#CoffinHop2014: The Books!

The Books!

Yes it’s time for you to finally learn the actual titles of the books you could win by entering!

Glimpses of the Undead by Julianne Snow

Glimpses_FrontCoverFrom the mind of Julianne Snow comes an undead collection of stories that feature the gamut of emotions and situations. Presented in flash fiction and short stories, the tales are sure to leave you wanting more and checking over your shoulder.

How would a group of children handle an uprising of the undead? What would you do to save a loved one only to find out that you’re facing a different threat altogether? How would a country react to a timely warning at the end of a war? What happens when a vampiric Romeo hits on an unsuspecting human? In a world where the undead are common place and protected, what happens when speed dating produces a love match?

Wicked Tales for Wicked People by Brent Abell

WTWP_FrontCover_FinalThe moon hangs full and bright in the night sky above. Below, the people scurry in their own worlds ignoring the shadows around them. Something lurks in those shadows, a wickedness hiding in each person’s heart. What are their stories? How deep does the wickedness go in those walking around in the day and the night? Collected here are 18 wicked tales that examine how wicked people truly are and how when confronted by our darkest fears, we find our greatest hope.

This volume brings Brent Abell’s dark fiction together for the first time into one tome. What will you find when you look into your heart? Beware and lock your doors, the wicked ones are coming for you…

Ashes by Linda LaForge

Ashes-cover-1200Emily Baker wakes in the hospital after miraculously surviving a bizarre car accident to discover she’s lost everything, including the love of her life. She meets Dr. Norrell, an odd scientist with personal hygiene issues and severe social impairment, who shows a strange interest in her. While facing the stresses of recuperation and financial burden, she discovers she’s pregnant and the sinister being is growing way too quickly. The only thing she is certain of – the doctor is connected. His story calls into question her spiritual and religious beliefs while her strangely vivid dreams all warn her of the dangerous and untouchable Dr. Norrell.

Seeing Ghosts by James Garcia Jr.

Seeing Ghosts, FINAL, RGB, Front Cover, 6 x 9Paul Herrera finds himself bequeathed a mysterious old house near the California central coast by a deceased aunt he never knew. The woman who shows it to him is the spitting image of his wife, taken from him three years before in a senseless car accident which also took his unborn son. While he deals with the ghosts of a past he cannot let go, there are new ghosts Paul must deal with – alone for the week in the expansive two-story house that he will soon discover holds many secrets. Eventually, he will see that he is surrounded by ghosts as he struggles to hold onto the only thing that he has left in this world – his sanity.

Killers and Demons II: They Return by A.F. Stewart

K&DII MedEvil is back, with a greater appetite for death.



They lurk forever in the shadows, smile at you in the morning, and haunt your dreams at night. You can’t hide, you can’t run, and there’s no escape. You can only scream when they come for you.

Killers and Demons II: They Return is a collection of thirteen tales, blending short stories and flash fiction, tales where the blood lingers on your tongue or spurts quickly from the swift cut.

The Villainous Roster:

Wade, every parent’s nightmare

Hannah and Mr. Greeley. Who is the victim and who is the villain?

Simon and Zoe, a married couple who are dying to be single again.

Norman and his “cookie” of a wife, Mabel.

Millicent and Jane, a delightful duo you shouldn’t invite to your Regency tea party

Amanda, who literally has a skeleton in her closet

Balthazar, the demon bounty hunter on the hunt once more.

Sarah, a young woman going through some changes and craving new tastes

Emmeline, burned as a witch, now back from the dead for revenge

Gabrielle, a woman haunted by shadows

The Dollmaker, she showers death, and an umbrella won’t help

Nightmare Demons, bent on driving a town insane

And then there’s Alice, a little girl locked in the basement by her Daddy…

Together they form a spine-chilling cadre of predators.

Hunter’s Trap by Anne Michaud

Hunter's trap-FINAL FRONT“Ghosts don’t believe in you, either.”

Seventeen-year-old Dayton Mulligan is stuck looking after his little brother Jeremy when their father goes off on his annual hunting trip. But when Dad’s last phone call ends in a shotgun blast, it’s enough to send both boys out into a blizzard to search for him.

Caught in the killer weather, Dayton and Jeremy take refuge in an abandoned hunting cabin, which isn’t as empty as it first seems. A ghost inhabits its walls and promises to reveal the truth behind their father’s disappearance, but the brothers doubt their host’s sincerity as the spirit demonstrates its hatred for anyone who trespasses on its land.

Far from the safety of civilization, Dayton must swallow his fears, fight for himself and for his family before it’s too late and Hunter’s Trap claims them all, forever.

Purgatory Behind These Eyes by Doug Rinaldi

Front Cover 55x85 - Proof EditInspired by the perversity of human nature and the darkness that dwells within us all, this collection of work by horror author Doug Rinaldi is a reminder that not everything is as it seems. Purgatory Behind These Eyes’ imaginative diversity will pull you tightly into the depths of hopelessness while challenging your vision of reality, making the improbable and impossible become truth.



Parasite: Shadows of the Past – Book 2 by Richard Shiver

parasitecvr7fLife is persistent.

It can survive in the most hostile of environments, emerging in the most unlikely places, upsetting that delicate balance between predator and prey. Yet there is only room for one at the top of the food chain.

Mankind stands upon the brink of disaster as an ancient life form emerges from the shadows of the past. Sam Hardin is familiar with this threat, for what should have died in the fire at his cabin didn’t, and after losing his wife and daughter to its vengeance; he shoulders the role of executioner as he sets out to eradicate this menace once and for all.

Shadows Over Main Street edited by Alexander Ward (and Doug Murano)

The book’s technically not available yet, but it will be soon! Check out details here—www.mainstreetshadows.com/!!

Don’t forget to catch up with the other Coffin Hoppers at CoffinHop.com!


Now let’s talk about this giveaway!

There are 9 authors featured during the Coffin Hop and they’ve agreed to provide digital copies of their works to random winners as determined by Rafflecopter!

So what could you win?

  • 9 winners will receive 1 of the titles featured in a digital format by random draw (each winner will receive a different title – some authors may throw in other titles as well if they’re feeling generous!) NOTE: Authors are responsible for sending out the prizes and will be given your email address.
  • 1 winner will receive a Print version of Glimpses of the Undead by Julianne Snow


#CoffinHop2014: The 10 Word Challenge…

So this next challenge was a little more difficult. I only gave each of the authors 10 words to tell you about the title they’re featuring… Tomorrow, I’m actually going to introduce them to you in a little more detail!

