Join this amazing Urban Fantasy Prize Pack Giveaway to win paperbacks by Patricia Briggs, Ilona Andrews, Faith Hunter, as well as a $20 Amazon gift card!
MAY 20 – MAY 28, 2018
Join this amazing Urban Fantasy Prize Pack Giveaway to win paperbacks by Patricia Briggs, Ilona Andrews, Faith Hunter, as well as a $20 Amazon gift card!
MAY 20 – MAY 28, 2018
The Indie Academy is hosting an Instafreebie giveaway from June 15th-30th.
Romance, Paranormal, Fantasy, Dystopian, Sci-Fi, Mystery, Thriller, Suspense – whatever you love to read, we have it!
There are 70 free books available via Instafreebie and a $10 Amazon gift card up for grabs.
I recently polled my mailing list to find out how many are Amazon readers and how many purchase from other retailers.
I’d been thinking about releasing The Shadow Series wide but after seeing the results that 95% of people preferred to purchase form Amazon, I’ve decided to enrol all four books from The Shadow Series in Kindle Unlimited.
This means you can read them for free when you’re signed up for a KU subscription.
To find my book and more than 150 other free KU books in lots of genres, check out this promotion. If you don’t know what KU is, you can also sign up for a trial, details at the link below!
Did you know that March 29th is a little known holiday? It’s a day to appreciate the art of deception, illusions, prestidigitation, and seemingly paranormal phenomenon, Smoke & Mirrors day. That’s why Cheap Thrills Book Store decided to celebrate it by offering a Bonus Book Giveaway!
We’ve going some killer bargains and on top of that we’re giving away a FREE KINDLE FIRE!!
T.F. Walsh, Monica Corwin, J.L. Weil,
Laxmi Hariharan, JA Culican, Muffy Wilson,
Marilyn Peake, Kevin McLaughlin, Carissa Ann Lynch,
Vivienne Savage, Anna Hub,
HJ Lawson, Emma Nichols, Shelley Munro, J.A.Armitage,
Leilani Love, Demelza Carlton, Xyla Turner,
D.S. Murphy, J.T. Williams
This Collection is packed with more than 20 full-length Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance reads from New York Times, USA Today, and International Bestselling Authors!
Don’t miss this collection of more than twenty unique twists in paranormal romance and urban fantasy, providing over one million words of supernatural suspense that will transport you to new worlds with smoking hot action and heart-throttling adventure!
The DARK LEGENDS boxed set includes: Mermaids, Sirens, Shifters, Vampires, Dragons, Sorcerers, Warriors, Angels, Faeries, Demons, Witches, Psychics, Ghosts, Mythology, Folk Tales, Legends, Dark Magic, Time Travel, and More!
T.F. Walsh with Demon’s Mark
Monica Corwin with Soulless
J.L. Weil with White Raven
Laxmi Hariharan with Redemption
JA Culican with The Keeper of Dragons, The Prince Returns
Muffy Wilson and The Para-Portage of Emily
GK DeRosa with Wilder: The Guardian Series
Marilyn Peake with Shade
Kevin McLaughlin with By Darkness Revealed
Carissa Ann Lynch with Midnight Moss
Vivienne Savage with Making Waves
Anna Hub with Beyond the Shadows
HJ Lawson with New Order
Emma Nichols with Blood Moon
Shelley Munro with Claimed & Seduced
J.A.Armitage with Two of Clubs
Leilani Love with Violca’s Dragon
Demelza Carlton with Ocean’s Gift
Xyla Turner with Broken Treaty
D.S. Murphy with Scarlet Thread
J.T. Williams with Winemaker of the North
This is the day Dorothea Landry dreamed of…
Fresh out of high school and stalling on college, all she wants is a little freedom.
So when she’s offered the opportunity to move into her grandmother’s old house in Black Cat Springs, she simply can’t refuse the deal. Cheap rent and distance from her parents is exactly what she’s always wanted…and a handsome new neighbor seals the deal.
But as soon as she moves to Black Cat Springs, she’s immediately drawn to a mysterious fence in the woods, and despite her better judgement and the dark legends surrounding it, she sneaks inside, learning that some things from her past are better left contained…
A twisted town with a mind boggling past is about to become Dorothea’s future. And whatever she does, one thing is certain—she cannot trust her instincts.
My dream from last night floated through my mind, the details becoming foggier…
At the bottom of the hill, I was surprised to see someone in the cemetery. Until now, I hadn’t paid much attention to the old graves, assuming most of its residents had died hundreds of years ago, based on how crumbled and weathered the tombstones were. The mysterious woman was kneeling on the soft dying grass, facing one of the small headstones. Her back to me, she looked stoic, almost like a part of the graveyard itself.
