Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

Following on from The Boy On The Beach kindle giveaway, which I ran at the beginning of April.

And the Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ giveaway of ten copies of Carmilla - The Wolves Of Styria, which will run until April 30th.

I have now decided to offer two signed copies of Dark Albion, available to win as Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ giveaways - in a contest which runs from April 18th until April 23rd.

Juliet is trapped in a loveless and abusive marriage. Her husband is a violent bully, intent on making her life into a living hell... Presumably, he has never heard the old adage about 'a woman scorned'.

Vlad has hunted his prey across the major cities of the world for many years, and after arriving amid the bright lights of London, he is excited at the prospect of this new hunting ground... Sometimes though, things don't go quite as planned.

A wonderfully twisted collection of horror stories which occult author - Phillip Cooper, describes as 'great stuff, and a chilling candlelight read!'
Featuring weird and disturbing tales, all of which make up the very strange world of Dark Albion.

http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/sho...

I'd like to wish the very best of luck to all who attempt to win a copy of Dark Albion, or indeed Carmilla - The Wolves Of Styria, too.

Be Lucky!

David

Just a quick shout out to announce another Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ giveaway.

Running between August 8th/15th, this giveaway is an opportunity to win yourself a signed copy of Kaleen Rae: And Other Weird Tales.

http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/sho...

So if you like vampires, witches, werewolves, ghosts and all manner of things which go bump in the night, then get your name down now!
Good luck!

As an extra bonus, for those who like their 'vampires with added bite!' Lonely Is The Night - a story which is featured within the pages of Kaleen Rae: And Other Weird Tales - will be available as a free download on Amazon/kindle, between August 8th/12th.



Good luck to all who enter the giveaway!
And for you kindlings out there, happy reading!

David

This is the cover for my new novella, The Damnation Game. I'm in the process of finalizing some changes to my distribution channels, so I'll update you shortly with a definitive release date. Though both paperback and eBook will be released this month.

The Damnation Game is a novella length tale of the supernatural. The serial killer known as Catholic Jack is a man consumed with murderous intent. Meanwhile, Kate Stringer mourns for her own murdered husband, latest victim of the maniacal killer.

However, unknown to either predator or prey, there is another force now in play, something which lurks among the shadows.

Before the night is through, all involved are destined to learn the intricacies of the damnation game.

Footnote: The paper edition contains the bonus story 'Gloop!' formerly available only in eBook-format.

My new novella, The Damnation Game, is now available for purchase across the universe. (Okay, that may have been a slight exaggeration. But you get my drift, right?)

Doubtless there is an army of Nook users (another exaggeration. I really gotta cut this shit out!) currently cheering very loudly and wondering what the hell is occurring.

Let me explain. A while back I took the decision to pull the majority of my titles from wider distribution, opting instead to tie myself into Amazon's KDP Select program.

Slim sales via those other channels meant that it made good business sense to utilize the perks available to authors loyal to Amazon.
It was the right decision at the time.

However, I am regularly being asked when more of my titles will be back in wider circulation, particularly Carmilla: The Wolves of Styria, and The Cthulhu Child.

I understand the frustration of those using Kobo, Nook, and other such devices, when a title they seek is being cloistered by Amazon.

Hence I have taken the decision to start 'leaking' my titles back into the wider market. Whether this will be the right decision (for my wallet) remains to be seen. Getting things right is still a fine balancing act.

I know I have a wider readership than in earlier times, but only time will tell if that translates across the board enough to cover a loss in Amazon borrows.

Still, we'll give it a go. Hopefully I can cover any losses, and it'll stop me further alienating users of 'other' e-Readers.

Here's to the future. So join me and take a walk into darkness!

The Damnation Game is available in paperback and also via:
Amazon Kindle
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Oyster
Page Foundry
Scribd
Tolino

"Humankind is but the pieces in a game, plastic soldiers waging war between boy gods."

April 19th, 2017, sees the release of my new supernatural mystery novel, The Strange Case at Misty Ridge.

