Penniless Hearts by Eve Gaal

Book will be on sale from the 29th through the 4th so hurry and get your copy tomorrow! 

by

Eve Gaal

It’s almost Christmas and Penny is not at her desk. The graphic artist abandons her responsibilities and dashes off to Hawaii with a good-looking pilot. Her father, boyfriend and the people at work are wondering what happened, and before they can say Aloha, trouble is brewing faster than Kona coffee. 

Meanwhile, Penny is mistaken for a goddess - and not just any goddess, but Pele - the fearless goddess of fire. Will she see the resemblance in time to get out of a dangerous situation so she can return safely to everyone’s heart?

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About Evil

Carole Gill

Evil is evil. If a human being is evil, then this is what the soul looks like. But what about the entire cycle of human life and after? That's at the core of some of the stories in this collection. For example: What happens to a serial killer when he dies?  If there is something else after this life, I wonder if all of his victims wait for him on the other side.

Are their parents there? Each time he killed, there was a ripple effect. That's how it is. Evil. In this case, human evil. That's one story.

And what about a weird little boy no one liked, especially his mother. Was he doing something in secret that was indicative of a monstrous mentality just getting started? That's another story.

Then there's this: the greatest evil in my opinion, the one that completely corrupted the 20th century, the effects of which are still being felt today--that's the basis of another story. Probably my favorite.

There's more too, much more. I didn't forget traditional monsters. They're all There and they're waiting...!

¬*¬

There is no doubt that she soars above the endless parade of independent horror authors to shine as a true star in the darkness. With the brilliant anthology House of Horrors she proves why she is a perennial favorite. To put it simply, this is a great assembly of tales anyone would be proud to have in their collection.

Joshua Skye

DARK MEDIA 

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Shadow People Book Tour

About the Book

Title: Shadow People

Author: Alec John Belle

Genre: Young Adult Paranormal

Heather Hawkins, a newly changed Monster Hunter, thought life couldn't get any more complicated after the incident at the tower one week ago. With Kadin gone, she thinks life will finally go back to the way it should be. Until The Council calls a meeting for her and Hayden to discuss the incident. Hayden Williams is released from the hospital and wants to put all of the things he saw that night to the back of his mind. When The Council decides to meet with him, his hope is that he can get it done and over with so he can finally move on with his life. That doesn't happen when he realizes his family has a big secret; one that he is very much a part of. Other forces against the Monster Hunters have different plans. Heather, Hayden, and their friends start unraveling the truth about the world they live in, and dangers are lurking in the shadows. A danger that could lead them all to their demise. In the second book in this paranormal young adult series, secrets will be revealed, and enemies will join hands, leaving you with an ending that no one could see coming.

Excerpt

He lunged at me faster than I could blink, and sure enough, I was knocked to the floor as he smashed my face in. Yeah, that was going to hurt in the morning. Trying my best to regain my strength, I flipped my attacker over on his back and he smiled up at me.

Madame Lilly will have her revenge this night no matter the price

Chapter 1 
Excerpt

Madame Lilly, true birth name Odara, had claimed the two live bodies she needed to complete the sacrificial ritual. Beads of sweat dripped down her back as she moved in the summer’s heat, causing her white dress to cling to her since she was without a corset. Tonight she needed to move freely.

     The New Orleans heat was always hot and muggy but it was even worse when dancing next to a pit of fire: the only light there was deep in the woods that night. She allowed her body to be swayed by the beat of the drums that her followers pounded; taking hold of her, opening herself up to the unknown place between the spiritual and the physical worlds.

     She performed the sacrament where no one would be able to see or hear them; not that anyone came around these parts to visit, or even dared enter her land. In the past six months, Lilly had become notorious as a voodoo priestess and even if you didn’t know her personally, you knew of her. She was powerful, even more powerful than she was aware.

      The woman sacrifice, Dalila, had been crying ever since she had woken up with her legs and arms sprawled, bound by vines tied to four trees. Now kneeling next to her, Lilly jabbed the knife callously into the woman’s side and realized they had similar features. This woman could easily be her sister, right down to the eyes, which were a rare color.

      She watched the tears fall from Dalila’s eyes as she slowly slid the knife up her side. One of Lilly’s followers held Dalila still as she continued to slice. Even though she couldn’t free herself, Lilly didn’t want to kill her; she still needed her alive for the possession. Watching the gush of blood flow down her victim’s side, Lilly captured most of it in the blessed bowl: The bowl she would drink from later.

