Beyond the Books

Raven’s Peak Book Blast! Win a copy of RAVEN’S PEAK! Ends Today!

 

We’re thrilled to be hosting Lincoln Cole and his RAVEN’S PEAK Book Blast today! Fill out the form at the bottom and leave a comment on this blog post to win a FREE autographed copy of his book! Good luck!

 

Title:
Raven’s Peak
Author: Lincoln Cole
Publisher: Kindle Press
Pages: 276
Genre: Horror/Paranormal Thriller/Urban Fantasy
A quiet little mountain town is hiding a big problem. When the townsfolk of Raven’s Peak start acting crazy, Abigail Dressler is called upon to discover the root of the evil affecting people. She uncovers a demonic threat unlike any she’s ever faced and finds herself in a fight just to stay alive.
Abigail rescues Haatim Arison from a terrifying fate and discovers that he has a family legacy in the supernatural that he knows nothing about. Now she’s forced to protect him, which is easy, but also to trust him if she wants to save the townsfolk of Raven’s Peak. Trust, however, is something hard to have for someone who grew up living on the knife’s edge of danger.
Can they discover the cause of the town’s insanity and put a stop to it before it is too late?

Raven’s Peak is available at Amazon.

Book Excerpt:

“Reverend, you have a
visitor.”
He couldn’t remember when he
fell in love with the pain. When agony first turned to pleasure, and then to
joy. Of course, it hadn’t always been like this. He remembered screaming all
those years ago when first they put him in this cell; those memories were
vague, though, like reflections in a dusty mirror.
“Open D4.”
A buzz as the door slid open,
inconsequential. The aching need was what drove him in this moment, and
nothing else mattered. It was a primal desire: a longing for the tingly rush of
adrenaline each time the lash licked his flesh. The blood dripping down his
parched skin fulfilled him like biting into a juicy strawberry on a warm
summer’s day.
“Some woman. Says she needs to
speak with you immediately. She says her name is Frieda.”
A pause, the lash hovering in
the air like a poised snake. The Reverend remembered that name, found it
dancing in the recesses of his mind. He tried to pull himself back from the
ritual, back to reality, but it was an uphill slog through knee-deep mud to
reclaim those memories.
It was always difficult to
focus when he was in the midst of his cleansing. All he managed to cling to was
the name. Frieda. It was the name of an angel, he
knew. . . or perhaps a devil.
One and the same when all was
said and done.
She belonged to a past life,
only the whispers of which he could recall. The ritual reclaimed him, embraced
him with its fiery need. His memories were nothing compared to the whip in his
hand, its nine tails gracing his flesh.
The lash struck down on his
left shoulder blade, scattering droplets of blood against the wall behind him.
Those droplets would stain the granite for months, he knew, before finally
fading away. He clenched his teeth in a feral grin as the whip landed with a
sickening, wet slapping sound.
“Jesus,” a new voice whispered
from the doorway. “Does he always do that?”
“Every morning.”
“You’ll cuff him?”
“Why? Are you scared?”
The Reverend raised the lash
into the air, poised for another strike.
“Just…man, you said he was
crazy…but this…”
The lash came down, lapping at
his back and the tender muscles hidden there. He let out a groan of mixed agony
and pleasure.
These men were meaningless,
their voices only echoes amid the rest, an endless drone. He wanted them to
leave him alone with his ritual. They weren’t worth his time.
“I think we can spare the
handcuffs this time; the last guy who tried spent a month in the hospital.”
“Regulation says we have to.”
“Then you do it.”
The guards fell silent. The
cat-o’-nine-tails, his friend, his love, became the only sound in the roughhewn
cell, echoing off the granite walls. He took a rasping breath, blew it out, and
cracked the lash again. More blood. More agony. More pleasure.
“I don’t think we need to cuff
him,” the second guard decided.
“Good idea. Besides, the
Reverend isn’t going to cause us any trouble. He only hurts himself. Right,
Reverend?”
The air tasted of copper,
sickly sweet. He wished he could see his back and the scars, but there were no
mirrors in his cell. They removed the only one he had when he broke shards off
to slice into his arms and legs. They were afraid he would kill himself.
How ironic was that?
“Right, Reverend?”
Mirrors were dangerous things,
he remembered from that past life. They called the other side, the darker side.
An imperfect reflection stared back, threatening to steal pieces of the soul
away forever.
“Reverend? Can you hear me?”
The guard reached out to tap
the Reverend on the shoulder. Just a tap, no danger at all, but his hand never
even came close. Honed reflexes reacted before anyone could possibly understand
what was happening.
Suddenly the Reverend was
standing. He hovered above the guard who was down on his knees. The man let out
a sharp cry, his left shoulder twisted up at an uncomfortable angle by the
Reverend’s iron grip.
The lash hung in the air,
ready to strike at its new prey.
The Reverend looked curiously
at the man, seeing him for the first time. He recognized him as one of the
first guardsmen he’d ever spoken with when placed in this cell. A nice European
chap with a wife and two young children. A little overweight and balding, but
well-intentioned.
Most of him didn’t want to
hurt this man, but there was a part—a hungry, needful part—that did. That part
wanted to hurt this man in ways neither of them could even imagine. One twist
would snap his arm. Two would shatter the bone; the sound as it snapped would
be . . .
A symphony rivaling
Tchaikovsky.
The second guard—the younger
one that smelled of fear—stumbled back, struggling to draw his gun.
“No! No, don’t!”
That from the first, on his
knees as if praying. The Reverend wondered if he prayed at night with his
family before heading to bed. Doubtless, he prayed that he would make it home
safely from work and that one of the inmates wouldn’t rip his throat out or
gouge out his eyes. Right now, he was waving his free hand at his partner to
get his attention, to stop him.
The younger guard finally
worked the gun free and pointed it at the Reverend. His hands were shaking as
