Luv Saving Money

Gabi
has some extraordinary talents. Some might call them supernatural,
but for her they’re just part of everyday life. What she knows
about the supernatural would give most humans nightmares forever.
Ridding the streets of bad-ass creatures of the night is Gabi’s
other job. Taking up the mantle of her father’s legacy, she is aHunter for the Societas Malus Venatori. The first female ever
bestowed the title. Her day job is a little less dangerous. Most of
the time.

Being
ambushed and kidnapped by the sinfully sexy Master Vampire of the
City should have been just another night on the job, except for the
fact that Julius has other plans for her. When he reveals that his
nemesis wants control of the City and has plans to fill it with
Demons from the Etherworld, creating an army of Ghouls and turning
humans into nothing more than cattle to feed his Clan, Gabi must
choose her path. She must decide whether to join with Julius in a
stand against the Demon Master or flee the City with her friends and
family, leaving the Vampires to wage their own war and the rest of
the residents to their fate.

But
it’s not in Gabi’s nature to back down from a fight, no matter
how impossible the odds. As the Malus Venatori prepare for war, Gabi
finds herself pulled deeper into Julius’s world and she makes some
disturbing discoveries about her unusual supernatural abilities. Her
existence might just be the answer to a mystery as old as the Vampire
race. Even more unsettling than that is her undeniable attraction to
Julius and the taste of his blood. But before she can come to terms
with her conflicting desires they must all survive the Demon
onslaught and find a way to safeguard the truth of her
heritage.

While
the supernatural bad guys know her as Angeli Morte, her friends call
her Hellcat!

If
you like your heroine smart, sassy and absolutely kick-ass and your
Vampire hero sexy as sin and twice as dangerous you’re going to
love the Hellcat Series.

Contains
adult content.

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Gabi
is striving to get back to life as usual. Dealing with the aftermath
of being kidnapped and tortured by Dantè, wrapping her head around
being a Dhampir, and trying to figure out Julius’s unexpected
attitude as he withdraws from her and becomes cool and distant. As if
that isn’t enough to cope with, she receives the disturbing news
that someone she cares about has been dragged unwillingly into her
world after a brutal and calculated Werewolf attack.

As
rogue Werewolves run rampant through the City, it becomes clear there
will be no gentle reintroduction to Gabi’s duties as Hunter for the
Societas Malus Venatori. Once again the Vampires join forces with the
SMV to contain the threat, but the odds seem stacked against them and
the casualties keep mounting. Tensions run high as the perpetratorsmanage to stay one step ahead of the Hunters and the senseless
violence continues. No one suspects betrayal from within, until
Gabi’s pets unmask a traitor. But the traitor isn’t the real
threat and the war has only just begun.

This
time their nemesis isn’t playing by any rules and no one is safe in
this deadly, new game. Not even the Master Vampire of the City. As
the undeniable chemistry between Gabi and Julius reignites, they
realise the danger isn’t only to the human population of the City,
but threatens to overwhelm them all. What they finally uncover brings
Gabi into very real conflict with the SMV Council and leaves her
questioning her life-long allegiances.

Not
all monsters come in obvious monster packages and sometimes what
you’re fighting to protect is what you should be fighting
against.

Not
everyone will walk away from this fight intact.

Strap
in, hang on and grab a breath while you can. All hell is about to
break loose!

“The
Hellcat series is one wild ride … one of the best new series to hit
the dark urban fantasy world, ever! Two words: more, please.”
Diane Nelson (Sand in my Shoes Reviews)

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For
the first time in months the City is peaceful, so peaceful that
Gabi’s suspension from the Societas Malus Venatori doesn’t feel
like a punishment. Her relationship with Julius is stronger than ever
and Kyle has finally found his soul mate, even if he seems to need
some convincing. Gabi thinks boredom is her most serious problem. She
couldn’t be more wrong.

The
visitor Julius has been both expecting and dreading arrives, bringing
with him dire news. An old enemy, out to destroy them, has revealed
to the Masters of the Vampire race that Gabi is a Dhampir. The
visitor’s presence also answers the question that’s been
simmering in Gabi’s head for years; the truth of her origins. This
truth brings with it a deeper understanding of the implications of
her very existence, and she doesn’t like what she discovers. But
it’s too late to change what’s been done and Julius must now
answer to the Princeps’ Court.