      Then she did the same to the other sacrifice, Bron, the silly boy she’d been able to lure away with the promise of getting Dalila out of the house for him.

      Lilly stood back up, chanting, not caring as the sacrifices yanked at their restraints, struggling under the vines’ grasp. Having braided the vines herself, she knew they could take the constant onslaught. In actuality Lilly liked the fact that they still had fight in them. Something about that made it even better.

      That was her condemned soul talking, the soul she had lost a long time ago. What some folks called a better way of living, she called hell. She’d never wanted it, any of it. She’d never asked to be any man’s property nor to do what that man in that big house made her do. Over the years she too had learned to enjoy seeing others suffer, especially the man who had made her what she had become. Damned.

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Stay tuned for more excerpts

When the truth she knew was a lie

Excerpt

A Do Not Disturb sign hung from the door handle. Cute. I walked in to waste more time and see how they decorated this room. The walls covered with wallpaper were of different sports memorabilia. It seemed like a typical boy’s room with trophies, sports equipment, and toy model airplanes hanging from the ceiling.

Wait a minute. I looked back at the trophies, checking the nameplates; they didn’t have names on any of them.

I heard a scraping noise by the hallway, so I quickly turned around but, once again, saw nothing. Either I’m losing my mind or just paranoid. At least that’s what I thought until I noticed the Do Not Disturb sign swinging back and forth from the doorknob.

Someone is in this house with us, worse yet, in this room with me now. I heard nothing nor did I see anyone, but I sensed it, and it was not a welcoming feeling.

I had my hands up, braced for anything that came at me. I slowly eased my way back across the room, my back close to the wall, inching toward the door, breath on hold. As soon as both feet touched the hallway, the door slammed shut behind me, and all the lights in the house died.

Where Available

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Madness, Child Abuse and Murder! The House on Blackstone Moor

Carole Gill

The first in The Blackstone Vampires Series. Step inside and see how the nightmare began:

"They say my father was mad, so corrupted by evil and tainted with sin that he did what he did. I came home to find them all dead; their throats had been savagely cut.

My sisters, only five and eight, were gone, as well as my brother who was twelve. My mother too lay butchered in her marriage bed. The bed her children were born in.

I discovered him first—in the sitting room lying in a sea of crimson, the bloody razor still clutched in his hand. How pitiful I must have looked, bent down trying to wake him. Calling to him over and over, “Papa please, please wake up!”

He could not, of course, waken. No more was he to open his eyes in this world—had I not been struck mad, I would have realized. Yet, madness is sometimes a mercy when shadows come to take the horror away.

Do not pull away in terror, please. I have much to confess. Just be patient, for I promise I will tell you everything. The only thing I ask in return is for you not to judge me until you hear my entire story..."

(end of excerpt)

***

eFestival of Words 2014: Best Villain, Eco/ Best Horror, The House on Blackstone Moor

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"The figure of the gothic child was there. Stoker's horror was there. Along with the romance! At the heart of her writing one stumbles upon a genuine search for that darkness we lost with the loss of Stoker." 

DR. MARGARITA GEORGIEVA ~ Gothic Readings in The Dark

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Top 10 Books - 2013

Aoife Marie Sheridan - ALL THINGS FANTASY

Publisher, Ultimate Fantasy Books 

'

"92 Horror authors you need to read right now"

Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series

~Charlotte Books - EXAMINER

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I for one found this gloriously gothic, refreshingly brutal, honestly horrific and a great read. 

~Taliesin Meets the Vampires

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Meeting the Vampire Prince of Paris

Carole Gill

What does it feel like to pass into the blood? Justine goes from death to undeath because love will not let her die.

"I opened my mouth to receive his blood and become what he wished me to be. What it was my destiny to become— a Vampire, a blood-imbibing creature of the night, a cursed being condemned to feed like the Vampire bat. I would call shadows home, along with night. Sun would become my enemy. I had visions of people I neither knew nor recognized. They weren't my memories, of that I was certain.

“The things you see come from my living life for it is my blood you drink.” I tried to understand but it was so difficult. Something struck me. It felt like a hard stinging slap, but I did not cry out. I heard the sound of another slap and the cry of a woman following it. Scuffling accompanied those sounds, as well as a warning: “Leave her alone or I will tear you apart.”

***

This is an expansive tale of vampires and their passion, travelling across continents and centuries, travelling across continents and centuries.

"Top of its genre!"

An epic vampire journey from poverty to palaces, to embrace death in all its blood glory full of lust, passion, betrayal and finally love.