he said, “Let him go!”
“Don’t shoot, Ed!”
“Let him go!”
The older guard, pleading this
time: “Don’t piss him off!”
The look that crossed his
young partner’s face in that moment was precious: primal fear. It was an
expression the Reverend had seen many times in his life, and he understood the
thoughts going through the man’s mind: he couldn’t imagine how he might
die in this cell, but he believed he could. That belief
stemmed from something deeper than what his eyes could see. A terror so
profound it beggared reality.
An immutable silence hung in
the air. Both guards twitched and shifted, one in pain and the other in terror.
The Reverend was immovable, a statue in his sanctuary, eyes boring into the
man’s soul.
“Don’t shoot,” the guard on
his knees murmured. “You’ll miss, and we’ll be dead.”
“I have a clear shot. I can’t
miss.”
This time, the response was
weaker. “We’ll still be dead.”
A hesitation. The guard
lowered his gun in confused fear, pointing it at the floor. The Reverend curled
his lips and released, freeing the kneeling guard.
The man rubbed his shoulder
and climbed shakily to his feet. He backed away from the Reverend and stood
beside the other, red-faced and panting.
“I heard you,” the Reverend
said. The words were hard to come by; he’d rarely spoken these last five
years.
“I’m sorry, Reverend,” the
guard replied meekly. “My mistake.”
“Bring me to Frieda,” he
whispered.
“You don’t—” the younger guard
began. A sharp look from his companion silenced him.
“Right away, sir.”
“Steve, we should cuff…”
Steve ignored him, turning and
stepping outside the cell. The Reverend looked longingly at the lash in his
hand before dropping it onto his hard bed. His cultivated pain had faded to a
dull ache. He would need to begin anew when he returned, restart the cleansing.
There was always more to
cleanse.
They traveled through the
black-site prison deep below the earth’s surface, past neglected cells and
through rough cut stone. A few of the rusty cages held prisoners, but most
stood empty and silent. These prisoners were relics of a forgotten time, most
of whom couldn’t even remember the misdeed that had brought them here.
The Reverend remembered his
misdeeds. Every day he thought of the pain and terror he had inflicted, and
every day he prayed it would wash away.
They were deep within the
earth, but not enough to benefit from the world’s core heat. It was kept
unnaturally cold as well to keep the prisoners docile. That meant there were
only a few lights and frigid temperatures. Last winter he thought he might lose
a finger to frostbite. He’d cherished the idea, but it wasn’t to be. He had
looked forward to cutting it off.
There were only a handful of
guards in this section of the prison, maybe one every twenty meters. The actual
security system relied on a single exit shaft as the only means of escape.
Sure, he could fight his way free, but locking the elevator meant he would
never reach the surface.
And pumping out the oxygen
meant the situation would be contained.
The Council didn’t want to
bring civilians in on the secretive depths of their hellhole prison. The fewer
guards they needed to hire, the fewer people knew of their existence, and any
guards who were brought in were fed half-truths and lies about their true
purpose. How many such men and women, he’d always wondered, knew who he was or
why he was here?
Probably none. That was for
the best. If they knew, they never would have been able to do their jobs.
As they walked, the Reverend
felt the ritual wash away and he became himself once more. Just a man getting
on in years: broken, pathetic, and alone as he paid for his mistakes.
Finally, they arrived at the
entrance of the prison: an enclosed set of rooms cut into the stone walls
backing up to a shaft. A solitary elevator bridged the prison to the world
above, guarded by six men, but that wasn’t where they took him.
They guided him to one of the
side rooms, opening the door but waiting outside. Inside were a plain brown
table and one-way mirror, similar to a police station, but nothing else.
A woman sat at the table facing
away from the door. She had brown hair and a white business suit with matching
heels. Very pristine; Frieda was always so well-dressed.
“Here we are,” the guard said.
The Reverend didn’t acknowledge the man, but he did walk into the chamber. He
strode past the table and sat in the chair facing Frieda.
He studied her: she had deep
blue eyes and a mole on her left cheek. She looked older, and he couldn’t
remember the last time she’d come to visit him.
Probably not since the day she
helped lock him in that cell.
“Close the door,” Frieda said
to the guards while still facing the Reverend.
“But ma’am, we are supposed
to—”
“Close the door,” she
reiterated. Her tone was exactly the same, but an undercurrent was there. Hers
was a powerful presence, the type normal people obeyed instinctually. She was
always in charge, no matter the situation.
“We will be right out here,”
Steve replied finally, pulling the heavy metal door closed.
Silence enveloped the room, a
humming emptiness.
He stared at her, and she
stared at him. Seconds slipped past.
He wondered how she saw him.
What must he look like today? His hair and beard must be shaggy and unkempt
with strands of gray mixed into the black. He imagined his face, but with eyes
that were sunken, skin that was pale and leathery. Doubtless, he looked
thinner, almost emaciated.
He was also covered in blood,
the smell of which would be overpowering. It disgusted him; he hated how his
daily ritual left him, battering his body to maintain control, yet he answered
its call without question.
“Do you remember what you told
me the first time we met?” the Reverend asked finally, facing Frieda again.
“We need your help,” Frieda
said, ignoring his question. “You’ve been here for a long time, and things have
been getting worse.”
“You quoted Nietzsche, that
first meeting. I thought it was pessimistic and rhetorical,” he continued.
“Crime is getting worse. The
world is getting darker and…”
“I thought you were talking
about something that might happen to someone else but never to me. I had no
idea just how spot on you were: that you were prophesizing my future,” he
spoke. “Do you remember your exact words?”
