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Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Romance is the the Air Day 8 - Taylor Hart




The Dream Groom by Taylor Hart

Scar Walker, professional football player and ex Navy Seal, only wanted to focus on getting his gym built for military vets while he was in San Diego. He didn’t want to take crap from his brother, he didn’t want to deal with a lippy waitress, and he really didn’t want random people calling him on the phone.

Shayla Castle came to San Diego to finally live out her childhood dream. When she accidentally calls the mysterious phone number left on her table while waitressing, she never anticipated it would be the handsome jerkface soldier who chewed her out that morning. It confuses her even more when the same jerkface shows up the next night and saves her from an attacker.

She never would have imagined she and soldier boy would start talking every night and she really never imagined he would convince her to let him do her bucket list together. After a hike at Torrey Pines, a helicopter ride, and surfing at Oceanside…she finds she just might be falling for this soldier boy.

When things get heated, she’s left with a choice—let go of the past or lose a new dream she was just starting to discover.



A sweet, fast, love story and an Adonis hero. Yumm!

My favorite of the Titan romances so far! Who can resist the nicknames, the code words, the bucket list, or the pillow talk?

Scar is simply a hero through and through. He may be my favorite hero of all time.

Scar and Shayla were fabulous together! I loved the fireworks that sparked when they met. Scar was tough on the outside with a heart of gold. Don't miss this fast-paced, romantic story!










“What are you doing?” His words were stilted, and his discomfort made her relax more.
“I’m arguing the merits or justification that Juliet had for killing herself when she thought Romeo was dead.”
For a beat, he didn’t answer, like he was weighing his response on his tongue. “She was stupid. Plain and simple. Life is precious. Killing herself was a huge waste.”
Shayla disagreed. “She was in love. She was heartbroken.”
He barked out a laugh. “Life is worth more than love. She was reckless. She was too young to be messing around with a thug like Romeo. He shouldn’t have married her in the middle of the night. He would have gotten his throat cut if her father had known. That’s why he did it in the cloak of darkness.”
That was a valid argument, actually. She smiled. “Cloak of darkness, really? Should I put that in my paper?”
“Hey, I won’t complain if you feel the need to quote me.” His voice had gone husky.
Intrigued, she pushed aside her laptop and leaned against the back of her bed, thinking how this was getting interesting. “Why can’t you tell me about the scar now?”
He sighed. “You have no filter, do you, Kansas?”
The way he said “Kansas” sounded so good. Feeling a bit bad, she shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Seriously, another night. Let’s talk about your paper.”
“Sure.” She went back to the topic, even though she really wanted to know now. “Juliet had pledged her dying love to Romeo. Juliet trusted Romeo.”
“Still stupid and childish.”
“Was it? Because by Romeo’s actions we see that Romeo loved and trusted Juliet. He didn’t let it stand. She didn’t die by herself. He died too.”
He grunted. “So sacrifice for love is always worth it?”
“Always,” she said softly, feeling more convinced as she said it. “That’s why it was pretty awesome you jumped in to help me even though I don’t deserve it and you didn’t know me.”
“But I didn’t love you,” Scar pointed out. He said it so bluntly, she was thrown off balance. “I jumped in because I believe in humanity, goodness, honor, and duty.”
She found herself liking this man. A lot. “Love of country before love of self.”
“You do what’s right because it’s the right thing to do,” he said. “I had SEAL guys who proved that to me. Over and over.”
Her respect for him went up a notch. “You’re a SEAL?”
He cleared his throat. “Was. Got shot. Discharged with honors. I had the option of being regular military but turned it down.”
“What do you do currently?”
“Play football for the Texas Titans.”
This was unreal. She wasn’t really into football, but Jason had loved the Titans. “You play professional football?”
He scoffed. “I pretty much just get throttled most of the time. I’m on the practice team.”
She considered what SEALs did, then tried to imagine what it was like on the practice team. “So you’re obviously masochistic.”
He laughed.
“What are you doing in San Diego?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m actually in San Diego for three to four weeks working on a project to design a facility for military vets. It’s a program that focuses on helping vets through sparring. There will also be counselors to help them and a coffee shop where they can hang out. No one would show up just to be psychoanalyzed, but if we can get them in for sparring and socializing, we can really help the ones who need it.”
She cleared her throat. “I have to admit I’m a bit intimidated by you.”
“No,” he said, sounding shocked. “Don’t be.”
“How old are you?” she blurted, regretting the words as soon as they tumbled out. “Sorry, the no filter thing.” She cringed, knowing she sounded like an idiot and was grateful for the distance of the telephone while talking to him.
“Ah, you’re breaking my heart already, Shayla.”
Her heart rate kicked up a notch. Was he going to answer the question?
“I’m twenty-eight,” he said. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
He sighed. “Is that okay with you?”
Feeling uncertain, she said, “Yeah, that’s fine. I mean, whatever. It’s not like we’re dating or anything.”
He chuckled, a wonderful sound. “That dispels any intentions I had.”
Butterflies rushed through her and she knew she’d be blushing. Checking the time, she saw it was almost eleven-thirty. “I gotta go. Paper is due by midnight, and I still have to finish it.”
“Okay,” he said. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
Happiness surged through her. She pushed it away, not wanting to think it meant anything. He was way too old for her. “Sure.”
“Well, then, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”






