Saturday, October 22, 2016

#Book #Blitz...Opaque. . .#BookBoost #Promo


Opaque
The Scion Saga 
Book One
Calix Leigh-Reign

Genre: Young Adult, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Romance

Publisher: Nnylluc Book Group LLC 

Date of Publication: 10/22/2016

ISBN: 9780997923988
ASIN: 0997923989

Number of pages: 256
Word Count: 96,910

Cover Artist: Calix Leigh-Reign 
and Joshua Jadon

Book Description: 

"Her crimson limbal ring glows and I focus my sight as the incandescence dims. I clearly see it for sure this time. There's no denying it. Carly isn't human. She's something more - and if she isn't human, neither am I."

For those craving an untapped Sci-Fi niche - Opaque delivers in this gripping page-turner involving mutated Limbal rings, biokenretic anomalies, mental dysfunction, perplexing Russian ancestry & romance. 

Cālix takes us on an adventure that begins when 16 year old misanthropic Adam unknowingly reaches biokenretic puberty, and his supernatural abilities awaken to save him from his murderous intentions. His every thought revolves around the extinction of the human race until mysterious Afro-Russian Carly Wit stumbles into his English class one morning. Adam notices something otherworldly about her immediately but denies the bio-synch taking place inside of him. As he resists their blossoming love, he battles with unnatural thoughts of his mother. 

Discovering his origin isn't what he'd thought, he becomes determined to peel back the layers of his lineage and unmasks a multitude of mind-bending secrets along the way. 




CHAPTER ONE: A DARK MIND

The rust scented liquid oozes from my nostrils as I focus my thoughts on the rustic aperture. There’s a tiny ping inside of my throbbing head, as if something has recoiled. My oxygen supply is cut off, and my body convulses violently. I resist the ictal attack but my sight and hearing simultaneously abandon me. I’m trapped inside of an electrical storm. I wait ambivalently for it to pass and I lose track of time. Regaining my ability to swallow, the taste of copper invades my mouth. 

The sound of my bedroom window slamming closed startles me. Bolting upright against the headboard, I scan for any movement inside of the eerily silent darkness. Seeing none, I walk over and slide the pane vertically upward. I’m not sure if I had anything to do with the closure. Probably not. 

A foreign degree of heat rapidly spreads throughout my limbs, traveling into my chest. I cough. My breath is like steam rising from a teapot just before it begins to boil — but somehow it doesn’t burn me. Groaning, I completely undress and stand naked in front of the window. Bathing in the crisp air, and hoping to cool myself. 

It’s too hot for covers so I sprawl out naked on the bed, with my manhood facing the ceiling and my hands underneath the back of my head. Wanting her. Deserving her. Growing angrier by the second. My unembellished room is dark. Lit only by the supermoon. My cell phone illuminates with a text notification. I angrily glance out of the corner of my left eye, but I don’t bother turning my head. It doesn’t matter who it is because I know who it isn’t. 

My thoughts begin their inevitable descent. I recognize that my Creator has set me apart. It just seems nonsensical to set one apart only to watch their forceful and painful conformity. 

My eyes itch so I close them and converse with my immortal. My every extremity tingles as if I’m being electrocuted, and there’s a very noticeable rumbling inside of my thorax that grows until my breathing catches. The wind howls, as if in response to my anatomical anomalies. The spirit attempts to dissuade my thoughts with partial, believable hope that my torturous suffocation is self-inflicted and completely voluntary. A debate ensues and my immortal departs. 

I open my eyes as the itching subsides. My vision is distorted and my eyeballs are warm. I blink rapidly to abate the calefaction until my sight normalizes. The wind fights with the trees and they fight back. The wind — always the victor. I desperately wish the psithurism would drown out the torturous sounds wafting with invasion from their bedroom. The soft moans escaping her throat. What an actress. Their mattress squeaking. Offbeat. Quite naturally. Lame ass animal. He can’t even do that right. 

I should be inside of her. I will be soon. But for now, sleep will save lives and ensure a perfect plan. I close my eyes in torturous anger, and the metallic scented sludge regathers to block my sinuses, before dripping down my face — onto my cheeks.