“We need your help,” Frieda
finished. Then she added softer: “I need your help.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he
said: “Do you remember?”
She sighed. “I do.”
“Repeat it for me.”
She frowned. “When we first
met, I said to you: ‘Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the
process he does not become a monster
.’”
He nodded. “You were right.
Now I am a monster.”
“You aren’t a monster,”
she whispered.
“No,” he said. “I am your monster.”
“Reverend…”
Rage exploded through his
body, and he felt every muscle tense. “That is not my name!”
he roared, slamming his fist on the table. It made a loud crashing sound,
shredding the silence, and the wood nearly folded beneath the impact.
Frieda slid her chair back in
an instant, falling into a fighting stance. One hand gripped the cross hanging
around her neck, and the other slid into her vest pocket. She wore an
expression he could barely recognize, something he’d never seen on her face
before.
Fear.
She was afraid of him. The
realization stung, and more than a little bit.
The Reverend didn’t move from
his seat, but he could still feel heat coursing through his veins. He forced
his pulse to slow, his emotions to subside. He loved the feeling of rage but
was terrified of what would happen if he gave into it; if he embraced it.
He glanced at the hand in her
pocket and realized what weapon she had chosen to defend herself. A pang shot
through his chest.
“Would it work?” he asked.
She didn’t answer, but a
minute trace of shame crossed her face. He stood slowly and walked around the
table, reaching a hand toward her. To her credit, she barely flinched as he
touched her. He gently pulled her fist out of the pocket and opened it. In her
grip was a small vial filled with water.
Will it work?” he
asked.
“Arthur…” she breathed.
The name brought a flood of
memories, furrowing his brow. A little girl playing in a field, picking
blueberries and laughing. A wife with auburn hair who watched him with love and
longing as he played with their daughter. He quashed them; he feared the pain
the memories would bring.
That was a pain he did not
cherish.
“I need to know,” he
whispered.
He slid the vial from her hand
and popped the top off. She watched in resignation as he held up his right
arm and poured a few droplets onto his exposed skin. It tingled where it
touched, little more than a tickle, and he felt his skin turn hot.
But it didn’t burn.
He let out the shuddering breath
he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Thank God,” Frieda whispered.
“I’m not sure She deserves
it,” Arthur replied.
“We need your help,” Frieda
said again. When he looked at her face once more, he saw moisture in her eyes.
He couldn’t tell if it was from relief that the blessed water didn’t work, or
sadness that it almost had.
“How can I possibly help?” he
asked, gesturing at his body helplessly with his arms. “You see what I am. What
I’ve become.”
“I know what you were.”
“What I am no longer,” he
corrected. “I was ignorant and foolish. I can never be that man again.”
“Three girls are missing,” she
said.
“Three girls are always
missing,” he said, “and countless more.”
“But not like these,” she
said. “These are ours.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Rescues?”
She nodded. “Two showed
potential. All three were being fostered by the Greathouse family.”
He remembered Charles
Greathouse, an old and idealistic man who just wanted to help. “Of course, you
went to Charles,” Arthur said. “He took care of your little witches until they
were ready to become soldiers.”
“He volunteered.”
“And now he’s dead,” Arthur
said. Frieda didn’t correct him. “Who took the girls?”
“We don’t know. But there’s
more. It killed three of ours.”
“Hunters?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Michael and Rachael Felton.”
“And the third?”
“Abigail.”
He cursed. “You know she
wasn’t ready. Not for this.”
“You’ve been here for five
years,” Frieda said. “She grew up.”
“She’s still a child.”
“She wasn’t anymore.”
“She’s my child.”
Frieda hesitated, frowning. He
knew as well as she did what had happened to put him in this prison and what
part Abigail had played in it. If Abigail hadn’t stopped him…
“We didn’t expect . . .”
Frieda said finally, sliding away from the minefield in the conversation.
“You never do.”
“I’m sorry,” Frieda said. “I
know you were close.”
The Reverend—Arthur—had
trained Abigail. Raised her from a child after rescuing her from a cult many
years earlier. It was after his own child had been murdered, and he had needed
a reason to go on with his life. His faith was wavering, and she had become his
salvation. They were more than close. They were family.
And now she was dead.
“What took them? Was it the
Ninth Circle?”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“Our informants haven’t heard anything.”
“A demon?”
“Probably several.”
“Where did it take them?” he
asked.
“We don’t know.”
“What is it going to do with
them?”
This time, she didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
“So you want me to clean up
your mess?”
“It killed three of our best,”
Frieda said. “I don’t…I don’t know what else to do.”
“What does the Council want
you to do?”
“Wait and see.”
“And you disagree?”
“I’m afraid that it’ll be too
late by the time the Council decides to act.”
“You have others you could
send.”
“Not that can handle something
like this,” she said.
“You mean none that you could
send without the Council finding out and reprimanding you?”
“You were always the best,
Arthur.”
“Now I am in prison.”
“You are here voluntarily,”
she said. “I’ve taken care of everything. There is a car waiting topside and a
jet idling. So, will you help?”
He was silent for a moment,
thinking. “I’m not that man anymore.”
“I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I do.”
“What happens if I say ‘no’?”
“I don’t know,” Frieda said,
shaking her head. “You are my last hope.”
“What happens,” he began, a
lump in his throat, “when I don’t come back? What happens when I become the new
threat and you have no one else to send?”
Frieda wouldn’t even look him
in the eyes.
“When that day comes,” she
said softly, staring at the table, “I’ll have an answer to a question I’ve
wondered about for a long time.”
“What question is that?”
She looked up at him. “What is
my faith worth?”