As
Gabi makes plans to leave the City, drawing danger away from friends
and family, a dark prophesy by the Magi Oracles forces her to change
course. She will not be leaving the City alone, and she will not be
running from the threat. She, Julius and a handful of others will be
heading straight into the mouth of the beast. They must presentthemselves at Court before the Princeps travel to the City and
inadvertently uncover one of the most closely guarded secrets of the
Magi world.

While
the Princeps wear a face of impartiality and civility, what boils
beneath the surface is a storm of selfishness, greed, lust and
perversion. Danger lurks in every corner and it soon becomes clear
that someone is determined to ensure that Gabi will never get the
chance of a fair hearing.

Old
friends and old enemies do what they have always done best, while new
friends and new enemies emerge at every turn. Only one thing is sure;
it’ll be a cold day in Hell before Hellcat goes down without a
fight.

Put
the coffee on and warm up your page-turning finger, it’s going to
be a long night.

This
is a full length novel.

Please
note this novel is written in UK English and contains some adult
content.

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When
Werewolves start turning up dead, drained of blood, the City’s
Alphas turn accusing eyes on the Vampires. It doesn’t take much to
get the newly-formed Werewolf Alliance riled up. But once Vampires
start dying the same way it becomes clear they have a mutual
enemy.

An
unexpected visitor brings news that vulnerable supernaturals from
neighbouring towns are also being kidnapped and murdered, and that
the City seems to be the focus of the violence. With no idea of the
motives behind the attacks, Gabi and the rest of the City’s
defenders immediately commit to eliminating whoever, or whatever, is
behind the bizarre and gruesome acts.

Adding
to the chaos, demons suddenly attack in unprecedented numbers,
stretching the City’s supernatural resources thin. The reappearance
of an old foe from the Etherworld sparks fears that Mariska is back
and still seeking revenge. And that once again, she’s made
powerful, dark alliances. When all fingers point to something
hellbent on uncovering whatever secrets the City hides, eyes finally
turn to the Magi.

 

A
war will be waged for the greatest supernatural prize of them all,
and the outcome is impossible to predict. Not even the presence of a
powerful Princep and the shocking revelation of Julius’s true
potential can assure victory for the pure of heart.

This
time Gabi is determined to get Mariska in her crosshairs, and she’s
ready and willing to even the score. But there is no guarantee that
everyone will survive this trip to Hell and back!

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The
City’s supernatural community is still in mourning, but there’s
no time to spend licking their wounds. The face of the City has
changed forever and now her citizens must keep up or risk succumbing
to the darkness.

As
the Magi withdraw to protect themselves and their vulnerable power
source, it falls to the Werewolves to step into the void left by a
crippled SMV. The Vampires are more than willing to help, but things
are moving in the shadows; bad things that threaten to destroy
everything Julius has worked for. Princep scheming seems suspicious,
but in truth the greater danger lurks much closer to home.

When
one of Gabi’s Werewolf friends is kidnapped by tech-savvy
vigilantes it seems like an open and shut case of humans fearing what
they do not understand. But as Julius travels from the City to answer
the Princeps’ summons, leaving Gabi in the relative safety of the
Clan, it soon becomes clear that they’ve misjudged the real
enemy.

Left
confused and floundering, it’s the Princep Benedict who finally
provides the information they desperately seek. But his answers do
not come without a price.

Defending
their beloved City may seem overwhelming, but, come Hell or high
water, Hellcat and Co will do whatever it takes.

Batten
down the hatches, a tempest is imminent.

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Just
a few months ago Gabi thought her life was damn near perfect. She
could never have imagined that meeting one man would spark a chain of
events that would change everything. The only resemblance to her
previous life is her relentless hunt for supernatural criminals.
Right now, her world has narrowed to two points of focus; co-leading
the newly formed Special Investigations Department alongside Julius,
her Master Vampire Consort, and searching for the traitorous Vampire
Caspian and his pregnant Dark Magus cohort, Mariska. Catching up with
friends and making peace with her mother are also on her agenda for
the week, but life may just have other plans.

Eventhe most rookie supernatural investigator would figure out that
things aren’t going well for the Magi of the City, but the High
Council is maintaining its silence and remaining distant from the
other races. The safety and security of the City’s population is
falling ever more heavily on the shoulders of the fledgling Werewolf
Alliance, leaving Kyle, Trish and the other Pack Alphas to handle a
rising influx of demons committed to infiltrating the City and
wreaking havoc.