JUSTINE: INTO THE BLOOD 
PURCHASE HERE.

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Book 1 in the Blood & Passion Series

The Torment of Rachel Ames Book Tour

About the Book

Title: The Torment of Rachel Ames

Author: Jeff Gunhus

Genre: Thriller / Horror

Suffering from writer's block, novelist Rachel Ames escapes to a lake cabin to calm her mind and regain a sense of herself. The location is perfect. Isolated. Beautiful. Inspiring. It even comes with a good-looking landlord who shows an interest in her. But she can't shake the sense that something terrible has followed her to the lake, something just beyond her consciousness, something out on the edge where the sounds of a raging fire and sirens linger whenever she slows down to listen. Determined to make the cabin work, she tries to settle in and give her new life a chance. But when strange things begin to happen around her, she wonders if she's made a terrible mistake. As the darkness that's followed her manifests itself in inexplicable ways, her concept of reality is stretched thin and she realizes nothing at the lake is what it seems. As she fights to survive with her sanity intact, she understands too late that the location she's chosen for herself is far from perfect.

Author Bio 

Jeff Gunhus is the author of thriller and horror novels for adults and the middle grade/YA series, The Jack Templar Chronicles. The first book, Jack Templar Monster Hunter, was written in an effort to get his reluctant reader eleven-year old son excited about reading. It worked and a new series was born. His books for adults have reached the Top 100 on Amazon and have been Foreword Reviews Book of the Year Finalists and Gold Medal Winners.

After his experience with his son, he is passionate about helping parents reach young reluctant readers and is active in child literacy issues. As a father of five, he leads an active lifestyle in Maryland with his wife Nicole by trying to constantly keep up with their kids. In rare moments of quiet, he can be found in the back of the City Dock Cafe in Annapolis working on his next novel.

Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Torment-Rachel-Ames-Jeff-Gunhus-ebook/dp/B015545GBI/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26308383-the-torment-of-rachel-ames?from_search=true&search_version=service

Author Site: www.Jeffgunhus.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/jeffgunhusauthor

Twitter: @jeffgunhus

Book Excerpt

Rachel wakes just as the sun begins to set behind the mountains on the far side of the lake. She’s up with a start, a disoriented jump from the darkness of sleep into the flesh and blood reality of the world. There’s a panicked gasp of air as she pushes away a heavy weight smothering her.

But there’s nothing there. Only a faint echo of a dream that she senses was brilliant Technicolor only seconds earlier, but now disintegrates wherever she tries to grasp it. All that’s left of the dream is the smell of the world burning, lingering strongly enough that she searches the room for signs of smoke, thinking her dream world had stolen the idea from the real. But there is nothing. Only the couch where she napped, the dining table where Underwood smirks at her, still unused, and the kitchen, as equally ignored as the typewriter. No smoke. No fire. It’s no matter because all thoughts of either drift away with the rest of her forgotten dream and she lets it happen. There’s no fight in her to remember. She didn’t come to the cabin to remember, anyway.

Connor - Her world was not what she knew it to be.

Excerpt
Trapped in the basement:

     “Where’s Scott?” I asked.

     “Over here, guys,” Scott yelled from behind the wall of the mounted deer heads. Cheyenne and I exchanged looks wondering how he got behind there. We followed the wall until we saw a curtain in front of the bookshelf stairwell, leading to an adjoining room.

     I was in so much awe over the bookshelf, I hadn’t noticed the curtain. The room only had a sink and a bookshelf that he was trying to move out of the way.

     “What are you doing?” Cheyenne asked.

     “Look,” he pointed to the floor. “There is a faint light coming from behind the shelf. If I can just get to it . . .” He grunted as he pushed on it. It must have stood twelve feet tall and weighed a ton.

     He managed to shove this humongous thing out of the way, and sure enough, there was a handle. It didn’t look like a door at first glance, but there it was.

     “Good eyes, Scott. A way out,” I said. Things were finally looking up.

     “I told you, guys, we needed to check out the noise,” I said, relieved the so-called trap turned out to be exactly what we needed.

     “And I told you that I would take care of this,” Scott said.

     Cheyenne actually smiled. I didn’t know she could do that. I almost went into shock when she ran up to hug Scott, but even more mind-blowing, he let her.

     Her smile was short-lived because things turned for the worse before we knew what was happening. First, I saw the expression on her face twist from happiness to sheer horror in a second, then I heard it, and without turning around, I knew this was going to be bad.