When a young woman turns up at Jack Keswick's door, claiming her home is infested with troublesome spirits, his investigations lead to a haunted cottage, the restless dead, and the revelation of a maleficent force that will forever change his perception of reality.

"The glow offered by the nightlight is gentle, orange-pink even through closed lids, and the distant murmurings of the downstairs television, along with the occasional sounds of laughter–my parents, talking and laughing in tones which soothe–comforts me, and gives reassurance of their close proximity.

I fidget from my side onto my back, and something tickles the top of my thigh. The lightness of the contact induces an involuntary giggle, and a second movement, lower down my leg, is greeted with the same response. Something scurries across my cheek and down my neck, and suddenly I am frightened.

There are things crawling on my legs and up my arms, and even through the cloth of the bodysuit I can feel their weight pressing on my chest. I attempt to open my eyes, but thin legs tangle with fine lashes as they rest upon my lids like coins of the dead."




"The dead are never still, they exist just beyond the corners of our eye, in the barren wasteland beyond our own phantasmagoria, and we, for the most part, remain oblivious to their plight."

The novel is available to pre-order, at the offer price of .99 cents/pence.

It's possible I've gone a bit bonkers! But, hell, it's Chrismastime and we're fast approaching the New Year, so why not see in 2018 with the chance of a few goodies.

I've decided to run multiple Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ Giveaways, so this is a great opportunity to celebrate seeing in the New Year with a *Signed* paperback (or five)!

You can click on individual titles above for further details, or visit my webpage and scroll to select which *Signed* book(s) you would love to win:


Happy Christmas & Happy New Year to one and all!

It was just supposed to be a bit of fun...

An out of hours visit to a remote funeral home. A depraved undertaker whose predilections go beyond a desire to resurrect the dead. A murdered girl bonded to the fiend who stole her life. And a desperate son on the verge of discovering a terrible secret about his missing mother�

When the dead rise.

It doesn’t take long to prove the building is haunted, but there is more to fear than the unfortunate souls trapped within the borders of the Toliver House.

It’s time to run.

Preview

It wasn’t the first time that Morden had stood at the edge of this huge crater anticipating the events ahead. Previously, whenever he’d made late night sojourns to this spot, he would take time to admire the eerie solitude of this bleakly beautiful landscape.

Not tonight, though.

Behind him, two figures moved through the darkness, their bare feet unsteady in the mud as dampened soil bubbled up and lodged between calcified toes; further slowing their crippled and faltering stride. They came to a stop just short of Morden’s shoulder.

A solitary flash of lightning brightened the night, revealing the two forms behind him. Patches of rain-washed skull glinted through thin coverings of hair layering pitted crowns. Unkempt strands hung loose about bony shoulders, and across faces � with impossibly wide mouths � that resembled masks of decayed lint. The two creatures � which may once have passed as feminine � did not look out of place amid this landscape of forlorn desolation.

As he heard them shuffle to a stop, Morden shivered. This damn storm had inflicted a raging headache. How he loathed inclement weather and the way it affected him. Morden’s head felt muzzy, and this in turn made him want to puke: his limbs felt heavy, what the hell was happening? A tingling sensation had begun prickling his arms, the unpleasantness running to the tips of his fingers. Could there be some problem with his heart?

His lips curled to a smile. This seemed doubtful.

He recognized that he was no longer the man he once had been, and he realized the labors of reaching this place had exhausted him; but nonetheless, he’d had little choice other than to make this journey: Needs must.

“Please, don’t do it!�

The Cheerleader’s desperate plea once again flashed into his mind, but this time her words served only to lighten his mood. Her constant interference, and attempts at curbing his actions, made him regret the night which first brought them together. Although, by contrast, the knowledge that his ways so distressed the girl warmed the very core of his being. However, Morden currently had neither the time nor will to contend with thoughts of the girl’s constant whining, and so, for what seemed the umpteenth time over these past several years, he closed his eyes and willed her to be gone from his head. Standing motionless, waiting to see if he had succeeded in banishing her, he considered that maybe their coming together had in fact been a curse placed upon him by some higher power, mocking him, intent on disrupting the course of his greater quest.

