Showing posts with label horror. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horror. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Soul Reaper by Crymsyn Hart
Cover Artist: Anastasia Rabiyah
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance/ Horror
Length: Novel, 92,655 Words, PDF Pages 268
ISBN: 978-1-936165-73-5
Release Date: 1-12-2011
Heat Level: Erotic
Warnings: Violence/ Bisexual
http://purplesword.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=72
Can a vampire trust an angel, when that angel is Death?
Time has taken Brenna back to Boston, to the Tearoom, the place she whispered her first psychic predictions. Things are different now. While struggling to hang onto her humanity, she must discover why an angel has been imparting cryptic messages to her. Confusing as his riddles are, they make sense in the end, leading Brenna to Miranda.
Miranda’s had a haunting nightmare for years. The one constant is a gorgeous man, Julien, who whispers in her dreams. She doesn’t expect him to be her nightmare made flesh. Not until she comes home and finds her friends murdered does she realize she’s the vampire’s new target.
While Brenna is deeply in love with Veronica, she finds herself attracted to her angelic messenger. Fighting the pull toward him, she must risk her very soul to save Miranda. If she fails, all she holds dear will be destroyed. And if she succeeds then her whole life will change.
EXCERPT:
We chose to sit in the room off to our right. Tables and chairs were strewn around the room, many large enough for six to eight people. Then there were the tables for two, but the big attractions were the three ovenlike apertures to sit in. We chose one that was open. I plopped down in the cushy chair as Veronica put her coat on the chair opposite me.
“I’m going up to order. You want the usual?”
I nodded, remembering the first time Veronica and I had met in New Orleans. Our worlds had collided when she thought I was a vampire, and I assumed she was human. How simple life had been then. The world had been different when I was mortal, when all that mattered was getting what I wanted.
Veronica walked off as I settled back in the chair. Stretching my senses, I felt the minds of the humans pressing against mine. Their thoughts filtered through my head like radio stations changing too quickly. Losing myself in the noise, I caught glimpses here and there of their lives. As I did, I sensed something familiar. It was the same presence I’d felt earlier in the Tearoom. It only lasted a moment, then it retreated like it had been caught. Maybe it was some errant ghost following me, and now it would leave me alone. I pushed the presence from my thoughts and got lost once again in the distraction of the human minds until Veronica returned. As I let myself go, I didn’t hear my lover sit down. It wasn’t until the table hit my knee that I opened my eyes.
“Hey, how was—”
Veronica wasn’t the one sitting across from me. A man dressed in a black trench coat, black shirt and pants stared at me. His skin was white, almost as pale as mine was. Dark hair fell in waves to his shoulders while his eyes held the knowledge of endless time. His clear, pointed nails caressed the ends of the chair. His face was expressionless, passionless, as always, and his two pointed teeth rested on lips the color of bleached roses. This creature was no vampire, but the Angel of Death.
I sighed, wondering what he wanted. His appearances were always full of puzzling conversation, as he popped up at the most inconvenient times. Something about him irritated me, but I could never pinpoint what it was.
Hello, Brenna. It’s nice to see you too, Azrael said. His voice was flat but melodic as it burrowed into my mind.
“What are you doing here, Azrael?” I asked impatiently.
I assumed you might desire my company. You seemed lonely just a moment ago as you sought solace in the minds of the humans at this establishment.
My temper flared as he sat before me. It didn’t matter if he was an angel. There was just something about him. Like other angels, his energy was bright, fluttering across my skin like warm sunlight. There was also a slight chill that sank down to my bones, but that was his own special signature, since he was the Angel of Death.
He was the first angel I’d actually had a conversation with. However, I never got a straight answer from Azrael, so I’d stopped asking questions. Whenever I glimpsed other angels, they smiled, but were gone in a rush. Angels existed in a different dimension than humans, and normally weren’t perceived unless they wanted to be. Fairies were the same way. Humans saw the beings for something other than what they truly were. Since I’d become a vampire, I’d been able to see all these different creatures, but I’d kept this ability to myself and never told Veronica. I assumed she didn’t have the power.
Your intuition seems to be flourishing. Your companion is as beautiful as ever.
“What do you want, Azrael?” I asked again.