      The next few minutes seemed like they were a blur. Cheyenne was still in Scott’s arms, facing the opposite direction of us, staring right at it. As I was turning around, Cheyenne slowly let go of Scott who, at the same time, reached for the door. I don’t even think he knew what was about to happen.

     From my side view, I managed to see a glimpse of darkness before it tossed me across the room, slamming me into the sidewall. I heard Scott yell as he flew clear into the other room, slamming into the bookshelf, breaking it on impact. I don’t know how many books fell on top of him. All I knew was what I heard, and I didn’t hear him move.

     I slowly got up to see where it was. Time no longer slowed when I saw Cheyenne suspended in midair inside a cloud of darkness. She kept grabbing at her throat and trying to cough. Her eyes flooded with tears as it suffocated her.

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DRACULA HAD A FOURTH BRIDE. DID YOU KNOW?

by

Carole Gill

THIS IS THE STORY OF DRACULA AND HIS BRIDES. IT TELLS OF DRACULA'S LIVING LIFE AND HIS IMMORTAL ENEMY. IT IS A STORY OF EROTIC LOVE AND IS RECOMMENDED FOR MATURE READERS. 

99 cents NOV 30 - DEC. 6

Although it is book 4 in The Blackstone Vampires Series, it can be read as a stand alone. It is recommended for mature readers. 

EXCERPT:

"We left the castle in the light of a full moon. I moved faster than I ever had before. In a moment it seemed I went from the castle grounds to the edge of the forest. How magical it felt. The great height of the mountain was meaningless when vampire prowess is involved. If I flew, Dracula did as well, soaring even more quickly in his bat form.

Just as we reached the base of the mountain, I slowed down so that I merely floated. It was a strange feeling but a pleasant one. If I thought we’d feed on wildlife Dracula did not. He said we were bound for a village.

“The village is not far,” he said. “But we must be careful for we will not have the aid of the Szgany here.”

That had a great many implications all of them serious. Still, we were not deterred. In fact we were exhilarated, for there is pleasure in the hunt, an indescribable thrill in the stalking.

We came at last upon a small village. There were but a few white washed cottages and an inn. The inn drew our attention for it was full of chatter. The people sounded merry; possibly the worse for drink.

I was excited. Their perceived vulnerability was like an aphrodisiac. I wondered where we would lie in wait, but then Dracula gestured toward a small courtyard. It was good for our purpose, bathed as it was in dark, shadowy depths. I crept into a space to await my bounty.

"Micco, Anguta's Reign" Free for a limited time

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Chapter 1

Micco jolted awake; his lids half-closed as he attempted to rouse himself. He lay still, trying to remember last night’s events but they were lost to him. As his eyes opened, he was greeted with darkness. Tiny sparkles with hints of light floated around him.

The glow was shining through, past something. It was hard to make out exactly what. His eyes hurt when he attempted to stare at the brightness, so he closed them. Initially, they burned but this eventually subsided, allowing Micco to relax.

In an effort to sit up, heaviness weighed upon him. It vexed him. With closed lids, he tried again, this time prevailing, forcing through his restriction.

He felt his mind was floating through a haze. His body ached as he moved, so he laid back down, allowing a warm breeze to sweep across his face. He welcomed it, though was still not fully aware of his state.

Once his senses came alive, a strong, sour and putrefied odor caught his attention. It was somewhat metallic. He opened his eyes, but flinched against the burn. His head wrenched to the side, trying to find the assaulter. In doing so, something stiff brushed against his face.

A hand.

His breath contracted slowly. He scanned the surroundings more vigorously only to find not only a hand but several body parts touching him, lying next to him, covering his lower extremities. In a moment of panic he became paralyzed; fear caught hold. But the desperation of escape overpowered this gruesome shock. He eased through tangled limbs, inching beyond the lifeless burden. He scampered as far away as possible, climbing over a sheet of bodies, slipping on eviscerated tissue and cold, wet blood.

Shaken, he fell against a nearby wall to examine the array of strewn bodies that lay within pools of bright red liquid, as if time had stopped. For him, time had indeed stopped. There were more than twenty bodies in his presence, their eyes locking on nothing because they were dead. All of them.

It was a massacre.

The only immediate movement was the curtain flapping in the wind from a shattered window. A lonely arm claimed what was left of the glass, letting flies in to settle upon the cold corpses. A chill ran up his spine from untainted fright as his breathing labored. Who are these people? How did I get here?