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About the Author

 

Lincoln Cole is
a Columbus-based author who enjoys traveling and has visited many different
parts of the world, including
Australia and Cambodia, but always returns home to his
pugamonster and wife. His love for writing was kindled at an early age through
the works of Isaac Asimov and Stephen King and he enjoys telling stories to
anyone who will listen.
For More Information

 

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Giveaway

Lincoln
Cole is giving away an autographed copy of RAVEN’S PEAK!!

Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering
    the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner
    will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one autographed copy of RAVEN’S
    PEAK
  • This
    giveaway ends midnight July 11.
  • Winner will
    be contacted via email on July 12.
  • Winner has
    48 hours to reply.
Good luck everyone!

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Character Interview: Lynch from Thomas Rottinghaus western/fantasy Graaywullf: Book One of the Dragonspawn Trilogy

GraywullfWe’re thrilled to have here today Lynch from Thomas Rottinghaus new western/fantasy, Graywullf: Book One of the Dragonspawn Trilogy.  Lynch   is an ageless Dark Wizard living in the country of Norland.

It is a pleasure to have him with us today at Beyond the Books!

Thank you so for this interview, Lynch.  Now that the book has been written, do you feel you were fairly portrayed or would you like to set anything straight with your readers?

First of all, I must maintain my innocence in any wrongdoing. Also I feel that I have been portrayed as a self serving, arrogant, egotistical, murderous, cold blooded man with only a sliver of morality…wait, I guess that is correct. But, in my own defense I do feel that I evolved throughout the story, and I did play a huge role in all of the action.

Do you feel the author did a good job colorizing your personality?  If not, how would you like to have been portrayed differently?

I could have been portrayed as a new and improved Dark Wizard, with a more prominent sense of humor. But, I have to admit that being known as the most daring, handsome, rugged and dangerous man in the known World is somewhat flattering.

What do you believe is your strongest trait?

I have so many strong traits it’s hard to choose. Perhaps it’s my unwavering determination.

Worse trait?

I am a little quick with my blade at times, but only with those who truly deserve it.

If you could choose someone in the television or movie industry to play your part if your book was made into a movie, who would that be (and you can’t say yourself!)?

Hugh Jackman, without a doubt. He’s strong and dangerous. Think Wolverine. With magical capabilities and a sword.

Do you have a love interest in the book?

I’m Lynch. I have many love interests.

At what point of the book did you start getting nervous about the way it was going to turn out?

Oh, I’ve knocked on Death’s door so many times I was never really nervous. I found myself in some very tight situations, but Lynch always perseveres.

If you could trade places with one of the other characters in the book, which character would you really not want to be and why?

I would hate to be anyone who opposes me. Why? Really, do you have to ask? Look at me. I am the epitome of strength, intelligence, daring and good looks.

How do you feel about the ending of the book without giving too much away?

Personally, the ending of the book was quite frustrating. But from a more neutral standpoint it is the perfect introduction of the World of Norland and the bloodline of Graywullf.

What words of wisdom would you give your author if s/he decided to write another book with you in it?

Please don’t be so reluctant to heap praise and admiration on me. We both know I deserve it.