Julianne Snow

Undead tidbits purely for your enjoyment!

Brent Abell

It’s a nice collection to chill your bones this Halloween.

Linda LaForge

Ashes is a dystopian novella about faith and love.

James Garcia Jr.

Paul is haunted by ghosts from the present and past.

Alexander Ward

Co-edited Lovecraftian anthology with Doug Murano. Small-towns vs. cosmic horror.

A. F. Stewart

Evil is back, in a collection of thirteen chilling tales.

Anne Michaud

Two brothers trust a ghost to find their missing father.

Doug Rinaldi

A bunch of kooky stories that freak out my mom.

Richard Shiver

An extinction event unfolds as the past threatens the present.

Don’t forget to catch up with the other Coffin Hoppers at CoffinHop.com!


Now let’s talk about this giveaway!

There are 9 authors featured during the Coffin Hop and they’ve agreed to provide digital copies of their works to random winners as determined by Rafflecopter!

So what could you win?

  • 9 winners will receive 1 of the titles featured in a digital format by random draw (each winner will receive a different title – some authors may throw in other titles as well if they’re feeling generous!) NOTE: Authors are responsible for sending out the prizes and will be given your email address.
  • 1 winner will receive a Print version of Glimpses of the Undead by Julianne Snow


#CoffinHop2014: Introductions…

Welcome to the Coffin Hop on The FlipSide! Over the next 8 days, I’ll be featuring the same 8 authors, plus myself as I ask one question per day. It’s something a little different, but I like being able to showcase how different we all really are. The first question was a challenge – literally. I asked the 8 of them to introduce themselves in 25 words or less. And I added a caveat to that – if they went over 25 words, I would cut them off (it’s the Coffin Hop after all…). You’ll just have to read to see if anyone couldn’t meet the challenge! Oh and there’s a great giveaway to be sure to read to the end!

Julianne Snow

Julianne SnowAuthor. Editor. Lover of Horror and Zombies. Publicist and Co-Founder of Sirens Call Publications. Founder of Zombieholics Anonymous.


Julianne Snow

Days with the Undead

Brent Abell

IMG_4057I live in Southern Indiana with my wife, sons, and pug who really writes the books.  I’m also partial to rum, cigars, and horror films.



Our Darkest Fears: The Fiction of Brent Abell

Linda LaForge

LindaI am creative. I draw, paint and write. I don’t know when I haven’t been creating something and I don’t know how not to.



Linda LaForge

James Garcia Jr.

DSC_0047I’m a husband and father of two that discovered horror novels in his teens, and has been writing his own dark stories ever since.


James Garcia Jr Fan Page


Alexander Ward

DAlexWardI read and write dark fiction, particularly horror. Like many, I just enjoy great stories. But the darker, the better, for me personally.

Alexander Ward



A.F. Stewart

GooglePhotoI’m a Canadian from Nova Scotia, I’m a writer of speculative fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, horror) and a proud sci-fi/fantasy geek.


A. F. Stewart


Anne Michaud

HS-anne.michaudAnne lives in Canada with monsters playing in her head and ghosts dancing in her dungeon. Oh, and books all over the place.


Anne Michaud


Doug Rinaldi

DougRinaldiI live to write.  Love horror and music.  I can’t dance but can make a mean egg-sandwich.  Cats, cats, and more cats.  Holla!

Doug Rinaldi

Deviated Truths, The Dark Fiction of Doug Rinaldi


Richard Shiver

M3367S-4504My whole life I’ve been a reader, but it wasn’t until later in life that I allowed that writer within to escape.


Richard Schiver


Don’t forget to catch up with the other Coffin Hoppers at CoffinHop.com!


Now let’s talk about this giveaway!

There are 9 authors featured during the Coffin Hop and they’ve agreed to provide digital copies of their works to random winners as determined by Rafflecopter!

So what could you win?

  • 9 winners will receive 1 of the titles featured in a digital format by random draw (each winner will receive a different title – some authors may throw in other titles as well if they’re feeling generous!) NOTE: Authors are responsible for sending out the prizes and will be given your email address.
  • 1 winner will receive a Print version of Glimpses of the Undead by Julianne Snow



#COFFINHOP2014: Just Around the Corner…

As Coffin Hop 2014 approaches, I’m madly dashing around trying to get ready for it! This year, I’ll be featuring interviews with 8 authors (plus myself), but I’ll be presenting them in a little bit of a different way…

Oh and there’s a fantastic giveaway too!

There are 9 authors featured during the Coffin Hop and they’ve agreed to provide digital copies of their works to random winners as determined by Rafflecopter!

So what could you win?

  • 9 winners will receive 1 of the titles featured in a digital format by random draw (each winner will receive a different title – some authors may throw in other titles as well if they’re feeling generous!) NOTE: Authors are responsible for sending out the prizes and will be given your email address.
  • 1 winner will receive a Print version of Glimpses of the Undead by Julianne Snow

Don’t forget that you can check out all the other Hoppers starting October 24th to the 31st by going to CoffinHop.com!

A Monday for Anything: Killers and Demons II: They Return Blog Tour with A. F. Stewart

Today on the FlipSide, I’m hosting A. F. Stewart as she tours the internet in support of her new collection, Killers and Demons II: They Return. She’s written a very engaging guest post, but before we get to that, let’s get to know A. F. a little better…

AnitaA. F. Stewart was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, and still calls it home. The youngest in a family of seven children, she has always had an overly creative mind and an active imagination. She is fond of good books (especially science fiction/fantasy), action movies, sword collecting, and oil painting as a hobby.

Ms. Stewart is an indie author with several published novellas and story collections in the dark fantasy or horror genres, with a few side trips into poetry and non-fiction. She has a great interest in history and mythology, often working those themes into her books and stories.

Twitter | Facebook | Blog

And without further ado…

Historic Settings for Horror

I love history, and I often use different historic eras as settings for my books or stories. So what do I see in the past that makes it such an effective medium for horror?

First, it’s fairly easy to establish a sense of drama and tension in certain historical settings. London in the Victorian Era for example, invokes an iconic image of gas lamps, fog shrouded streets and Jack the Ripper type terrors lurking in the alleyways, while medieval settings lend themselves well to a more supernatural dread, demons, witches and the like. History brings with it a built-in atmosphere and mood, which can be adapted nicely to fit into the horror genre.

The trappings of an era can establish a tone for the story, too. A reader expects a certain kind of behaviour from a top-hatted, finely dressed Victorian villain, actions far different from a rampaging, scantily clad, sword-welding barbarian, or an evil-minded alchemist in a black hooded robe. Clothes, especially period specific clothes, often make the character.