A sharp twinge shot across his shirtless chest that was adorned with only scratches. They appeared to be claw marks in the middle of his torso. Saliva struggled to travel down his throat as he swallowed hard in disbelief. Instinctively he touched the slashes, then noticed caked blood on his abdomen and hands. Reaching for his face, he felt layers of the same.

He was mortified, sickened. He had seen blood many times but not like this. Before today, he had never been covered in it. He wanted to vomit, but a car sounded in the distance, stifling that need. He maneuvered around the bodies to peer out of the window. A teen boy was walking towards the door. He stepped back, tripping over a leg. He scampered up, trying not to make noise.

How do I get out?

NO HAVEN FOR UNWED MOTHERS 99 cents!

CAROLE GILL

From Unholy Testament - Full Circle, confessions of a demon. This, about acquiring illegitimate children for devil rites. The ruse was there existed a haven for young women in trouble.

PROMO BEGINS NOV. 24 - NOV 30. 99 CENTS!

From Eco's journal:

"And so the message went out: “Make your way to London town and then cross the river to Southwark. Go up from the banks near the George Inn on Borough Street, there you will find a haven and good folk to help you in your hour of need! Do not fear, young miss, for these are fine people. Your cherished babe will go to good Christian folk who will raise your dear little one and give it a good home.”

Yes, Rose, they came—the poor, the not so poor; some were ugly, others were beautiful; many were in the first bloom of youth or already past it. They were, however, all united by desperate circumstances.

Eve never pressed them about their individual stories, but if there was some sort of confession, she would hear the pathetic stories from those who chose to unburden themselves as to how they had strayed.

A confession is good for the soul and though we had none, they had, and so they were comforted.

She’d show them to a room, not much more than a cupboard. But they were grateful, and as for the occasional shrieks they heard coming from other rooms and dens within our tainted dwelling, Eve would advise them not to mind the noise.

“They are just happy drunken folk who cannot hold their liquor. Alas, we need our business in order to care for women such as you…”

She’d implore them to be forgiving. They all were; the lost usually are.

So there you have it. What a picture it makes…desperate women giving birth and our vile activities—orgiastic feasting and feeding along with intense copulation—all under the same roof. How wretched.

As for the girls, some of them barely made it to our door. Many gave birth as soon as they stepped inside.

And so the babies were taken. None of them were nursed or even looked upon. Well, perhaps just a glance if the mother pleaded and wept.

“Yes, dear, there you go. We have a wet nurse who shall take your precious little love now. The family arrives tomorrow…”

The mothers, too defeatist even to protest, would go on their way, some to live, others to happily fall into Father Thames for they could not live with their decision.

We did actually have wet nurses. These were drunken and diseased trollops who often gave their milk away for a drink while their own baby perished one way or another.

The Beast of Barcroft Book Tour

About the Book

Title: The Beast of Barcroft

Author: Bill Schweigart

Genre: Urban Fantasy / Horror

Fans of Stephen King and Bentley Little will devour The Beast of Barcroft, Bill Schweigart’s brilliant new vision of dark suburban horror. Ben thought he had the neighbor from hell. He didn’t know how right he was. . . .

Ben McKelvie believes he’s moving up in the world when he and his fiancée buy a house in the cushy Washington, D.C., suburb of Barcroft. Instead, he’s moving down—way down—thanks to Madeleine Roux, the crazy neighbor whose vermin-infested property is a permanent eyesore and looming hazard to public health.

First, Ben’s fiancée leaves him; then, his dog dies, apparently killed by a predator drawn into Barcroft by Madeleine’s noxious menagerie. But the worst is yet to come for Ben, for he’s not dealing with any ordinary wild animal. This killer is something much, much worse. Something that couldn’t possibly exist—in this world.

Now, as a devilish creature stalks the locals, Ben resolves to take action. With some grudging assistance from a curator at the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and the crackpot theories of a self-styled cryptozoologist, he discovers the sinister truth behind the attacks, but knowing the Beast of Barcroft and stopping it are two different animals.

Author Bio

Bill Schweigart is a former Coast Guard officer who has drawn from his experiences at sea to write the taut nautical thriller, Slipping The Cable. Schweigart's debut is a modern entry to the rich tradition of the sea novel: everyone is confined aboard ship, tensions run high, and the setting itself is deadly, but not nearly as deadly as his characters. If you have ever suffered an impossible boss, ever wanted to fall off the grid and start over fresh, or just wanted to lose yourself in a high seas and high stakes adventure, Slipping The Cable is a must read. Schweigart lives in Arlington, VA, where he is currently finishing his second novel, a supernatural thriller set in the shadow of Washington, DC.