I slowed my pace, determined not to interrupt her as I passed. Off to the right, I spotted the same old farm road from the other day, and I picked up speed, enjoying the hot wet vibrations of the wind passing by. As I turned sharply, I took one last look back toward the cemetery. Expecting to see the stone-like woman, I was surprised to see her gone already.
She must live close by, I wondered, focusing back ahead.
Like I did a couple of days ago, I veered off the beaten path and slipped through the gap in the trees that led to the fence line.
My eyes traveled the length of its wires as I jogged in place, noting that the fence was twisted and bent in spots. Instead of running in the direction of town like I did the other day, I took a new route, going the opposite direction.
I’ll just follow the fence until it ends so I can see where it goes, I decided resolutely. It was silly and childish, but I suddenly felt this insatiable need to satisfy the curiosity burning inside me…and as I ran, I could feel the same high from last night returning. The touch and smell of Adam still clung to my skin…
Moving along the fence line, I tried to catch a glimpse of something behind the foliage, or the lake I thought I’d seen the other day, but after jogging nearly a mile, it was more of the same. I was in the middle of nowhere now. Peering up through the clearing, I could see a dirt road with no houses on it. Suddenly anxious, I stopped and listened. Would I hear that dog beyond the fence again? I’d almost forgotten about the barking… But I couldn’t hear anything besides the rustling of wind in the trees and the slight clinking sounds of the fence rattling.
A shockingly cold gust of wind blew right through my sweat-soaked hair, causing me to shiver. What had started out as a bright sunny day, was suddenly getting colder…and darker. The fence seemed to stretch for miles, and I was suddenly hit with a strange sense akin to walking in the desert. Is that the end of the fence line I see? Or is this some sort of twisted mirage?
But as I moved against the dank and chilly air, I saw what did in fact look like the end of the fence line. The fence itself curled around, moving in another direction. One spot in the fence looked open. It was shaking in the wind, the culprit of the clinking sounds I’d heard only moments earlier…
All of a sudden, I was running, eager to see. As I reached the corner where the fence turned, I realized it was loose. There was a tiny gap at the end, a jagged opening that looked to have been created by someone. A hole in the elusive fence. How can I resist going through it? The adult in me was sounding alarm bells, but the kid in me couldn’t resist…
The gap in the fence was more like a tear, and before I could change my mind, I did a quick look around to make sure I was alone, and then I tried to squeeze through the gap. The metal wires were jagged in spots, and even sucking in my small belly, I barely made it
through. The wires tore at my arms and torso, and once through, I stopped to observe my wounds, catching my breath. They were superficial, but bleeding. Thoughts of tetanus drifted through my mind, but I quickly tried to dispel them, using my shirt itself to wipe blood away from the tiny scratches.
On this side of the fence there was thick vegetation. Impulsively, I pushed through it, trying to stay as quiet as possible. I don’t see any ‘No Trespassing’ signs, but the fence made it very clear…I’m not supposed to be back here.
Sharp pointy sticks and roots clustered the dry earthy ground, so I took my time, pushing through the trees and prickly bushes. There was no sound; no birds, no nothing, as I entered the dense forest. Even the fence had stopped rattling behind me.
Hesitantly, I looked back in the direction of the fence, but couldn’t see it now through the murky wall of trees behind me I’d just passed through.
Darting forward through trees and overturned logs, I prayed that I wouldn’t get lost. I felt compelled to keep going, to see what lie ahead that was so important it had to be fenced in and kept secret like Fort Knox…
My heart nearly burst with relief as I saw the trees widening. I was approaching something…but what that something was, I couldn’t be certain.
But that’s when I heard it—soft babbling sounds of a creek or water source. Was this the water I spotted through the trees the other day?
Off to my right, the sound of water quickened, and I followed it like a beacon. A few yards later, I nearly stepped right up to the edge of the lake as it seemed to appear out of nowhere. Abruptly remembering my dream from last night, I recognized the same bright white blue water. Mist hovered like a blanket above it.
Standing at the water’s edge, I could see clear across to the other side of the lake. There were triangular shaped hills in the distance and a thick white fog hovering around them. I followed along the edge, my eyes immediately drawn to smooth white marble and stone, a building or monument of some sort standing in the distance. For a brief moment, I considered turning back…but I’d come this far. I had to see what else there was back here…
Nervously, I moved toward the stone building, and as I grew closer, I realized it had crumbling steps leading up to a flat empty square of space. Stealing up nearly three dozen stone steps, I went to the center of it, turning around in circles on the flat stone surface.
