Press Release: Jurassic Jackaroo A Hunted Tribe Prequel – Book 1: Jasper’s Junction

Jurassic Jackaroo

A Hunted Tribe Prequel – Book 1: Jasper’s Junction

How does the greatest gunslinger of the old west end his career? By hunting a dinosaur animal spirit, of course..

Karl Redgrave has a big plan for his retirement party. He’s bringing together the world’s greatest criminals, murderers, warriors, and assassins to hunt something worthy of them all: a highly intelligent, seven-foot tall dinosaur spirit; known to the natives as the Grishla.

Of course, Karl wants only the best on his safari, so he has pitted these men against each other in a deadly contest in an old ghost town, with five winners securing a place in the hunt.

Who will live? Who will win? And if they win, can they survive the final confrontation with the beast?

Roma Gray began writing at the age of 8 and wrote her first novel when she was 13. Besides writing, she is also a project manager in the IT field. Her other interests include painting, hiking, archeology, and physics.

Jurassic Jackaroo is Part of Project 26, P26, a series of 26 books, each one representing a different letter in the alphabet, with each letter in turn represented a horror-related concept that starts with that letter.

“Roma skillfully takes you on a rip-roarin’ adventure ride, filled with monsters (including the human variety), terror, intrigue, some real laugh-out-loud moments and most of all; memorable, extremely likeable and also hate-able characters.” ~Toneye Eyenot

“It’s some of Roma’s best writing. The story grabs you from the first page and refuses to let you go, indeed, you don’t want to go, but it’s the story that leaves you at the end.” ~Dona Fox

Roma Gray can be reached at the following:

Website: http://www.TrickorTreatThrillers.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005601256861

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Press Release: The Scream Machine by Sam Mortimer a Siren’s Call Publication

Press Release: The Scream Machine by Sam Mortimer a Siren’s Call Publication

Synopsis

Cash carries a disease; one that’s already killed a large majority of the population and something needs to be done. To stop the crisis from escalating, The Solution (a worldwide organization) is formed and rises to great power. They monitor people’s dreams and shape reality to fit their own wants and needs. In an effort to control existence itself, The Solution is searching for what they believe to be the ultimate tool; a person with the ability to master a deep connection with the mysterious, pervasive energy known only as The Ultimate Reality.

Watching her neighborhood decay, her friends and family perish, Elizabeth Reznik needs to find meaning in her life. She discovers her existence is more meaningful than she could ever have imagined. Operatives of The Solution seek her out, take her from her home and perform brutal experiments on her. Their conclusion? Elizabeth is the one they have been searching for; she is the key to gaining complete power.

The stratagem of The Solution is single minded – own the resources and you own the people. And the last resource available is free will. They will own your thoughts, they will orchestrate your dreams; they will dine on your fears. But there is always a cog in the machine… or in this case, a scream.

 

 

 

 

Available on:

Amazon: US | UK | Canada | Australia | Germany | France | Spain | Italy | Japan | Mexico | Brazil | India | The Netherlands

Amazon Print: US | UK | Canada | Australia | Germany | France | Spain | Italy | Japan | Mexico | Brazil | India | The Netherlands

iTunes | Kobo | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | CreateSpace (Print)

 

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Sam Mortimer has worked the graveyard shift in law enforcement, attended film school, and has been writing strange stories since age eleven. He loves reading, music, and strives to meet the demands of his five cats.

PRESS RELEASE : The Calling by Brent Abell a Siren’s Call Publication

PRESS  RELEASE: THE CALLING BY BRENT ABELL A SIREN’S CALL PUBLICATION

 

The CallingBrent Abell

Carl Volker has a problem. After waking one morning with a hangover to find his wife gone, he notices a crow stalking around his yard. As days go by with no word from his wife, more and more crows gather.

Frank Hill is sheriff in the seemingly pleasant town of White Creek. Up until recently, his job has been fairly mundane but after a recent spree of murders, bodies are beginning to pile up and Frank has no clue as to who the killer may be.

