Tag Archives: paranormal
Cutting the bitch was what my wolf wanted to do, and I couldn’t honestly say that I wasn’t on board with that plan, but I was smart enough to know that I couldn’t take on eight werewolves on my own. I would have to find their hideout and come back with my pack. Bringing Phoenix and his clan to watch my back in case any of my wolves were really on Jessica’s side was a smart thing to do, so I would let them come, too, not that I would really get a choice in the matter; I doubted he would stay behind even if I begged him to.
A loud clatter had my head whipping around to look behind me again. An aluminum trash can lay on its side, its contents spilling into the street. A tabby cat peeked around the edge of the torn trash bag and I exhaled in relief. I was a sad case, indeed. I laughed at myself. I was not used to being the monster.
“I aim to change that, Mena.”
I rolled my eyes at my wolf. “You just be you and let me be me and we’ll get along just fine.”
Soft laughter filled my head and I had to smile. I had to admit that I liked her, regardless of how much trouble she was causing me with Phoenix. At least we had come to a compromise. I didn’t know how well said compromise was going to work out, or even if it would at all, but I was willing to try. Everyone deserved a shot at happiness, even with as insane as our case may be.
As I turned my head back around to continue on my journey, I ran smack-dab into the hard chest of a man. He was in shadow, so I couldn’t see his face. Stumbling back, I attempted to get my balance, but his arms closed tightly around my body, jerking me to him and trapping my arms down at my sides so I couldn’t move.
Struggling against his solid hold on me, I opened my mouth to let out a scream, but he twisted me around and clamped a hand over my mouth so fast that I didn’t know what was happening until I was being pulled backward, away from the security of the streetlights that lined the suburban road.
I raised my knee up then brought my foot down hard on the toe of his shoe. He let out a muffled grunt, but continued to drag me into the shadows.
This had to be one of the werewolves. The strength alone told me that. They had to have been watching my house, just waiting for me to leave. This bastard was going to kill me if I didn’t do something.
My wolf stirred under my skin. She wanted out and it was the first time since I’d been bitten that I agreed with that plan. With only a little more than human strength and quick reflexes, it wasn’t possible for me to handle a grown male werewolf on my own.
My final option, before letting my wolf free, was try to at least injure him. I hoped that would be enough to make him loosen his grip on me enough so I could run. If he gave chase, I would have to concede and let my wolf take over.
Gripping the dagger tighter in my palm, I rotated my wrist and drove the blade into his side as hard as I could. An ear-piercing ululation erupted from his throat and he let go of me. I didn’t wait or look back. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, adrenaline and my wolf giving me the speed and strength to push my muscles past what a human would be able to endure.
“Mena… Mena!” I heard the cry behind me, but my mind wasn’t registering anything except panic and the need to get as far away from my attacker as possible. “Mena—wait! It’s me…” A strangled groan had me slowing. “…it’s… it’s Phoenix. I—I’m so sorry, Mena.”
I froze, not wanting to look back at the man, terrified that what he’d spoken was true. If it was—if I turned and saw those ice-blue eyes staring back at me, it would destroy any trust I had ever had in him.
“Please, Mena, I never meant to hurt you. I was only trying to scare you so you would realize what a stupid stunt going off on your own to find the killers was. What were you thinking?”
The blood rushed through my veins at an impossible speed, and fury washed over me in waves as I stood there trying to decide whether to walk away or allow my wolf to rip Phoenix’s head off. She was all for the second option.
I heard him cough, and then groan in agony. I imagined he was pulling the dagger out of whatever organ I had been lucky enough to hit. There was a lot of heavy, ragged breathing and two more guttural-sounding coughs. It appeared as though I had hit a lung. Too bad it wasn’t his heart! I wasn’t sure stabbing him in the heart with a silver blade would kill him, but I would have put money on a bet that it would have been a hell of a lot more painful.
I turned my head to glare at him, but the hatred I had expected to feel wasn’t there. He had fallen to his knees, and his head was bent, his eyes focused on the bright red stain spreading across his new shirt.
Shaking my head, I looked up to the sky and asked, “Why me?” After receiving no answer, I sighed and began the one-hundred-meter walk back to Phoenix.
Dear friends, please help me spread the word and support an author whose life has been turned upside-down. I don’t know Brandon Hale personally, but I know I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now, battling cancer.