The girl continued to be a bane to his existence.

Once he succeeded in quieting his mind, his thoughts returned to the task in hand. He turned up the velvet-trim collar on his overcoat, in a feeble effort to gain a modicum of comfort against the wet and cold. Staring into the depths of the pit below, he considered that this one was probably the largest, and hence likely the most prosperous of the Emerson Slate dig sites. With almost thirty acres of quarry pits, it was difficult not to appreciate this place without making comparison to a moonscape. Usually, even beneath the light of a half moon, each inky concave, in turn pitted with smaller shadow-splashed excavations, gave an impression of impact craters on a scarred celestial body. But on a night such as this, with the landscape blackened by low hanging clouds, featureless and with a wind chill capable of shrinking your face even as bullets of rain punished you, it occurred to Morden this would be a fitting habitat for the dead. This was a desolate and grim wasteland, and for those burdened by the clarity of their situation; that the life they spent so many years bemoaning and the rigors their mortality presented them, this was as good as it was ever going to get. Then, surely, would this not be a suitable panorama for such discarded and troubled souls?

It was a truth he had realized on the night Mary died. And, although there was no logical reason why, or even how, a child might come to know such things, it was this revelation which had initially led him toward this future path. He was only nine years old when tuberculosis stole her away from him, and the trauma of such a loss, it had scarred him deeply. He reached inside the waist pocket of his coat, gently stroking Mary’s favorite silk-scarf, which he kept on his person always, neatly folded and close to hand. He was burdened by the knowledge that the dead faced a future of regret and disappointment � of this he was certain. So, as a younger man he had felt it his duty to give the deceased as good a sendoff from their best years as was possible. His career choice of funeral director, without doubt influenced by Mary’s untimely passing, might almost be considered a calling.

Of course, he had barely been in the job a matter of weeks before he realized the dead held a far more intimate fascination for him. One that, although he hadn’t perhaps realized at the time, first stirred within him on the day he visited Mary’s open casket. And this, in turn, had led him on toward far darker quests.
Inspecting a jagged pile of slate on the ground beside him, he considered the amassed weight of the mainly triangular strips of stone. The dead girl they had brought in that afternoon, Casey Fisher, it was doubtful she weighed more than a hundred soaking wet. Estimating there was perhaps eighty pounds of slate at his feet � it would have to do. Nobody was going to notice if a coffin was twenty pounds light. Damn it. He much preferred cremations; they proved far easier for his purposes.

Morden took a sharp intake of breath, a sudden fluttering of excitement beating his chest. His head still felt fuzzy, and his body continued to tingle unpleasantly, but the thought of what was soon to be enjoyed; it thrilled him.

He turned to the solemn figures behind him, and set his companions about their labors.

End of preview

I hope you've enjoyed this snippet from The Bones of Morden Gray. It's a dark little tale about why you should never go sneaking around in (supposedly) deserted buildings late at night. Sure, it was always going to end well, right?
The Kindle eBook is slated for a June 1st release, and can be preordered for the promotion price of .99c/.99p.




The paperback is already available on Amazon, and this is priced $ - It's unfortunate, but I've had to restrict any wider distribution on the hard copies in an attempt to combat the ever-inflating costs of printing.




Finishing off writing this novel has taken a long time, and that has been for a myriad of reasons: the majority of which haven't been good.
Suffice to say, on a personal level it's been a tough twelve months, just as it has for others I love and care about.

My appearances on Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ have been sparse for a while. So, as well as dedicating this book to my family and loved ones, it is also for you, dear readers. Thank you for sticking with me, and for continuing to read and support the books during my absence.

Most of all though, this one is for Michael.
Sleep well, brother. You will always be missed.