In my new book, Killers and Demons II: They Return, several of the stories have historic settings, and use the built-in ambience and characteristics to full advantage. I traipse to my favourite era for horror—the aforementioned Victorian era—in two of the stories, One Night in London, and Runner. The pair is a contrast in subject matter, with One Night in London having a straightforward historical background, and Runner bringing in a supernatural element, but both use the dark and surreal London streets and a less than savoury Victorian underworld to create a quality of menace in the story. However, my story How Do You Take Your Tea? does a bit of the opposite. It uses a Regency England setting as a contradiction to the villainy of its characters and plot. I mean, what could be more frightening and disquieting than evil in the world of Jane Austen? Be careful sipping your afternoon tea, poison may be lurking in that cup.

My last two historical stories, Suffer a Witch, and Up From The Ground, play with medieval locales and superstition. Suffer a Witch combines the unjust accusations of witchcraft with a bit of undead resurrection and revenge, leaning heavily on history to form its basis. Up From The Ground does much the same thing, using religion and a slice of medieval life as backdrop for a chilling paranormal horror story of possession. There is something decidedly perfect in the pairing of a medieval setting and a demonic invasion.

So that’s my take on history and horror. An ideal match made in heaven…or maybe in Hell.

Thank you A. F.! Now let’s take a look at Killers and Demons II: They Return… Don’t forget to click on the cover to be taken straight to Amazon!

K&DII MedEvil is back, with a greater appetite for death.



They lurk forever in the shadows, smile at you in the morning, and haunt your dreams at night. You can’t hide, you can’t run, and there’s no escape. You can only scream when they come for you.

Killers and Demons II:  They Return is a collection of thirteen tales, blending short stories and flash fiction, tales where the blood lingers on your tongue or spurts quickly from the swift cut.

The Villainous Roster:

Wade, every parent’s nightmare
Hannah and Mr. Greeley. Who is the victim and who is the villain?
Simon and Zoe, a married couple who are dying to be single again.
Norman and his “cookie” of a wife, Mabel.
Millicent and Jane, a delightful duo you shouldn’t invite to your Regency tea party
Amanda, who literally has a skeleton in her closet
Balthazar, the demon bounty hunter on the hunt once more.
Sarah, a young woman going through some changes and craving new tastes
Emmeline, burned as a witch, now back from the dead for revenge
Gabrielle, a woman haunted by shadows
The Dollmaker, she showers death, and an umbrella won’t help
Nightmare Demons, bent on driving a town insane
And then there’s Alice, a little girl locked in the basement by her Daddy…

Together they form a spine-chilling cadre of predators.

Did I mention there was a giveaway??


Click on theRafflecopter logo to be swept away to enter!

An Aberrant Mind Blog Tour: Guest Post from Ken MacGregor


Ken MacGregor has been traversing the internet talking about his quirky horror collection titled An Aberrant Mind. Today Ken talks about stuff up—writing to many of us—so without further ado, here he is…

Step Right Up, Folks!

Ken MacGregor

I’ve heard – well, mostly read a lot of people say that writing is a lot of work. That it’s excruciating and a horrible way to earn a living. That it’s agony to put words to the page.

I don’t think so. Well, okay, maybe it is for them, but not me. I enjoy writing. I love the process—from when the idea rattles around in my head to the first tentative words all the way through the editing.

All right, sometimes the editing is a pain in the ass, but the end result makes it pretty cool.

I love making stuff up. It’s fun.

Now, there’s this whole other part of being a writer that I didn’t really think about when I started. If I’d had the foresight to see it coming, I might have just kept writing for me and not submitting to publishers. I’m talking about the part where I have to try to sell my work.

Obviously, I don’t mind being paid to write. What kind of lunatic would complain about getting money for doing something they love, something they’d be doing anyway? But, no – that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about that thing where I try to get people interested in reading my stuff. The ‘Hey! Look at me!’ of self-promotion. This is how it feels to me:

I’m standing on the midway, clad in red, white and blue stripes with matching top hat, barking at the mothers, fathers and children whose mouths are caked with spider webs of cotton candy residue.

“Step right up, folks! See the amazing MacGregor pull ideas from thin air. Watch as he creates real human beings – and kills them!”

Or if you prefer a more urban analogy, I feel like a pimp (still with a big hat) sending my girls (and boys – this is the 21st Century after all) out to do filthy things with strangers while I sit back and collect the money. Sometimes the stories don’t sell and I have to slap ‘em around a little.

I don’t like this aspect of being a writer very much. It feels dirty to me, cheap and tawdry. I think this is probably the whole reason writers seek agents. So they don’t have to sully their hands with self-promotion. Any agents reading this might like to know that I’m not currently represented. Just sayin’.

You know what do I love, though, aside from the writing itself? Connecting with a reader. That moment when you log on to social media and someone you’ve never met has left you a note saying how much they enjoyed a story you wrote. That’s the best feeling. Knowing I made an impact in someone’s life, the way so many authors have in my own, is astounding to me.

So, if I can experience that, every once in a while, it’s worth having to hawk/pimp my stuff. More than worth it.

Thanks Ken! Now let’s take a look at An Aberrant Mind, tell you about the giveaway, and let you read an excerpt…

KenMacGregor_AnAberrantMind_FrontCoverABERRANT is defined as unusual, abnormal or different. The stories in this book not only differ from most of what you read, but also wildly from each other. A retired school teacher takes on an elder god and his minion; a werewolf picks fights with sea creatures; a neighbor’s lawn may be eating people. Twenty-two stories: scary, funny, weird and different.

In these pages, you will find darkness and fear, revulsion and terror. Mixed with it, however is quite a bit of humor. Sometimes both happen at the same time. So, open it up, join Jim as he fights off zombies with a potato cannon; witness the bloodbath reunion of the first man and his homicidal son; enjoy the monsters, the demons and the deranged.

A word of warning, though: you may never eat a bagel with lox again.

Available for purchase at:


US | UK | Canada | Australia | Germany | France | Spain | Italy | Japan | Mexico | India | Brazil




KenMacGregorABOUT THE AUTHOR Ken MacGregor’s work has appeared in over fifty anthologies, magazines and podcasts. Ken is a member of The Great Lakes Association of Horror Writers and an Affiliate member of HWA. You can find Ken on Amazon, Goodreads, Facebook, and at ken-macgregor.com. Ken’s the kind of guy that, if he found himself stranded somewhere with you, would probably eat you to survive. Ken hopes you enjoyed the stories in this collection and that you sleep just a little less well because of them. Ken lives in Michigan with his family and two unstable cats.

Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads



Sirens Call Publications will be giving away digital copies of An Aberrant Mind by Ken MacGregor to 5 (five) lucky winners! Follow the link to enter for your chance to win!

Win 1 of 5 (five) copies of An Aberrant Mind by Ken MacGregor


An here’s the excerpt we promised you…

Killer Bagel

Carl woke up hungry. He rolled out of bed and into the shower, stale smoke and beer sweat sluicing off him and down the drain. As he dried off, the church in the next block rang the bell, as it did every hour. He counted them. Ten. He felt each one like a blow to the head.

“I am never drinking again,” Carl mumbled. It was his mantra.

Carl lurched out the front door; the sunshine lancing into his brain as he hustled to put on the sunglasses. Avoiding human contact, he made his way to Max’s Deli. His stomach craved bread, and his brain coffee. Thank god ten am was a slow time for Max. Early mornings and around lunchtime, it got very loud in there. Max himself was at the counter. He looked up and beamed.

“Mr. Carl!” Max always used “Mr.” or “Ms.” with his customers’ first names. It was oddly endearing. Carl gave Max a weak smile and ordered a large coffee and an everything bagel.

“So sorry, Mr. Carl,” Max said, regret clear on his face. “We had to 86 the everything bagels. Garlic and onion we still have; that’s as close as it gets. I give you the coffee for free, to make up for it, okay?”

“No, no,” Carl said. “Garlic is fine. I’ll pay for the coffee. Things run out. It happens. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” Max grinned. He yelled to the kitchen. “Drop a garlic! You want cream cheese and lox with that?” Carl’s stomach did a backflip when it heard cream cheese, but lox would be good. He ordered it that way and sat down on the cushioned bench, sipping the too-hot coffee in the to-go cup.

“Order up!” Carl’s head whipped around; he had been woolgathering, and the movement hurt him. Wincing, he got up, paid and left the deli, coffee and bagel in tow. A tiny wisp of steam rose from the sipping oval in the lid. This time, he remembered to wear his shades before he got outside.

Carl found an empty wooden bench in the park nearby. He sat down, set his cup next to him, making sure it was level and wouldn’t tip over. He opened the bag, removed the bagel; the lox were wrapped separately. Carl pulled the halves of the warm, crispy bagel apart and slid the pink fish inside. He brought the food to his mouth and took a bite.

When it hit his taste buds, he was shocked. Carl had never tasted anything so good! Ravenous, he wolfed down the rest. Carl sat there, stunned for a moment. That was delicious.

Mechanically, he lifted the coffee to his lips and drank some. It was cold.

The church bells down the street rang once. One o’clock? How could that be? He had been sitting there for two-and-a-half hours. Carl shifted his weight, and realized both legs and his butt had fallen asleep. The pins and needles were excruciating. But they were nothing compared to what came next.

Carl’s stomach clenched. He doubled over. It felt like a spear was in his gut, a big one. The pain migrated. It went lower. The pressure was awful and intense. Carl lifted his shirt to look at himself. Something was pushing against his abdomen. He could see it, bulging under his skin. Watching and feeling it move inside him made him puke. He lurched to the side, but a lot of it got on him.

The thing inside Carl moved again and the pain almost made him pass out. He fell to the ground, writhing, groaning. He was distantly aware of a voice nearby. A man was talking to Carl, asking him if he needed help, if he needed a doctor.

“Get it outta me!” It was all he could manage. The stranger put a hand on Carl’s shoulder. His other hand pulled out a cell phone and dialed 911.

“Oh god! Oh my fucking god!” Carl ripped at his belt buckle, tore it open. He pulled his pants down as fast as he could. The bystander backpedaled, worried that this man might be crazy.

Carl bucked off the ground, screaming. Blood flecks flew out of his anus and the other man gasped and backed even further away. Carl’s whole body went rigid. He screamed once more and passed out.

The other man approached Carl, morbid curiosity forcing him to look. There on the ground lay a blood-covered lump. It was round, bumpy and looked too big to have been passed by a human being. The man looked closer, leaning in.

“What the hell,” he said. He recognized it. A bagel. A bagel that had been chewed and swallowed. Somehow, it had put itself back together inside this poor bastard’s stomach and forced its way out. “Jesus.”

Sirens approached the park, followed closely by police and an ambulance. The man told them what happened, nodding when they looked at him like he was crazy.

“I know what it sounds like,” he said. “But, that’s what happened. I’m not going to make something up just ‘cause the truth sounds crazy.”

He tried to show them the bagel, but it was gone. Of course it was.

The EMTs loaded Carl into the ambulance. Before the doors closed, the man heard one of the EMTs shout, “He’s flatlining!”

The man looked at the blood on the ground. There was a lot of it. Still no sign of the bagel. He shook his head. Maybe I’m losing it, he thought.

Then, he saw it.

The bagel was sitting on the bench, next to paper cup with a plastic lid. The lumpy circle of toasted dough was still wet with blood, but there seemed to be less of it. How did it get there? What the hell is going on?

He took a step toward the bench, never taking his eyes off the bagel. He squatted in front of the bench, leaned in for a closer look.

The bagel moved. The man flinched, but stayed where he was. He couldn’t take his eyes off the thing. It moved again, a little. The man watched, fascinated. He was pretty sure no one had ever seen anything like this. The bagel was inching its way across the bench in his direction. The whole event was surreal and captivating. The man noted that it left a trail of blood on the wood and wondered how long the bagel would take to reach the edge.

Then, Bang! It flew into his face, covering his nose and mouth. He couldn’t breathe: garlic and another man’s blood and feces filling his nostrils. He pried at it with his fingers, but it was already forcing itself into him, filling his throat and sinuses.

The man choked and gagged and clawed at his nose and mouth; he had time to think, Well, this is a stupid and absurd way to die. Then he was gone.


Max looked up as the bells on the door chimed. He grinned.

“Ms. Jessica!” he gave her a friendly wave. “So nice to see you.”

“Thanks, Max,” Jessica Saunders said. “Do you have any sesame bagels left?”

“Oh no,” Max said, full of regret. “I’m so sorry. We only have garlic left.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll take one of those. Toasted with lox, please.”


