INTERVIEW WITH SEAN MICHAEL (Born of Air)

 

So... how did May work out for you? Weather wise? Life wise? Hope both were sunny, but I suspect there were a few clouds involved for all of us.

Today we have author Sean Michael dropping by to chat about his book BORN OF AIR. But first, we asked him our three fave questions:

SC: Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.

SM: Corryn is a Fae who has been sent to the earth to care for the Beteferoce brothers and help them find their soul mates. He’s also the soul mate of the eldest of the dragon shifting brothers. Unfortunately, Mike was hurt by a Fae when he was young and has turned his back on the entire race, which puts Corryn in an awkward and sad position. He’s a sweetheart and a submissive, but he has a backbone and a strong will.

SC:Fae, I don't care what other people say, you can never truly trust them.  Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?

SM: I definitely believe there are things out there that we can’t explain. When I first moved into the house I currently live in (about 13 years ago) I believe there was a ghost of a little boy there. I used to wake up in the middle of the night and see a form on the ceiling and knew it was him, so it didn’t scare me.This went on for about four years. He’s gone now, though and I believe he found a better place.

SC: I'm glad you weren't afraid of him. Who knows, maybe he just liked hanging with you.What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?

SM: I have just turned in the fifth and last book in the Dragon Soul series. I kind of feel a little restless to have the series finished, but I’ve got plans to explore stories featuring the other types of shifters that are hinted at in the Dragon Soul books. I’ve also got an idea for another series, this one featuring the Greek Gods trying to deal with life and love in today’s world.

SC: Thanks so much for stopping by today, Sean. Let's take a look at your title now.

Born of Air

Dragon Soul Series

Book Four

Sean Michael

Genre: Erotic Romance, M/M, Fantasy

Publisher: Carina Press

Date of Publication: 06/04/2018

ISBN: 9781488024368

ASIN: B07B519L19

Number of pages: 315

Word Count: 143,970

Book Description:

Meet the Beteferoce brothers: five dragon shifters, each with a strong elemental power. And each with a fierce desire to find his soul mate…

He said he was flying on a silver dragon. He called me “Markus-meine.” Who would know all that? Who? And how?

SWAT cop and dragon shifter Mark Beteferoce had—and lost—a soul mate. He’s finally at the point where he can get through the days without thinking about what used to be…until he tastes Quincy O’Brien’s doughnuts and takes him home to play.

Quincy O’Brien is a gifted baker, but at night he dreams of soaring through the sky on dragonback and being topped by the perfect Dom. Mark satisfies the kinky urges Quincy has only explored in his subconscious, pushing his limits and caring for him afterward.

From the start, their connection was more than sexual. It’s known; it’s familiar somehow. And it’s slowly driving Mark insane. What shouldn’t be possible most certainly is, and the bond between himself and Quincy runs deeper than either of them could ever have realized.

Amazon     BN

Excerpt:

“We’re ready. Go ahead and open for the day.” Quincy slid the last tray of doughnuts into the case as his sister headed for the door, the smell of sugar thick on the air.

The Aerie Bakery had been in business for four gen¬erations and it felt good every morning, seeing the little line of people waiting for breakfast and coffee. Quincy felt that this was what he’d been born to do. Kneading dough and feeding people came as naturally as breath¬ing.

“Opening now,” Barb warned him so he was braced for the first flood of customers. There was a line today, as there was most mornings. The next hour was busy. Many of the customers were regulars he and Barb knew well enough to ask about the latest regarding work or family and friends. Maybe the chatter slowed the line down, but only marginally and they more than made up for it with repeat customers who really felt like they were valued, which they were. After the first hour, he and Barb got a wee bit of a break, enough time for them to take a breather and bring out the second round of trays.

“I think we’ll be sold out by eleven, Quince.”

He nodded to Barb. “I think you’re right.” That worked for him. He’d been working since three a.m. to get things ready for the morning rush.

A couple of cops came in, SWAT by the looks of their uniforms. One of them, Tom, was a regular who came in for two dozen doughnuts almost every day. Not to be stereotyping or anything, but the Halifax cops did love his doughnuts.

“I tell you, Mark, you need to get laid,” Tom said, making his friend roll his eyes.

“That’s your answer to everything.” Mark was huge: big, broad shoulders and a deep voice that Quincy swore he felt in his belly.

Yummy.