There were no picnic tables or statues, just an open gazebo-like platform. I didn’t shout, but I know if I did, my voice would have echoed for miles…
“Neat,” I said, feeling like I’d found my own treasure. I went back to the steps, plopping down on the top stair. From here, I could see the brilliant blue lake below, and although I was still not as high as the trees, I could see farther across the expanse of land on the other side of the lake. A massive gnarly twisted tree stood out from all the rest. Even from this far away, I could see that it dwarfed every other tree and plant around it.
It looked wicked cool, with massive long branches pointing in every direction. Nobody lives here. There are no houses. But someone must own this property. I wonder why they let it go…
“Miss?” The voice out here was so abrupt and shocking, that I screamed and jumped up, nearly tumbling down the high stony stairway.
I looked behind me toward the sound of the voice, surprised to see a boy standing on the flat square surface above. His head tilted to the side, taking in all of my features, as though he was trying to figure me out.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t know anyone was back h-here. You frightened me.”
“I didn’t know you were here either,” he said, his voice as a low as a whisper. His skin was white as milk, his hair and eyes nearly matching the shocking bright blue of the lake. If it wasn’t for the hollowed out cheeks and deep purplish marks beneath his eyes, he would have looked exquisite.
“I’m leaving. I just…needed to see what was back here.”
I stumbled a few steps forward, looking back at the boy.
“And now that you have, what do you think? Is it all that you expected?” His voice was so strange, as was his question, and I found myself getting scared. I was suddenly aware of how alone I was. He walked toward me, his feet silent. I realized he wasn’t wearing any shoes. His clothes were odd as well, faded dark cloth pants and a matching black shirt that looked homemade.
“Again, I’m sorry,” I muttered, jogging back down the steps, eager to leave.
“Wait,” said the man, who really was just a boy, my age or slightly younger. When I glanced back, his expression was sad now, as though I’d disappointed him.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Even though he was standing no more than ten feet away, his words vibrated against my skin. The question reminded me of Adam’s question the other day, and I felt my insides constrict.
“No. We’ve never met, I’m sure of that.” I’d never been so sure of anything…
“But that isn’t so.” He was smiling now, a secret curling up the edges of his lips, his words melodic.
Still moving down the steps, I was eager to get away from this stranger. A stranger who claims to know you, I reminded myself.
“N-no, I just moved here…I don’t know you…”
He was standing at the very top of the stone platform, his bare feet lined up with the edge. From here, he looked eight feet tall…and intimidating.
“I know you, Dorothea Landry. I always have.”
And with that, I was running, suddenly scared of the boy. I raced down the steps and back along the water’s edge, careful not to slip in, and when I found a decent-sized gap in the trees, I darted through. How did he know my name? That question pierced through my mind over and over as I ran. Fearful I wouldn’t find my way back to the fence, you can imagine my relief a few moments later, when I saw the glint of metal up ahead.
“Oh, thank God,” I cried, pressing my face and hands to the twisted metal. Keeping my hand on the fence, I followed it east, until I found the same jagged hole I came in through. I wiggled through hole, faster this time, and screeched as the metal tore straight through my shirt, slicing a deep cut in my belly.
But as soon as I was out, I kept running, looking back over my shoulder a few times for the boy. But he wasn’t there, and for that, I was grateful…
Featured Book: Midnight Moss
Hi, guys! I’m Carissa Ann Lynch, author of the Flocksdale Files trilogy, Horror High series, 13: An Anthology of Horror and Dark Fiction, Grayson’s Ridge, and This Is Not About Love. I like to write what I like to read—which is a little bit of everything!
How long have you been a writer and how did you come to writing?
I’ve always been obsessed with books, but I didn’t write my first complete novel until about five years ago. I couldn’t find a book to read, so I got this crazy idea—why not try to write my own story? It was harder than I thought, but I fell in love with the idea of being able to control the outcome of a story. It felt like reading, only I got to decide what happened next. I never expected to get a publishing contract, but once I did, there was no going back. I was hooked!
How did you come up with this storyline for Midnight Moss?
This story combines several ideas that have been rolling around in my head for a while. As a child, there was this section of our neighborhood that was mysteriously fenced off, so that’s where the “mysterious fence” comes into play. I also love the idea of old houses and magic keys, so I was able to use that in the story as well. I usually write horror and dark fiction, but I have a serious love for fantasy and paranormal stories, so this book was so much fun to write.