Author Bio & Links

Cālix is the published author of the Russian-mutant, psychological Sci-Fi fantasy novel, Opaque. She's a certified paralegal and has studied creative writing under English teacher, script writer and published author Larry Strauss. Her earliest literary inspirations include Alice Walker, Larry Strauss, VC Andrews and Stephen King. She spent a majority of her childhood in libraries and developed an intense relationship with words. She's a member of YARWA and RWA and is currently serving as a judge for YARWA's 2016 Rosemary Contest. She enjoys prayer, discovering the minds of those who rebel against social programming, listening to music, a great cup of coffee, exquisite ethnic cuisine, spending time with family & friends, attending movie premieres, traveling and the arts. She spends her free time in the gym, fantasizing about story plots and different ways of changing the world.


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Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Book Reviewer
Blog Mistress:
Mello & June, It’s a Book Thang!

Friday, October 21, 2016

#Book #Blitz. . .After the Happily Ever After. . .#BookBoost


Horror/Fantasy/Fairy Tale Anthology
Date Published: December 15, 2016

The happily ever after is never the end. The curtain doesn't fall once love is recognized or evil is vanquished. Credits don't roll once the giant is slain or the big bad wolf is boiled alive. Wicked stepsisters, malevolent rulers, and hideous creatures still have lives after their sinister roles play out; heroes, lovers, and dreamers often find their victories lead to more troubles.

Within these pages are more than seventy continuations, retellings, and eldritch stories that explore the dark forests, magical castles, and hideous creatures After the Happily Ever After.






Teasers

“Sweet Revenge” by Charlotte Bond:

The laughter had died and the rumours had grown when they'd found the third dead dog in two weeks; each one had been torn to pieces, the heart gone and the ribcage showing teeth marks.

Outside the cottage, in the dark night, a dog howled.

“Little Red Hunting Hood” by Mary DeSantis:

I halt halfway to getting my red cape off and hung on a hook by the door.

Budding beanstalks, grandma has a visitor. Grandma never has visitors, except for me, Mom, and that guy she met at the Elder Cottage Living group two months ago.

I strain to hear. Whoever’s back there is quiet, which means it isn’t the Elder Cottages guy, and of course, this is the one time Grandma keeps her voice low.

I hang my cape and go back to the basket.

Two sets of footsteps approach. Grandma enters the kitchen. Her white hair is in its signature bun, and she’s wearing her white dress with the red-check pattern.

“Hello, sweetie.” Her face wrinkles with a smile and stays wrinkled as she directs her a glare over her shoulder. “Oh, for giant’s sake, get in here. She doesn’t bite.”

“A Sleeve of Feathers” by Claudia Quint:

It all came crashing down when he found Geileis in bed, nestled between Dylan and Ailill, Oisin cuddling on the left and Ruari at her feet, with Emmet and Cian resorting to floor space when they ran out of room on the bed. Stephen dragged the brothers out one by one, pushing and pulling so they awoke with starts and cries, until she roused, confused and sleepy, to ask him what in the world he was doing.

“Like it's the most normal thing in the world.” Stephen contented himself by folding his hands to stop fiddling with the cuffs. “To sleep with your brothers and shut out your husband.”

“Step-Mother” by Deanna Smith:

My name is Cindy Charming. I'm not, just so you know. Husband is, but that's his gig, and if it makes me squeal and giggle and blush when he's pouring it on, that ain’t nobody's business but our own. I sure as hell didn't spawn these three hooligans without some learned interjection from him. 

We tied the knot ten years ago. A fabulous fairy tale wedding, of course. A little creepy when the in-laws asked how much torture I'd like to lay on my step-mother and step-sisters, but you've really got to hand it to them, they went all out to make sure I felt welcome to the fam.

“Raven, Rose, and Apple Pie” by Jaap Boekestein:

The wind pulls at my hair; my braids are all undone. I can see such a distance from the highest tower of the castle: yellow fields and darks woods, silver rivers and hazy gray mountains with white peaks. It is beautiful. Will this be the last thing I see before I throw myself from the window? What will I think during the fall? Will I feel regret, or fear, or freedom? Will it… will it hurt? God in Heaven, forgive me.

His song saves me. The sound of the lute reaches even the highest tower. His voice…

Beautiful.

A minstrel is at the gate, asking to be let in with a demonstration of his skills. He is young; he is handsome, wearing bright colors.

I step back from the edge.

I have been saved.