There
are many scenarios that keep Gabi from her sleep, and when one of
those concerns becomes a sickening reality, it rocks her to the core.
Taking one of those most dear to her is a dangerous game, one that
few would play, knowing what she and Julius are capable of. The list
of suspects is short and the guilty party soon shows their hand, but
is this all just a ruse and what could they hope to accomplish by
riling up such powerful enemies?

There
is no rest for the team as, with one emergency over, they are handed
a scrap of information that will ultimately lead them straight to
Caspian and Mariska. But are they truly ready for the final
standoff?

Who
will make the ultimate sacrifice and how will the rest deal with the
repercussions of an ancient prophesy that culminates in the birth of
Mariska’s twin children?

This
is the nail-biting conclusion to the Hellcat Series.

Buckle
up boys and girls – there’s turbulence ahead.

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And
yet all of them know this peace is an illusion; a small space in time
to rest and regroup. Because the Decuria still exist in the shadows
and the Prophesy calls to all sides. The battle of the millennium is
looming and only one side can win.

A
new player has joined the game as old foes prepare to once more roll
the dice. The board pieces are set, the gameplan is decided and the
protectors of the City are the only ones who don’t know the
rules.

Kyle
and Trish have the family they never dared to wish for. Not only two
daughters but an ever-growing, ever-strengthening Werewolf Pack. The
love and security of family is everything they desired, but the
weight of responsibility is burdensome and they can never let down
their guard. Just when they thought everything was black and white,
they are faced with a new choice; one that is all shades of grey, onethat could change the Werewolf world forever.

Still
reeling from the shock of the decision they must make, the fragile
peace is inevitably broken, leaving the Pack blind-sided and chasing
their tails. It will take everything they have to keep their family
and friends safe. They will have to find strength in their weaknesses
and vulnerability in their strengths if they are to survive this
assault. Can they ever be prepared for the consequences of that which
has been prophesied?

Fasten
that safety belt and grab a handhold, this will not be a quiet Sunday
afternoon drive.

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Sharon
has been calling herself a writer since she was eight years old. She
wrote her first auto-biography at age ten. As a teenager, she was
teased about being a witch, because she wore lots of black and walkedaround with her black, Oriental cat on a lead. She never disagreed
too loudly, after all, that may have drawn attention to the herd of
unicorns that lived in her back garden.

Though
she has had many jobs over the years, her favourite is, without
doubt, being paid to write about the characters who take up residence
in her head. After an early foray into writing for children, Sharon
discovered Urban Fantasy; the genre that felt as though it had been
created with her in mind. She loves nothing more than to create
strong-willed, female lead characters, who challenge those around
them almost as much as they challenge themselves.

Sharon
also loves animals of all shapes and sizes. She has owned all the
usual suspects one would keep as a pet, and a few more exotic ones
thrown in for good measure. She spent her teens working at a tourist
farm and animal park, and as a result has handled everything from
porcupines and warthogs, to ferrets and hedgehogs. She has been
surrogate mom to many orphans including; kittens, lambs and an eagle
owl. No matter how hard she tries, animals always seem to steal the
limelight in her novels.