Thank you for this interview, Lynch.  Will we be seeing more of you in the future?

Absolutely. I have a HUGE part to play in the rest of this story!

ABOUT THE BOOK

 Title:  Graywullf

Genre: Western / Fantasy

Author: Thomas Rottinghaus

Website:www.thomasrottinghaus.com

Publisher: AuthorHouse

Purchase on Amazon

About the Book:

The Dark Wizard Lynch had lived several ages of men being loyal only to himself. But when he was accidentally rescued from certain death by the Warrior Lorn Graywullf, he found himself in the unfamiliar position of being indebted to another. To repay that debt, Lynch offers to help the Warriors reverse a spell that would wreak havoc on their World. Of course, he neglected to mention that action would serve his own interests as well. In the process, Lynch discovers much to his chagrin that he does still have a soul and a conscience.

He also discovers that the Warriors are fighting a battle they can’t win against a common enemy, a Wizard named Timon Backhelm. Only Lynch knows his complicated history with Timon, and the real reason he has sworn to kill him or be killed trying. But when Lynch realizes the extent of Timon’s power, he knows the only way to win is to initiate the creation of the Dragonspawn, a magical, physical blend of the strengths of a Dragon and an ultimate Warrior. The question is, will the Dragonspawn be loyal to those who created him, or will he simply destroy them all?

Graywullf2.png

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Thomas Rottinghaus has been an avid reader of fantasy and science fiction, as well as a student of the written Word, since becoming enamored with J. R. R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit” as a freshman in high school. Drawing from influences as varied as Tolkien, Stephen King, and Isaac Asimov, he wrote his first foray into the publishing world, “Graywullf: Book One of the Dragonspawn Trilogy” Thomas studied literature and journalism at Colorado Mesa University before pursuing other interests. He resides in beautiful Western Colorado with his wife, Lisa, a herd of barn cats and their friend Scout, a shepherd and Labrador mix.

Twitter: Graywullf1

FB: https://www.facebook.com/Graywullf/?fref=nf

http://bookstore.authorhouse.com/Products/SKU-000999817/Graywullf.aspx

Character Interview: Fyx from Patrick C Greene’s horror novel THE CRIMSON CALLING

character interviews logo

We’re thrilled to have here today Mister Fyx from Patrick C Greene’s new vampire novel THE CRIMSON CALLING.  Fyx is a four hundred and thirty seven year old professional soldier living in The Balkans.

It is a pleasure to have him with us today at Beyond the Books!

crimsonThank you so for this interview, Mister Fyx  Now that the book has been written, do you feel you were fairly portrayed or would you like to set anything straight with your readers?

FYX: Lemme tell you something, mate. I don’t really give a good goddamn what anybody says or thinks about me, especially not some warmie barely outta his mum. “Warmie,” that’s shorthand for you mortals. But as for the facts, this bloke Greene seems to have colored pretty close to the lines, I’ll give him that.

Do you feel the author did a good job colorizing your personality?  If not, how would you like to have been portrayed differently?

FYX: “Colorizing?” What in the bloody hell is that s’posed to mean? I aint no bloody Turner Classic Movie. Look, some poor misguided newbloods, that’s what we call fresh-turned vamps, popped up and I gave ‘em hell. Put me boot in their raggedy asses. You wanna bloody play-by-play, hire one of them ESPN clowns.

What do you believe is your strongest trait?

FYX: I’m caring, nurturing, well-versed in the works of all the poet-philosophers, and I find great joy in flower arranging. Jeez, you warmies ask silly questions. I kick ass. It’s my job AND my hobby. You want a negotiator, I’ll fetch you my buddy Vargas.

Worse trait?

FYX: When I feed, I tend to waste a drop or two in my fervor, if you will.

If you could choose someone in the television or movie industry to play your part if your book was made into a movie, who would that be (and you can’t say yourself!)?

FYX: Vinnie Jones is just about the only meaningful choice. He’s a bit soft, but maybe he could turn it up a bit to wear my shoes.

Do you have a love interest in the book?

FYX: Mate, right now I don’t know whether to laugh at you or bleed you dry.

At what point of the book did you start getting nervous about the way it was going to turn out?

FYX: My best mate Jiang was kidnapped by those turncoat fucking newbs. Anyone who can lay mitts on Jiang and still be walkin’ round aint no comedy act if you catch my wave. He’s a former warlord you see, gone all… introspective here lately. I reckon those bastards pumped him for a lot of info, and likely didn’t get it. But the short-candle science geeks working with ‘em probably made some eureka or other, squinting into their little microscopes. Bottom line; bad warmies working with bad newbloods is a bad mix.

If you could trade places with one of the other characters in the book, which character would you really not want to be and why?

FYX: Well I damn sure wouldn’t want to be any fucking newb that crossed my path, I’ll tell you that. But our girl Olivia, the lass you might call our “heroine,” she’s got more to lose, and to gain, than I ever did. She’s barely an adult, even by warmie standards, and already up to her ears in hurt. Then we’re asking so much of her. If I had any pity, I’d feel it for her.