White Creek has kept its secrets hidden well over the years but the sins of its past are coming to light; the town harbors an evil and the bindings that keep it in check are beginning to unravel.

As Frank and Carl’s friendship is tested and their destinies are revealed, the dead accumulate while the crows watch and The Calling begins!

Available on:

Amazon: US | UK | Canada | Australia | Germany | France | Spain | Italy | Japan | Mexico | Brazil| India | The Netherlands

Amazon Print: US | UK | Canada | Australia | Germany | France | Spain | Italy | Japan | Mexico | Brazil| India | The Netherlands

Kobo

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Smashwords

CreateSpace (Print)

An Excerpt from The Calling…

Chapter 1:

June 1994

Carl Volker awoke that morning with a hangover that split his head in two and the rooster outside calling out the dawn didn’t make things any better, but instead drove the alcohol’s wedge deeper in his brain. Rolling over, he felt for Maggie’s body and found her half of the bed empty. The early morning light streamed into the window and hit Carl like a sledge hammer. He rubbed his blood shot eyes and pulled the pillow over his head. He drifted off to sleep again, the pillow blocking out the sounds of the rooster and the outside world.

Two hours later he awoke and found the other side of the bed was still empty. He sat up and sniffed the air, hoping to catch a whiff of breakfast cooking or any faint scent of recently cooked food. He smelled nothing and wondered what the hell Maggie was up to. This late in the morning, she usually would have some food cooked up for him before he headed out to the fields for the day. Carl swung his legs over the side of the bed and put on his slippers. His bladder was killing him and his stomach rumbled in hunger.

Carl wandered through the house in his boxer shorts, first visiting the bathroom to unburden his bladder, and then heading down the stairs to fix the stomach issue. He sniffed the air again and was once more denied the smell of breakfast. Stopping in the kitchen doorway, he opened his eyes fully and saw nothing had been moved or used. The skillets lay in the sink where they were left the night before and the loaf of bread sat with no other slices removed. He scratched his head in disbelief.

Where the hell is that woman?” Carl muttered to himself as he sat down at the kitchen table. “Not even any damn coffee either.”

He turned his head to the window to see if maybe Maggie had headed out to the fields to feed the cows and the pigs. From his vantage point, the cows were lined up at the fence waiting for food and the pigs were poking around in their pens seeking a bite. Carl started to be very concerned, not only because he had no coffee or breakfast, but because Maggie seemed to be gone and that was highly unlike her.

Carl began to retrace his steps, only this time he decided to keep his eyes open. The morning hadn’t been kind and his vision remained blurry no matter how many times he rubbed them. He trudged back up the stairs, all of his fifty-two-year-old body protesting every step. This time when he opened the bedroom door, he noticed that Maggie’s clothes were thrown from her drawers and strewn across the floor in a crumpled pile. Carl scratched his head and went to the closet door. Opening it up, he saw that the suitcase was gone. He still didn’t compute what was going on until he peeked into the bathroom and saw her makeup case missing too.

Carl scratched his head again and said, “Well ain’t that a bitch,” to nobody in particular at all.

***

The chores were done by three in the afternoon and Carl decided to leave the field alone for the day. He had to figure out just where his wife went. The last thing he remembered was drinking his whiskey straight from the bottle while Maggie downed glass after glass of wine. They laughed, they drank, they made love, and they drank some more. As he thought back, he couldn’t place anything that Carl thought would make her want to walk out on him. He hung his hat up by the back door and walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He removed the church key from the hook besides the fridge and opened his Busch Light. Carl found himself dismayed that supper was not being cooked for him and decided to sit on the porch swing while he finished his beer.

It was when he saw it for the first time; the crow perched in the tulip tree next to the birdbath.

Carl fixed his gaze on the jet black bird that stared back at him; its red eyes burning Carl straight down to his soul. The crow’s beady little eyes unsettled him greatly.