There was no way this guy had a problem getting laid.

He gave them a smile. “It’s not a bad answer. Hey, Tom.”

“Hey, Quincy. It’s not a bad answer at all. It’s a great answer.” Tom chuckled and turned to his friend. “Mark, this is Quincy—the baker of the most amazing dough¬nuts in town. Quincy, this is Mark, he’s on the team.”

Mark nodded to him. “Good to meet you. We do re¬ally like your doughnuts. They don’t last long when¬ever Tom brings them in.” Eyes the color of a stormy sky took him in.

“I love to hear that. You want two dozen assorted?”

“We do. And I’d like a half dozen of the square ones with raisins in a separate box, please.”

Tom smirked. “Mark’s addicted.”

“I am not. I just know what I like.” Mark was look¬ing right at Quincy as he said it.

“That’s a great quality in a man.”

About the Author:

Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and persuing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to "Chicago."

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/452671.Sean_Michael

http://seanmichaelwrites.com/

https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWrites

https://twitter.com/seanmichael09

https://www.pinterest.ca/seanmichael2013/

COVER REVEAL: DEEPEST MIDNIGHT (Clara Winter)

Tuesday is not one of my favourite days of the week. Sort of a crash and burn day from Monday's meltdown. But here's something to look forward to. A sneak peak at Clara Winter's new project, Deepest Midnight.

Deepest Midnight

The Immortal Kindred Series

Book One

Clara Winter

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Inkspell Publishing

Date of Publication: June 25, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-945910-64-7

Number of pages: 162

Word Count: 48,903

Tagline: True love never dies

Book Description:

True love never dies. At least it doesn’t for Millicent, a once French noblewoman turned immortal vampire. Her big problem is that the love of her life was murdered before she was granted immortality. Forever is a long time to live in despair. 240 years later, she happens upon an English actor named Jack, who happens to look exactly like her dead lover.

Trying to figure out Jack’s true soul identity becomes complicated by her own uncertainty, Jack’s mortality, and the other man in Millicent’s life. Alexandre, her maker and companion, isn’t going to make it too easy for her. Millicent must decide if she’s going to continue to be led by others or take the reins and drive the outcome of her life.

Deepest Midnight is set in modern day Savannah, Ga with occasional glimpses back to 18th century France.

About the Author:

Clara Winter grew up reading Anne of Green Gables, The Secret Garden, and Alice in Wonderland, while watching Buck Rogers, Star Trek, and Doctor Who. Writing her own stories naturally ensued. She is a wife, mother, and former school counselor, with a Master’s Degree in Counseling. Amy is from Colorado Springs, Co and currently resides in Mission Viejo, Ca. 

https://twitter.com/ClaraWinter10

https://www.instagram.com/clara_winter_writer/

https://www.facebook.com/clarawinterwriter1/

http://clarawinterbooks.com

INTERVIEW WITH JESSICA REDMERSKI (Everything Under the Sun)

Here we are, it's almost June. Summer calendars are beginning to fill up with weddings, camping trips and general summer shenanigans. We're lucky Jessica Redmerski had time to stop in and chat today. Read on.

 

SC: When did you first realize that you wanted to become a writer?

JR: I started my first novel at the age of thirteen and I’ve been writing ever since. Writing has been the one consistent thing throughout my life and I can’t imagine life without it.

SC: What would you say is your most interesting writing quirk?

JR: I never stop writing for the day at the end of a scene or sentence, but instead right in the middle of them. This helps me prevent writer’s block and keeps my mind fresh.

SC: Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?

JR: I don’t have a favorite – I have several! Anne Rice and Neil Gaiman I have admired for many years. I love Rice’s deep, descriptive style and Gaiman’s unique ideas. But I also love Paullina Simons and Cormac McCarthy – there are just so many! And, of course, there’s J.K. Rowling, but I don’t really have to name her, do I? Isn’t she everybody’s favorite by default? 😊

SC: Besides writing, what do you like to do in your free time?

JR: Of course, I love to read. I also love the outdoors (hiking, swimming, biking, tennis, etc.), and binge-watching television series’.

SC: Sounds like you are a busy gal, we'd better let you get back to it. Let's take a look at your title now.