“WITCH v. HANSEL, GRETEL, et. al.” by Daniel M. Kimmel:

So the question before us is one of balancing these two compelling but competing claims: Appellant Witch's insistence that any attempt to curtail or punish her actions would be an infringement of her religious freedoms under the First Amendment versus the desire of the Respondent class not to be baked and eaten.

While there is no precedent that is precisely on point, there are a number of cases that indicate a clear pattern. One such case is Goldilocks v. Papa Bear, Mama Bear, et. al. 516 Goose 749 (1852). In this instance, Goldilocks was in the same position as the Respondents in this case, trespassing on private property while asserting a need that, as was so claimed, overrode any competing rights. In her tort action against the Bear family, Goldilocks asserted numerous injuries, such as from eating porridge that was “too hot” or attempting to sleep in a bed that was “too small.” Nonetheless, the court found for the Bears, upholding the ursine precept that “a bear's home is his castle” and that being a “cute child” did preempt the rights of the Bear family to the quiet enjoyment of their abode. Indeed, the defense raised by Goldilocks against charges of criminal trespass and unauthorized digestion are precisely those that are asserted by the Respondent class in the present action.
            

Alisha Costanzo is from a Syracuse suburb. She earned her MFA in creative writing from the University of Central Oklahoma, where she currently teaches English. She’s the author of BLOOD PHOENIX: REBIRTH, BLOOD PHOENIX: CLAIMED, and LOVING RED, and is co-editor of DISTORTED and UNDERWATER. IMPRINTED, her new novel, is undergoing serious edits for its 2017 release. In the meantime, she will continue to corrupt young minds, rant about the government, and daydream about her all around nasty creatures.

Having relocated from Northwest Florida’s lonesome roads and haunted swamps, Anthony S. Buoni now prowls the gas lamp lit streets of New Orleans, playing moonlight hide and seek in the Crescent City’s above ground cemeteries. Anthony is the author of Conversation Party, Bad Apple Bolero, as well as the editor to the Between There anthologies. His stories and articles have been featured in North Florida Noir and Waterfront Living. When not prowling, Anthony keeps it scary, writing dark fiction, editing, and watching horror movies. In his spare time, he DJs, plays music, and conjures other worldly creatures with tarot cards and dreams.

Contact Links

Purchase Links
Bookmarks and Pre-order Copies 
Unpublished stories, personalized poems, and Advance-reader Copies from the Contributors and Editors. 
Limited-edition Hard-cover copies of the 550-page anthology.



Giveaway Link a Rafflecopter giveaway


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Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Book Reviewer

#Book #Excerpt. . .Finding Mom. . .#BookBoost #Promo


 Non-fiction, parenting, self-help, personal growth, mom self-care.

Date Published: October 6, 2016
Publisher: My Koala Pouch publishing

Vitality. Passion. Tranquility. Do any of these words currently describe you? 

Finding Mom will reawaken your dreams and help you to find and reinvent yourself.

Sometimes we love being a mom, but get frustrated when motherhood takes over our life. You are a mom and so much more. That’s why it’s important to start your journey to find your purpose beyond just being a mom. Learn the secrets to finding “me time” in even your busiest days. Uncover and recover your unique mom personality with a personality quiz. Create a sustainable and effective plan for your future that your family will support. No matter how busy you are, how many kids you have, or how young your children are, this book makes finding fulfillment possible for you.

What are you waiting for? Make a difference in your life and start finding yourself today!







You may think that it’s impossible to get to know yourself while your children are young and that it will be easier when your children get older. The truth is, you don’t have to wait. I took my journal to the hospital with me when I had my second child and started implementing some of my goals right after I recovered from childbirth.

Refinding myself has really changed the entirety of my life. In the year following my own personal analysis, I managed to meet my goals of becoming an author, losing all my baby weight from both kids, and strengthening my spirituality. I discovered that I do not have the patience or the real skill for crocheting; I enjoy horseback riding and quiet time in the woods. Currently, I’m working through a couch to 5K program in order to run a race in a few months. I have future aspirations of having my own successful business, learning karate, and traveling the globe. 

You may be thinking, “Well, good for you, Amanda, but I’m too busy to find myself.” Maybe you work full time, homeschool, have seven kids, and make all of your food from scratch. Maybe you volunteer at church or take care of an elderly parent or a special needs child. As mothers, our list of responsibilities is endless and our unique challenges may feel insurmountable. The thing is, if you really want to make a difference in your life, you will find a way. I purposely directed this book at moms because we face unique trials, and I wanted to really zero in on how you can make a difference in your life.

