Eight creepy tales that will linger in your mind long after they’ve ended. Stories where the unexpected should be expected. Where an ebony-clawed demon is a friend, and a doting mother is the monster. Where horror is sometimes broken by humor, and seven deadly fears come to life.
A grim reaper obsessed with collecting the flesh of his victims is hunted by an entity with an obsession of its own—him. Will he be able to solve the mystery before he loses his own desiccated hide?
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A deadly mistake at one of Hell’s premier demon-to-human possession facilitation agencies has occurred. With screams echoing through the travel agency and blood oozing under doors, can the demons handle the issue themselves or will Hell-land Security have to save the day?
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A large metallic alien orb, dormant for months, has activated. Do scientists know enough to save themselves, much less humanity?
More ghosts, demons, and vampires await you in Deadly Fears. So, lock the doors, turn on the lights, and read at your own risk.
Hello! Thank you for your interest in my new book. I thought I'd share a few excerpts for those interested.
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Enjoy!
Death & Rebirth
A blast of cold air assaulted Nora, coating her skin in a frosty sheet. Nora shuddered, immediately regretting her words as she watched her mom’s hands stretch and her fingers curl like talons in front of her body. “I’m sorry,” Nora whispered, cowering as her mother disappeared beneath the thing that now lived within her.
Black sludge seeped from her pupils into the whites of her eyes before spreading out the corners like spidery webbing down her cheeks. That darkness continued to course through her veins, raising ridges across her skin in lines of black—changing her flesh into something alien. Something unnatural. Her mother lunged forward. “That bastard did!” Sharp fangs flashed as she leaned back and bellowed into the sky.
Nora screamed, dropping her food onto the floor. She pressed back into the wall, wishing she could disappear as her mother’s anger crested.
A cold wind charged through the cabin, filling the room with the sound of rushing air that was not quite loud enough to cover the words coming from her mother’s mouth.
Father
“No,” Yaeska said when the soft clank of bones broke her concentration. She squatted behind the dense bushes and breathed deeply, letting the berries in her hands fall to the ground. “Oh, Spirit Mother, do not let today be the day. Give us more time.” Her gaze lingered on where her ebony hair touched the ground, at where her fingers clenched the warm soil, before she closed her eyes and prayed. Prayed as the beat of her heart increased and a wet line of sweat slid down her spine. Prayed as the pit of her stomach clenched with a knowing dread. The bones were never wrong.
Click-clack. Click-clack. The death rattles rose again from the ancient teeth and small skulls tied to the cord about her neck.
Fear spread up Yaeska’s back. Only one thing made the necklace speak and left her legs weak with dread. She slowly stood and scanned the meadow, her hand clasped around the spelled bones to silence them, a part of her hoping they were wrong. Her breath caught in her throat when she found what she was dreading.
How could something so terrible begin as such a small thing?
The white speck twinkled from its place across the meadow, above the orange and purple wildflowers, heavily blooming bushes, and the meandering stream of the valley. In a cloudless sky, the birds flew and danced as if all was fine, not yet aware of the danger growing among them.
The Reaper
The grim reaper walked around the body with his hands clasped behind his back, his tattered cloak barely moving in the still air. It was dark except for the moonlight streaming through the trees to reflect off the curved steel blade of the scythe holstered on his back. Occasionally, he peered up at the cars driving on the Twenty-Eighth Street Bridge, but for the most part, Laurant’s gaze remained focused on the glowing corpse. She’d been beaten then slashed with a knife. He squatted to inspect the blood seeping into the soil. “They really should have used more restraint,” he muttered.
Using a skeletal finger, he turned her lifeless gaze toward him and stared into her dull eyes. He shook his head in disappointment. Both her eyes were red from ruptured blood vessels, which diminished the beauty of their mossy-green irises. What a waste, he thought, scanning the ravaged skin on her cheeks and neck. There’s got to be something usable here.
He moved down to her feet and let his gaze slide up her legs and narrow waist, over the arm crossing her chest to her shoulder and the arm flung behind her head. A splash of yellow caught his attention, and he leaped over her torso to yank her hand into the air. As her body rose, her head fell to the side, and congealed blood dropped to the ground with a loud plop. Smiling, he removed a knife from his pocket and flicked it open. He hummed as he sliced the flesh off her forearm.