Author Taylor Hart

Taylor Hart has always been drawn to a good love triangle, hot chocolate and long conversations with new friends. Writing has always been a passion that has consumed her dreams and forced her to sit in a trance for long hours, completely obsessed with people that don’t really exist. Taylor would have been a country star if she could have carried a tune—maybe in the next life.





















Giveaway Details
$25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Giveaway

Ends 3/7/18

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.


Mating Games by Nikki Jefford blitz


Mating Games
Nikki Jefford
(Wolf Hollow Shifters, #2)
Publication date: February 13th 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
A FEMALE GUARDING HER HEART . . .
Hot-tempered, agile, and jaded, Jordan spurns the match her father is pushing between her and the swaggering mammoth, Raider. She’d happily let one of her fawning sisters take him, but her packmates are taking bets on who Raider will ultimately claim. Jordan wants nothing to do with the insufferable beast . . . until he saves her life.
A MALE CARRYING THE WEIGHT OF HIS PACK . . .
All brawn and no brains, that’s what most male shifters think when they see Raider. The females treat him as a strong, attractive prize they want to sink their claws into. Only one female avoids him, which is fine with him until they are paired up for patrol. The hot-blooded she-wolf doesn’t have to like him, but she’ll have to find a way to perform her duties.
ENTANGLED IN A WEB OF DECEIT . . . AND DESIRE
When Jordan’s life is threatened, along with several packmates, the mating games take a dangerous turn.
Something sinister is happening in Wolf Hollow and outside forces threaten the impassioned bond forming between two shifters fated to be together.
Book 1 – Wolf Hollow – is only 99¢ for a limited time!

Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play
EXCERPT:
A figure flew around the bend, emerging through the thicket on two long legs. Jordan screeched in surprise when she saw him directly in her path. Seconds later, her eyebrows slashed across her forehead angrily as she regained her composure. As Raider shifted, crouched on the ground, she spun around to avoid seeing him naked.
Jordan kept her back to him. “What were you doing snarling in the middle of the trail like a mad wolf?” she demanded, gesturing with her arms.
She looked ridiculous addressing the trees rather than facing Raider as he stood and dusted himself off.
“What were you doing crashing through the forest like a vulhena on the attack?” Raider fired back.
Jordan whipped around, mouth agape as though indignant. With her jaw clenched, she shot him an incredulous look that faded as her eyes slid south, inch by inch, as though drawn down against her will. Her gaze brushed over him where the wind did not. It slid down his chest and slipped further yet, to his thighs and the hardness between.
A moment of pride swept over Raider when he caught the whites of her eyes as they widened right before they snapped up and met his. Her cheeks flushed bright red. She twisted around, causing dust to rise around her ankles with her speed. His cock tightened and pulsed at the sight of her pert back end, as though she’d turned in offering rather than aversion.
Normally not one to taunt, Raider couldn’t help himself now. “Don’t tell me you’ve turned shy, Jordan. It’s not like you haven’t seen a cock before… Well, maybe not one this big.”