He smiled, showing more of his teeth. His canines made me wonder if he was something of a vampire himself, maybe living off the souls he collected.
Dead roses are the ultimate flora to adorn the remains of the deceased. In the end, it is in darkened dungeons that Destiny makes herself known.
“Is that all you came to say?” I growled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Can’t you just once appear, or go poof, or whatever you do, and—”
He leaned over the table, placing his hand on mine. A chill entered my heart, circulating throughout my body. It became hard to breathe as he held me in his thrall. His eyes burned with a blue fire that imprinted itself in my mind. It seemed like a star had detonated in his eyes, and the cold of space filled me. Liquid ice replaced my blood as the shards ripped my veins to shreds. My heart stopped in mid-beat as I froze from the inside, but it was so frigid it burned away my rage. That was his point. He’d never touched me before, never done anything except give me cryptic advice. But crypts were his territory.
Those close to you are only elements in your own destiny. You are the key. Think before I descend on your doorstep again.
The chair was empty.
Veronica walked toward me, holding two cups of steaming liquid.
“Brenna, are you all right?”
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
New Release: Masquerade Crymsyn Hart
Soul Reaper Series I
Crymsyn Hart
ISBN 978-1-936165-61-2
Word Count: 82367
PDF Page Count: 239
Heat Index: Erotic
Does this book contain violence? Yes
Genre(s): Paranormal Erotic Romance/Vampire
Buy Link: http://purplesword.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=65
Even behind the mask, no one is what they seem.
Brenna has been in the shadows for years. Veronica has been trying to escape her ex forever. Each is living lives they never assumed would be theirs. Each is hiding behind a mask they never desired to wear.
True love has finally come to Brenna in the guise of Cain. Before she can fully realize her affections, her life is shattered by something that steps out of the darkness. This intrusion threatens her growing relationship.
Veronica stumbles into Brenna and her world is thrown upside down. Drawn to a woman she doesn't know. She sees Brenna's growing affection for Cain as a hindrance. She tries to warn Brenna that not all is what it seems. However, she doesn't want to listen and now danger is on their doorstep. Veronica's ex, Devon, has caught up with her.
Will Brenna and Veronica survive their ordeal? Will Devon come for them both? Or will all masks finally come off?
Excerpt:
My name is Brenna.
The heaviness of the atmosphere rolled around my tongue, lingering in my nose like a fine vintage of wine. It was a hot, humid day. Clothes stuck to every inch of skin, and a sane person hungered for a shower after the slightest exertion. Traces of spices and sweat clung to the fragrance of the day as exotic food was prepared on every corner. Even a hint of magic wafted on the day's aroma. Spells had been cast to bar intruders and ignite passionate love affairs.
As these scents carried me into consciousness, a slight breeze blew through the Quarter, pulling the bouquets of the day with it. My nostrils flared at the odor on the back of the wind: the wet, dark, musty smell of death and an oncoming storm. Death was part of the culture here, always lingering like the ghosts in the city. Rain came often, but never lasted more than an hour or so, making this place more like a tropical paradise than a bustling city. Even the downpours couldn't keep the sightseers from exploring the small shops, as well as admiring the balconied apartments in the Quarter. Many were small oases, housing lush plants, which allowed the inhabitants to escape from the cameras and voyeurs. I inhabited one of these sought-after lodgings, but kept the windows shuttered so the sun couldn't creep in and disrupt my slumber.
I rose, yawning as the heaviness of sleep had not yet left me. Darkness caressed my naked form while the whirling fan cooled my bare skin. Stretching, I urged my body to rise and face the night. I opened the shutters to see the sun painting hues of purple and pink in the hazy air, signaling the fast approaching blue-greens of twilight. I smiled. This was the scene that had greeted me for years. I flicked on the light. I shielded my eyes from the sudden illumination until my pupils adjusted.
I admired my body in the bureau mirror. The overhead lamp gave my milky skin a jaundiced tint that contrasted against the pink of my nipples. My appearance attracted both sexes; it was something in the pheromones. The sex of my partners didn't matter. I only wanted the ones who could fulfill my desire.
