. She released her new toy on them. The blood flew, coating her like new, velvety, wet skin. She licked her lips, rolling the thick copper taste on her tongue.

She sang and twisted. The blood ran, splattering the walls and coating the ground. But still the souls screamed; there was no escape for them. No unconsciousness for them.   Her blood raged with glee, and that nagging thought finally came close enough to grasp. She stopped as the memories flooded her.

Her first kill. The feeling of life leaving the small animal, its lifeless eyes staring at  at her.  How it had made her feel. And then the evil, older boy who had tried to make her take off her dress, and when that didn’t work, he tried to rip it off of her body. How it had felt to shove the garden shears into his stomach. How his small whimpers of pain thrilled her as she straddled his body and used the blades to make the cut big enough to place her hands inside. How she had explored the inside of his warm body, the bloody tissue and organs slippery to the touch. She had discovered a worm-like thing and started to pull out the thick cord.  Later she would discover it had been his intestines.

They had locked her up. She had been punished, she had been beaten, she had been shocked, and finally, she had been lobotomized. She had lived a horrible life of nothingness, stuck inside her head, while the world went on around her. She was nothing but a drooling, feeble body.  She lost her will to live, and when her life light went out, she was glad for the darkness. Suddenly she awoke, and she had found herself now able to function, sitting in the reception room in Hell. The secretary, bitch she was, actually offered her a magazine to read. The man next to her, shocked, said the cold-hearted bitch offered him nothing, just an evil look.

That little memory had done nothing for her and nothing to change her feelings about the task at hand. Instead, it fueled a spark of love for the job and anticipation because her religious-go-happy parents would soon be there to enjoy the pain she would inflict.  She would torture them until they confessed to their own evil. She would torture all who had done wrong to her. Maybe Lucifer could find the boy who had tried to rip her dress off. Maybe she could gut him again. Oh, yes, she would dance on the guts of her victims.

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