Date Published: April 26, 2016
Kensington Publishing/Lyrical Underground
“Masterful, bone-chilling fiction…one intense thriller. A Thousand Yesteryears will keep you guessing, gasping and turning the pages for more.” —New York Times bestselling author Kevin O’Brien
Behind a legend lies the truth…
As a child, Eve Parrish lost her father and her best friend, Maggie Flynn, in a tragic bridge collapse. Fifteen years later, she returns to Point Pleasant to settle her deceased aunt’s estate. Though much has changed about the once thriving river community, the ghost of tragedy still weighs heavily on the town, as do rumors and sightings of the Mothman, a local legend. When Eve uncovers startling information about her aunt’s death, that legend is in danger of becoming all too real…
Caden Flynn is one of the few lucky survivors of the bridge collapse, but blames himself for coercing his younger sister out that night. He’s carried that guilt for fifteen years, unaware of darker currents haunting the town. It isn’t long before Eve’s arrival unravels an old secret—one that places her and Caden in the crosshairs of a deadly killer…
Mae Clair has been chasing myth, monsters and folklore through research and reading since she was a child. In 2013 and 2015, she journeyed to West Virginia to learn more about the legendary Mothman, a creature who factors into her latest release.
Mae pens tales of mystery and suspense with a touch of romance. Married to her high school sweetheart, she lives in Pennsylvania and numbers cats, history and exploring old graveyards among her passions. Look for Mae on her website at MaeClair.net
Date Published: November 2014
“Readers who like to curl up during the long winter evenings and feel the delicious chill of fear running up and down their spines need only turn to The Glade to have all their expectations fulfilled.
Harmony Kent is famous for her laughter, and has made quite the name for herself … she’s also, um, a writer … and fairly well known for that too. She’s even won a few awards. Harmony lives in rural Cornwall with her ever-present sense of humour and quirky neighbours and refuses to admit to her age.
If you catch her at work, you’ll see that she also offers editing, proof reading, manuscript appraisal, and beta reading services. Not to mention being passionate about supporting her fellow authors.
Date Published: March 13, 2015
There is something evil up Bergamot Holler, and it’s been targeting the Hall family for generations.
Patty Hall is fifteen years old. She loves stargazing, science fiction, and all things related to space exploration. This leaves her perfectly prepared for the wrong problem.
Patty is afraid her mother will send her to a care facility if she tells her what she’s seen. If she doesn’t figure things out soon, she’s going to join her father in the Hall family cemetery plot.
Patty has to come to grips with her own physical handicap, survive the wilderness, and face an ancient evil all alone if she’s going to survive.
Will O’ the Wisp is suitable for young adults. It involves strong elements of suspense, and is set in the mid 1970s.
Headlights made their way towards us along the Bergamot Creek trail. “Damn it. I wish people would just stay away.”
Pete looked at them and said, “They’re far enough away we can still watch. Besides, they might not stay once the road ends. Maybe it’s Mrs. Matthews with another one of her boyfriends.”
“That’s gross. I don’t care to see that again.”
“Satellite,” Pete said.
It was no Comet Kahoutek, but we watched it pass overhead and waited for the next one. The car turned out to be a van full of older kids. Three guys and two girls. They built a fire and took out a styrofoam cooler. They looked like students on their way to college somewhere.
I turned my radio off and pushed my lower lip into my upper. “I suppose they’re spending the night.” The sound of their car radio reached our ears.
“So what? We might catch another satellite or a shooting star before we have to go home.”
“Meteor. They aren’t really stars. And now we have light pollution.” I looked up once more and tried to have a good time.
“Holy crap. What’s that?”
I snapped to attention and looked at Pete. He was fixated down toward the campers. A ball of green light, about the size of a softball, drifted along the stream bank. It was darker than the fireflies, more the color of moss, but it glowed in the dark. It lit up the gravel alongside the creek.
“That has to be the king of all fireflies,” Pete said.
“Maybe it’s a cluster.”
It turned and headed our way. Pete crab-crawled away from the light.
The glow got softer. It headed back toward the campfire. It was like it couldn’t make up its mind.
A blond boy with surfer good looks walked away from the fire toward the glowing sphere. He said something to his friends, but I couldn’t hear it over their radio. They all stood and looked. He spread his arms wide then waved the thing toward the campfire like he was calling his dog.
The glowing ball started flickering and moved toward him. It hit his chest and pushed him back. Then it went — it went inside him. He arched rearward, then forward, hit the ground and convulsed.
The girls screamed and ran.
“What the hell was that?” Pete said. “Oh my God! What was it?”
“I don’t know, but one of them’s running this way. Let’s get out of here.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“You’re just going to leave me?”
“This is Burkeford. White girl, black boy, after dark. I don’t want to decorate a tree somewhere by morning. I can’t get caught out here.”
I swooped up Rick’s binoculars and headed for home. The screaming girl was almost to the clearing when I made it into the deep woods. Briars tangled my braces and I fell into the thorns. Someone yelled from the campfire for her to come back. He said something about a hospital.
I lay still in the briars and sucked blood from the back of my hand. The girl fumbled to light a cigarette and took a step toward the van. When she left the clearing, I untangled my braces and found the trail.