The jasmine-touched breeze danced through my apartment as the coolness of full night blossomed like a moonflower inside my chest. I stretched, now entirely awake as the sluggishness of the day fell away like a misty shroud. The moon's silvery light already warmed my skin. Its blaze had replaced the sun in my memories and the power of it ignited my heart, night after glorious night.
Staring at my body a moment longer, I realized tonight was not the night for me to turn into Narcissus and be captured by my own beauty. I had eons for that. My gums ached, and hollowness filled my insides. Tonight I'd dress to kill, so to speak. I donned a black velvet dress, black thigh-high stockings, and black Doc Martens.
My gaze fell on the things I would need to complete my disguise. A contact case and scattered makeup: everything I needed to fit in better. From the lot, my tarot cards called to me. I smiled, wondering what Fate had in store for me tonight. Mentally, I checked my schedule and knew I had no clients to read. No one to tell a husband was cheating, or a sickness was devouring them, or a fortune would be lost in the stock market.
I smirked at the thought of how easily I peered into the minds of my clients, divining their futures and reading their emotions. After one session, they always came back. I had a good reputation, unlike the phony psychics who lined Jackson Square. Hotel managers and local occult shops referred tourists to me. I loved unearthing secrets from my unsuspecting clients.
I studied the cobalt backs, admiring the golden stars. I had owned them for years. My right hand passed over the line of cards, automatically settling on one in the middle and then another at the end. Energy sparked between the cards and my palm. I pulled those two cards to see how the evening would progress and to give me a glimpse into the more distant future. The first card I flipped was the Lovers. It signified I would meet someone to spend eternity within the next couple of nights.
Yeah, right! I giggled, wondering who my next conquest would be.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
New Release: Friday Night
Liam Drake
ISBN 978-1-936165-62-9
Word Count: 15569
PDF Page Count: 55
Heat Index: Erotic
Does this book contain violence? Yes
Genre(s): Paranormal Erotic Romance/Werewolf/Halloween
Buy Link: http://purplesword.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=63
Tagline:
Jack has a secret, a shady past, a jilted lover. So many reasons to avoid…Friday night.
Blurb:
Jack's been on the run all his life, always the submissive, always the man taking the fall, with no one solid to hold onto. But since his bad breakup with his ex, a werewolf with a penchant for cruelty and domination, things have been changing. The wolf in Jack wants out, and he isn't as yielding as the man. When Jack's new interest asks for an intimate date on Friday night, one day before the next full moon, Jack needs to decide who's in charge, man or wolf.
Excerpt:
“You're blushing,” he said.I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. Had to keep the libido in check.
His other hand came across the table and took hold of my fingers. “I am looking forward to Friday night,” he said. “To having you all to myself, not out in the open. I think maybe…you will let yourself out when it's the two of us. You'll stop being so cautious. No?”
I shook my head. “Maybe. Hell, I don't know.”
“We can't keep running for the rest of our lives. We have to try again, Jack. Why not now? Why not you? Why not me? We know what it's like to be hurt. To run. To feel like we are not worth more than dirt.” He winced when he said that last part, obviously haunted by his past as much as I was haunted by mine. “I won't hurt you.” He grinned, all seriousness gone from his eyes when he whispered, “Not unless you ask me to.”
“Ha.” I squeezed his hand, imagining the possibilities, ready to make up monthly lies to hide why I'd be gone every full moon. Desperate for companionship. Hopeless.
I stayed with him while he ate his lunch. Every lick of the fork or suck he made on his lower lip only increased my torture, my lust for the man sitting in front of me. He talked about work, about his boss and the old woman that answered phones for the company. He liked the old woman a lot. Called her Nana as if she were his grandmother. He talked about his little sister who would be coming to visit him any day now and now I understood why he had asked me about liking women.
“When's the last time you saw her?” I asked.
“Seven years. Our stepfather was evil to Maria. He was abusive to the both of us. It's worse for a girl I think.” Pain transformed his stern features into something crushing, ultimate sorrow and regret. “My sister is stronger than me,” he said in a low growl. “She survived. She stayed there after I ran away. She is the strongest person I know.” He pushed his empty plate aside and frowned. “You will meet her, Jack. You will see what I mean. I've told her about you.”
He glanced at his watch and shook his head, blue-black hair shining beneath the fluorescent lights. “Have to go.”
We both stood.
He closed in.