Website

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A Cat’s Chance in Hell:
“They’re still human,” Gabi whispered, not sure if she was speaking to herself or Julius.
“They could still be infected,” Julius warned. “Maybe they haven’t had time to become fully Ghoul
yet. How long does the transformation take?”
“I don’t know.” Gabi replied.
“How long have you been here?” Julius demanded of them.
They all just looked at him in utter terror, not one of them could get a word out, and the one who
had been moaning began to cry softly.
“Bugger, they’re scared shitless,” Gabi cursed roundly. “We’ll leave them here for now. Byron will
know what to do with them. Let’s carry on and see what other horrors this crypt holds.” They backed
out of the cave-like room and Julius shot the bolt back in place.
As they headed towards the next doorway, the acrid stink of burnt flesh, hair and clothing came
wafting down from the entranceway. Apparently, the flame-throwers had arrived.
They checked three more open rooms and found all of them in much the same state as the first,
give or take a body or three. Gabi had begun holding her breath whenever they entered one — the
stench was stomach churning, she was sure she wouldn’t feel like eating for a week.
The next door they came to was closed. The sounds from the other side seemed familiar, almost
identical to what they had heard from the other occupied room. If anything, the sniffling sounded
more like crying. They didn’t let down their guard and entered the same way as before, quickly and
ready for anything.
On the pallets this time was a woman holding a small body in her lap. She was facing away from
the door, her shoulders hunched protectively as she sniffled over the limp bundle in her arms. Gabi
froze in shock. A mother and child, in these conditions? Her stomach rolled nauseously but her
anger burned white hot. She unfroze and moved closer to the pair, wanting to see if there was any
hope of saving the child, though she could only hear one heartbeat besides her own.
As she bent towards the woman, she heard Julius say, “No Gabi, I don’t…” and in that instant the
woman struck. Hurling the body of the child off her, she spun and plunged a splintered shard of wood
straight into Gabi’s side.
“No, you can’t have her!” the woman shrieked. “Child of Satan. She’s mine. You can’t have her.”
The woman was raving now, screaming as she gathered up the pitifully small body and backed into a
corner like a brutalised animal.
“Gabrielle,” Julius shouted in alarm. He reached her before reality did and caught her as she
swayed towards the dirt floor, her hand clutching at the crudely made stake protruding from just under
her right ribs.
“Fuck,” she said slowly as she felt hot, sticky blood seep onto her hand.
*******************
The flames in the fire-place suddenly surged brighter, as though hit by a blast of oxygen, and in
the brief surge of amber light Gabi saw Julius’s eyes flare with their own dark flame. He quickly
dropped his gaze from hers and turned his head to stare out into the night. “In fact, I think it’s
probably a good time for me to leave. I just needed to know that you were alright.”
The need inside Gabi flared more insistently, resisting the thought of him leaving, and demanding
she act to draw him closer.
“Why should you leave, it is your room isn’t it?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from betraying
her desperation.
He turned his face back towards her, a strange kind of anguish sharpening his features. “I,” he
began, then broke off, as his eyes stroked down the length of her body and legs, lying sprawled
across the bed.
Gabi realised she was wearing only a loosely buttoned man’s silk shirt and nothing else. All her
clothes must’ve been covered in blood.“I’m not sure I could… resist,” he continued finally, “if I come any closer to you. You call to me like
a Siren.”
She watched him swallow convulsively.
“I said come here,” she enunciated the words slowly and forcefully.
He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “I’m not sure exactly what’s happening right now,
I’ve never felt anything like it, but I don’t want you regretting your actions in the morning and hating
me for it.” He forced out the words through a tightly clenched jaw. “I need to go.” He set the
wineglass on a low table and stood up abruptly, as ungracefully as she’d ever seen him move, and
headed towards the closed bedroom door.
“No,” she said low and fervently. Before he could reach the door, she was standing in front of it.
Moving quicker than she’d ever moved before, she turned the key in the lock and spun to face him,
leaning back against the handle so he’d have to go through her to open it.
“Last chance, Gabrielle,” he ground out warningly as he placed his hands against the door on
either side of her face. “Last. Chance.”
She answered him by slowing beginning to undo the buttons down the front of the silk shirt she
was wearing.
*****************************
Sometime during the discussion Razor had wandered in, Gabi had automatically pushed away
from the table to allow the huge cat to climb on her lap, though he was far too big to sit there
comfortably. He was just trying to get comfortable when he noticed Athena across the table. He went
dead still for a quarter of a second, and then lunged onto the table directly towards Athena. Gabi
made a wild grab for him, missing completely, and Kyle’s face took on a horrified expression. But
Razor stopped dead a few millimetres from Athena’s shocked face, sat down and stared into her eyes
with baleful malevolence.
Athena sat back very cautiously, as though confronted by a wild tiger, and asked out the corner of
her mouth, “What. Is. That? And is it going to eat me?”
It was the first time any of them had ever heard Athena sound anything except controlled and
businesslike. She actually sounded terrified.
“Razor!” Gabi called sharply, “Don’t torment strangers, it’s not polite.”
“Meet Gabi’s cat, Razor,” Kyle said sardonically. “Though we use the term ‘cat’ loosely around
here. He may take a chunk out of you, but I don’t think he’d actually eat you.”
“I doubt he would enjoy the taste of witch anyway,” Gabi muttered under her breath.
“In that case, I don’t think he likes me very much,” Athena said stiffly; ignoring her comment, and
drawing in a deep, steadying breath as Razor disdainfully made his way back across the table to
Gabi. He gave her a loving head butt, before hopping to the floor with a grace that belied his
incredible size, and exiting the room with an arrogant swish of his tail.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle commented mildly, breaking the tension. “He doesn’t like anybody,
except Gabi.”