How do you feel about the ending of the book without giving too much away?

FYX: I had some fun getting there – and some harsh bumps in the road I’ll say.  What a bloody fucking mess we all made!

What words of wisdom would you give your author if he decided to write another book with you in it?

FYX: I’d say if you ever get the guts to do it instead of writing it, come to our castle stronghold out in The Balks. We’ll bring you into our little club right proper.

Thank you for this interview, Mister Fyx.  Will we be seeing more of you in the future?

FYX: Heh. Depends what you mean by “future” mate.

patrick headshot interviews

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

With the success of his first novel PROGENY from Hobbes End Publishing, Patrick C. Greene became known for a brand of horror as emotional as it is terrifying, as engaging as it is suspenseful. Living at night, deep in the mountains of Western North Carolina with his wife and two sons, Greene expresses his morbid interests via painting and illustration when not writing. In addition to his novels Progeny and The Crimson Calling, the short story collection Dark Destinies, and multiple appearances in both The Endlands and Wrapped anthology series, Greene is currently hard at work on what he hopes to be a perennial Halloween favorite called The Death of October. Follow the author on Facebook.

 

Book Review: ‘Luck Is Just the Beginning’ by Celeste Leon

LuckcoverthumbBased on a true story, Celeste Leon’s beautifully written debut novel is the story of a young man in 1940s Puerto Rico who wins the lottery, only to realize that, as the title states, luck is just the beginning.

Young Ramon is able to see visions, a gift he inherited from his mother. When he sees a number flash across the sky, he decides to buy a complete lottery ticket. At first, he’s thrilled to have won a fortune, for his plan is to go to college, become a dentist, and make the world a better place by helping the people of his village. But, as it turns out, money changes a lot of things—people’s intentions, expectations, desires—even one self’s, and not always for the better. Now, people approach Ramon because they want something from him, and he starts to doubt everyone, even the girl who claims to love him. Likewise, he starts doing things he later regrets.

This is the era of WWII, and in the midst of it all Ramon tries to face the challenges that threaten to destroy his life, especially a man whose envy has made Ramon his target for revenge. Overnight, all facets of Ramon’s life turn upside down—his dwindling family business, his relationship with Elsie, his dream to go to college in the States. At some point, even the police are after him.

The novel is rich with Puerto Rican flavor and historical details, and Leon writes with simplicity yet profound perception about human nature. Ramon is an endearing, utterly likable character—an honest, good-hearted man who makes mistakes yet rises above them.

Luck is Just the Beginning was honored with a Mariposa award for Best First Book in the 2016 International Latino Book Awards, and was also a finalist in the “Fiction: Multicultural” category of the 2016 International Book Awards.

Read my Blogcritics interview with the author.

Find out more about the book on Amazon or from the author’s website.

This review was originally published in Blogcritics Magazine.

Character Interview: Frank Swinicki from Brian W. Matthews’s Horror/Science Fiction thriller, The Conveyance

character interviews logoWe’re thrilled to have here today Frank Swinicki from Brian W. Matthews’s new horror/science fiction thriller, The Conveyance.  Frank is a 42-year-old police detective living in Rock Mills, Michigan.

It is a pleasure to have him with us today at Beyond the Books!

Thank you so much for this interview, Frank.  Now that the book has been written, do you feel you were fairly portrayed or would you like to set anything straight with your readers?

 

Front_Cover_Image_The_Conveyance.jpgThanks for having me, and I appreciate the chance to offer up my side of the story. Brian’s a pretty good guy and all, but come on, do you really think he can capture every part of my charming personality? (Laughs)

 

So, the book—overall, I think I got a fair shake. At first I was upset at being the “sidekick” to the book’s main protagonist, Brad Jordan. But as the story unfolded, I got a larger role in what happens. By the end, I go from sidekick to hero. Well, co-hero would be a better word. Brad also had a little something to do with the outcome.

 

So yeah, I’d like the readers to know, while I’m a pretty cool in the early parts of the book, I end up a major badass by the end.

 

Do you feel the author did a good job colorizing your personality?  If not, how would you like to have been portrayed differently?

 

At times, I do come off as rough around the edges. He wrote me like I didn’t care about the feelings of others, especially toward Ricky Womblic, this grease monkey with a serious hard-on for space travel and aliens. I mean, I liked Ricky a lot, and I really tried to understand his fascination with little green men, but he was just so weird about it. Kinda makes me wonder what he does while watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

 

Anyway, I think Brian could have worked harder at bringing out my more sensitive side.

 

What do you believe is your strongest trait?

 

I’m a get things done kinda guy. Comes with being a cop. You got a problem, I solve it. In a story like this, you need someone with focus.

 

Worse trait?

 

Hmm. Don’t think I have one, but if I had to choose, it would be my impatience. I expect others to work as hard as I do, and I get frustrated if they don’t.

 

If you could choose someone in the television or movie industry to play your part if your book was made into a movie, who would that be (and you can’t say yourself!)?