The “year of Amanda,” during which I took the time to find myself, was also one of the most hectic periods of my life to date. We had a new baby, my husband got a new job, and we moved from one house to another. All of this was going on while I was still actively raising and nurturing two children. The “year of you” may be even more hectic, but we are going to work together to make it a reality.

Are you ready for the “Year of You?”

This book is designed as an informational workbook to help you on your journey toward rediscovering yourself. I know there is so much in this book that it can be a bit overwhelming. You do not have to complete all of Part 1 at one time in order to get a lot out of this book. That’s why I broke the book down into three parts. You can explore as much or as little about yourself in Part 1 as you want, while still being able to turn your areas of improvement into actionable steps and goals in Part 2. In Part 3, you can learn how to take those goals and start applying them to your life. This book isn’t meant to be something to just read and forget. I want you to be able to take whatever time you have and put it into making a real change in your life.

After reading this book, you will be able to:

•Incorporate personal time into your daily routine (with the kids around)

•Identify your individual qualities, stresses, and opportunities

•Understand your personality and your family members’ personalities

•Set achievable goals particular to your life

•Start a realistic personal development plan 

•Become the mom you want to be

If you actively partake in this book, you will have a solid plan for becoming who you are above and beyond the beloved label of “mom.” We have a lot to cover in this book, and I’m excited to help you change your life into one that is more fulfilling. As you turn the page, bring a pen to take notes and an open mind to discover your potential. 

Let’s start finding you . . .

Author Bio & Links

Amanda Mawhinney is an author, trainer and family relationship coach. Her professional passions are helping women to develop themselves and helping families to connect and build stronger bonds. Her blog, My Koala Pouch is where she writes about creating healthier families and fun activities for kids and adults. 

Amanda holds a degree in Psychology from Clarion University of Pennsylvania. She was an HR professional at a company with over 11,000 employees worldwide. She designed, created and implemented many developmental courses and an orientation program. She trained management, developed employees, facilitated mentorship programs and strengthened interdepartmental teams. Before having children of her own, Amanda worked with children with behavioral issues and their families. As an AmeriCorps volunteer she taught disabled and at- risk youth about giving back to the community and the environment.

Amanda currently homeschools her two delightful daughters and spends her days enjoying the great outdoors, reading, writing and doing fun activities with her family. Visit her website, My Koala Pouch at www.mykoalapouch.blogspot.com.

Contact Links

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Brought to You By:





Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Book Reviewer
Blog Mistress:
Mello & June, It’s a Book Thang!

#Book #Blitz...Blood Road...#BookBoost

Bravo: Blood Road 
Summer Lane
(Bravo Saga, #2)
Publication date: October 21st 2016
Genres: Post-Apocalyptic, Young Adult

Bravo and his beloved handler, Lieutenant Nathan Ingalls, are together again amidst the ashes of an apocalyptic California. Together, they are using their skills to help a rebel militia group seek out survivors in the desolation of Death Valley.

But when the Death Brigade – a vicious anarchist group arisen from the dust of a fallen society – rolls into town, tragedy strikes. Someone is taken. Neither Nathan nor Bravo will allow that. The hunt is on – Bravo will not fail in his task to protect his friends.

The Black Market.

Rescuing the people you love sometimes comes with a price. When Bravo and his friend, India, are taken to Blood Road, they are forced to fight for their lives in a terrifying and vicious society of gambling, deceit and violent entertainment.

Alone and afraid, Bravo is forced to fight for his life every day in an arena while cruel spectators make bets on the odds of his victory. His only allies in this dark place could perish as suddenly as he could.

The bonds of friendship are tested, and the agonizing teeth of loss sink their fangs deep.

Life or death. Fight or flight. Bravo must choose.

One mission, completed.

One duty, fulfilled.

And now, the Blood Road will wreak its vengeance.

This is the conclusion to Bravo the bomb dog’s thrilling and poignant tale of love, loss and ultimate sacrifice, a #1 bestselling phenomenon.