Everything Under the Sun
Jessica Redmerski

Genre: Dystopian YA/NA Crossover

Date of Publication: August 28, 2017

ISBN: 1546413081

ASIN: B074W372G6

Number of pages: 657

Word Count: 203K

Cover Image by Perrywinkle Photography

Cover Design by Okay Creations

Tagline: Can love survive in such dark times, or is it fated to die with them?

Book Description:

Thais Fenwick was eleven-years-old when civilization fell, devastated by a virus that killed off the majority of the world’s population. For seven years, Thais and her family lived in a community of survivors deep in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. But when her town is attacked by raiders, she and her blind sister are taken away to the East-Central Territory where she is destined to live the cruel and unjust kind of life her late mother warned her about.

Atticus Hunt is a troubled soldier in Lexington City who has spent the past seven years trying to conform to the vicious nature of men in a post-apocalyptic society. He knows that in order to survive, he must abandon his morals and his conscience and become like those he is surrounded by. But when he meets Thais, morals and conscience win out over conformity, and he risks his rank and his life to help her. They escape the city and set out together on a long and perilous journey to find safety in Shreveport, Louisiana.

Struggling to survive in a world without electricity, food, shelter, and clean water, Atticus and Thais shed their fear of growing too close, and they fall hopelessly in love. But can love survive in such dark times, or is it fated to die with them?

Kindle     Paperback

  
Excerpt 3

“Why are you so angry, Atticus?” My voice was soft and concerned now.

He blinked, but offered no response.

“I’ve seen men fight before,” I went on, “but I’ve never seen a man as angry at the world as you are. The way you beat that man in your room”—I shook my head with despondency—“the one just now; Atticus, you’re just so full of rage and hate. Why?”

He snorted, as if he’d found my question ridiculous.

“Why?” he mocked incredulously, holding out his hands, palms up. “I’ll tell you why, Thais: at every turn someone wants to rob or maim or kill us; we can’t sleep, night or day, without the thought in our heads as we close our fucking eyes that we might not wake up.” He gestured his arms wildly, his features constricted with indignation. “We’re covering our shit up like animals, sleeping in ditches, watching over our shoulder every second of every day for the chaos to grab us by the ankles and pull us down with it—and you ask why?”

I sat against my quilt, unable to stand to hear this truth. And as if his movements depended on mine, Atticus fell into a crouch in front of me, bouncing on the toes of his boots. I never looked away from the pull of his gaze, trapped by the intensity of it.

“I haven’t slept since you arrived in Lexington City,” he went on. “When I saw you that day, clutching your sister as she was ripped away from you; when you lay on the sidewalk, begging me to help you—it did two things to me, Thais”—he held up two fingers, and then dropped them between his legs—“it fucking killed me; the things I had to do, the part I had to play in not only your fate, but the fate of every girl in those ropes—it fucking killed me! It killed what little was left of my humanity!” His voice had risen with his heated words, his memories, but then he paused to calm himself, lowering his head but for a moment.

I remained motionless, speechless, but my heart began to ache and fill up at the same time. I listened raptly to every word, my heart breaking as he spoke them.

“It killed me,” he repeated. “But then something reached into Hell, grabbed me by the throat and pulled me back. I died that day in the street, Thais Fenwick; I died and then there I was, looking down at you with the eyes of the man I used to be, and I wanted to help you. I still fought with myself after that, but I wasn’t going to let you die or be raped or forced to marry a man you didn’t love—I didn’t know what to do, but I was going to do something, goddammit.”

I sighed. I wanted to hold him, but all I could do was sigh.

About the Author:

Jessica Redmerski is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author, international bestseller, and award winner, who juggles several different genres. She began self-publishing in 2012, and later with the success of THE EDGE OF NEVER, signed on with Grand Central Publishing/Forever Romance. Her works have been translated into more than twenty languages.

Jessica is a hybrid author who, in addition to working with a traditional publisher, also continues to self-publish. Her popular crime and suspense series, In the Company of Killers, has been optioned for television in the United States by actor and model William Levy, and a film exclusive to the Dominican Republic.

She also writes as J.A. Redmerski.

Web Site: http://jessicaredmerski.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5437976.J_A_Redmerski

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JRedmerski

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SPIRIT CAUGHT ON SLS CAMERA SUNDAY NIGHT AT THE STANLEY

 

So some of you know that I am a member of a paranormal group, Vancouver Supernatural, which shouldn't be surprising given the name of this blog. Last Sunday we were invited back to the Stanley Theatre on Granville Street, a lovely old theatre that used to run movies, and was saved from redevelopment by the Arts Club, and now runs live theatre.