Climate Change Blog Tour: Guest Post from Daniel Durrant


Daniel Durrant is touring the internet this week on a virtual book tour, supporting his debut novella. A Steampunk tale with elements of espionage and suspense, Climate Change is book those who love the genre are not going to want to miss. So when I found out I was going to be hosting Daniel, I had a simple question for him – I wanted to know what went into creating the world his characters lived in. What I received from him is a delightful piece titled:

This Animal is of No Use to Mankind

Daniel Durrant

Climate Change is the first piece of Steampunk I’ve written, so the process was a steep learning curve for me. When the idea struck me I was tremendously excited – so much so that I drank several beers in something akin to the celebratory equivalent of a pre-emptive strike. But when the alcohol wore off, I realised something terrible; I had no idea how to write Steampunk.

After a short panic, I approached the problem like all good geeks: I would plan it first. The setting, at least, was easy; the quest to navigate the Northwest Passage provided that. Above all else, Steampunk is defined by technology, so I made that my next job. The “decay engines” I imagined effectively shaped the political landscape of my fictional world (and sometimes the geographical landscape, when they malfunctioned).

The development work was great fun; I wrote thirty pages of notes detailing every aspect of life in my re-imagined world. Then, realising I was enjoying it too much, I stopped and hit the last task – my characters.

The fact is this: you can have the best novel ever conceived, but without great characters it’s rubbish. Now, having drawn this very detailed alternative world, I didn’t know what the inhabitants would be like.

Our attitude and beliefs are the direct result of life experience. We’re all defined by the world we live in. The same needed to be true of my characters, but everything I came up with felt a bit “twentieth century” and just didn’t work.

Eventually I pinned down the problem. Yes, my characters would see advanced technology, but in the nineteenth century. They needed to see through Victorian eyes. The issue was how to portray that.

Then something – luck, fate, call it what you will – intervened, and I happened upon the Children’s Home Book of Natural History, dated 1855. This pocket-sized hardback has just 93 pages, each devoted to a domesticated or wild animal. The little engraving prints are lovely, but the real value is in the text.

There are too many gems to list here, but most precious amongst them are that “elephants are the most sagacious of all beasts”, that “a tame puma can make a suitable pet for children” (seriously) and that “a good dog is of more service than many idle men or boys”.

But best of all is the entry for the hippopotamus. A brief description is followed by the summary: “this animal is of no use to mankind”. Those eight words are a remarkably concise expression of the nineteenth century mind-set: “we can’t eat it, train it or wear it. Can’t even make glue out of it. It is worthless.” The Victorians saw everything as a resource to be used up.

Yes, Steampunk is all about twisting technology, but attitudes and beliefs must be twisted to match. Given the technological opportunity, would the Victorians have replaced slavery? You bet they would, and so my marionettes were born. Would new medical knowledge be used purely for good? No chance; in my world Edward Jenner makes his living from biological weapons.

Going right to the heart of the novel, what about the polar ice caps we worry about today? Merely a barrier to be destroyed; the environment was something to conquer, not cherish. That realisation defined my novel, and along the way, even provided the title. Perhaps fittingly, it was all inspired by a little book published in 1855. I rather like that.

Thank you Daniel! Now that we’ve read a little bit from his mind, let’s take a moment to get to know him a little better…

DD PhotoABOUT THE AUTHOR – Daniel Durrant is a new author writing mainly in the horror and science fiction genres. His short stories have been published in anthologies in the UK and USA, and he is currently working on his first full-length novel. He lives on the Norfolk Coast in England.

Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads


And now let’s take a look at Climate Change and read an excerpt from it!

ClimateChange_DanielDurrant_FrontCoverPromoIn a world driven by steam and power-hungry Industrialists, can one man change the course of history?

Edward Rankine, inventor and engineer aboard the battle-cruiser Dominator, has devised an ingenious plan to open the frozen Northwest Passage.

Believing he is performing a service for the benefit of mankind, Edward is appalled to discover there is a saboteur in his midst.

Working with a crew of ‘Jacks and Jills’, mechanically enhanced humans sentenced to a life of servitude, Edward is forced to battle on the icebound waters of the northern seas.

Not only does Edward have a mutiny on his hands, but he must also find a way to save the passengers aboard the Dominator, possibly abandoning his own noble ambition in the process.

Will Edward’s plan succeed in the face of adversity, or in failing to clear the Northwest Passage will he stumble upon something greater?

Purchase Links:


US | Canada | UK |Australia | Germany |France | Italy | Spain | Brazil | India | Mexico | Japan



Barnes & Noble

iTunes (Apple)

An Excerpt from Climate Change by Daniel Durrant… At the end of the excerpt is the giveaway information!

On the ride out, Edward tried to glimpse the modifications that were his design. All space forward was taken by three quadruple turrets. They began to pass the castle, but before the stern became visible, the ship was lost in a fog bank of her own making.

“She has decay engines?” Charlotte asked, watching steam engulf the superstructure.

“Yes, four.” He pointed at the cooling towers. “I can arrange a tour if you’d like,” he offered, hoping to impress.

“Yes.” She smiled. “I would.”

After hopping off at the loading pavilion, they pushed through the crowd and showed their papers to the Royal Marine manning the embarkation point. He directed them toward the nearest elevator, but as they approached, an enormous man began to close the gate.

“Hold, if you please!” Edward called, hurrying forward.

The giant hesitated, but dropped the latch at the signal of an expensively dressed woman standing beside him. The platform began to climb, but those aboard were unprepared. Near the guardrail, two men struggling with a huge portmanteau overbalanced.

Muscles battled gravity as the platform continued skyward. Gravity won. The luggage teetered on the edge before plummeting down, dragging one of the men behind it. They landed together. Clothes, trinkets, and blood dispersed across the unforgiving stone.

“Medic!” Charlotte yelled, running forward. “We need a doctor!”

Edward knelt down and grabbed the man’s wrist, but found no pulse.

“We shan’t need one, I’m afraid.” He shook his head.

“He’s dead?”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Miss,” a marine said. “He’s only a Jack.”

“A Jack?” Edward removed the man’s woolen hat. The scalp beneath was fashioned not from flesh, but metal. A bundle of wires trailed down under his collar. He stood, and looked around. Free from distraction, it was obvious; the stevedores moved with the stilted gait of the converted.

“You bloody fools!” The woman from the elevator barged past them, directing her staff to clean up. “Don’t touch that!” she shouted, as a maid picked up an ornate music box. She snatched the item away, and passed it to the tall man.

“Can I be of assistance?” Edward offered.

“I very much doubt it!” His offer seemed to feed her anger, but then she calmed. “It was a gift from my father,” she said, perhaps trying to justify her outburst. “Excuse us.”