Get the hell out here ya’ bastard!” Carl hollered out to the bird. He reached down and took off his boot. He stood up quickly and chucked the shoe in the direction of the tree. The boot fell far short of its intended target and thudded harmlessly to the ground. The crow called out like it was laughing at Carl and it really pissed him off. First his wife vanished, he still was hung over, and now a damn crow mocked him. After thinking about it for a few minutes, he figured it would be better if he just fired up the Ford and went into town to have supper and get a drink or five at Telly’s Tavern.

Taking one last look at the crow, it spread its wings and took off into the darkening sky. Carl tossed his empty beer can off the porch and went in to get ready to go.

***

An old black man sat up in front of the bar and picked the strings on his beat up old guitar. The instrument looked like it’d been through Hell, but the blues ringing out from it sounded like Heaven to the crowd at Telly’s. The farmers and hands all drank while they tapped their feet and smacked the heavy wooden bar as the music struck a chord with the working men. A cloud of cigarette smoke hovered in the air and the haze grew thicker the further away from the bar one got.

Carl sat hunched over a beer at the bar and he stared off at the various signs hanging behind Telly.

What the Hell wrong with you Carl? You’ve been sitting there quiet as a mouse all evening. Maggie got you in the dog house?” Telly bellowed and laughed.

Ain’t seen her all day,” Carl answered and took a long pull from the beer bottle.

What do you mean you ain’t seen her all day? Don’t you control your wife out there at the farm?” Telly prodded and let out another loud laugh.

You let me worry about her, Telly. Why you got an old Negro in here playin’?”

Times changed a long time ago you old bastard and he picks the best blues strings for miles,” Telly retorted.

Carl took another long pull from his beer and emptied it. Slamming the glass on the table, he tossed a few dollars beside it and got up from his stool. “Well, I gotta go and see if she’s come back yet. See ya tomorrow, Telly.”

Telly watched Carl stager from the bar to the door and he shook his head. If he knew Maggie like he did, her splitting was a permanent thing and she wouldn’t be back no matter how much Carl begged. He’d known Carl since high school and he knew he would never beg her to come back. What did surprise him was if what happened was terrible enough she left, she didn’t say anything. His cousin knew how to argue and she’d let Carl have it on her way out of the door. Someone hollered for another round, so he buried his thoughts and went back to work.

***

The first thing Carl noticed when he pulled his old Ford truck in the drive were the four crows perched along the fence by the well. None of them flew off and their heads followed him as he parked the truck and opened the door. In the dark, Carl felt their bright red eyes burn through him.

Picking up a rock, he hurled it at the fence and it smacked the post with a loud thud. The rock bounced to the ground and the crows sat there glaring at him, none of them taking flight.

Go on! Get outta’ here ya’ bastard birds!”

He ran at the fence waving his arms around like a mad man yelling and screaming. The crows stayed perched and remained still.

Caw, caw, caw, the crows sounded out in unison.

Carl froze a few feet from their perch. They stared at him and he felt his booze laced blood go cold. Their eyes locked onto his and he held their gaze for a moment. Neither moved nor blinked. After a few seconds, Carl turned and stormed off into the house.

Inside, he heard the crows begin their song again. The four birds and their constant calling grated on his nerves as he rushed to the hall closet. Flinging the door open, he grabbed his twelve gauge and broke it open to make sure it was still loaded. Everyone told him keeping a loaded shotgun in the house wasn’t a good idea, but he figured at some point, he’d need to defend his property.

Right now, he needed to clean the yard of some annoying birds.

Here you go you bastards!” Carl cried out as he kicked the screen door open. He brought the shotgun up and fired it at the fence.

Flames danced from the gun’s muzzle and he heard the buckshot pepper the fence posts and rails. The sound he didn’t hear pissed him off. He didn’t hear the crows die. Instead they sat motionless, still perched on top of the fence. Quickly, he cracked the casing open and ejected the spent shell. Slamming another shell in, he closed the barrel and aimed at the fence.

The crows were gone.

Carl walked to the fence and studied it. He found splintered wood along the top rail and on the center post where the crows were sitting. Running his finger along the wood, he felt the deep grooves, but he couldn’t find any blood or sign the crows were even there.