 



 

 

As I mentioned, this was not our first time investigating the theatre. It's very active. The employees believe there are at least three spirits there. We seem to have caught one on our SLS camera. It likes to dance. (An SLS camera, for those who don't know, works like an XBOX Kinect, it maps people out). The flashing light is one of our investigators with a EMF meter beside it. Interesting stuff!

 

 

We thank the Stanley Theatre group for the opportunity.

SPOTLIGHT: AVENGED BY A HIGHLAND LAIRD by Sky Purington

It's time to say hello again to author Sky Purington. Today we're taking a look at "AVENGED BY A HIGHLAND LAIRD" Book for in The MacLomain Series.

Avenged by a Highland Laird

The MacLomain Series

A New Beginning Book 4

Sky Purington       

Genre:  Time Travel Fantasy Romance

Date of Publication:  May 21st, 2018

ASIN: B079Y36LYH

Number of pages:  265

Word Count:  86,000

Cover Artist:  Tara West

Book Description:

Laird Bryce MacLeod will do anything to see Scotland’s history saved. Even if it means chasing down Jessie, a twenty-first century lass who might very well be his enemy. What he discovers when he catches her, however, is someone with deep, dark secrets and unanticipated intentions. Hidden truths so remarkable a whirlwind adventure through time begins.  

First, they find themselves in league with Angus Óg MacDomhnaill, Lord of the Isles, a noble Scottish captain rumored in some circles to be a pirate. Danger and intrigue abound as they help the Scots capture three English supply ships and deliver their cargo to the Scottish army. As they do and more mysteries are unveiled, attraction ignites and roars to life.   

Caught in the throes of newfound passion, they finally join King Robert the Bruce and face off with the English once more at the Battle of Byland Moor. Yet there’s another enemy as well. An evil whose sole purpose is meant to test their hearts in a way neither saw coming. An enemy determined to rip Jessie away from Bryce forever. Will the power of love be strong enough in the end? Or will the curse that threatens Scotland be too much to overcome?

Find out in Avenged by a Highland Laird, the epic conclusion of The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning.

Amazon

Excerpt

She didn’t miss the flash of disappointment in his eyes before he managed a small nod and held out his hand. “Aye then, lass, step around me.”

Jessie clenched her teeth, disappointed that the small bridge they had built was so swiftly knocked down. That he was so quick to dislike her again. But that wasn’t to be worried about right now.

Well aware time was running out, she carefully turned, so she was facing the wall, took his hand, and began moving. Step by step, she made her way along the ledge to the point where they would have to share a space.

She met his pale golden eyes and tried to ignore the flustered way they made her feel. “Are you ready for me to pass?”

“I am,” he lied.

She could tell by his guarded expression he was nowhere near ready. Not because he was a coward but because he was aware of his effect on her. More so, how much he liked it. His wariness had nothing to do with plummeting to their death but allowing her close enough that she could pass. Feeling the heat of her skin.

So a bridge might have been knocked down, but something else was taking its place. She worked to steady her breathing at the quickly escalating attraction between them. Now was most certainly not the time.

Yet she had known this would likely happen, didn’t she? That it would be unavoidable. At least for her. How else could it be considering the secrets she still kept? Secrets she was foolish enough to have thought she could keep from him for his own safety. But then she had very little real-life practice when it came to attraction. Especially the sort she felt being so close to Bryce. He was the real thing and far more then she anticipated.

However, now definitely wasn’t the time for a chat about deep dark secrets that would only upset him further.

They needed to keep moving.

Though tempted to close her eyes so she didn’t drown in those piercing golden orbs of his again, she kept them open and made her move. With her hand braced on the left side of his waist, she began moving along the front of him. She was halfway across and directly in front of him when he touched the side of her waist, lowered his lips close to her ear and whispered, “Dinnae move, lass.”

His words floated through her mind. “There is a stranger standing across the way.”

“I feel him,” she responded as her eyes rose to his. “He doesn’t see us yet.”

Though she thought it was her breath that caught when they’re eyes met, it might have been his. Alarmed by the impact of being this close, she nearly teetered back, but his arm slipped around and pulled her even closer.