“Lady Holden,” Charlotte murmured, as they climbed aboard another elevator. “I see she’s every bit as charming as her reputation suggests.”

The name seemed familiar, but Edward had no chance to enquire about it.

As they stepped aboard, a young man burst through a service door, charging toward them.

“Stop!” someone hollered, but the man paid no heed. He dashed for a loading ramp, but a gunshot ended his journey. He collapsed beside them, blood erupting from his chest.

Marines ran forward with guns drawn, but had no more targets.

“Sir? Madam? Are you alright?” An officer lowered his weapon, and stepped forward.

Edward looked at the would-be escapee. Blood spread unchecked until it hit the edge of the plank under him. Acting like a miniature dyke, the caulking carried it to the gunwale drain.

“Yes, we’re fine. Thank you, Lieutenant,” Charlotte replied.

A rhythmic hammering sound finally drew Edward’s attention from the body. Looking up, he saw Captain Fitzjames approaching. Standing nearly seven feet tall on his pneumatic legs, he strode forward to join them.

“I must apologize,” the Captain said. “Hardly an appropriate welcome, Miss Redpath.” He smiled. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Captain.” She nodded. “I was most grieved to hear of your injury at the battle of Buenos Aires.”

Redpath? Charlotte Redpath? Edward tried hard to keep his face blank, but knew he’d failed. Charlie? Stunned, he shook his head.

“Chance hit from a shore battery, but the objective was achieved. The Argentine Navy was completely destroyed.” Shrugging, he tapped the brass thigh tank. “The admiralty insists my uniform should be tailored to hide them, but I believe it does the men good to see that officers share the danger with them.” He turned to Edward. “Doctor Rankine, I presume?”

“Yes, Captain.” As a civilian, Edward had no protocol to observe, but pulled himself upright nonetheless. “It’s an honor, sir.”

“Hmn. Frankly, I don’t care for what you’ve done to my ship, Doctor. The loss of the aft turret concerns me.” He frowned, but then a narrow smile crossed his lips. “However, I must admit I’m curious to see the system in action.”

“Sir, look at this.” Kneeling beside the body, a Marine pulled the man’s shirt open. A small tree was tattooed on his sternum.

“Creationist!” Fitzjames growled. Air hissed from a bleed valve as he stamped a foot. “Lieutenant, organize a search-”

“Sir, we have another one!” Two Marines exited from the nearest elevator, dragging a man between them. “Caught him in the engine room, sir. Chief Engineer said he was tampering with the vortex transducers.”

“You are aboard a vessel of the Royal Navy,” Fitzjames said, clipping off each word. “Sabotaging a ship-of-the-line carries a mandatory life sentence. Take him for marionisation.”

“No!” The man sagged down between his captors. Only their grip prevented his collapse. “Captain, I beg you!”

“I’m sorry, son. It’s too late for that.” He hesitated. “Be grateful we have a good surgeon. It won’t hurt.”

Listening to him scream as the Marines hauled him away, Edward wondered if the dead man hadn’t been the luckier one. At least he couldn’t suffer any more.

“Captain, chance seems an unlikely explanation for this,” he said, trying to focus. “We have to consider that someone has leaked details of our mission.”

“You’re suggesting there’s a traitor aboard the Dominator?” Fitzjames snarled.

Thinking himself the target of the Captain’s anger, Edward took a step back.

“Damn it, you’re right. Too much coincidence.” He called the officers close. Through clenched teeth, he ordered an immediate departure. “We don’t want a panic. Keep this quiet, but place double guards on all restricted areas.” Surrounded by his entourage, he walked away, still issuing orders.

“You’re Charlotte Redpath?” Edward asked.

“The last time I checked, yes.” She looked down at herself.

“You might have told me.” The daughter of one of the wealthiest industrialists in the world, and he’d taken her for some grubby scout. Edward shook his head, feeling dizzy. He couldn’t take much more of this. As if the expedition alone wasn’t terror enough, trouble had struck before the ship could even sail.

“I’m sorry, Edward.” She touched his arm. “Don’t sulk. It wouldn’t have been nearly so much fun.”

“Oh, Miss Redpath?” Fitzjames turned back. “As I said, this is a vessel of the Royal Navy.” He gestured at her filthy clothes. “Sponsor or not, Her Majesty’s rules dictate a dress code.”


It’s a Giveaway!!

Sirens Call Publications will be giving away digital copies of Climate Change by Daniel Durrant to 5 (five) lucky winners! Follow the link to enter for your chance to win!

Win 1 of 5(five) copies of Climate Change by Daniel Durrant

The Coven Blog Tour: Guest Post from Angie Gallow

Angie Gallow is currently touring the internet in support of her vampiric horror debut novel, The Coven. I wanted to learn a little more about Angie’s process and in that, to learn just who her favourite character is. Luckily, she told me the answer and I’m sharing that with you all. But before we get to that, let’s learn a little bit more about Angie…

The author known as Angie Gallow enjoys all things weird and creepy. A great lover of books and words, words, words as Hamlet would so eloquently put it. Even though this is the first novel published, the author has been writing for years, honing her craft through the fine professors at Columbia College in Chicago.

Twitter | Facebook | GoodReads


So let’s hop in and learn just who Angie’s favourite is…

Do Writers Have a Favorite Character?

Angie Gallow

Many would equate a writer having a favorite character is similar to asking a mother if she has a favorite child, but yes, I do. I spent a great deal of time coming with up with diverse and interesting characters for my novel and in that development time, I became very attached to the character Grace LeVine. Many have said she favors my personality but the reason I enjoyed writing her was because I purposely made her mysterious.

It is believed that writers know their characters inside and out; what they would do in certain situations, when and where they were born and how they became the character we know them to be. Some writers enjoy showing their characters off in the sense they’re showing off what an awesome personality they’ve created. But Grace was like my little secret. With every other character, we can draw a line and figure out what makes them tick, but Grace is a bit harder to figure out.

I wanted Grace to be this mysterious little creature who has an ear for language, who becomes fluent in a language simply by hearing it for the first time. She is notoriously cool, calm and collected to the point where even being kidnapped by the band of rogue vampires doesn’t ruffle her. This is because I know all that Grace has been through in her mortal and immortal lives; she’s a runaway from a Baton Rouge orphanage who had to figure out a way to survive on the harsh streets of Victorian London. I loved knowing everything that went through Grace’s mind without showing it; I loved veiling her behind her even-tempered, Devil-may-care demeanor and expert gambling skills, which no one seems to know how she acquired.