I suppose I ought to get a flashlight, but I’ve walked this trail so many times I could do it blindfolded. Stupid Pete. What if there are more of those things?
The forest threatened, menaced even. This was my special place, and all I could think of was getting away. Every trunk became a good place for something to lie in wait. Every rock pile, a den for some monster. I tried to hurry as I picked my way through the rocks and roots along the trail.
What the hell was that thing? The John Glenn book said he saw green stuff swirling around his ship. I’ve never seen anything like it. Never even heard of anything like it. What the hell was that thing?
I picked up my pace once I got to the fence along the field. I needed a bath, and wanted to get indoors. I really wanted to get inside. The fox yapped off to the west, and I thought about my parents.
I slipped in through the back door and headed for the stairs.
“You didn’t stay out long,” Mom said, “and you’re bleeding.”
I shrugged. “Briars. I fell.” I tried to blow it off and keep cool. Rick talked her into letting me go up the ridge. If she thought it was dangerous, she’d never let me go back.
She stood up and picked a twig out of my hair. “I hope you took care of Rick’s binoculars. Those were expensive you know.”
I lifted them over my head. God, she could be annoying. “Right here, Mom. Good as new.” I headed upstairs for my room.
Crap. I’d left my backpack and radio behind. Mom didn’t notice. If I can slip out next time, I’ll just bring it all back then.
Rick was in the bathtub, so I had to wait. I went to my room, took off my braces and picked thorns out of my elbows.
Fireflies don’t attack people. That guy seemed like he invited it to camp and now they’re taking him to the hospital. Maybe he’s dead.
Mom yelled up the stairs. “Patty. Telephone. It’s your friend Petey.”
I headed down. Thank God he got home. There could be dozens of those things out there.
“It’s just Pete now, Mom.” She handed me the phone.
“I just wanted to make sure you got home,” Pete said.
“I’m fine, how are you?” I said it for Mom’s sake, then turned away. “No thanks to you,” I whispered.
“Look, you don’t understand. Your parents are cool and all, but not everyone is. There are people around who’d lynch a black boy for even talking to a white girl. Laura gets it. Why don’t you?”
“I get it, but this is different. Something bad happened out there. I was scared and you left me all alone.”
“I was scared and alone too. I saw monsters behind every tree.”
I smiled. “Me too. Guess we’ll have something to talk about on the bus.”
He chuckled and said, “Yeah, so what was that thing?”
“I have no idea, but I think it’s alien.”
“See you on the bus.”
North American Continent http://a-fwd.com/asin-com=B00UPH6BNS
Rest of the world http://a-fwd.com/asin-com=B00UQNDT2C
I was born in a town called Elko, Nevada. I like to tell everyone I was born in a small town in the 1940s. I’m not quite that old, but Elko has always been a little behind the times. This gives me a unique perspective of earlier times, and other ways of getting by. Some of this bleeds through into my fiction.
I moved to Idaho right after the turn of the century, and never looked back. My writing career was born here, with access to other writers and critique groups I jumped in with both feet.
I like to write about things that have something unusual. My works are in the realm of science fiction, paranormal, and fantasy. The goal is to entertain you for a few hours. I hope you enjoy the ride.
Date Published: April 2, 2016
A cold stone heart breaks more easily than it beats. Than it loves.
Damien was a loyal warrior, killed in battle in 1203. Because of his true heart, he was given the option to pass on to his eternal reward or exist in another state of being as a protector… until the time came when he could resume living the life he’d been cheated of.
A soldier by nature, he chose the latter. And he waited centuries—as a gargoyle—growing increasingly bitter about his choice. Then he sees her.
Rina is a hard worker and loyal friend. She just has the worst luck. One night, after saving her best friend from a violent assault, she finds herself at the attacker’s mercy. Then out of nowhere, a savior comes and rescues her.
With only an angel to guide him, Damien must make the right choices to win Rina’s heart, or be forever damned as a grotesque mockery of the guardian he once was.
Universal Link: https://books2read.com/STlovesetinstone
As goes her reading, so goes her writing. She can’t pick a single genre to focus on, so she doesn’t even try. She’s proud to say she’s a multi-genre author.
When she’s not reading or writing, she’s spending time with family and friends, possibly cooking for them, or maybe enjoying an afternoon in the pool. To learn more about her, visit her website or connect with her on social media.
Date Published: October 18, 2015
My name is Zoe Tempest. Just let me say, I had no intention of becoming a vampire hunter. My world revolved around the trendiest clothes, the boy of the week and shopping. My parents were well-off and indulgent. I was the center of their universe. I’m afraid I took that for granted. My life was as close to perfect as a seventeen year old can get. I had everything. Then my parents were murdered and my world came crashing down.
After their funeral, I went to live with my uncle Julian Kilmer. That’s when everything changed. In a manner more terrifying than anything I could have imagined.
Sandra writes YA Fantasy, Paranormal and Historical Romance, and Metaphysical Nonfiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters and an occasional foster cat. Although shopping is high on the list, her greatest pleasure is sitting on her porch, listening to the birds, sipping coffee or a latte and enjoying a good book. She’s a vegetarian and a Muay Thai enthusiast.
Twitter: @ Sandra_Cox