 

Clint Eastwood! No, wait. He’s too old. How about Russell Crowe? He’s ruggedly handsome. Just not Pauley Shore. God, not him.

 

Do you have a love interest in the book?

 

It’s not that kind of story. My family is my love interest. Brad’s the same way. But I will tell you, there’s one scene in the book that’ll melt the pages, or the circuits if you read on one of those e-reader thingies. Can’t wait to hear how Brian’s mother reacts to that one.

 

At what point of the book did you start getting nervous about the way it was going to turn out?

 

About two-thirds the way in. Brian threw me and Brad into this big fight scene with some bad guys. I lost a vital part of my anatomy (which wasn’t part of my original agreement with Brian, by the way). That’s when I knew things were going south quickly.

 

If you could trade places with one of the other characters in the book, which character would you really not want to be and why?

 

That’s easy—the Green Queen. Didn’t like her. Whenever she was in a scene, she did her best to upstage the rest of us. “Look at me everyone, I’m the Green Queen!” Blah, blah, blah. Nope, didn’t like her at all.

 

How do you feel about the ending of the book without giving too much away?

 

I like it. Full of drama and action. I have a few stunts and stuff that makes it more exciting. It also leaves the door open for the story to continue, if “you know who” wants to go there.

 

What words of wisdom would you give your author if he decided to write another book with you in it?

 

Prequel, Brian. Think prequel.

 

Thank you for this interview, Frank.  Will we be seeing more of you in the future?

 

I hope so. I’d hate to be a one-and-done kind of character.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR 

085-EditWeb

Brian W. Matthews’s latest book is The Conveyance, a horror/science fiction novel about a child therapist who uncovers a secret long kept hidden form the world. Together with his friend, police detective Frank Swinicki, he doggedly follows a trail of murder and madness, eventually exposing a sinister conspiracy that threatens the existence of the human race. The Conveyance can be purchased directly from the publisher at www.journalstone.com or from Amazon.  

Book Spotlight: MacClinton by Sam Griffith

 


Inside the Book:

 

 
Inside The Book
Title: MacClinton
Author: Sam Griffith
Publisher: Conservative Press Books
Pages: 176 pages
Genre: Political Science / Political Satire
 
Book Description:
 
MacClinton, a modern tale of Bill Clinton’s political career told in the format of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. This amusing drama is fleshed out with notes that detail Clinton’s scandals and cover-ups. After reading it, you’ll want to examine the character and actions of political candidates before voting for or against them.

“When a citizen gives his suffrage [vote] to a man of known immorality, he abuses his trust; he sacrifices not only his own interest, but that of his neighbor; he betrays the interest of his country.” (Noah Webster) Although Webster wrote this statement almost two hundred years ago, it is good advice for us today.

MacClinton illustrates this warning as it recounts Bill and Hillary’s immorality, scandals, and cover-ups in an entertaining and enlightening way. From the opening scene with the three *itches meeting Bill MacClinton to the closing scene of George W. Bush’s presidential election victory, you’ll view Bill’s political career and Hillary’s cover-ups for her political ambition in a new light. The preponderance of evidence against the Clintons as fit leaders of America should motivate you to investigate political candidates more closely before voting for anyone who will betray the interest of our country.


Book Excerpt:

*itch 1: When shall we three meet again
            In thunder, lightning or in rain,
            In the district court,
            Or on David Letterman?
*itch 2: When the hurly-burly’s done,
            When the court battles are lost and
won.
*itch 3: Or likely before the setting of
the sun.
*itch 1: Where the place?
*itch 2: At the motel at the edge of
town.
*itch 3: There to meet with MacClinton.
*itches
1-3:
Again!

 

Thus begins MacClinton,
a modern tale of Bill Clinton’s political career told in the format of
Shakespeare’s Macbeth.
 
For More Information:

MacClinton is available at AmazonBarnes & NobleGoodreads

Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads



Meet the Author

 

 

Sam Griffith is a retired Justice on the Texas Twelfth Court of Appeals, a position to which he was elected three times, twice unopposed. As a high school senior, he worked after school each day full time in a manufacturing factory, then worked his way through college and graduate school, and through law school. Before being elected an appellate justice in 2000, he was a trial court judge and trial lawyer. He earned two legal specialization certifications from the Texas State Bar Association’s Board of Legal Specialization, an achievement of less than three percent of Texas lawyers.

Outside of the court room, Judge Griffith taught U.S. Constitutional Law at universities in Iraq and China, preached through northern Iraq and South Sudan, funded twelve water wells in South Sudan, and built homes for earthquake survivors in Nepal.  In addition, he co-founded a vegetable-growing ministry that was featured in a New York Times article and which, in five years provided more than one hundred tons of vegetables for local food banks.
 
For More Information: Author Website Goodreads  


Tour Schedule

 

Character Interview: Joshua Allen from G.A. Minton’s horror/sci-fi novel, TRISOMY XXI

character interview

We’re thrilled to have here today, Joshua Allen, from G.A. Minton’s new horror/sci-fi novel, TRISOMY XXI.  Joshua is a sixteen-year-old high school student living in Tranquil, Arizona.