Unable to breathe at all now, she didn’t look away. She couldn’t if she wanted to. “Let me go, and I’ll hide us without him knowing.”

Unmistakable heat gathered in his eyes. Heat and desire he warred to contain, but she saw it…then she felt it as his arm tightened. The pale gold flecks in his thickly lashed eyes only grew brighter with curiosity. While she could tell herself that he simply wondered how she would get them out of this, she knew better. His curiosity was entirely focused on the strong chemistry between them.

Despite the waterfall’s intense spray and the fact an enemy could very well be staring at them right now, she was human enough to get caught up in what was happening between them. How it felt to finally be pressed against his long, hard body. 

To finally lay her hands on the physical form of someone she had known for so long.

“No,” she whispered, suddenly frightened as heat swept through her. “Not now. Not yet.” She swallowed hard and shook her head, suddenly lost in memories. No matter how real this might be, she had long trained herself that she couldn’t trust lustful feelings when it came to him. That she should not indulge in them. “Let me go. Please.”

Though her response could simply be that of a woman choosing to reject what flared between them, he seemed to sense there was more to it. His arousal turned to protectiveness as his brow furrowed in determination and his grip tightened ever so slightly. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was inherently responding to her past. To those moments he was so much a part of without ever knowing.

About the Author:

Sky Purington is the bestselling author of nearly forty novels and novellas. A New Englander born and bred who recently moved to Virginia, Sky was raised hearing stories of folklore, myth, and legend. When combined with a love for history, romance, and time-travel, elements from the stories of her youth found release in her books.

Purington loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at Sky@SkyPurington. Interested in keeping up with Sky’s latest news and releases? Either visit Sky’s website, www.SkyPurington.com, subscribe to her quarterly newsletter or sign up for personalized text message alerts. Simply text 'skypurington' (no quotes, one word, all lowercase) to 74121 or visit Sky’s Sign-up Page. Texts will ONLY be sent when there is a new book release. Readers can easily opt out at any time.

Love social networking? Find Sky on Facebook and Twitter.

Website:   www.skypurington.com

Blog:   www.skypurington.blogspot.com

Twitter:   www.twitter.com/skypurington

Facebook:   https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sky-Purington/260484263999780

Pinterest:   www.pinterest.com/skypurington

Newsletter: http://www.skypuringtonwrites.blogspot.com/p/newletter.html

New Release Text Alerts: https://mobile-text-alerts.com/subscribe/skypurington

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COVER REVEAL: TEXTING PRINCE CHARMING (Patty Carothers and Amy Brewer).

TEXTING PRINCE CHARMING

PRINCE CHARMING Series

Book One

Patty Carothers and Amy Brewer

Genre: YA Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Omnific (Simon and Schuster Partner)

Date of Publication: 05/29/2018

ISBN: 978-1-623422-62-2 (eBook)  

ISBN: 978-1-623422-61-5 (Print)

ASIN: B07CRQPSRB

Number of pages: 235

Word Count: 78,573

Cover Artist: Amy Brokaw

Tagline: Is this your Prince Charming?

Book Description:

After a tragic accident leaves Shelby Ryan permanently injured, she gives up all hope in happily-ever-afters. Shelby puts on a brave face while hiding her pain, but once she returns to school, everything changes. She starts receiving anonymous corny messages from a mysterious Prince Charming, and her nemesis, basketball star and bad boy, Sebastian, shows sudden interest in her.

Hilarity ensues as Shelby tries to uncover Prince Charming's real identity and come to terms with her true feelings for the last boy on Earth she ever thought she'd fall for: Sebastian Freaking Birch.

              

Will she be able to cope with the allure of the texting prince, or will Sebastian be the real-life prince in Shelby's fairytale?

Amazon

About the Authors:

Patty Carothers has been in love with stories for as long as she can remember. She is a certified copy editor and an Oxford comma fangirl. Her adoration of all things comic book related and YA has morphed into her co-writing the Texting Prince Charming series. Engaging and realistic characters that bounce off the pages through witty and thought-provoking dialogue are a thrill for her to read. Although, most days the real question lies with a simple: Is she team Marvel or team D.C.?