Grace was my favorite because as much as I wanted to give her colorful past the spotlight, I refrained believing there should always be a character lurking in the story that only the writer truly knows. Although I know everything about all of my characters, Grace is really nothing like me. Although we share the same go-with-the-flow demeanor, Grace can stand in the face adversity and take it without flinching. Grace is simply one of those people who saves her emotions for the serious situations that call for her to be angry, sad, happy, or fearful; she doesn’t waste them. And when she makes up her mind, she’s made it, except when it comes to Lauren, he’s her only soft spot.

Thank you Angie! Now let’s take a look at The Coven and get to an excerpt from the book!

TheCoven_Final_cover_frontAfter a gruesome betrayal, vampire Sebastien Vilmont is flung into a whirlwind cat and mouse game when his traveling party is ambushed by an opposing group of bloodthirsty vampires. Maurice, the leader of Sebastien’s coven, makes the decision to not only wage war against the opposing vampire clan, but a clerical organization known as The Diocese Club who wishes to exterminate all vampire-kind.

Trying desperately to protect the secrecy of their coven’s location below the streets of Whitechapel, London, Sebastien finds himself at odds with Maurice in his desire to not engage in all-out war with the renegade Catholic faction. At the same time, he must also battle the other vampire coven to guard their anonymity from humans. In doing so, Sebastien is forced into choices and alliances he might not otherwise have made.

Set in the tone of Victorian England, The Coven is a thrilling and horrific journey through the seedier workings of the vampire underworld, and pious ideology of The Diocese Club.

Purchase Links:


US | Canada | UK | Australia | Germany | France | Italy | Spain | Brazil | India | Mexico | Japan



Barnes & Noble

iBooks (Apple)


And there’s a giveaway!! 

Win 1 of 5 copies of The Coven by Angie Gallow


An Excerpt from The Coven by Angie Gallow…


“You in or out, then?” Lauren Granger said tossing a coin onto the table as his Cockney accent honeyed the room. A marathon Poker game in the cellar had been in session the majority of the night. Lauren peered over his hand of cards with a toothy, mischievous grin at Sebastien.

“Surely, if you have enough money to cover your loss,” Sebastien retorted, raising one eyebrow. Lauren rolled his eyes and let a sigh pass from between his teeth.

The large round table they sat at was filled with empty glasses that held red residue, cards, coins and banknotes. Sebastien snuffed out his cigarette in a smoking tray, ending the wafting ballet of red smoke only to replace it with a fresh one. It dangled idly from his lips as he lit it and studied his cards as though they were a complex mathematic equation and one misplaced step would ruin his answer. Another coin fell on top of the pile.

“In.” Grace LeVine’s southern accent echoed. She sat beside Lauren at the table. Sebastien glanced up at the small beauty who wore a look of calm indifference as she rearranged the cards in her hand. Grace’s eyes seemed to hold every star in the sky within them and carried a complexion of the finest bowl of butterscotch money could buy.

Lauren leapt up from sitting on one of his loose suspender straps then rearranged himself back in his chair.

“Nervous, comrade?” Octavio Perez grinned sheepishly as he fingered a banknote in his white hands before letting it fall onto the table. His eyes were sharp as knives and he grinned like a plotting villain.

“He never wins, he’s got nothing to be nervous about,” Octavio’s twin sister, LaStacia passed a wink across the table at Sebastien, who chuckled silently behind his cards.

“Bugger off, the lot of you,” Lauren sighed, relieved at the fact he was incapable of turning red.

“Not our fault you play like a dog,” Lee Green’s deaf-accented voice sounded at Lauren. Lauren twisted his nose a bit and looked at Lee with a grimace.

“You just call me a doll, then?”

“He’s said, ‘dog’, love,” Grace looked at her sweetheart then back to Lee, signing what he said back to him. Lee nodded with a light giggle, “Dog,” Grace made the sign for the word, sliding her fingers together as one does to snap them. Grace had learned Lee’s mode of communication in the same fashion she had learned Spanish. Grace would become fluent by hearing any language only once and she was the only person in the entire coven who could communicate effectively with Lee.

Sebastien glanced over his cards once more before a small hand reached passed him for a waiting glass. Calvin Bell was only a head taller than the table. He carried a round tray in his small arms that he would place empty glasses.  The little boy circled the table with his tray. No one sitting asked him for much of anything and did their best to ignore the fact that a mortal child was acting as their servant.

Calvin passed Grace, who would carefully slip a series of coins from her own pocket into the lad’s as he moved past her. Calvin smiled lightly and eased past Lauren, who merely took his glass back before Calvin could lift it.

“I got it, lad, no worries,” Lauren would often say whenever Calvin attempted his duties. Finally, as the child finished his rounds, Sebastien lifted the tray from his hands. Calvin looked at Sebastien with sapphire eyes that twinkled innocently.

“Have a seat,” he moved an empty chair closer to the table for Calvin, who did so reluctantly. Sebastien placed a hand fondly on the boy’s head.

Everyone sitting at the table was considered an outcast within the coven. Lauren and Grace’s poverty was apparent the moment they arrived. The only possession of value between them was a pocket watch Lauren inherited after the death of his father at the age of six. Having only been in their twenties when they were transformed and used to living in squalor, Maurice had assigned them quarters near the coven house’s cellars.

Calvin sat quietly at the table, watching the card game. The child was the only mortal within the coven’s walls. He was bound to the place after a group of vampires invaded his home and killed his family; he was found hiding from the slaughter in his bedroom closet. He was carted back to the coven and given to Alaric, under the coven’s strict rules that children were never to be killed. The child was made to earn his keep as the coven’s servant boy and would forever remain.

LaStacia and Octavio were often never trusted; their clairvoyance kept others away. They would often take turns mystifying and otherwise, terrifying coven members with their sight, finding members of the coven and telling them information without warning. It was such a random occurrence that members would be fearful of what they could be told; the intense and thorough insight had forced them out of the coven’s acceptance.

Lee was unknown and deaf. His inability to communicate properly was viewed as something distasteful, like an illness that was contagious should one get too close. Maurice shunned him by appointing him as a personal secretary. He was given an office and enough work to seal him away for as long as needed. It was unknown how he arrived or found out about the coven but despite being locked away, nothing about their home was a mystery to him.

Sebastien had been unable to blend into the well-kept coven. He continued to live the life he was accustomed to; alone and private with few friends. He was never fond of a wealthy lifestyle nor could he comprehend the need for extravagance. The coven house was bathed in dazzling colors, rich ornaments and glossy furnishings. Members were proud to match their new home with decadence, refined etiquette and holier than thou behaviors. Sebastien was often revolted whenever he was made to participate.