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Because
the man is gorgeous. Ripped. Mesmerising. A little strange. And when
she is around him, her body melts into a pile of
goo.

Infuriating.

Marcun
Clacka has come to Earth to locate a precious jewel for his client.
He doesn’t like Earth; the people are inferior and, unlike his pack
mates, he does not wish to find a human female to mate.

Humans
are trouble. Fragile. And loud.

Except
the tiny female who lives next to him isn’t too annoying. And she
is quite attractive. Foolishly courageous. Yes, perhaps he could mate
with her.

There
is just one problem. Sky Warriors mate in packs. One female. Six
males.

And
Marcun does not intend to share the little female.

Mine.

Her heart raced, her palms growing even more sweaty and the plate of brownies she held slipped through her
grasp. His reflexes quick, he reached out and grabbed the plate before it could smash to the ground.
“T-thank you,” she managed to spit out. Her manners so ingrained that even through the strange wash of
heat swamping her body, she somehow managed to speak.
Yay! Go her!
Now if she could just remember how to speak some other words she might manage to get out of here without
making a complete fool of herself.
He didn’t help her loss of brain function. He just stood there, staring down at her with a quizzical look on his
stunning face, watching her as though she were a puzzle. Couldn’t he help her out by covering himself up?
Then she might just remember why she was here, or what her own name was.
They continued to stare at each other. Say something. Anything.
“Brownies. Eden. Hi. Shirt.”

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Multiple
plot lines skillfully braid the tales of resistance fighters in
various parts of the country. Whistler is the hard-bitten commander
of a military unit in Texas. Karen, a former congressional aide,
stumbles through the radioactive rubble of Washington DC. Molly, a
leftwing columnist in San Francisco, finally puts her talents to good
use on the underground radio as the voice of the resistance. Alec, a
famous Hollywood actor, loses his wife and daughter in the nuclear
attack on Los Angeles and becomes a legendary fighter, inventing the
gun that bears his name.

A
vivid imagining of an America gone horribly wrong, written in
gripping detail.

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Sent
to my grandparent’s house in Tuscon, Arizona when things were tough
at home. I was pretty damn lost, as my grandparents were largely
strangers to me. My older brother, a more taciturn type, refused to
discuss what was going on. Fortunately, like so many kids before me,
I was rescued by literature. Or, at least, by fiction. In a tiny used
bookstore that was just one block up from a dirt road, I discovered
that some good soul had unloaded his entire collection of Edgar Rice
Burroughs’ “John Carter of Mars” series in Ballantine
Paperback. Moved by some impulse, I spent my RC Cola money on the
first book, “A Princess of Mars.”

I
think what struck me was how these books were possessed of magic:
they were able to transport me far from this dusty land of relatives
who I didn’t know and relatives pretended not to know me to another
dusty land of adventure, heroism, nobility, and even love. It was the
first magic I’d encountered that wasn’t a patent fraud, and when
I closed the stiff paperback with the lurid images on the cover, I
decided it was the kind of magic I wanted to dedicate the rest of my
life to mastering. And, thus, I was saved.

Since
then, I’ve never looked back. I’ve written poems, short stories
(twice runner-up in the Playboy college fiction contest), plays
(winning some regional awards back East and a collegiate Historical
Play-writing Award), and screenplays. I’m a member of the WGAw,
with one unproduced screenplay sold to Fox Television.

Along
the way, I’ve done the usual starving artist jobs. Been a janitor,
a waiter, a clerk in a bookstore. I was the 61st Aviation Rescue
Swimmer in the Coast Guard (all that Tarzan reading wasn’t wasted).
I’m also not a bad cook, come to think of it.

Currently,
I’m a husband, father, and cat-owner. I’m an avid bicyclist and
former EMT. I live in Southern California with my lovely wife. My
friends call me “Griff,” my parents call me “Roy,” and my
college-age son calls me “Dadman.” It’s a good life.