I know I saw them sons a bitches,” he muttered and dropped to his knees. “If them crows were here that long, they must have shit.”

The grass below the fence appeared to be all green without a trace of white. Frantically, Carl ran his fingers through the cut grass and only found clippings from where he cut it three days ago. Shaking his head, he stood up and sulked back to the house. Once inside, he poured a shot of bourbon and watched out the window with his shotgun leaning up next to the kitchen door.

He wanted the crows to return.

********

Brent Abell lives in Southern Indiana with his wife, sons, and a pug who sits around eating the souls of wayward people. His stories have been featured in over 30 publications from multiple presses. His work includes his novella In Memoriam, collection Wicked Tales for Wicked People, and novel Southern Devils; which are available now. He also co-authored the horror-comedy Hellmouth series. Currently, he is working on the second book in the Southern Devils series and the next book with Frank Hill in the White Creek Saga.

Facebook: Brent T. Abell

Twitter: @BrentTAbell

Blog: https://brentabell.wordpress.com/

Press Release : From the Case Files of Detective Mansfield by Essel Pratt

Press Release: From the Case Files of Detective Mansfield by Essel Pratt

Katherine Mansfield is a no-nonsense private detective in Mishawaka, Indiana. Adopted at an early age, by a police officer, Detective Mansfield was taught early to never take shit from anyone. Tough as nails, she has been the go-to investigator for the strange and macabre cases that lurk in the shadows in her small hometown.

When Detective Mansfield is called to the scene of an attempted rape, her callous approach begins a journey into a world that she had no idea existed. In a bizarre twist, Mansfield finds herself a victim of love, seduced by the rapist, becoming intertwined in darkness, until a new case beckons her forth. As her investigation sends her deeper down the proverbial rabbit hole, Detective Mansfield discovers the world is not what it seems.

As Detective Mansfield learns of the existence of the ancient text titled Melkal Demban- Khompf de Ghat, she finds herself teaming up with Hugues Kadmiel Christ, Hugh for short, an unlikely guide into the hidden world that conceals the existence of the Leviathan. Detective Mansfield and Hugh work together to stop the Leviathan’s Lacrimation, before the entire world falls beneath its tears.

Lacrimation of the Leviathan is book one in the case files of Detective Mansfield.

Essel Pratt is a master of horror and fantasy, conjuring tales that haunt souls and inspire imagination. As a student of psychology and teller of tales, Essel writes to share the complex nature of his imaginings with the world. His ever-expanding catalog of short stories spans multiple anthologies and collections, ranging from whimsical fantasy to bizarre horror, including everything in between. Dedicated fans have praised his creations, labeling his talents as prolific in substance.

Lacrimation of the Leviathan is Part of Project 26, P26, a series of 26 books, each one representing a different letter in the alphabet, with each letter, in turn, represented a horror-related concept that starts with that letter.

Essel Pratt can be reached at the following:

Website: http://esselpratt.wixsite.com/darknessbreaks

Twitter: @EsselPratt

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EsselPrattWriting

Press Release: Lacrimation of the Leviathan From the Case Files of Detective Mansfield

Press Release: Lacrimation of the Leviathan

From the Case Files of Detective Mansfield

Katherine Mansfield is a no-nonsense private detective in Mishawaka, Indiana. Adopted at an early age, by a police officer, Detective Mansfield was taught early to never take shit from anyone. Tough as nails, she has been the go to investigator for the strange and macabre cases that lurk in the shadows in her small hometown.

When Detective Mansfield is called to the scene of an attempted rape, her callous approach begins a journey into a world that she had no idea existed. In a bizarre twist, Mansfield finds herself a victim of love, seduced by the rapist, becoming intertwined in darkness, until a new case beckons her forth. As her investigation sends her deeper down the proverbial rabbit hole, Detective Mansfield discovers the world is not what it seems. 