The Bitten is a collection of short stories about vampires and werewolves, written by a number of successful authors who banded together to help Brandon. The proceeds from its sales go to Brandon Hale. Have a look at his other books here and please, please help out in whichever way you can.
Already, the rankings are showing this anthology’s value:
#59 in Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Genre Fiction > Anthologies
#67 in Books > Literature & Fiction > Anthologies & Literary Collections > General
#71 in Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Anthologies & Literature Collections
If you haven’t read this book yet, what’s keeping you? Such a breath of fresh air! Brilliant read, from the first page to the last.
Written in a very original voice, this novel is full of unexpected surprises. The characters are beautiful people, not perfect, yet still able to show so much love towards each other. The plot is chock-full of twists and turns. The concept – pure genius! A seer who gets on the wrong side of a ghost is not a new idea, but the way the story unfolds is unique. The action is non-stop. Dynamic, suspenseful, thrilling. Dialogues – natural and unforced, and so witty you won’t stop laughing.
The story of Nolan and Harley is not a funny one by any means, nor is it a drama. Regardless, this novel packs so many life lessons, so much wisdom and truth. Loved every word of it. The Irish and Scottish inflections are accentuated phonetically, and it was funny to read some of the dialogue aloud. Again, playing on the stereotypes proved to be a wonderful way to bring some extra fun to the more intense, suspenseful scenes.
As for the finale… Boy, does this author know how to build up a happy ending! Brilliant! Absolutely fantastic. Couldn’t have been improved in any way.
All in all, a very well-written book, which has given me hours of entertainment (and not only because I’ve recently moved to Ireland), To Have & To Haunt is well-deserving of five stars. Wholeheartedly recommend it.
November in New York is cold but full of possibility for college freshman Erin Harris. When her twin brother, Nick, shows up on her doorstep for a surprise visit, Erin is delighted. Unfortunately, Nick’s arrival coincides with the discovery of a body outside her apartment building, a body drained of blood. Right away, Nick assumes vampires are involved. He’s not exactly their biggest fan since Erin dated one in high school.
Juggling nosy roommates, a first date with a gorgeous guy from college and a brother on a Van Helsing kick is enough to keep any nineteen year old girl busy – And then Erin’s old flame walks back into her life.
Is Erin destined to be caught up in supernatural shenanigans, or will she choose a different path?
(45,000 word novella)
Nick and Erin kept a lookout for anyone of the supernatural persuasion, a difficult task since Erin doubted vampires went clubbing with the words I want your blood printed on their shirts. What had James and his maker in common? Agility, gracefulness, a predatory sway. It should be simple to spot one. Yeah right!
They had zero proof the vampire or vampires responsible for both deaths even frequented the place, if it’s even vampires, she reminded herself. But if the cops were interested in the club, then it was the only lead Erin and Nick had.
“If we do see a vampire, what next?” Erin asked.
“We follow him.”
“And then what? Ask if they’d like a bloody beverage? A diet Coke with a splash of O Negative?
“We kill them.”
“Oh, of course. Because we both know how easy that is … And how exactly do we do it, oh intelligent one?” Erin spoke as low as she could over the tuneless house music. “Do you have a stake handy?”
“What? Are you crazy?”
Nick unzipped his coat and pointed at his inside pocket. Erin checked to see if anyone was looking before she did a quick search. Something long, wooden and narrow. A stick.
What the hell?
“I made it a while back. Just in case.”
“Just in case,” Erin parroted. “Just what exactly have you been up to in Boston?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Van Helsing, but I wasn’t aware my brother had become a vampire hunter.”
“Can we talk about this later?”
“You talk about it later. I’m going to the bar.”
Before Nick could protest, Erin stormed off. She hadn’t known Nick to keep a secret from her, ever. But not only had he been carrying out research of the supernatural persuasion behind her back, here he was walking around with a homemade stake in his pocket, hell bent on some stupid vampire hunting mission.
Erin berated herself for coming to the club. If she and Nick came up against a vampire, the odds were not in their favor. Once again, the question came unbidden. Where are you, James?