Author Bio:
Nikki Jefford is an adventure seeker, storyteller, and book lover. She is a third-generation Alaskan now living in the Pacific Northwest with her French husband and their Westie, Cosmo. When she’s not reading or writing, she enjoys nature, hiking, and motorcycling.

Author Links:


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Barnabus Tew and the Case of the Missing Scarab by Comumbkill Noonan book blitz

Hexcommunicated by Rafael Chandler





Hexcommunicated
Rafael Chandler

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Neoplastic Press

Date of Publication: July 7, 2012

ISBN: 978-1478196662
ASIN: B008IVFRCE

Number of pages: 302
Word Count: 94,400

Cover Artist: Lou Harper
Cover Model: Rose Ballentine

Tagline: When the sun comes up, the girl of his dreams will murder him.



Book Description:

The name is Tepes. Nicolae Tepes. I'm a federal agent with Hex Division.

When the sun comes up, the girl of my dreams is going to kill me.

My partner's a werewolf, but we get along okay. We were investigating this murder when we stumbled across a conspiracy unlike anything we've ever dealt with before. Ghostmortems, Scarevoyants, all kinds of freaks.

It started bad and got worse quick: a psychic on our team had a vision of the future. At sunrise, I'll die at the hands of the woman I love, and then a psychotic death cult will deploy a supernatural weapon of mass destruction.

We've got eight hours to prevent this prophecy from coming true, but the psychics of Hex Division are never wrong...

Excerpt
Two:


I holstered my gun. "Right. Let's toss the place."

Zheng flipped the mattress over.

I pulled dresser drawers. I froze. Stainless steel shuriken rattled against each
other. I hauled open a few more drawers; in each one, more throwing stars.
Maybe a hundred total.

"Whiskey tango foxtrot," Zheng said. She leaned the mattress against the wall. A
half-dozen circular saw blades gleamed on the boxspring.

"Ambush," I said. I drew my gun. I snapped my fangs.

Zheng went feral: full werewolf. Teeth bared, she hunched over and glared around the
room, waiting for something to twitch so that she could eviscerate it. I held
still.

After a minute, I relaxed.

"Okay," I said. "Nobody here. Let's keep searching."

With a high-pitched scraping sound, the bed's metal frame buckled once, then lurched
across the room. With a heavy thud, it slammed end-first into the door,
scattering saw blades all over the carpet.

I got ready to shoot, but there was no one to aim at. The bed had moved of its
own accord. I whirled around. No targets. Zheng growled, a menacing rumble from
deep in her chest. She cocked her head like a terrier. I heard it too: a
clinking sound.

The shuriken in the drawers floated up into the air. Suspended by some invisible
force, they twirled in neat rows, their sharpened edges flinging light around
the room.

"Jesus on the cross," Zheng said.

I bolted for the bathroom. "Move," I said. "Get the door." I
couldn't seem to form complete sentences. My instincts were screaming in
crimson meter-high all-caps. My legs felt like concrete.

The circular saw blades wobbled up off the carpet and formed a line, rotating
cautiously. They hovered. Zheng turned to follow me into the bathroom.

As if fired from a gun, the shuriken sliced through the air towards us. Behind
them, the saw blades spun forward.

A hungry blade caught me in the side, chewing through my ribs and shredding one
of my lungs. I coughed out a scream and fell short of the bathroom door. Pain
sizzled in my nerve endings as a cluster of shuriken bit into my upper back,
embedding themselves in the muscle tissue. Another saw blade shrieked towards
me. I rolled over. It thunked into the carpet, then trembled as it tried to
wrench itself out of the floor.

Zheng lunged for the bed frame. "Get it off the door," she snarled.
Shuriken swarmed her like a school of piranha, slicing into her wrists and
thighs, then darting away. She hauled at the frame, but it wouldn't budge, held
in place by the same force that had turned this hotel room into a
slaughterhouse.

A saw blade whistled towards Zheng's neck. She jerked her head to the side. It
bounced off the metal frame, then zipped towards me. I scrambled off the
blood-soaked carpet and hurled myself into the bathroom. Kicking the door shut,
I slid back across the tiles. Saw blades thunked into the door.

