The Hunter’s Daughter by Nicola Solvinic – Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza



Winter Solstice
By Nicola Solvinic

The sun god is gone
He stripped the leaves when he went
Trampled the grasses 
And swept into the bronze sunset

The winter god is here
The stag-horned watcher
Known only by cloven tracks in the snow
And the weight of his gaze under snow-spangled lashes

Heavy twitching branches of green
Once obscured the moon in summer
That seething night
Of cicadas, crickets, bullfrogs singing 

Night’s perfectly still now
Except for the crunch of snow 
And the moon burns through skeletons of bare trees
With the thousand flickers of dead stars

Underground, curled in thick earth
Prey dreams of summer days, 
He will dig it up, drag it, bellowing and twitching
To the surface

In the red and white field
Prey races across the snows
He will overtake it, felling it
In a tangle of broken legs and sinew

He is the hunter in both seasons, king of these woods
Seething and silent
Searching out his precious sacrifices
Sunless, in shadow, he reigns.



The Hunter’s Daughter 
Nicola Solvinic 

Genre: Supernatural Mystery, Serial Killer Thriller
Publisher: ‎Berkley 
Release Date: May 14, 2024
Hardcover: ‎ 384 pages
ISBN-10: ‎0593639723
ISBN-13: ‎978-0593639726

Book Description:

A hypnotic, sinister debut mystery about a seemingly good cop who is secretly the daughter of a notorious serial killer.

Anna Koray escaped her father’s darkness long ago. When she was a girl, her childhood memories were sealed away from her conscious mind by a controversial hypnosis treatment. She’s now a decorated sheriff’s lieutenant serving a rural county, conducting an ordinary life far from her father’s shadow. 

When Anna kills a man in the line of duty, her suppressed memories return. She dreams of her beloved father, his hands red with blood, surrounded by flower-decked corpses he had sacrificed to the god of the forest. 

To Anna’s horror, a serial killer emerges who is copying her father – and who knows who she really is. Is her father still alive, or is this the work of another? Will the killer expose her, destroying everything she has built for herself? Does she want him to?

But as she haunts the forest, using her father’s tricks to the hunt the killer, will she find what she needs most…or lose herself in the gathering darkness? 

Penguin     Amazon


Excerpt:

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this, Elena.”

A soft voice echoed from the other side of the house. I turned my gaze to a pile of rotted fallen beams. My dad sat there quietly in the dark, perched as he would in a tree stand in the forest. His hat was low over his head, and his rifle was slung over his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out at all.”

I whimpered.

He sighed.

“Are you a monster?” I demanded. The word didn’t seem adequate. “Monster” sounded like a word for fairy tales. Not my beloved dad.

He looked at the bodies arranged around the room. “Maybe.”

He stretched his legs and slid down the pile. I backed up against the rusted stove. Liquid sloshed, and something cold and wet splashed down my side. I recognized the smell immediately: curdled blood. A metal bucket turned over and crashed on the floor, spilling the rest of the blood over my sneakers.

I was frozen. I saw the outline of the door, and I should’ve run. But I was rooted in place, as motionless and helpless as any of these women.

My dad loomed over me. His face was strange, his eyes too dark and still. This man who stood over me was not my dad. He was some changeling who had come to take him, leaving an evil shell in his place. A monster.

“What have you done with my dad?” I croaked.

He reached out to touch my cheek. I flinched.

“Your dad is gone.” His voice was a low hiss, like rain in a gutter.

And I knew then what I saw. It was my dad’s Forest God, the one he called Veles, dark and terrible and devouring everything under this roof. He wanted me. I didn’t know if he meant to consume me like those other women or if the Forest God was wanting to do to me as he was doing to my dad, wearing my skin like his own . . .

The door crashed open. The Forest God spun, reaching for his rifle, but he was tackled by a snarling dog. Percival.

An armed shadow stood in the doorway. Agent Parkes. “Freeze,” he ordered.

The Forest God had no intention of obeying anyone’s orders. He wrestled with the dog, and the rifle went off. A new hole was blown in the roof, and I was partially blinded by muzzle flash and deafened by a gunshot in a closed space.