Amy Brewer has been an avid reader and lover of literature her whole life. She is a graduate of Culver-Stockton College with a theater degree because drama, romance, and angst are her lifelong passions. She is the co-writer of the Texting Prince Charming series and continues to be enthralled with the art of writing.

https://www.pattycarothersandamybrewerbooks.com/

https://www.instagram.com/princess4life_999/

https://twitter.com/9Princess4life

https://www.facebook.com/99Princess4life/

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39989926-texting-prince-charming

MONSTERLAND REANIMATED by Michael Okon

It's been a little while since we chatted with author Michael Okon. He visited with us in the fall, and now he's back to celebrate the release of book two. Let's see if things have changed.

SC: Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.

MO: Wyatt Baldwin is a teenager who is invited to the grand opening of the Monsterland theme park. In book 2, he has to come to grips with what he experienced at Monsterland and find help to get his town back online.

SC: Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?

MO: Of course I do! In my old house, I would be watching TV and I would see a spirit of an old man walk back and forth. He wasn’t menacing, he was just there.

SC: Well that's kind of cool, thanks for sharing that experience. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?

MO: I’m knee-deep in Monsterland 3 which will have a whole new slew of monsters ready for our teens to overcome.

SC: Then we'd better let you get back at it. Thanks for stopping by.

Monsterland Reanimated
Monsterland
Book Two

Michael Okon

Genre: Young Adult Thriller

Publisher: WordFire Press LLC

Date of Publication: April 13, 2018

ISBN Paperback: 978-1-61475-672-9

ISBN Hardcover: 978-1-61475-677-4

ASIN: 978-1-61475-673-6

Number of pages: 250

Tagline: When an army of relentless mummies, a life-sucking ooze called The Glob, and a hybrid reanimated Behemoth rise from the depths of Monsterland, who will survive?

Book Description:

After Monsterland has imploded, the entire world is thrown into chaos. World leadership is gone, economies have collapsed, and communications are non-existent.  Wyatt must go beyond the boundaries of his small town to reestablish contact with the outside world, and alert the government about a traitor-in-chief.

During his journey he discovers a new threat released from the bowels of the defunct theme park.

When an army of relentless mummies, a life-sucking ooze called The Glob, and a hybrid reanimated Behemoth rise from the depths of Monsterland, who will survive?

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/aMcub3RN5JI

Amazon

Excerpt: Chapter 1

The Night After the Monsterland Catastrophe

A bright moon painted the desert’s surface pewter. Here and there, dark spots soiled the landscape like oil spills. Most of the bodies had been taken before the troops were ordered to leave. They carted away the corpses, bulldozing the zombies into mass graves, until radios chirped with urgent orders deploying the soldiers to the bigger threats that erupted in the main cities like a chain of angry volcanos.

Monsterland was extinguished, its carcass left for the vultures to pick, the exhibits silent as a tomb.

The dead president and his equally dead entourage were whisked away on Air Force One, along with the dark-clad special operatives that came and left like the brisk desert wind that now howled through the empty streets.

A gate screamed in the silence, slamming with a reverberating smash. The uneven gait of someone with a physical challenge filled the void. The scrape and plod of his limp echoed against the wall of mountains framing the theme park. His labored breathing huffed as he made his way down the streets.

A door creaked loudly as it was blown by the wind. He stopped, his distorted figure silhouetted in the pale moonlight, his body turning silver. He looked at the broken glass littering the pavement like diamonds, then up to the still, pre-dawn sky. He considered the sun peeking over the jagged horizon in the east, its golden light painting the dips and hollows of the hills. Soon the coming day would chase the darkness away.

Time was the enemy now. He had to move faster, or it would be too late. He picked up his pace, lurching along the winding road. A keening howl ricocheted through the streets, bouncing off the walls. It sounded like a ... no, he thought, it couldn’t be. The werewolves were all dead. Destroyed by Vincent Konrad when he made their heads explode.

The old man paused, listening for it again, and was not disappointed when the animal whimpered. He gauged it to be inside the defunct vampire exhibit. He moved toward the entrance. The storefronts had been destroyed. A few body parts lay on the pavement, as if people had discarded them in a rush. He heard the scraping of paws on the street and a shiver went down his crooked spine.

He knew the werewolves were dead; he had seen it with his own eyes. A figure detached from the shadows. Igor flattened himself against the wall. He watched it move stealthily down the street, stopping when it scavenged a morsel of rotting flesh. It looked up to stare at Igor, its eyes glowing in the darkness.