"Break the window," I yelled through the door. "Jump for it." Zheng
could survive a six-story fall, no problem.

"Can't get through," she yelled back. "Any windows in there?"

"No."

I grabbed the sink, elbowed myself up, and glimpsed a blood-soaked ghoul in the
mirror, a throwing star sticking out of his shoulder. With a grunt, I reached
back and started to yank it out, then thought better of it. At least it was
stuck in the bone. If I pulled it loose, it might go for my eyes.

The toilet lid rattled.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I said, backing away. The lid bounced up. A dozen
serrated kitchen knives scraped their tips past the ceramic lid, shiny shark
teeth poking forward as I reached for the doorknob.

Diving back into the room, I pulled the door shut behind me. The knives punched
halfway through the door. I backed up.

Zheng stood in the middle of the room, clothes slashed to ribbons, muscles bulging as
she swung the dresser around. Shuriken and saw blades, stuck in the dresser,
shook violently as they tried to wrench themselves loose.

Flakes of plaster tumbled down from a ragged hole in the drywall; it looked like Zheng
had tried to claw her way through to the next room.

I aimed my gun at the window, then saw the saw blades, dozens of them, pressed
against the glass, a foot apart from each other, spinning silently. Any attempt
to pass through them would hack me into strips.

"I got heartbeats," Zheng growled. It was hard to understand her with those
monstrous fangs in her mouth.

Behind her, a swarm of shuriken wheeled and dove. "Behind you."

She dropped the dresser and swatted at the throwing stars irritably, some of them
smacking into her arm, clacking into the bone. Blood spurted. She yelped. A
metal lamp whipped itself off a nightstand and clocked me in the temple. I fell
to my knees, black spots dancing across my field of vision. Zheng hauled me to
my feet.

"Two pulses, both slow. All this yelling, they should be worried. But they're not.
Whoever they are, they're asleep."

I blinked, trying hard to put this all together. A saw blade flew at me. I picked
up the wooden coffee table and used it as a shield; the blade buzzed through
the table and tore off part of my right bicep. I grabbed the spurting wound,
clamped down on it. How much blood had I lost? Three or four pints? Out of
what, ten? How long before I passed out and got decapitated?

A half-dozen saw blades peeled off the window and darted towards us. Zheng picked
up the dresser and chucked it at them.

"Apologies in advance," Zheng growled. "No time to claw through the wall. I need
a battering ram."

"Wait," I croaked.

Ignoring my protests, she hoisted me up.

"You got all those metal parts," she said, a shuriken clipping one of her ears
off. "Figure I'm strong enough, you should go through drywall pretty
good."



"Oh, shit," I said.






About the Author:

Rafael Chandler writes novels (Mask Beneath Her Face, The Astounding Antagonists), video games (SOCOM 4, Rainbow Six: Lockdown), and tabletop role-playing games (Teratic Tome, Lusus Naturae). He's a metalhead, kaijuphile, and gorehound.








Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/797404.Rafael_Chandler

Interview with Rafael Chandler

Where do you get inspiration for your stories?

Typically, I start with a single image, and extrapolate from there. For The Astounding Antagonists, I had this mental picture of a group of comic-book supervillains who rob banks as a political statement against billionaire superheroes. They're not in it for the money. They're trying to stick it to the Man!

For Dracula: The Modern Prometheus, I envisioned a female vampire who despaired of ever creating a vampire like herself -- all of the people she bit turned into mindless predators -- so she created a companion from dead bodies. I saw Countess Dracula stitching her creation up, connecting the electrodes, mixing chemicals in her lab.

For Hexcommunicated, I saw a vampire with a badge and a gun -- a federal agent who kicked down doors and got into high-speed chases while pursuing zombies, werewolves, and other creatures of the night. But the investigation went south, and I pictured him facing all kinds of new national security threats, weird stuff the vampire had never encountered before. For instance, Handroids, these severed human hands with wires and circuits, scrambling out of a box to swarm over him while he cursed and tried to pull them off.

How did you do research for your book?