It is a pleasure to have him with us today at Beyond the Books!

Thank you so for this interview, Joshua.  Now that the book has been written, do you feel you were fairly portrayed or would you like to set anything straight with your readers?

G.A. Minton did a remarkable job portraying me in his horror/sci-fi novel, TRISOMY XXI. There are very few books that have a boy with Down Syndrome as its main character, and the author went into great detail describing everything about me, from my birth to my superhuman transformation. The reader will especially enjoy the many twists and turns the storyline takes, as my friends and I battle a deadly creature from another world. The character of Joshua was actually based on a mentally-challenged cousin of G.A.’s, who shared many wonderful experiences with him during their childhood years. Unfortunately, G.A.’s cousin succumbed to cancer as a young man many years ago.

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000040_00001]Do you feel the author did a good job colorizing your personality?  If not, how would you like to have been portrayed differently?

I think that my personality traits were accurately depicted in the book, given my fantastic metamorphosis, which changed me both mentally and physically. G.A. painstakingly described me “to a tee,” his descriptive words transforming me into a three-dimensional character that the reader could mentally visualize and identify with.

What do you believe is your strongest trait?

The will and intellect to overcome any obstacle that should happen to block my path or deter me from my mission.

Worse trait?

The naiveness of youth, with its inability to recognize that evil comes in all shapes and sizes.

If you could choose someone in the television or movie industry to play your part if your book was made into a movie, who would that be (and you can’t say yourself!)?

If Brad Pitt were only younger! I believe that Dakota Goyo is a skilled teenage actor who could play my part well, but there are also a number of other young movie stars who could skillfully portray me as well.

Do you have a love interest in the book?

Tara Tisdale, a beautiful young girl who accompanies me on my journey into the unknown. She is truly amazing!

At what point of the book did you start getting nervous about the way it was going to turn out?

There’s no predicting what will happen in TRISOMY XXI—the book captivates its reader from the beginning to the very end—making it extremely hard to put it down. Trisomy XXI is unlike any horror book you have ever read!

If you could trade places with one of the other characters in the book, which character would you really not want to be and why?

Niles Slovinsky, because he is such an evil person. When you read the book, you’ll see what I mean.

How do you feel about the ending of the book without giving too much away?

TRISOMY XXI’s unpredictable but awesome ending would mystify even the likes of the great Sherlock Holmes!

What words of wisdom would you give your author if he decided to write another book with you in it?

I would urge him to utilize the same formula for the sequel as he employed in writing TRISOMY XXI, thus ensuring another big hit for its readers.

Thank you for this interview, Joshua.  Will we be seeing more of you in the future?

As prolific a writer as G.A. Minton is, it wouldn’t surprise me at all—but time will only tell!

MintonGA.jpg

About the Author

From his early childhood, G.A. Minton has always been a diehard fan of science fiction and horror. Whenever a scary movie was playing down at the local theatre, he was there in attendance with his friends, loudly screaming in terror alongside them. G.A. enjoys many hobbies, but the game of golf is one of his favorites, having lettered on his high school golf team. Besides writing, he also enjoys reading, traveling, fishing, swimming, snorkeling, working out, listening to hard rock music, and watching great movies—especially those genres that encompass horror, science fiction, mystery, and comedy. G.A. is married, and lives in Texas with his wife, a son and daughter, and two Bengal cats.

Strangely enough, it was only after G.A. was rear-ended by a drunk driver and suffered a closed-head injury, that he developed a newfound passion for writing (even though this story has the makings for a cheesy Stephen King horror novel, it is nonetheless true—he is now called “the savant horror writer” by his friends).

Links to book:

www.amzn.com/1629894443 for TRISOMY XXI paperback on Amazon

www.amzn.com/B01D3OSZ38 for TRISOMY XXI eBook on Amazon

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/trisomy-xxi-g-a-minton/1123520769?ean=9781629894447 for TRISOMY XXI paperback and eBook on Barnes & Noble

https://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=Trisomy+XXI for TRISOMY XXI eBook on Smashwords

http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com/author_g_a_minton.html for TRISOMY XXI paperback and eBook on G.A. Minton’s author webpage at World Castle Publishing website

Links to website and social media:

http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com/author_g_a_minton.html for G.A. Minton author webpage at World Castle Publishing

https://readersfavorite.com/book-review/trisomy-xxi for 5-Star reviews of TRISOMY XXI at book review page on Readers’ Favorite website

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29546925-trisomy-xxi?from_search=true&search_version=service for 5-Star review of TRISOMY XXI at Goodreads website

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15065482.G_A_Minton for G.A. Minton author webpage at Goodreads

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100010658925253 for G.A. Minton Facebook URL page

https://twitter.com/horrornovelist for G.A. Minton Twitter URL page

https://plus.google.com/107199586325928927299/posts for G.A. Minton Google+ URL page

https://www.pinterest.com/gaminton/ for G.A. Minton URL page

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlcJvtdThMo for TRISOMY XXI YouTube book trailer

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