Emma Meade lives in rainy Ireland. She loves vampires, slayers, witches, ghosts, aliens & shadow men (or at least the youngest of the Shadow Men), and regular people who live extraordinary lives (think Slayerettes and you’re on the right track). Books, DVDS & TV show boxsets take up lots of space in her home, and she collects all the Point Horror books she can get her hands on. Writing supernatural stories and watching marathon re-runs of Buffy are some of her favourite ways of escaping reality.
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He shoved another armload full of socks and t-shirts on top of jeans in a duffel bag, then turned to walk to the bathroom to retrieve personal hygiene items. He barely glanced up to acknowledge Isaiah, arms crossed over his chest in a comfortable stance, leaning on the doorjamb.“Going somewhere?” Isaiah asked coolly.“As far away from here as I can get,” he responded from the darkened bathroom.“You do know there is a meeting about to begin downstairs, right?”Thoros nodded once as he re-entered the bedchamber, not bothering to look at the archangel. He tossed the items in the duffle with the rest of the things he would need for his extended journey. “I am aware of the meeting. I am also aware that she does not want or need me there.” He looked left then right, and then paused only another brief moment before zipping the bag closed and tossing it over his right shoulder.Thoros meant to walk through the doorway, but Isaiah stood upright and blocked the only exit with his body. Well, there was always the window. He thought about turning and diving through the glass and wondered briefly if he would clear the cement and land in the water of the underground swimming pool. The cement would hurt like a bitch. Hell, who was he kidding? The damn glass would hurt! He knew fleeting wasn’t an option. The angel would have already put a halt on that shit.Letting the pack fall to the floor, Thoros rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and huffed. “Out of my way, old man. She made it clear she doesn’t want me. If you didn’t hear her, I can give you a recap: it was a whole lot of ‘get lost’.”“Old man? I’ll have you know I look younger than you. Especially as of late. You should exfoliate more, and moisturize.”“You knew what I meant.”“That I am thousands of years old? Yes,” Isaiah nodded as his lips pursed together. “I am that. That also means I probably have a lot of wisdom, and listening to me would more than likely be in your best interest.”“Listening to you has done nothing but piss me off, angel.”“You have to go with her. You have to know that it is difficult for her to trust you when she has thought all along that you’ve betrayed her.”Thoros’ jaw locked down tight and he spoke through his teeth as anger burst from the depths of his half-soul. “Yeah, and whose fault was that? You could have told her at any time in the three months we’ve spent apart that I was the one who saved her. That I am the one she is destined to be with. But no, instead, you were a coward who let her dream day and night about going in search of the lost angel, a male fate never intended her to be with!”Isaiah moved out of the way to let him pass and Thoros jumped at the chance, grabbing his duffle and rushing through the doorway. “I see. You are just going to take the easy way out? Never look back? Never see her again?”“Oh, I’ll see her again,” he said, but didn’t bother slowing down or looking at the archangel. “I’ll see her every time I close my eyes.”“She deserves for you to give her time, Thoros. If you truly love her, then you must know that walking away is not the answer to your problems.”Thoros froze as his boot landed on the third step from the bottom of the grand staircase. Love. He allowed himself a moment to think about that word. His skin flushed hot and his foot slipped to the next step, causing him to lose his balance and having to reach out for the banister to steady himself. He believed she was his soulmate and that he wanted to be with her—but love? No. Love? Never. He had never been in love before.Was this what this horrible feeling was? And what happened if the one you allowed yourself to fall in love with didn’t love you back? What the hell happens then?Right. Broken heart. That’s what the horrible feeling was. Fan-fucking-tastic! He had never expected to experience it before, but he never imagined it would actually hurt. He rubbed at the center of his chest and fought the hot sting of tears that filled his eyes. He looked around him, all of a sudden dizzy. Wiping at the sheen of sweat that had broken on his brow, Thoros swallowed hard and concentrated on calming the erratic beating of his heart.“Do not give up on her. Your time will come, son.”He turned around and looked to the top of the stairs at Isaiah, blinking the angel into focus. “And what if it never does?” he whispered around the lump in his throat.“You will know you tried and will never have any regrets where she is concerned.”“I already have regrets where Josselyn is concerned. I regret ever having met her.”Thoros turned and stumbled down the remaining steps, and then crossed the foyer and opened the front door.“It’s for the best.”
Isaiah didn’t respond to his thought, so he took a step over the threshold and closed the door gently behind him.