While writing Hexcommunicated, I read a lot of books and articles about military plans involving the supernatural. I discovered that truth really is stranger than fiction.

For example, the OSS had a plan involving glowing foxes.

See, during WW2, there was a proposal to use foxes to demoralize and frighten Japanese soldiers. In Shinto religion, foxes are seen as sneaky or evil.

The OSS decided to cover foxes with glow-in-the-dark paint and release them in war zones. They tested their plan in New York, by releasing a few dozen glowing foxes in Central Park. Predictably, people freaked out.

The test was judged a success, so the plan was given the green light, but while they were trying to catch all the foxes, the war ended.

Do you have another profession besides writing?

I work in video game development, and I design tabletop role-playing game sourcebooks.

I've been working in the video game business since 2000. For most of that time, I've worked as a scriptwriter and story designer for companies like Sony, Ubisoft, Gameloft, and Kabam. My job requires me to create plots, develop characters, and write dialogue. I've also done some copywriting (back-of-the-box text, social media content, that sort of thing) and I've worked with voice actors a bit (casting them, directing them). I've worked on several of the Tom Clancy games (for instance, I wrote Rainbow Six: Lockdown), and I've worked as a writer on three games in the SOCOM series. It's a fun job!

When I'm not writing novels or video games, I create sourcebooks for tabletop role-playing games. Most of my creations are compatible with old-school versions of Dungeons & Dragons.

One of my favorite projects was the Teratic Tome, a tribute to the Monster Manuals of my childhook. Teratic Tome features about a hundred new monsters, including the Curhadac, a hideous demon that abducts several victims, kills them one by one, and makes art from their corpses (for example, a paintbrush made of bone and hair, a canvas made of skin, and pigments from bodily fluids). One victim is left alive and unharmed; the Curhadac gives the victim the artwork as a gift, and then leaves.

If you could go back in time, where would you go?

I'd head back about 100 million years and check out the Cretaceous. I'd love to see a Spinosaur.

What is your next project?

I'm currently working on a massive new RPG sourcebook (seriously, it'll be two or three times the length of any novel I've written), and I'm also writing a novel about a superheroine trying to defend her city against a terrifying crime wave.

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A Haszard Narrative by Kevin E. Hatt Blitz





Crime, Mystery
Date Published: January 2018

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


After witnessing what transpired to be the murder of a seemingly innocent man, Haszard be-comes yet more intrigued when he hears of a vicar spontaneously combusting in his own church, locked from within. To add fuel to his intrigue, both men were from the same remote country village.

As Haszard begins looking into the matter, he is bombarded with peculiar tales of people connected to the church, and of strange goings-on. Piecing the facts together, Haszard be-comes convinced that he knows what’s been going on, but there is only one choice of action, which is fraught with danger…



Praise for Author Kevin E. Hatt and his Haszard Narratives:

“The recurring detective and his delightful band of cronies lead a sharp, absorbing mystery.” - Kirkus Reviews

“. . . a fun and exciting mystery with just the right amount of dry British humor and ludicrous sensationalism.” - New Apple Literary

“This is truly a spellbinding, entertaining mystery that will have you reading non-stop until you have reached the end!” - Rabia Tanveer, Readers’ Favorite

“Needless to say, there is never a dull moment in a Haszard Narrative.” - Cheryl E. Rodriguez, Readers’ Favorite

“Suspense and twists will keep the reader on the edge of their seat, unable to tear their eyes from the page.” - K.J. Simmill, Readers’ Favorite





Other Books in A Haszard Narrative Series





A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS



Unfortunate in life and unlucky in love, the mysterious Haszard is intrigued by the death of an acquaintance at the local hospital, in which he works. Suspicious about the circumstances, he begins to look into the matter, meeting the woman of his dreams along the way.
After joining forces a local businessman, he speaks to a number of people, discovering irregularities in the life of the murdered woman. As he makes progress, he realises that the key to the matter lies in the dark and murky world of drug dealers, and has to face the possibility that the killer may well be someone he knows . . .