Bravo was there. He heard Danny scream, tasted the sharp jolt of terror heavy in the air. He came straight for him, sailing like a dark bullet through the night. The coyote did not see him coming. Bravo hit him like an arrow, rage pulsing through his body.

How dare this wolf-thing harm Danny! The fury was a tangible thing, flooding through his veins like a wildfire. He bit the coyote below the mouth, in the soft flesh of the neck, where the lifeblood was.

Take away lifeblood, take away life. That was the law of the fight. Bravo had learned that in the Arena, but it was an unspoken and silently understood fact of instinct. Blood contained life…remove blood, and the enemy would fall.

The coyote yelped and released its hold on Danny. The little boy stumbled backward, crying, while Bravo drug the dog-thing to the ground, holding it there, second by second, as the life drained from it and the hot, salty blood spilled onto his face and stained his fur.

Bravo felt nothing but the storming satisfaction of the bite and the devotion to the kill – the mission. This was his job, to protect Danny at all costs, because Nathan was not here, and because that is what Bravo was: a protector.
promoposter


Author Bio:

Summer Lane is the #1 bestselling author of 14 novels, including books from the hit Collapse Series, Zero Trilogy and Bravo Saga. She is the owner of WB Publishing and Writing Belle, an online magazine devoted to the art of storytelling. Summer is also an accomplished creative writing teacher and experienced journalist. 

She lives in the Central Valley of California with her husband, Scott, where she spends her days writing, teaching and writing some more. Summer loves to visit the mountains (nature rocks!), the beach (Hawaii is heaven) and have hot cups of tea with good friends (tea is always a good idea). She also loves dogs and traveling!



Giveaway Link:  a Rafflecopter giveaway


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Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Book Reviewer

#Book #Spotlight. . .Eden's Deliverance...#BookBoost #Giveaway #Ebooks

COMIN' AT'CHA
Proudly Presents. . .A Book 'Spotlight'
Featuring Author, Rhenna Morgan



Eden’s Deliverance
The Eden Series
Book Four
Rhenna Morgan

Genre: Contemporary Fantasy Romance

Publisher: Rhenna Morgan
Date of Publication: October 11, 2016

ISBN: Print - 978-1-945361-03-6 / 
ISBN: E-book - 978-1-945361-02-9
ASIN: B01IUR28TA

Number of pages: 277
Word Count: 98,794

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow



Book Description

Fate is the life we’re given. Destiny is what we do with it.

Captured as a child and forced into slavery by the Rebellion’s leader, Brenna Haven was raised in near isolation with the utmost cruelty. She knew nothing of kindness or compassion until Fate orchestrated her rescue. Finally free, she wants nothing more than to return to her home. To reconnect with her human family and live a simple, quiet life. But her newfound powers demand an entirely different future. One fraught with danger and a terrifying role in an ancient Myren prophecy.

A battle-hardened warrior and sworn bodyguard to the king, Ludan Forte wields a powerful, memory stealing gift. But his skill comes with a price. A torturous burden he’s hidden since his awakening over a hundred years ago. He never dreamed he’d find relief, let alone be tempted to forgo his vows to the king. Yet in Brenna’s sweet beguiling presence, the weight he bears is lifted. And when her role in the prophecy threatens her life, he’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe.

This is the final book in the Eden Series.





Author Bio/Links


Rhenna Morgan writes for the same reason she reads—to escape reality.

A native Oklahoman with two beautiful girls and a fantastic husband, her resume reflects her passion for new experiences. Since graduating with a Bachelors in Radio, Television, and Film at Oklahoma State, she’s racked up positions ranging from on-air radio talent, skip tracer, and promotions director, to real estate agent, project manager, and business analyst.

Like most women, she’s got obligations stacked tight from dusk to dawn. That’s where the romance comes in. Reading, or writing, romance has been her happy place since she cracked the spine on her first Christine Feehan book years ago. Nothing thrills her more than the fantasy of new, exciting worlds, and strong, intuitive men who’ll fight to keep the women they want.

Whether it’s contemporary, paranormal, or fantasy you’re after, Rhenna’s stories pack romantic escape for the women who need it.


TOUR GIVEAWAY
1 $25 Amazon Gift Card – open to international winners

1 Eden Series Prize Pack – Signed copy of Eden’s Deliverance, Tote, Coffee Mug, Stylus/Pen, Post-its

Giveaway Link:  a Rafflecopter giveaway


Brought to You By:



Kimberly Ranee Hicks,
Author/Poet/Book Reviewer
Blog Mistress: Mello & June, It’s a Book Thang!