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http://www.billschweigart.com/

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iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-beast-of-barcroft/id1010153936?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/nl-NL/ebook/the-beast-of-barcroft

99 CENTS FRIDAY - WEDNESDAY! THE HOUSE ON BLACKSTONE MOOR!

Pity, the new governess has no idea what is waiting for her at Blackstone House. 

"Unimaginable horror awaits you in The House on Blackstone Moor...

Rose Baines' journey into the dark begins with the murders of her family by her insane, incestuous father. Evil has found a way in, as has the world of the undead. Will she become one of them?

The horrific discovery causes her to be incarcerated in two madhouses. Doctor Bannion, superintendent of Marsh Asylum, helps his favorite patient obtain a position as governess at Blackstone House, but why is he so adamant? The house, her charges tell her, is built on haunted moorland. Nothing is as it seems for Blackstone House, and its inhabitants have hideous secrets; the greatest secret of all is that of the blood.

Concrete Stilettos: A Love Story

About the Book

Title: Concrete Stilettos

Author: Mya Kay

Genre: Urban Romance / YA

Mya Kay’s Concrete Stilettos: A Love Story, is a fierce, urban romance that will leave the people in the pews and the parlor screaming for more.

She’s as real as they come and as hard as they make them. And her heart still belongs to God…

Seventeen-year-old Taz Elizabeth Green is every man’s fantasy, every girl’s women crush and the envy of many of the women she strips with in Philadelphia. But she’s not your average stripper. A virgin whose parents were murdered when she was 12, Taz only dances because she truly loves it – not because she’s broke and hungry. Not one to make an excuse or take part in self-pity, she wiggles her way into private parties for politicians and police officers, adding to the stash her parents left her. Even the Grady’s, the family that adopted her when her parents were murdered, have no idea the double life Taz is living. They sent her off at sixteen to UCLA, a genius that had been skipped twice in school, to get a degree in Business and Design. Only, Taz returned to Philadelphia a year later with more than just college credits to her name. The only thing Taz fears is her father, Officer Drew Grady, painting the town red when he finds out.

Madame Lilly, Voodoo Priestess: Soulless Vol 2

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Soulless and vengeful proves a lethal  combination for those who have wronged her

The time is 1890, the place, New Orleans, and Odara is lost to Madame Lilly, her soulless side—and she has not finished what she started. Unleashing two great forces, Theolus and Hearon, with ferocious appetites against her common-law husband, Henry Nicholas, is just the beginning of the end for Lilly—only she doesn’t know it yet.

For the spirits she raised took what was left of her humanity and left a piece of themselves within her; a piece that craves chaos. Needing to maintain control over them to do her bidding, Lilly must do what is required even if it means becoming more like them.

Tortured, scorned and damned, Lilly has one mission in life: Retribution. 

Excerpt

“Go,” ordered Lilly.

And off Theolus and Hearon went with not so much as a question, for they knew what was expected of them. Chaos.

Slowly they ascended onto the porch, taking their time, savoring the moment that was about to commence, the moment of pure and utter turmoil at its keenest, the moment that would bring great men to their knees.

The door was locked. How silly. Hearon broke off the knob easily, but kicked down the door for the hell of it. In they walked as if they were strolling through Sister Xavier Hebert’s garden at the convent.

It was breathtaking how serene the house was until the first shot was fired. Lilly mounted the porch stairs and approached the door, holding on to the side column and awaiting the first cry of horror.
Then it came. That was what she yearned for. The sound of terror was the pinnacle of achievement for her.

An eruption of gunfire and shouting tore throughout the house, flooding it with confusion. Mrs. Nicolas was screaming for her sons’ souls and trying to save them. Scream on, Mrs. Nicolas, for what I do to you tonight will be far worse than what Henry has ever done.

The storm inside Lilly stirred so frantically it forced her to yell out. Feeling the wrath of her Loas’ hunger, she fell to her knees on the porch floor sweating and rocking back and forth until eventually she stopped fighting it and let it consume her, journey within her.

Her body locked up as her head fell back, keeping her frozen in that position on the porch floor and allowing her to see what her Loas saw inside the house and experience it as if it were she shredding the vivaciousness between her teeth. She could taste the once-pulsating blood and warm fleshy tissue in her mouth, down her throat, and in her stomach. It was revitalizing to feel and taste but then, just like that, the connection broke.

***

Other Books from the Madame Lilly Saga

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