MAPS, LEGENDS AND MISDEMEANOURS



When asked to frame an old map, Haszard discovers that it’s linked to lost valuables from the past. Intrigued, he begins looking into the legend, discovering there to be cryptic clues on the map that must be deciphered. Unfortunately, though, Haszard isn’t the only person interested in the whereabouts of the missing items, and the other contingent resorts to violent tactics, which leads to a chilling climax . . .

PHOENIX FROM THE FLAME



When told by a former colleague that she saw her dead husband walking around a quaint market town, Haszard’s curiosity is engaged. As he begins to look into the matter, he unearths a number of facts that lead him to believe that there’s more to the sighting than merely a dead man walking. Also, there are people who are prepared to kill for something that’s worth a lot of money . . .

THE HEIRLOOM REPOSITORY



Haszard is asked to look for a family’s missing inheritance. Guided by words provided by a medium, he goes about the case with his typical fervour. Side-tracked by other matters, and spooked by a mysterious man in the woods, Haszard soon comes to realise that he isn’t alone in his quest, and persons unknown are not afraid to kill . . .

RACE FOR THE PRIZE



When on holiday with his friends, Haszard sees a girl who went missing a number of weeks previous. Fuelled with his usual determination, he sets about looking into the matter, although all is not as it appears, and it isn’t long before matters become eventful.
Having befriended a local artist, Haszard moves closer to an answer, yet the odds are stacked heavily against him. In order to win through, he must endure his most arduous and perilous challenge yet . . .

NO REASON FOR INSANITY



Intrigued by the bizarre events surrounding the murder of a friend, Haszard is asked by the family to look into the matter. Against the advice of his friends, he begins making enquiries, and is disturbed when he realizes that it may well be someone he knows. As progress is made, further events occur, endangering the life of Haszard and his friends, and he is forced to delve into the deepest recesses of his resourcefulness . . .

FULL CIRCLE



When asked to look into the death of a man in a town known for pagan connections, Haszard quickly makes progress, and it isn’t long before matters become dangerous. With little to work with, Haszard makes progress, yet the task is a daunting one, and not everyone he encounters is friendly.

Collating interesting and significant information from various sources along the way, Haszard has to link factors linked with the past, and as he does so, he realizes that in order to save someone from certain death, he is in a race against time.




The Ambiguity of Guilt



Items discovered in the attic of a new house belonging to a friend of Haszard are intriguing to him, and he sets about looking into the family who lived there previously. His efforts, however, are thwarted by the fact that nobody knew them very well, and he soon discovers that they are nowhere to be found. As he progresses, more discoveries point to the possibility that the family members were master criminals who were diverse in their activities, yet Haszard sees things differently. After speaking to a number of people and encountering persons unknown, who are not afraid to use firearms, he feels convinced that he knows where they are, but is uncertain of the reception he will receive . . .