#Book #Spotlight. . .Black and Blue. . .#BookBoost

Black And Blue
Quentin Black Mystery
Book Five
JC Andrijeski
Genre: Paranormal Mystery / Romance/ UF

Publisher: White Sun Press
Date of Publication: 7/27/16

ISBN: 9781370573745
ASIN: B01J4AXZ8U

Number of pages: 336
Word Count: 101,005

Cover Artist: Jennifer Munswami 
at J.M. Rising Horse Creations

Book Description: 

“He’d be fresh meat here. And he didn’t have his sight...”

Black takes a new consulting gig with the LAPD, helping them find a contract killer who left a dead body behind the Los Angeles Theater. Despite Miri’s lingering fears after what happened to him during the last murder case he worked, he assures her it’s routine, that he won’t be doing fieldwork, that nothing could possibly go wrong.

Then, during his first night on the job at the Port of Los Angeles, all hell breaks loose and all bets are off.

Black wakes up in a nightmare he couldn’t have foreseen, with no way out and no idea how he got there. Robbed of his psychic sight, he can’t even call to Miriam for help, or use his abilities to figure out where he is, who took him, or what they want from him.

On the outside, Miri is frantic, working with the police and Black’s team to find him. She has even less information than Black… until a confession from her Uncle Charles brings her face to face with a much older enemy, the same enemy that may have killed her entire family.

BLACK AND BLUE is book five in the paranormal mystery romance starring brilliant but dangerous psychic detective, Quentin Black, and his partner, forensic psychologist Miri Fox.









HISTORY REPEATS

ALARMS EXPLODED OVERHEAD, bells clanging. The sounds slammed into his skull like a rock wielded by a psychopath. Grimacing, he raised a hand to his eyes, though it wasn’t bright. Blood pressed against the bone of his skull, harder with each throb, like a beating heart.

Even past the pain, he was groggy. He felt nauseous––that specific kind of sick feeling he associated with a head injury. But he might have been drugged.

He couldn’t clear his head enough to decide.

Either way, the specifics likely weren’t important. He got the gist. Someone clocked him good. He’d been out cold, at least a few hours.

He tried to retrace his mental footsteps.

The port. That asshole, Mozar, dragged him out to the port with his SWAT guys and Hawking and a few other detectives. It was supposed to be a simple job, advisory only. He was there as a goddamned consultant, which was humorous in and of itself.

Then it all went wrong. Seriously crazy shit went down.

Hawking... it all started with Hawking.

He fought to think, but everything kept fuzzing in and out. He got details, fragments, but it wasn’t enough to piece together. He knew that might be the head injury too. He also knew––unfortunately, from previous experience––that he might have gone into ungrat, the seer stasis, if they’d hit him hard enough. If so, his memories should start filtering back if he didn’t get himself too banged up again in the next twenty-four hours or so.

Unfortunately, he suspected he was in danger of banging himself up again right now.

The knowledge came without words, without additional information.

It didn’t come from reading anyone with his “psychic” ability, either––a term his wife, Miriam, still insisted on using, no matter how much he bitched at her at the inadequacy and fuzziness of the lame, New-Agey (and human) meanings of the word “psychic.”

This was pure instinct. That same instinct told him, unequivocally, that he had only a few minutes to get his head on straight or he was in serious fucking trouble.

Opening his eyes reluctantly, he looked around at where he was. That sense of danger started vibrating his skin, making it hard to focus at first. A different clanking sound came from a lot closer, ratcheting up that feeling of concern. He was definitely in danger.

He reached out with his sight, trying to pinpoint the source...

...And pain ripped through his spine.

It was so intense, so completely unexpected, he let out a broken gasp.

Then he lay back on the mattress, panting.

Understanding filtered into his mind, then disbelief. 

He sat up in a near panic that time––but had to stop, panting and hanging his head when nausea overwhelmed him a second time. He lay on a thin mattress pad over what looked like concrete. He recognized the institutional gray, even before his eyes shifted to the bars and wire mesh that made up one wall of the cell.