On August 23, millions of people awoke to a new world. Whether it was brave or not, only time would
tell. But it was certainly different. And for nearly a third of the people alive that morning, it would also be
their final day on the planet.
The President and his cabinet had been evacuated to Bunker 7 in the Alleghenies. Cheyenne Mountain
had been closed the year before. As secrets went, the mountain’s location and purpose were as shroudedin mystery as Rock Hudson’s private inclinations. Bunker 7 was reached by a one-hundred-and-twenty-
five-mile maglev train ride over two hundred feet underground. The entire bunker complex had been

burned out of the mountain from beneath to reduce any impact on the structural stability of the solid
granite. Power was provided by a small nuclear reactor that was based on a Navy submarine design.
Much of the layout of Bunker 7 reflected training and operational insight gained from the Navy. After all,
if the government came to Bunker 7, it was likely they might not see the light of day for many long
weeks. Why not use the experience of those who had already been through that kind of life?
Bunker 7 had the latest in communications, remote control, and protection against many an attack.
What it didn’t have was Laura. She was visiting with an elderly aunt in New Braunfuels, Texas. The
President sent a detachment of Special Ops forces to protect his wife and return her to the Bunker safely.
That decision made, the President could turn his attention to the attacks on the nation. It was clear
nuclear devices had gone off in a number of major cities across the United States. “Los Angeles, San
Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Dallas, Kansas City, Omaha, Washington.” The list was growing as reports
came in from around the country.
Israel, God bless ’em, had come through. As far as Bunker 7 could tell, Israel was on full alert. They’d
offered sanctuary to any US soldiers who could make it to their borders. American troops throughout the
Arab world were under attack by various jihadist factions, but these actions appeared more opportunistic
than rigorously planned, as had been the assault on America. Apparently, the attackers reasoned that with
the Great Satan staggered by the attacks and Allah on their side, they would be able to overwhelm the
grunts and the jarheads on their own. So far, this reasoning had proven false. The Marines and the Army
were holding their own, their weapons and electronics not affected by the EMF pulses that had battered
North America. A lot of martyrs were being sent to Paradise, with their ticket being punched courtesy of
the United States military.
There was worse news to come. The Chinese decided to enter the war.

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Terror
Nine:

 

In
her very scant spare time, she enjoys watching Japanese Anime and
reading vampire stories…along with other genres of great fiction,
as well as riding every roller coaster she encounters in both her
hometown and away at signings. An advocate for good health and
ketogenic eating, her favorite foods are bulletproof coffee,
cashew-flour crust pizza and treats made with xylitol and almond,
coconut or cashew flours.

Future
dreams include a cabin boasting a roaring fire, isolated inside a
snow-filled wood in the Yukon—the perfect writing spot—and the
completion of dozens of future novels and stories. A Rabbit Rescue
fanatic and loving bunmom, she also hopes to help rescues all over
the world save many innocent lives.

The date was December 1 st , twenty-two long, boring days before school let out for Christmas break, and
it was snowing like hell. I’d never admit it to anyone, but I was slightly creeped out by the murderous
details in the story I’d just been listening to. For some reason, watching little Lamia creep off into the
woods alone disturbed me even further. I yanked the red-and-white Beats earbuds—an early present
from my dad, who was equally proud of my Audible habit—from my ears only to find myself surrounded
by the eerie soundlessness which always seemed to accompany a heavy snowfall. I felt like all the
normal noises had been sucked away from the air around me, completely.
All I could hear as I continued toward the spot where Lamia had disappeared was the soft groan of my
boots sinking into the thick carpet of icy fluff beneath me. “Hey, Kid!” I called out, but she ran on as if
she hadn’t heard me, the snow muffling my voice as it had all other sound in our little corner of the
world. She hadn’t turned her head in response or even slowed the pace of her run a tick. When I
reached the line of trees, I hesitated. Must’ve been the dread the story I’d been listening to had
inspired, I told myself, but I was angry in the space it took my heart to pump out another beat.
“Shit, really?” I mumbled under my breath. “That kid’s not even old enough to go to school, and she ran
in there like she was the one born with the nuts… Awwww, to hell with it.” I slid the backpack from my
shoulder so that I could enter the woods as unhindered as possible and dove in. I’d never admit I did so
with my eyes closed.
As the squeak of the snow under my feet became the only sound—I’d lovingly packed my precious
earbuds into a special pocket reserved only for them—echoing softly off the damp-dark tree trunks, I
tried to brush off that tickle of fear which had begun to climb each individual vertebrae in my back like a
lizard inching along a palm frond. After all, I’d always wished to see something scary, gone in search of
ghosts on more than one occasion. Always hoped to find some kind of proof to turn all those journal
entries into truth. So many of the early settlers had written accounts of seeing or hearing things that
didn’t belong in the realm of the living. How could so many of them have been wrong? But as much as
I’d searched the woods ringing the whole of Whispering Woods Drive, and even the deserted, burnt-out
shell of the Henderson place which stood waiting for the insurance money to come through so they
could rebuild, I’d never seen a whisper of vapor, never heard so much as a whisper that couldn’t be
explained away by the logical or mundane thing which had made the sound. Of course, everyone in
Moon had seemed to stop writing about ghosts, abruptly, in 1890. Our history teacher had told us this
happened because that had been the real beginning of scientific advancement, bringing about all the
means to discover those logical explanations I mentioned previously to explain away all the strange
things they couldn’t before. The end of superstition giving way to the birth of rationale. Still, I’d always
hoped…
It was the weird smell which stopped me in my tracks. Earthy…savory…familiar. My mother burned sage
incense often in our home; it was one of her favorite scents. It had irked me for years because I’d justknown she was chasing all the ghosts away with the smoke even though several people on the internet
were of the opinion you could only use a sage smudging stick to cleanse a house. I’d seen where one
person commented on Yahoo Answers that three or four incense sticks bound together could be used in
place of one, so I’d tried to console myself with the fact my mother only burned one at a time.
Before I laid eyes on her, I heard her. It was really bizarre to hear a child chanting…like something out of
a ChildrenoftheCorn-esque horror movie.
“Air, fire, water, earth. Cleanse, dismiss, dispel.” She repeated the prayer over and over, and I must’ve
listened to it twenty times before I calmed enough to peek out from behind the large tree trunk I’d been
resting my back against. Lamia held an actual smudge stick… I’d seen enough of them on the internet
and my favorite shows to know what one looked like.
“You little bitch…” I growled under my breath. No wonder I’d never seen so much as a parlor trick
performed by a poltergeist. Between Lamia and my sage-burning mother, no self-respecting ghost
would come within a mile of Whispering Woods Drive. But what had Lamia seen or heard that would
prompt a four-year-old to ghostbust the woods surrounding her home?