As Detective Mansfield learns of the existence of the ancient text titled Melkal Demban- Khompf de Ghat, she finds herself teaming up with Hugues Kadmiel Christ, Hugh for short, an unlikely guide into the hidden world that conceals the existence of the Leviathan. Detective Mansfield and Hugh work together to stop the Leviathan’s Lacrimation, before the entire world falls beneath its tears.

Lacrimation of the Leviathan is book one in the case files of Detective Mansfield.

Essel Pratt is a master of horror and fantasy, conjuring tales that haunt souls and inspire imagination. As a student of psychology and teller of tales, Essel writes to share the complex nature of his imaginings with the world. His ever-expanding catalog of short stories spans multiple anthologies and collections, ranging from whimsical fantasy to bizarre horror, including everything in between. Dedicated fans have praised his creations, labeling his talents as prolific in substance.

Lacrimation of the Leviathan is Part of Project 26, P26, a series of 26 books, each one representing a different letter in the alphabet, with each letter in turn represented a horror-related concept that starts with that letter.

Essel Pratt can be reached at the following:

Website: http://esselpratt.wixsite.com/darknessbreaks

Twitter: @EsselPratt

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EsselPrattWriting

Submission Call: Crescendo of Darkness

Cover by Carmen Masloski

Crescendo of Darkness
Edited by Jeremiah Donaldson

“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.” -Victor Hugo

There’s a funny thing that can soothe the soul after a rough day at work, can put you in the mood to take on any challenge, or can transport you back twenty years in time. It’s the most widely enjoyed mode of entertainment and the most used form of mood alteration. Music.

Your story must involve music in some way. This could take the form of a specific genre or song, but also the creation of music, an instrument, or even the lack of music. What would you do if you didn’t have your favorite music to calm your mind or to motivate you? What horrible deeds are prevented on a daily basis because someone listened to their favorite song? How many people are alive because someone heard the right song at the right time? What is the power of music?

Note: This is a HorrorAddicts.net anthology. Your story must be a Horror story and contain something emotionally, physically, or mentally horrifying.

Manuscript Format:
Font: either Courier or Times New Roman.
Double spaced, font 12 point.
Your manuscript must be in either DOC or RTF format.
1st page header to state: author name, mailing address, email address, and word count.
Following pages header to state: author name, story name, and page number.

In the body of the email:
100 words or less bio about you.
One sentence explaining the story attached. Your elevator pitch.
Facebook, Twitter, Instagram ids
Your website or blog

Subject of the email state:
CRESCENDO OF DARKNESS/Author Name/Story Title
Send to: horroraddicts@gmail.com

No previously printed work and no simultaneous submissions.

Deadline: October 31st, 2017, 11:59pm PST
Length: 2,000-5,000 words
Payment: $10.00 USD + digital contributor copy
Return time: Final decisions will not be made until AFTER the submission close date (10/31/17). You should expect a return within 3 months of the submission close date.

If you do not receive an email stating your manuscript was received within two weeks of submission, please send a polite query to horroraddicts@gmail.com

For any other questions, please send an email to horroraddicts@gmail.com

Press Release: Teeth Marks by Matthew Weber

Press Release: Teeth Marks by Matthew Weber

 

Brace yourself for 12 twisted tales from America’s Deep South in TEETH MARKS, the third collection of horror fiction from Matthew Weber.

 

Psychotic Killers, Bloodthirsty Monsters and Ghastly Specters from Beyond the Grave!

Weber’s latest collection will grab you like a meat hook and keep you turning pages long after you’ve wet the bed. From back-country curses and maniacal next-door neighbors to alien invasions and shape-shifting beasts, TEETH MARKS delivers the most fun you’ll ever have reading about terrible things. Available now for Kindle download and soon in paperback from Pint Bottle Press.

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Matthew Weber (A DARK & WINDING ROAD, SEVEN FEET UNDER) is editor of the DOUBLE BARREL HORROR anthology series and editor-in-chief of EXTREMER HOW-TO home improvement magazine. He is a happily married father of three children, and when he’s not writing, remodeling or chasing kids, he plays bass in the long-running punk band, SKEPTIC?