What are the best and the worst aspects of writing?
The best thing about writing is it’s like a drug for me. When I do it, I feel better. And as soon as I’m finished with one book, I’m ready to go looking for my next story idea, or “fix”. I can see that as being a good and bad thing. I get obsessed with a story while I’m writing, and I work on it compulsively. So, it can be a pretty exhausting process for me.
What inspires you to write?
Everything! Most writers will tell you that everything we see/hear/feel gets stored away in our memory banks to use later for our books. I like to write about serious social issues, but I also enjoy the escape of a magical story and light fun.
What would your friends say is your best quality?
I commit to things and do them all the way. I’m also loyal and I have a good memory, so I usually remember birthdays and old stories LOL.
Are reader reviews important to you?
I love when someone tells me that one of my books affected them, or made their day a little brighter. But I try not to get upset over bad reviews, and I don’t change my stories based on what readers want. I just write what I want to write, and hope that people will like it. But if not, that’s their choice. As a book lover myself, I know that some books everyone claims to love aren’t my favorite. I know I can’t be everyone’s favorite all of the time, and I’m okay with that.
What do you do when you don’t write?
I read A LOT. I prefer paperbacks and I always—ALWAYS—have a book with me everywhere I go. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t fall asleep with a book on my chest.
Tell us about your other books?
The Flocksdale Files is a dark trilogy about a twisted town filled with the worst kind of monsters—the humankind. The Horror High series is a three-book series about a creepy school nicknamed “Horror High” where the cheerleaders are constantly being taunted by
an unknown “sociopath.” My other books are women’s fiction, mystery, and paranormal.
If you could share one thing about yourself that you would like readers to know what would it be?
I would just tell them thank you. The fact that they took the time to read my book makes my heart soar, and means more to me than I could put into words.
That’s it for me, guys! I sincerely hope that you enjoy Midnight Moss as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Carissa Ann Lynch is the bestselling and award winning author of the Flocksdale Files trilogy, Horror High series, 13: An Anthology of Horror and Dark Fiction, Grayson’s Ridge, and This Is Not About Love. She writes horror, thriller, mystery, paranormal and dark women’s fiction. She lives in Floyds Knobs, Indiana.
Live ~ Laugh ~ Love
I’ve recently published my fifth novel. It’s no longer an idea, a dream, a goal or (and I hate to admit this) a frustration. It’s a book. I can hold it in my hand and flip through all those pages—the thousands of words neatly printed, side by side, barely representing the agony I went through to get them there.
Now that it’s over, I can finally sit back and congratulate myself for making it. Because until publication day—the finish line—everything else is just one tiny step in an impossible journey. And no matter how many times you’ve done it before, it doesn’t get easier. Of course, there are elements of certainty that only experience can bring. Like knowing you have the resilience to make it through the drafting phase and various edits, but with that experience also comes expectation. Because you’ve done it before, you expect yourself to do it faster, you want your characters to be stronger and your plot to be a thousand times more intriguing. But realistically, every book is different and they can’t be written the same way.
If I’d gone into this book with that in mind, perhaps I would have saved myself a lot of frustration. But if I’m being honest with myself, there’s truly no point working within your capabilities. How will you ever grow if you don’t stretch yourself?
Where it all began…
So back on June 6th 2013, I started working on my humble little ghost story. I’d recently fallen in love with ghost stories and plots that moved away from the mainstream concept. Like Anna Dressed in Blood and the Graveyard Queen Series. I took inspiration from those stories and set to work on my own book, using the well known concept of ghosts and twisting it into my own unique mythology.
I didn’t want to write about ghosts of dead people who linger around earth until their unfinished business is settled. What if instead, ghosts were an extension of the human psyche? Ghosts of the living, who have the power to manipulate and destroy human lives. Wouldn’t they be far more terrifying?
I wrote extensive notes about world building and really focused on creating a strong main character with an intriguing struggle. Daniel Barrow, a young man with a sad past, who’s evolved into a ruthless ghost hunter. I fell in love with the idea of a character who could be a complete badass and a competent killer, but who also has a unique vulnerability. He’s done terrible things but ultimately has good intentions, and he’s fighting for a noble cause.
Out of all the characters I’ve written, Daniel instantly became my favourite. Although I can’t directly relate to the horror of his past, I think we’ve all felt trapped by some element of our lives before. And while he accepts his dark fate, it’s his ongoing struggle for identity that really brings him to life.