His hand went to his throat, a reflex he hadn’t had in years, one he’d broken in himself deliberately. When he first got to this version of Earth, he used to reach reflexively for his throat every time he woke up. He would feel around the full circumference of his neck, making sure, reassuring himself that he really had left that behind, that he wasn’t there anymore, in that world where his people lived like animals.

As his fingers closed over the cold metal now...

His mind fuzzed out.

Then he was breathing too much, panting, half-groaning as his hands followed the thing around his neck, using both hands now, feeling around to where it hooked into the base of his skull. He winced at the pain where the prongs sank into the back of his neck. 

It was the same.

Exactly. Fucking. The Same.

He reached out with his sight––carefully, that time––and the collar shocked him again. It was a lot less intense that time, but it still gritted his teeth. And it hurt like hell.

He let out a furious growl, then tried again.

That time, the collar shocked him harder––hard enough to blur his vision.

He sat on the edge of the cement bench, panting, so filled with rage he couldn’t think straight for what felt like several minutes.

Disbelief flooded his mind a second time; denial blotted out everything else. He knew he had to focus on the danger he could still feel coming, but he didn’t give a shit. Rage and denial and disbelief erased the pain he felt in his body, the wounds he hadn’t yet catalogued but knew were there. He forgot his pounding head, reaching out with his light a third time, trying to see, to use his seer’s sight.

The brushed metal collar shocked him for a full minute that time. That pain in his head exploded, getting so bad he couldn’t make a sound at first.

He barely noticed.

He tried to use his sight again.

The shock that time nearly blacked him out.

“No.” He spoke aloud without knowing he meant to, his voice a low, deep mantra after that first whisper. “No, no, no, no... fuck no, this isn’t happening... this isn’t fucking happening...”

He yanked on the collar, pure instinct again, no reason.

The pain that rippled up through the back of his skull that time did knock him out.

He came to seconds later, groaning.

Pulling himself off the mattress a second time, he lurched to his feet, slamming his head into a shelving unit above him, which forced him to sink back to the bed, letting out another low cry of pain. He gripped the thin mattress below and the shelf above, breathing through the blinding throbs at the base of his skull, fighting to calm down, to clear his mind. His shoulder hurt too, bad enough to reach his awareness beyond the deeper pain coming from his head.

Once he could see again, he heard another loud clanking and looked up. He watched in disbelief as the heavy metal door set in the far wall slid open in front of him.

Then, the rest of it finally fell utterly into place.

He was in fucking prison.

He looked around, taking in the scratched, metal-plate mirror, the metal sink and toilet combination, the table and shelf bolted to the opposite wall. A plastic television with a clear-plastic body stood on that shelf. Otherwise, the room was empty, stripped of life.

Someone knocked him out, put a sight-restraint collar on him, and stuck him in a fucking prison cell.

Looking down, he saw he wore royal blue formless pants, a white tank top. He had a bandage on his shoulder and one around his arm.

He touched the collar again, tentatively that time.

His fingers followed it to the back of his neck, where the prongs of metal burrowed into his skin, wrapping coldly around his spine. He touched the whole thing with both hands, still feeling that as the biggest point of unreality.

It was definitely a sight-restraint collar.

Was he back in that goddamned shit-hole where he was born? Did he fall through another goddamned door? He struggled against the idea, the rising panic that came with it. 

Then another realization hit him. Miri.

Gods. Miri.

If he wasn’t on that Earth anymore...

But his mind couldn’t finish the thought.

For a few minutes he could only sit there, breathing too hard, fighting to think. He looked at his body, at his clothes. As he did, the panic that briefly paralyzed his mind began slowly to recede. This was fucking-A real, all right.

But he was still on the right Earth.

None of this was right for his home world. None of it. He was wearing prison fatigues, but they were human. If he was back in that other world, they wouldn’t have left his hands and feet free. No way. Not at his sight rank.

He’d be wearing organic or semi-organic binders, not just the collar. They’d have him chained to the wall. And no way in hell would they open the door with him un-cuffed inside. The door was all wrong, anyway. Back home, that door would be pure organic metal, possibly with a sliding view hole. Or organic glass.

The cell would be dark.

He would also probably be drugged, or hooked up to wires. He definitely would have been beat up more, not just groggy from a head injury.

And yeah, the clothes were all wrong.

