K.I.A.
by Alexander Charalambides
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Thriller/NA
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BLURB:
Hildegard lives in a real-life dollhouse, surrounded by prop houses and actors who play friends,
teachers and foster parents. Only one man ever seemed real, and after his disappearance, she’s
had enough playing along. As Hildegard makes her final preparations to run away from home, a swarm
of black clad soldiers appear, controlling the police and swarming across her home town. She can
evade them for now, but after learning their mission, she decides to play along one last time, following
them to Truman Academy, a lonely building on a freezing aleutian island. Hildegard knows it for what
it is: just another prop, but not everyone feels the same way. Through the hell of endless drills and
marching, Hildegard befriends the stealthy Grace and bloodthirsty David, and enlists them in an effort
to unravel the plan of the man called G and his monstrous menagerie of inhuman soldiers.
teachers and foster parents. Only one man ever seemed real, and after his disappearance, she’s
had enough playing along. As Hildegard makes her final preparations to run away from home, a swarm
of black clad soldiers appear, controlling the police and swarming across her home town. She can
evade them for now, but after learning their mission, she decides to play along one last time, following
them to Truman Academy, a lonely building on a freezing aleutian island. Hildegard knows it for what
it is: just another prop, but not everyone feels the same way. Through the hell of endless drills and
marching, Hildegard befriends the stealthy Grace and bloodthirsty David, and enlists them in an effort
to unravel the plan of the man called G and his monstrous menagerie of inhuman soldiers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt Two:
Kneeling against the open door, I can hear voices, but not clearly enough to tell what they’re saying.
The garage is crowded, though; too many footsteps.
From here, I can see about half the room. The ramp leading down to the ambulance, the open gate, and some piles of stretchers and medical supplies. It’s completely dark, apart from the distant rays of street lights filtering in past the ambulance. Somewhere on the wall I can’t see is a light source, and since I hear but don’t see people, I’m going to assume that’s where they’re standing.
I test the floor; it changes from plastic tile to concrete at the threshold. Not really ideal. I lay flat on the ground, and try to crawl, as slowly as possible, on elbows and knees. The railings on the ramp to the ambulance, combined with the darkness, should keep me hidden, as long as the people in here keep talking, I might even be able to listen in.
It feels as if my heart should be beating out of my chest, whatever that means, but to be honest, I think I’d prefer that. What it actually feels like, as the ambulance inches closer, is freezing to death in a blizzard. Each time my heart beats, there’s a second of suspense as I wait for the next one.
I can’t stand up. It’s too low, they’ll see me. I’ll have to crawl all the way.
“All teams, reporting in for the fifth sweep.”
“And?”
“Still nothing.”
I want to turn on my side, watch them, but I can see enough in my peripheral vision. Five men, standing in a group, one holds a small light, strapped to the forest of pouches and armor on his chest. The others peer into a variety of equipment, propped up on black plastic legs or resting on piles of bags and boxes.
The ambulance’s tire is by my hand. The back of my neck hasn’t stopped itching.
It’s getting worse, in fact.
“It may be time to consider the possibility we were misinformed. Should’ve brought dogs.”
“Sir?”
I’m under the ambulance now. Five feet to go. I turn on my side, to watch them.
“She’s not here. How is she not here?”
Leaning against the far rail is a man with the proportions of a spider monkey, equipment hanging off him like autumn leaves on a tree. He’s looking right at me.
The garage is crowded, though; too many footsteps.
From here, I can see about half the room. The ramp leading down to the ambulance, the open gate, and some piles of stretchers and medical supplies. It’s completely dark, apart from the distant rays of street lights filtering in past the ambulance. Somewhere on the wall I can’t see is a light source, and since I hear but don’t see people, I’m going to assume that’s where they’re standing.
I test the floor; it changes from plastic tile to concrete at the threshold. Not really ideal. I lay flat on the ground, and try to crawl, as slowly as possible, on elbows and knees. The railings on the ramp to the ambulance, combined with the darkness, should keep me hidden, as long as the people in here keep talking, I might even be able to listen in.
It feels as if my heart should be beating out of my chest, whatever that means, but to be honest, I think I’d prefer that. What it actually feels like, as the ambulance inches closer, is freezing to death in a blizzard. Each time my heart beats, there’s a second of suspense as I wait for the next one.
I can’t stand up. It’s too low, they’ll see me. I’ll have to crawl all the way.
“All teams, reporting in for the fifth sweep.”
“And?”
“Still nothing.”
I want to turn on my side, watch them, but I can see enough in my peripheral vision. Five men, standing in a group, one holds a small light, strapped to the forest of pouches and armor on his chest. The others peer into a variety of equipment, propped up on black plastic legs or resting on piles of bags and boxes.
The ambulance’s tire is by my hand. The back of my neck hasn’t stopped itching.
It’s getting worse, in fact.
“It may be time to consider the possibility we were misinformed. Should’ve brought dogs.”
“Sir?”
I’m under the ambulance now. Five feet to go. I turn on my side, to watch them.
“She’s not here. How is she not here?”
Leaning against the far rail is a man with the proportions of a spider monkey, equipment hanging off him like autumn leaves on a tree. He’s looking right at me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Alexander Charalambides was born in London and grew up in Berkshire in the UK.
He studied Creative Writing, and graduated from the Open University.
As a freelance writer Alexander enjoys storytelling just as much as editing and analysis, but often takes time off to enjoy wind surfing, do the sickest of motorcycle flips, wrestle with deadly animals and lie about his hobbies.
In 2008 he moved to the USA and now lives in New Hampshire’s beautiful White Mountains with his family and two dogs, Gwynne and Gimli.
Website: AlexanderCharalambides.com
Facebook: facebook.com/ajcharalambides
Twitter: twitter.com/ajcharalambides
Interview with Alexander Charalambides
Do your characters seem to hijack the story or do you feel like you have the reins of the story?
I am always in control. Do not attempt to resist.
Convince us why your book is a must-read
I’d feel kind of bad doing this. Please go to the amazon page, though, I have quite a few nice reviews.
Have you written any other books that are not published?
Every author has tons of stuff they’re never published. Usually because it’s not very good. Maybe I’m projecting.
Pen or typewriter or computer?
Computer, you can tell because I’m writing this on a computer right now.
Anything you would like to say to your readers or fans?
Please continue to enjoy the nonsense I produce.
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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION
Alexander Charalambides will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via
rafflecopter during the tour.
rafflecopter during the tour.
Follow the tour: https://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2017/11/nbtm-kia-by-alexander-charalambides.html
Thanks for hosting!
ReplyDeleteI am really enjoying following this tour, thank you for all the great blog posts and excerpts!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed getting to know your book; congrats on the tour, I hope it is a fun one for you, and thanks for the chance to win :)
ReplyDeleteOK, so you build boxes for your characters and stuff them into the boxes. What happens if they DO resist?
ReplyDeleteI liked the excerpt.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing the great post, I enjoyed reading it!
ReplyDeleteThanks 4 sharing this giveaway and congrats on the tour.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a bunch of super soldiers you hear about in conspiracy theory. Thanks 4 sharing the book with me.
ReplyDeleteIs this going to be a series or stand -alone?
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like an exciting read thanks 4 sharing it with me.
ReplyDeleteDo you prefer audio or reading an ebook?
ReplyDeleteDo draw any inspiration from other authors?
ReplyDeleteDo you like any particular genres?
ReplyDeleteWho or what inspired you during your writing journey?
ReplyDeleteWhen did you want to start writing?
ReplyDelete