Excerpt


‘Somewhere just outside Upper Bramsdean, on the Dewton Road.’ I tried opening my door, only it wouldn’t budge. I looked out of the window to see a tree beside me. ‘We’ll have to get out your side. Make sure that you leave the headlights on.’ 
            ‘I’ll make the call first.’ I sat motionless while Sabrina called the emergency services, who as ever wanted her life story before actually sending anyone to help. She placed her phone back in her pocket. ‘Let’s get out.’          
            Gingerly, she opened the door, but due to the angle that we were at, it wouldn’t remain open. In an effort to counteract the problem, she shuffled her legs onto the seat, pushing the door forwards whilst resting her foot on the side of my seat. Struggling against the door she crawled forwards, flopping out onto the muddy ground, cursing as she did so. Finally, she worked herself free, standing and holding the door open for me.     
            Repeating the process that Sabrina had performed, I felt shaky, Sabrina taking my hand and helping me out. ‘Your head’s bleeding,’ she said.     
            ‘I’ll be fine,’ I grumbled, turning away from her. I began making my way up the bank, my feet slipping on the mud that was making it nigh impossible to make progress. Conscious of the fact that Sabrina was in flat-soled shoes, I clung onto a tree in order to help her up, grabbing her hand. The rain, meanwhile, came down in torrents, the sound of the raindrops creating a sinister symphony which reverberated malevolently around us.         
            Little by little, we made our way up the bank, struggling like we’d never struggled before, slipping on the odd occasion, our clothes completely drenched and covered in mud by the time we reached the top of the bank, utterly breathless.         
            We stood in the pouring rain, uncertain of what to do. I looked to the direction the other cars had emerged from, noticing a glow from the other side of the road, fifty or so yards from us. Still confused, I glanced down the bank at Sabrina’s stricken cabriolet. A glow… a glow. I looked back across the road.  
            In the other direction, a couple of hundred yards away, I noticed a set of rear lights. The car was stationary. What was he doing? Had he realised what he’d done and was undecided as to what to do? I moved out further into the road, the car moving away as I approached. I shouted for him to come back, but he just kept going. Typical, I thought, just bloody typical! Cause an accident and run away. It didn’t surprise me because it’s the way the world is. I turned my attention back to the glow I’d seen. 
            ‘Sab, what’s that glow coming from?’          
            ‘I don’t know.’ Looking at Sabrina in the eerie light, I noticed that she was shaking.         
            I placed a reassuring arm around Sabrina, hugging her. ‘We’d better go and see.’  
            We walked towards the source of the glow, the rain somehow becoming heavier. Crossing to the other side of the road, I looked up at the sky, cursing the wretched weather. Nearing the source, I could see that the glow was a light—a car headlight. It just didn’t make sense… I thought back. One set of lights moved across. They must have been forced off the road like us. I began running, glancing back at Sabrina, who was struggling.      
            As I reached the vehicle I could see that it was small—old and small. That model must be over twenty years old, I thought. Being as old as that it wouldn’t have all the safety features that Sabrina’s car had. The front of the car was completely crumpled, having hit a large tree head on. It didn’t look good.     
            There was no bank sloping down on that side of the road, which made reaching it considerably easier. Looking through the window I could see someone slumped forwards. I tried opening the door, but it was locked. I ran around to the other side, only to discover that it too was locked, which left me no choice. I would have to smash a window. I looked around for some kind of rock or stone, moving in front of the headlight as I trawled through the grass and broken twigs that littered the ground, finally finding a fist-sized stone.      
            Sabrina approached me. ‘Haszard, what are you doing?’ That’s my name, by the way. Odd, but not something that you’d forget overnight.         
            ‘Breaking the window. The doors are locked and whoever it is doesn’t look good.’ I moved to the passenger side, drawing my arm back and slinging it forward, releasing the projectile. The window shattered. I put my arm through, searching frantically for the door-lock, which I finally found next to the handle. Why can’t manufacturers decide where the lock should be and put it in the same place on all models? After flicking it I tried the handle, the door opening only a matter of inches. I cursed. The impact had bent the structure of the car. I pulled at it violently, the metal screeching its protest as the door opened another few inches. I pulled again, and again, the door opening a little further each time. After one more gargantuan pull, it opened fully, allowing me access. Without delay I slid alongside the unconscious man… but was he unconscious or dead?           
            ‘Are you all right?’ I said, remembering my life-support training. There was no movement. I didn’t wish to shake him or attempt any painful stimuli to his shoulder in case he had a neck injury, so I tried to ascertain whether he was breathing. I cupped my hand around his nose and mouth, holding it there for several seconds. I could feel breath. Good—that was good. 
            ‘How is he?’ Sabrina said, peering in.           
            ‘Not good, but breathing,’ I said, searching for the interior light, activating it. ‘Oh shit!’   
            ‘What is it?’   
            I moved out of the way, showing Sabrina the state of the driver’s leg. The light wasn’t great, but it was just enough for Sabrina to see the damage. The car had hit the tree with such an impact that the engine must have forced the bulkhead back, crushing the man’s legs, bone protruding through the skin on his left lower leg. ‘He’s got an open fracture. He’s going to need a drip fast, and a fire crew to cut him out of here.’     
            ‘I’ll call the emergency services and tell them to send some cutting equipment, and hurry the ambulance up,’ Sabrina said, shuffling alongside me.          
            Whilst Sabrina made her call, I removed my jacket, placing it over the unconscious man, wondering if there was anything else I could do. I was actually a registered operating theatre practitioner, and Sabrina was a Sister in the orthopaedic clinic of our local hospital; however, without any equipment, we were next to useless!           
            ‘They’re sending a fire crew, and the ambulance should only be a few minutes,’ Sabrina informed me. ‘Oh my God… your head!’   
            ‘What about it?’          
            ‘It’s bleeding.’
            ‘So you said, Miss Jensen. It’s only a bloody scratch!’         
            Sabrina moved my head into the light, examining it circumspectly. ‘It’s more than a scratch! You’re going to need to have it seen to! You’re absolutely covered in blood.’        
            I turned away from her, checking the man’s breathing again. It was still the same, which was a good sign. I felt frustrated at not being able to do anything for him, just sitting there as he potentially ebbed away. He was obviously losing blood, only there was nothing that I could do. Nothing!  
            Sabrina and I said nothing whilst awaiting the arrival of the ambulance. Ordinarily, we never stopped talking, but we were both in a state of shock from our accident and concerned for the wellbeing of the other victim that the lunatic had driven off the road.         
            The moment we saw lights approaching we leaped out of the car, only to discover that it was merely a fellow motorist. Watching them pass, I noticed that the rain had eased off somewhat, not that it was of much use now.         