He took a swallow from his glass and looked over at Lauren.

“I will see your five shillings,” Sebastien threw coins onto the table, “and raise you… ten more.”

Lauren’s eyes widen at the sight of the money on the table. Calvin giggled at the sight of his twisted expression as Grace placed her hand on his elbow.


Sebastien eyed his competitor with a smirk and Lauren could only blink. Lauren looked down at his cards, holding an incomplete pair and felt his stomach lurch. He threw his head back against the head of the chair and threw down his cards.

“Bloody hell!”

Octavio finally revealed his hand; an ace, a king, an eight of clubs and four of hearts. His sister looked at him with contempt, having bet their last banknote. She slapped the back of his head as Octavio cradled his face in his hands. Lee looked around and shrugged, his hand was no better, if not worse than Octavio and Lauren’s. He laid the cards out and took his loss.

Grace and Sebastien eyed one another with competitive glares. Grace had made a career playing every game that one could bet on before her life as a vampire and Sebastien tried to think of new ways to outplay and outthink her.

“Ladies, first,” Sebastien graciously motioned towards Grace.

“Yeah, too bad you called me a ragamuffin earlier,” she countered.

“That was before money was on the table.”

Grace looked down at her cards with a somber gaze for what felt like an eternity. Her nimble fingers teased the edge of the cards as she made the few subtle adjustments to their order. Octavio looked over at her, his elbows still resting on the table in defeat and his sister leaning over as she watched Grace’s unraveled expression. Grace leaned forward as she plucked a card from her hand and raised it just before it hit the tabletop.

A royal flush presented itself on the table and Sebastien’s face fell to the floor. Lauren and Lee let out hearty laughter as Grace’s hand swiped the money from the table. She smiled warmly as Sebastien wiped his face free of tension before letting out a hard sigh. Grace put her money in the front pocket of her trousers. “Maybe now we can buy our way out of the cellars?” she looked at Lauren.

“Good luck with that bargain,” Lauren laughed.

The game ended and the friends went their separate ways. Calvin trailed behind Sebastien like a faithful pup as they climbed the stairs from the parlor. They emerged in the main corridor, greeted with a glowing chandelier that bounced light from whatever surface it touched.  Sebastien began down the hall, towards his chambers when Alaric approached him coming from the opposite direction. Calvin was waved along as Alaric stopped short in front of Sebastien.

“I’ve been looking for you all evening.” Alaric placed his arm slightly around Sebastien, turning him in the opposite direction. He spoke in a cagey whisper as he led them down the hall, “Father has an idea that I think we should consider.”

“We?” Sebastien inquired. His suspicions mounted as he recalled the volatile reaction from Maurice months prior, after Sebastien recounted his tale of how he had arrived. He had buried the account in the back of his mind, giving no real thoughts to it as he carried on with his existence. Alaric shushed his friend, telling him to keep his voice low.

“Yes, we,” Alaric affirmed.

They finally stopped and Alaric opened a door and ushered his friend inside. He shut the door behind him and motioned for Sebastien to sit. The room was dim as the two sat across from each other and Sebastien pulled out another cigarette, striking a match.

“Since you’re one of the few survivors who has seen the vampires that have been employed by the Diocese Club, Father wants you to assist with his plans,” Alaric explained.

“What are his plans?” Sebastien’s tone was matter of fact as he eyed his friend intently. Sebastien’s cigarette hissed as he inhaled. Alaric explained that Maurice was drawing plans to capture one of the vampires who had been trained to work for the Diocese Club, saying that Maurice would extract information from the vampire by any means to use against the Diocese. Sebastien closed his eyes and removed the cigarette from between his lips.

“And how does he intend to do this?” the sarcasm in Sebastien’s tone was not missed and Alaric leaned forward.

“That’s where you come in.”

“Excuse me?” Sebastien raised an eyebrow and looked closely at his friend. Contempt grew in his eyes and Sebastien unfolded his legs and leaned forward, “Does it look like I want to be involved with something as insanely dangerous as that? I understand your father’s motives and means to exact revenge but for the love of God! Even with one, two or all of those vampires, we will never have enough information to take down that organization! The attempt at a war is a suicidal plot that I will not be a part of!”

Alaric looked at Sebastien and silently weighed out his friend’s convictions. Alaric continued to stress that the plan would help end the savage attacks on their kind. He continued to say that the plan could assist in finding the other vampires in the hunting group. Yet, the more he talked, the more Sebastien stubbornly shook his head.

“I will not be a part of a campaign that has the strongest potential for our downfall. Tell your father that regardless of any amount of information he extracts, the Diocese Club is too elusive. Hell, where would you even begin to search for one of those vampires?”

Alaric’s face darkened as Sebastien stood from the chair and made his way towards the door.

“We know ourselves well enough to know where to look for them.”

Thank you Angie!

#Winners Announced!!

The giveaway I was running for the #SummerofZombie blog tour ended last night at 11:59pm EST and I have picked the winners!! In no particular order they are:

Claire Rees

ZombieGlorya QueenoftheDead Snodgrass

Susan Pigott

Tammy Gaylor Beard

Rebecca Besser

Each of these wonderful Zombie fans wins a digital copy of Glimpses of the Undead and Days with the Undead; Book One!

A huge thank you to all whom entered and downloaded a #FREE copy of The Dead of Penderghast Manor!


#FREE Promotion and #GIVEAWAY

It’s Friday the 13th and what would this day be without a few treats for everyone??

First up, Phrenic Press has decided to put my short story, The Dead of Penderghast Manor, on FREE promo from today until June 15th. That means you can go to Amazon and download a copy for your reading enjoyment without having to shell out any of your hard earned pennies!  Clicking on the cover will take you to Amazon for the download!



Also available for free on these Amazon sites: 

Canada | Australia | UK | Germany | France | Italy | Spain | Mexico | India | Japan | Brazil


And in addition to that, I’m running a giveaway as part of the #SummerofZombie Blog Tour spearheaded by Armand Rosamilia from today until June 15th!

What’s up for grabs?

5 prize packs which include digital copies of both Glimpses of the Undead, my short story collection and Days with the Undead: Book One.


 Enter for a Chance to Win!

And do you want to know what’s cool?? If you download a #FREE copy of The Dead of Penderghast Manor, you get extra entires! If you want to read the short, and leave an honest review for it on Amazon, you’ll get even more entries!