When it got tough…
I’ve drafted novels in as little as four months before, but this book, this neat little package of pages, took a whopping 2.5 years from concept to publication. And to be honest, I truly resented the time it took while I was stuck in the middle. But now that I’m finally at the end, I can see that it took so long because it’s far more than one novel. It’s an entire education. I learnt so much in the process of creating this piece, from the fortnightly critiques from the ever inspiring Ellenbrook Writers Group, the seven beta readers who pulled this book apart and helped me glue it back together, the professional content editor and the TWELVE rounds of editing it took to get to the finished product. In the process of writing this book, I became a real writer, and there’s a whole team of people who supported the process. They know who they are, and I’ll never forget their lessons!
Aside from the technical elements of writing, I had a few personal speed bumps along the way too. And I can assure you, dealing with a complicated mythology is hard enough when you’re spending regular time working on it, but any extended breaks you have, make it virtually impossible to remember your place and they’re a huge step backwards! So add into the mix, a year of living packed to the rafters with five adults and a baby (let me add, it was a beautiful distraction to be surrounded by family and to watch my niece growing into a little lady), a house move and six months of hideous migraines, I lost my place time and time again and there were days where I really didn’t know how this book would ever be finished. But I slowed down and stopped expecting so much from myself. Gradually life got easier. I chipped away and I called in encouragement whenever I needed it. I finally finished this book and proved to myself that being passionate about something is always stronger than any obstacle.
Before I started this book, writing had always been a solo venture, but thanks to my writers group, I’m now surrounded by a wonderful group of extremely talented authors. These amazing people taught me how to use the English language in ways I hadn’t thought of before, they allowed me to understand how readers really think, they encouraged me when I struggled and were hard on me when I needed to be shown the truth. They’ve made me tougher, and wiser and one billion times better at doing what I love. And six weeks post publication, the response to The Ninth Hunter has been overwhelmingly positive. Every time I read a review that talks fondly about Daniel and his struggle, I smile and think, that’s my struggle too.
The Ninth Hunter – A Standalone Paranormal Thriller
Limited time release price – 99c. Read it for FREE on Kindle Unlimited.
These weren’t ghosts of the dead with unfinished business. They were something far more sinister.
Daniel Barrow is a ghost hunter bound to a life of misery; protecting the world from ghosts by killing their human hosts. He knows the rules: mark the targets, plot the crime scenes, and then murder those beyond saving. Daniel’s safe in his rituals—until he meets Faye Michaels.
Faye isn’t his average target and her ghosts threaten to destroy everything he has worked for. When his ritual goes wrong, Daniel must create an uneasy alliance with the woman he intended to kill. But the deeper they dig, the closer they get to a dangerous secret that will change their lives forever.
Daniel must make a choice: fulfil his duty, or turn his back on those he has come to trust. Can the truth lead him to salvation?
This was uncharted territory. In all his years of ghost hunting he’d always taken solace in the fact that the ghosts couldn’t physically reach him. Now the rules didn’t stand and he had to be prepared for anything.
Daniel shut the door gently in the hope they wouldn’t be interrupted. He took a mirror from his pocket and searched for the ghosts. They had to know he had arrived but there was no sign of them yet. Perhaps they had a more calculated approach this time. One thing was certain—they wouldn’t let him kill Faye without a fight.
A groan sounded behind the curtain and his throat dried out. He’d never had to face a victim after he’d attacked them and it wasn’t just that he feared the girl’s reaction; he didn’t know exactly how it would make him feel.
He dropped the tablet into the medicine cup and pulled the curtain aside. Faye was asleep with the bed propped up to prevent her neck extending too far. A thick bandage covered her wound. The surrounding skin a mix of yellow and purple. Daniel remembered the way her skin had split beneath his knife, the thought creating a sense of heaviness in his chest.
Faye’s eyes shot open, almost as though she sensed his anxiety, her breath rapid in the otherwise silent room. At first, Daniel couldn’t move, sure she was about to scream. Instead she blinked, her eyes glassy from medication.
He swallowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Could he pull his blade out faster than she could call for help? She stared and he waited, each beat of his heart emphasising the slow seconds as the pressure in Daniel’s throat built up, spreading all the way to his jaw. He had to distract her, but the sight of her blue—and somehow bottomless—eyes froze him.
For one small moment he was moved. He wanted to whisper an apology, to have her know she hadn’t done anything wrong—it wasn’t her fault she was haunted. But there was no space for thoughts like that; he had to concentrate on his task.