About the Author




Kevin E. Hatt is a registered anaesthetic and recovery practitioner. He commenced his training in 1984, and rose to the dizzy heights of deputy head. In 2000 he left the medical profession to follow his artistic ideals, but made a complete hash of it and returned to the medical world in 2010.In 2014 he released his first Haszard novel, A Light in the Darkness, which received critical acclaim, and then seven more stand-alone books in the series.He likes cricket, running, fine ales and curry. He has never been to Scunthorpe. Or Ipswich.





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Nadia's Heart by Wendy Altshuler Blitz





YA Fantasy, Horror
Date Published: 11/11/2017

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In Nadia's Heart, Part One, amnesiac Nadia knew that something was wrong, so she went in search of her missing heart. What she encountered has only brought more questions: about her origins and her ties to the people of the Land of Silence. She learned that her heart was indeed removed, and that her memory was erased by an evil Voice. But why?

Now Nadia and her glowing-eyed companion, Georgeonus, must help recover the stolen hearts of the children of the Land of Silence. In Part Two, they will do battle against the evil Voice and travel to frightening places. They receive help from a powerful Witch and Wizard, and Nadia gets her heart back—but it's not at all what she expected. Can they rescue the stolen children's hearts in time?



Excerpt


From Chapter IV: The Silver Witch:

They remembered that her visit had been preceded by a magick dust.

The dust came from above, the air tingled, and miniscule, silver particles glistened as they fell. It was musical, and as they breathed, they smelled fresh air like new spring, and they felt an excitement of imminent magick. She appeared suddenly, and at first no one knew where she had come from or how; she was just there on the road. She came as naturally as if she had approached them from the road. But as the magick dust settled, they realized—remembered—that the Silver Witch had dropped out of the sky.

As she stood there smiling at them, they remembered that they had looked up at the sky at a circling dot which descended. As it approached, it formed the shape of a square, floating quilt. The Witch was soon revealed to be sitting on top in black garb and hat, her silvery skin thick and rubbery. With both hands placed on diagonal corners of the quilt, she jumped off and shook the fabric out like clean laundry and parachuted down to them, the tennis sneakers on her feet ready for the road. Softly she landed, snapping the quilt upward and folding it once, twice, three times, and again and again until it was a small square deposited into one of her pockets.




About the Author




Wendy Altshuler is a writer-producer who explores myth in new media. She writes fantasy novels and creates works in stop motion animation.  Her credits include award-winning screenwriting and WGA-accredited representation. With a degree in psychology and a Master of Arts from Columbia University, Altshuler documented the work of international choreographers and wrote and produced regional programming. Her short plays have been performed at Boston Playwrights' Theatre, at regional schools and most recently, Puppet Showplace Theatre. Altshuler's young adult book series has been hailed as "emotionally moving, uplifting and wholesome," and "spirited and haunting. . .with much symbolism and beauty."



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