Every cautionary instinct fired off inside me. Run. RUN!
His arms clutched my body, barring me to him as he turned his face to one side and pressed his firm lips to my mouth. I was trapped. I was scared. I was afraid of being hurt again. The wolf in me shivered and whined. Then, with a defeated whimper, the wolf submitted. Heat washed over my skin.
I kissed back.
Raul broke away and left me standing there as he rushed out back to work. It wasn't weird for men to kiss each other here. It was a gay bar after all. But it was weird for me to be kissed like that. Out in the open. Forcefully with passion, not trickery.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
New Release : Airlocked
Airlocked
Bret Jordan
ISBN 978-1-936165-46-9
Price: 3.99
Release Date: June 2, 2010
Word Count: 24k
PDF Page Count: 70
Heat Index: Sweet
Does this book contain violence? Yes
Genre(s): Science Fiction/Romance/Horror
Search Words (at least 20): science fiction, space exploration, romance, spaceship, starship, horror, starvation, zero gravity, stranded, computer, artificial intelligence, AI, tech, space, stars, weightless, float, deep space, cryo, cryogenics, cannibalism, death, space station, alone, cannibal, abandoned, drift
Tagline: Abandoned in deep space brings some together while driving others over the edge, but that is just the beginning of their troubles…
Blurb: One hundred and fifty years in the future humans are finally reaching out to the stars. Though capable of deep space travel humanity is still an infant among the void and things can go horribly wrong in the blackness of infinity.
The crew of the Valkyrie awakens from their cryogenic sleep early - months early. The Valkyrie wasn’t made for long-term habitation, a cargo carrier engineered to be lived in for only a few hours on each side of a transport run. Now the crew is forced to learn to live together in an environment where the average room is the size of a closet and the corridors almost touch their shoulders as they pass. Two of the crewmembers are drawn together in a closeness they never thought they would find, but the other crewmember falls over the edge of sanity in the face of the cold void surrounding them. Dwight and Victoria soon realize that the tight quarters are the least of their problems…
Excerpt:
Vicky told him about her career as a medical officer. She talked about her hectic four-year training at the Armstrong medical facility on the moon. They laughed as she told him of some of her more colorful instructors and the occasional pranks the students would play on one another. Dwight perked up when she talked about Daniel Destephano, the man she almost went into a two-year marriage contract with.“Why didn’t you marry him? It’s obvious that you liked him. Did you get a high dollar contract to ship out that messed it up, or maybe it’s the commitment that you don’t care for?”
Vicky smiled and squinted her eyes. “Are you teasing me?”
False shock and indignation flooded Dwight’s face. “Moi? Never!”
She laughed. “Okay, since you weren’t teasing me, I’ll tell you. I caught him in bed with my best friend.”
He cringed. “Ouch.”
“Ouch is right. Daniel and my friend apologized over and over again, claiming that it was a momentary lapse in judgment. I didn’t care. He had hurt me and so had my best friend. He’s the reason I started taking these deep space runs after graduation. I didn’t want to be around anyone, and I figured the deep space runs were the best way to do that. It’s what I’ve been doing ever since.”
Vicky pulled her feet from the straps, grabbed Dwight’s arm, and swung herself around until she hovered in front of him. “Okay, Mr. Larson. Do you have any loves of your life that you would like to share with me?”
Oh, hell no! He thought. All of his loves had begun late in the night at a bar and ended as soon as he woke up the next morning. His relationships were nothing to brag about, at least not with her. “There’s really nothing to tell. I’ve dated, but that’s it. I guess I’ve never been in any place long enough to have a relationship.”
“That’s kind of sad.”
Yeah, tell me about it.
“If we make it through this, do you think you and I might have one?”
Dwight put his hand in hers. Their fingers interlocked and squeezed. “First off, it is when we make it through this. Secondly, the last few days with you have been the closest thing I’ve had to a relationship in years. I like it and would like to see more of it.”
She squeezed his hand and smiled then leaned forward and gave him a coy kiss on the lips. Their lips touched for only a second, but the feeling lingered. It was a good feeling. It touched him inside with an emotion that he hadn’t felt in years if ever. He released her hand and slipped his arm around her waist. His head tilted forward. Her eyes closed and her lips parted slightly.
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