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I
had the idea for Dunn years ago, when some one I knew had a friend
who got involved in a similar cult. I started writing the first
incarnation of the novel, whilst teaching English in China, but came
back and changed most of it after my son was born. The beginning and
ending have changed, thanks to the guidance from an award winning
author and playwright who has basically tutored me. My writing has
developed because of his guidance and I am now really happy with
dunn. It’s ready to go. I hope you will enjoy it.

Prologue

When does a story start? When the action starts? When a life starts changing? Or when a life is
formed? Surely a story isn’t complete without the whole picture. A background canvas on which a life is
slowly painted, building up in layers as the years add depth and character. But you won’t care about
that. You won’t care about my whole history. You’ll only want the juicy stuff – the dirt on Yvette Blake;
my reasons for joining the Saviours. So, let’s start with why I joined. Let’s start with my darling wife
Sophie – the mad witch who ruined my life.

T
The best thing about trying to get money out of people for charity is that they usually trust
you already. You must be a nice guy if you are working for such a noble cause and for peanuts
as well, they assume. Because you already have their trust half the battle is won. Sure, they
often walk past with no more than a ‘sorry man’ but pick the right ones and you’re home and
dry. Pick the guilty ones and they’ll sign up without a fight. Sophie looked like one of those, and
I saw her coming a mile away.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered, “and listen carefully to my voice. You are lost … Lost in
a wilderness of failure, scavenging small scraps of success to stay alive. You are alone.”
And suddenly, in that room full of people, knee brushing that of the scary man next to me,
a panic gripped me – because I was alone.
I was alone in a storm of a world.
I was alone and no one I knew could help me – the only hope was Yvette. And her voice
was a beacon.

“Right, who wants to go first?” I asked.
“I’ll do it,” offered Susie, squeezing past the others in pointy boots. Her eyes met mine
for a moment before the attendant blindfolded her.
“I trust you,” she said. “You can do it, Aidan.”
“Name?” snapped the attendant.
“Aidan,” I said jovially. “Aidan Dunn and this is -”
“The leader’s name is sufficient thank you, Mr Dunn. Please take your place by obstacle

one.”
I shrugged and led Susie to the first challenge – two narrow wooden planks leaning either
side of a tractor tire on the floor to form a precarious hillock.
“Okay, Susie,” I said as we reached the start. “The first thing we have got is a ramp
balanced – “
“No describing the obstacles!” snapped the attendant scribbling on her clipboard. “Minus
five points.”

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