A coyote? He waved a hand, dismissing it. It had to be a coyote; it was too small to be a wolf, too big to be a dog. The beast twitched its ears, then resumed its meal.

Igor knew the coyote was not a threat, and he continued his mission. His lame foot hit a can, sending a cacophony of sound like an explosion in the deserted park. The beast dropped the bone it was gnawing on, sniffing the area. Its iridescent eyes searched the streets.

It could be a baby wolf, Igor thought, keeping himself as still as possible. He felt it watching him, even from this distance. It was not a threat, yet.

Igor skittered away, hugging the walls of Monsterland, putting as much distance as he could between them. Not an easy feat, considering his distorted hips. He muttered to himself about carrion and the wind. His eyes darted nervously, scouring the hills, not exactly sure what he was looking for. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. His heart pounded so loudly he was certain that the creature watching him could hear it too.

His feet stumbling to a halt, he bent over, gasping for air, cursing Vincent and those meddlesome teenagers, as well as the rest of the world.

The beast gave another mournful howl that went right through him. Igor glanced at his empty hands, berating himself for not bringing a weapon. He searched his surroundings for anything to protect himself.

Then he saw it, one of the axes they had on almost every corner. All of them had been pulled from their protective cases. One was lying in a pool of coagulating blood, the blade long gone. He picked up the broken axe handle, turning in a semicircle. He was ready for an attacker.

A new, larger outline made his heart quiver with fear. It crouched in a corner, its snout covered with blood. This one was bigger, not a coyote, a wild wolf. Wait, he thought. Weren’t the gray wolves of California all but extinct?

Igor narrowed his eyes. The beast was a light reddish brown and not the silver gray of a wolf’s pelt. A chain hung from its neck, the pendant of a werewolf’s head dangling, emerald eyes flashing. What was it? Was it a mutant coyote? A wolf? Some weird hybrid, he wondered for a minute, his breath harsh in his ears. They watched each other soundlessly.

A hybrid then. He’d heard about them, a rare mixture of wolf and coyote. What did they call them? Coywolves ...? or was it Woyotes? He shrugged indifferently. Perhaps someone’s pet, he decided. Igor’s mirthless laugh came out like a snort.

The coywolf stood still, its ears alert, its head cocked as if it was observing him.

Igor dropped the makeshift weapon, calling out, “Eat the rest of your meal, you dumb beast.”

The animal continued to watch him, its two front paws on the remains of a zombie’s chest.

Igor wiped his forehead, waiting, his eyes coming back to search the village, confirming it was empty, except for the carrion eaters like the coyotes and vultures. He looked up, noting the circling predators waiting for him to move on.

“Interrupted your meal,” he chuckled. Just the local scavengers looking for food. That was all; the shadows revealed nothing else. Satisfied he was alone, he moved on. He had work to do.

A paper flew past him, hitting a kiosk as the wind plastered it against its surface. It flapped like a dying bird. Igor reached over, taking the fluttering paper, peering at the map of the park, the one they gave people as they entered Monsterland. A bark of laughter escaped his mouth.

He looked up at the giant monolith that was once the Werewolf River Run, its hulking shape obscuring the horizon. “You are here,” he giggled, pointing a grimy finger on the paper’s surface. He dragged his deformed body further down the pavement. The storefronts that used to be Monsterland’s Main Street yawned vacantly, the wind whistling through the narrow alleyways. “Now, you are here,” he laughed. Shouting, he listened to the sound of his voice bouncing off the blood-splattered walls.

He made his way to the back end of the zombie village, feeling like the last man on earth. He glanced around at the desolate landscape. His home, the beautiful theme park, was little more than ruins destroyed by the army.

His nose twitched from the fetid smell of rot. The US Army had massacred the zombies. The troops came like a force of nature wiping out everything in its path, every last one of them blown away by the troops.

They were black ops, special forces, he knew from their uniforms. He wondered if things were indeed going as planned. He shrugged, knowing right now nothing mattered except for what he had to do. The irony that he was just about the most important man on earth brought more amusement to his smile.

The local police force was gone, as were the leaders of most countries in the world. He knew all was chaos outside, perhaps even war, each nation blaming the next for the loss of their leadership. Not to worry, he thought. Vincent left America in capable hands.