He forced a smile to his lips. “I’m on a medication round, thought I’d see how you were.”
Faye didn’t answer. She looked to the window, the reflection showing two ghosts hovering on either side of her.
“Do you feel okay?” he asked, searching for a clue of what might be going through her head.
Faye’s voice came out hoarse. “A little sick.”
Perhaps she didn’t remember him after all. Daniel tried to relax his posture as he took the chart from the end of the bed. Hopefully the drug he was about to give her wouldn’t interact too badly with the morphine recorded on her medication chart. Still, he had to take the chance. He didn’t want her revealing anything to the police—sometimes the smallest piece of information was all they needed to catch a killer.
“This tablet will help with the nausea.”
Faye watched as he poured water into her cup, her expression filled with turmoil. He’d always found it easy to play whatever part he needed, but this situation was like nothing he’d experienced before. He’d never felt more like a killer. If she had her wits about her she might have recognised his discomfort but he forced a smile once more and pushed the cup closer. She looked at him, her eyes cautious before she swallowed the tablet and took a drink.
Daniel picked up the water jug. “I’ll fill this up.”
He turned the tap in the bathroom and lifted his gaze to the mirror, startled to see a ghost standing right behind him. Despite the bristle of hair and the deep-rooted feeling that he wasn’t safe, the energy reminded him of what it was like to be human. The rest of the time he was just a shell.
Opaque skin barely covered the ghost’s veins and her detailed form made her more human-like than the others. Her eyes weren’t the regular white, but rather the deep blue of night, and her hair a harsh white instead of mottled brown. At first he was bewitched, her edges shimmering as she leaned in and brushed against his shoulder. He jolted; disturbed by the distance she’d travelled away from Faye. This must have been what Lamont spoke about. They weren’t bound by rules anymore. Daniel turned to the side, keeping his eyes on the mirror as the hair on his arms lifted and he thought about all the times a ghost had pulled him through the veil. He couldn’t let that happen now; these ghosts were too powerful to risk entering their realm.
He pressed one hand against the knife at his waist as he reached out to touch her. A chill spread up his hand before the creature flashed and disappeared. He waited to see if she would come back, but the mirror showed only his own pale face and an empty bathroom behind him.
Daniel paused to force away memories from when he was haunted. The ghost had reminded him how it felt to have your every move tracked, the rushing in your veins when you knew they were behind you. He splashed water on his face. Everything about this job felt wrong. He was losing himself, and if he didn’t figure something out soon, Faye Michaels would be his undoing.
Q & A with the author
Can you start by telling us what inspired you to write this book?
When I finished working on my last set of books, The Shadow Series, I was looking for a new story to write. At the time I was reading a lot of ghost stories, like the amazing, Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake, and The Graveyard Queen Series by Amanda Stevens. I really loved their style of combining ghosts with unique plots I hadn’t come across before. That was exactly what I wanted to create; a story that no one had ever read.
Creating my own mythology has been incredibly challenging, but I’m glad this book stands apart from others in its genre.
Why would readers like this book?
I think The Ninth Hunter appeals to a wide variety of readers. Although I classify the book as a standalone paranormal thriller for adults, I think it’s also suited to a younger audience. Young adult and new adult are my favourite to read and that’s what I had in mind when I wrote this book. The characters are a little too mature to fit into that category but younger readers will still be able to identify with the main character’s struggle for identity.
I’m a big fan of mixed genres so this book has something for everyone. It’s a fast-paced, action-packed thriller but I’ve also added a touch of romance, a pinch of horror and an unusual plot, which could almost pass as fantasy.
Who was your favourite character to write?
The main character, Daniel Barrow, wins this hands down! He’s such a complex guy, and probably the first murderer you’ll genuinely feel sorry for. Although he’s done terrible things, he’s trapped in a life of misery and at the core, he wants to do the right thing. He’s an incredibly flawed hero (anti-hero even?), but he’s so good at his job which makes him a complete badass at the same time. While I truly love, Faye, his strong female sidekick, I think her strength somehow adds to Daniel’s vulnerability and that only makes me love him more.
And finally, what does it mean to you, to have this book published?
Although I’ve previously published a set of four paranormal/fantasy novels, this book is by far my favourite. It’s definitely the most challenging story I’ve written and it’s been a long time in the making, but I’m hoping I’ve captured a unique story and created characters that readers will love.
I’m so excited to finally share the brand new cover for my upcoming release! I’ve been working on this book for so long and it’s such an amazing feeling to be sharing it with the world once and for … Continue reading