Black’s rational mind slowly began to take over as he looked around the small cell. This was definitely what he thought of as his Earth. Back home, they didn’t house seers like this, even during Black’s time. Now they probably had even more sadistic tech toys to control people like him. They’d definitely have surveillance in the room.

Taking another deep breath, he flipped over his arm, looking at his old race-cat tattoo. He found himself relaxing even more when he saw the skin unbroken.

If they’d picked him up in the old world, they would have re-chipped him immediately. He’d had the old one removed as soon as he possibly could, about ten years after he first reached this world. Running his fingers over the smooth skin, he forced himself to take another breath.

So he was still on the right Earth. The Earth where his life was.

The Earth where Miri was.

But how the fuck would anyone know to collar him here? And if they knew that much, why would they put him in with a general population at all?

Well, unless they were trying to disappear him.

Or kill him.

At the thought, he rose shakily to his feet––more cautiously that time. He gripped the cement shelf as he got up, using it for balance. Turning his head slowly, mostly because of the pain, he looked over both sides of the room, reassuring himself it was empty. He knew he wouldn’t be alone in here for long, though.

His eyes returned to the open door.

He could already hear the sounds.

Prisoners leaving their cages, joking, laughing, talking loudly, starting to walk the catwalks. Heading in his direction.

New guy. He’d be the new guy.

He again fought to pull his head together, knowing he didn’t have a lot of time. He couldn’t be found in here like this, half-blind with pain, clutching the collar and whining like a wounded dog. He’d been in prisons before. That had been in a different world, a different time and place, but some things wouldn’t have changed.

Some things never changed.

He’d be fresh meat here, just like he had been back then. And he didn’t have his sight.

Welcome to the jungle, motherfucker.

Welcome home.




Bangkok Halloween
Guest Blog by JC Andrijeski

I’m an Amreican living in Bangkok, which means every year around this time, I experience Bangkok Halloween. Holidays are always kind of a trip when you live abroad, anyway. They were weird when I lived in India and while they might be somewhat less weird here, they still have a distinctly different flavor than they do in the States.

I’m lucky living here though, in terms of American holidays –– Bangkokians love a good party. They’re also wide open to celebrating any event deemed interesting by the locals, whether Thai or not. It doesn’t hurt that there are a ton of Americans living here. 

I learned this my first Halloween living here, when I decided to venture out and see if I could find some fellow ghouls and goblins for some (mostly) harmless Halloween fun. Even though there wasn’t the full range of kids trick-or-treating on the streets or decorations in all the stores... there were a TON of Halloween bashes. There was even a Halloween street fair for kids and families, along with haunted houses, a big horror film event, numerous costume parties and other themed events at bars and restaurants for the more “adult” take of Halloween.

Thailand has a big market for paranormal stuff in general, so I guess it shouldn’t be surprising. They have a yearly Comicon in Bangkok, and of course all the supernatural and romantic and action movies, as well as most of the television shows. My first Thai teacher was a HUGE Supernatural fan, (meaning the television show) and we’d often get totally sidetracked in lessons to talk about that, the Vampire Diaries and all else sexy and supernatural.

Maybe that’s why I don’t feel too out of place here, despite the culture gaps. Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss Halloween in the States. It’s probably “the” holiday for a lot of my friends... and I really miss the kid side of things, and all the decorations and craziness.

Also, in a tropical climate, you just don’t get the colors from the leaves changing or the carved pumpkins or fireplaces... or the fall skies. The weather alone is a pretty stark reminder of being in a distant land.

Still, I have to say, I really love where I live. It works well for me as a writer too, so for now at least, I might just have to plan more visits to colder climes during the spooky time of the year... 

Until then, Happy Halloween everyone!


About the Author:

JC Andrijeski is a USA TODAY bestselling author who writes paranormal mysteries and apocalyptic fiction, often with a sexy, romantic and metaphysical bent. JC has a background in journalism, history and politics, and loves martial arts, yoga, meditation, hiking, swimming, horseback riding, painting… and of course reading and writing. She grew up in the Bay Area of California, but travels extensively and has lived abroad in Europe, Australia and Asia, and from coast to coast in the continental United States. She currently lives and writes full-time in Bangkok, Thailand. 

To learn more about JC and her writing, please visit 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/jcandrijeski @jcandrijeski
Amazon Author page: http://amzn.to/1GqSJlq

Goodreads author page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4470130.J_C_Andrijeski


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