Dreams do come true, he snickered. Nightmares too, he finished the thought. A long line of drool pulled at his lower lip. He paused at a pothole in the road, decomposing body parts glistening, the disappearing moon turning the bits of bone and brains pearly.

Anxiety bloomed in his chest as he passed the opaque windows of Vincent’s derelict Monsterland hotel, the Copper Valley Inn. He hated that place. Abandoned construction vehicles were frozen in their spots, testimony to the hotel’s unfinished business.

Despite the pastel colors of its exterior, it sat like an ominous crypt to the part of the theme park that Vincent could never control. Told Vincent it was a money pit. Crews couldn’t work because ... well, it didn’t matter anymore. The help was all dead. He thought he saw a light flicker in the window, but when he turned, he realized it was nothing more than a sputtering gas lamp that had never been disconnected.

He stood for a while, staring for more activity, and then jerked with the realization that he waited too long and wasted precious time. Surely no one expected him to go searching during the heat of battle.

Vincent said it was enough time to set up the timetable. Vincent knew everything, and Igor felt his panic ebb. It had been barely twenty-four hours since the attack. For all he knew, he could be on a fool’s errand.

He pressed his hand on his hip, his back screaming with resentment at so much movement. He was not used to any exercise. He sighed, wiping his brow with the ragged end of his costume, the lace scratching his skin. He caught the cuff, snagging the material with his teeth, tugging it free from his velvet jacket. He loathed the show and was glad he’d never have to endure the humiliation of performing again, especially with the vamps. Those condescending, blood-sucking parasites. He wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore, he thought with satisfaction. Vincent had promised he’d not have to endure them for long, living up to his part of the bargain quite nicely. They were gone, torn apart by the werewolves or transformed into a tasty dinner by the zombies. Either way, they wouldn’t be bullying him with their nasty insults. Something buzzed around him, and he swiped at it.

It felt as though he walked to the other side of the earth. Why Vincent had to pick Zombieville to make his last stand, he’d never know. The Werewolf River Run would have been much more convenient. It was getting lighter now, and he could easily make out the smoking devastation.

He searched the horizon, his eyes resting on the burnt wreckage of a golf cart, the torched skeleton listing at an odd angle.

Pulling his lame foot, he pushed himself as fast as his body could travel, his breath hitching with the effort.

The corpse was gone. He knew they would have taken that for DNA testing, proof that the enemy was vanquished. The only things left were the putrid carcasses from Monsterland, the decaying zombies, massacred vampires, and what was left of the werewolves after Vincent had exterminated them.

He climbed a small hill, his bad leg screaming with pain. Igor crowed with triumph when he saw it, the discarded lump of flesh, lying forgotten in a ditch, face down. He shivered as the desert wind stirred and eddied around him. Damn, but it was desolate here.

He hunkered down, forcing himself to skitter on the hard-packed earth. He wondered what his son, the vice president—no, he corrected himself, the new president of the United States, Mr. Nate Owens—would think of his father now, scrambling like a dung beetle in the dirt.

He cursed. The drool was back, dripping from his mouth like a sparkling spider web. Instead of rising—it was beyond him at this point—he shimmied over to the severed head, reaching forward, reverently, grabbing it by the matted hair, and grasping it to his chest.

The black eyes stared back dully, the dark depths reflecting the hunchback’s twisted smile.

Vincent Konrad’s lifeless face lay in his hands, the pale lips open in a soundless scream.

“I’m so happy I could kiss you, Vincent!” he told the decapitated head. He cradled the face of his friend. “We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

The moon bathed the face a pale blue. The hunchback jiggled the dead weight, cackling with delight as the one papery eyelid drooped as if it were winking.

In the distance, that coywolf howled, making Igor suck in his breath with fear. He tucked the head under his arm as he struggled back up the small hill, mumbling something about Plan B.

About the Author:

Michael Okon is an award-winning and best-selling author of multiple genres including paranormal, thriller, horror, action/adventure and self-help. He graduated from Long Island University with a degree in English, and then later received his MBA in business and finance. Coming from a family of writers, he has storytelling in his DNA. Michael has been writing from as far back as he can remember, his inspiration being his love for films and their impact on his life. From the time he saw The Goonies, he was hooked on the idea of entertaining people through unforgettable characters.

Michael is a lifelong movie buff, a music playlist aficionado, and a sucker for self-help books. He lives on the North Shore of Long Island with his wife and children.

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