“Drop it!” Parkes commanded. His voice was faint and tinny over the ringing in my ears.

The Forest God scrambled away from the dog, kicking Percival in the chest. He sighted his rifle on the dog.

I screamed.

The Forest God hesitated for an instant—only an instant.

It was enough.

More gunfire, muzzle flashes. The Forest God tumbled across the floor. Parkes advanced on him, shouting, his shoes slipping in the blood. Percival was growling, clamping my dad’s right hand in his jaws. The rifle spun out on the floor, the barrel skidding up against my sneakers. It was hot, and it singed the rubber of my shoe.

“Put it down!” Parkes yelled. The man who had once been my father had gotten his hunting knife loose from his belt and was slashing at Percival. He’d pulled himself up into a half crouch, dripping on the floor, snarling like a cornered animal.

“Put it down now!”

I knew Parkes was going to kill my dad.

Trembling, I reached down for the gun at my feet.

 

About the Author:

Nicola Solvinic has a master’s degree in criminology and has worked in and around criminal justice for more than a decade. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and cats, where she is surrounded by a secret garden full of beehives.










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The Devil I Love by Kay Freeman- Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza



DIY Fabric Ornament



Materials:

Scrap ribbon or fabric

Twine

Twig
  
Instructions:

Cut-up fabric or ribbon

Tie to twig in a simple knot

Repeat until twig is full

Cut ends

Attach twine for hanging


The Devil I Love
The Devil Chronicles
Book Two 
Kay Freeman

Genre:  Contemporary Gothic Romance
Publisher: Kay Freeman
Date of Publication:  02/10/2024
ISBN: 979-8-9853618-4-1 
ASIN:  B0CQ4KH1K9
Number of pages:  247
Word Count: 68,180
Cover Artist: Consuela Parra

Tagline:  She was supposed to be my wife, not my rival’s slave.

Book Description: 

I promised to go legit. The truth—I can’t. It’s who I am. 

When I break the news, River returns my ring and relocates like I knew she would. I don’t tell her the rest. My only hope, he sees the engagement is off and decides our deal is too and leaves her alone. 

If he doesn’t and takes her, she’ll become his and I’ll never escape the hell I’ve created.

Amazon     BN     Apple     Kobo     Smashwords


Excerpt

“We need to postpone the marriage.” My words echo through the cavernous space, sounding harsher than I intended. The yellow flames from the candles reflect in River’s eyes and a tear slides down her cheek. It’s like when you’re passing a car wreck; I don’t want to look, but I can’t stop myself. My bedroom is the quietest room in The Palace, which is the reason I brought River here. Everywhere else in the house is frenzied and boisterous with my employees getting ready for work. They live here with me and that’s the way it’s always been, and it seems it’s going to remain that way.

River’s shoulders slump. “I can’t believe you’re doing this, Cruz.” She collapses onto my throne, carved from ebony. I purchased the piece at auction. It was a steal. In the past you had to come from royalty to sit on one or kill someone who did. Most people today don’t feel comfortable sitting on one unless it’s in jest. You need a large ego to do it, which suits me fine. No one sits on it but me. River realizes she’s made a mistake and gets up quickly. Her face crumples. “Why must we?”

“I thought I could, but I can’t. I’ve lived in The Palace since I was twelve and—”

River staggers toward me. “You promised. You said we’d be a family. You’re going back on your word.” Her forehead wrinkles.

“I can’t give up a business I’m good at it. I’ve done it a long time and—”

“You have Monsters now. It’s a nightclub, and it’s legal, not against the law like…” But she holds the rest of her words, while holding her hands at the same time. She doesn’t call it a whorehouse, a brothel, or any of the other nasty names people use to describe what I do.

“Be realistic, River. Monsters doesn’t come close to earning enough money. It’s just another Chicago nightclub. I make ten times the amount in receivables in a single day with The Palace. I’m sorry, River, but I can’t give it up, or any of the others…yet. I’ve got too much overhead.”

“But maybe someone else can run it and—”

“I can’t; no one else can manage the women.”

“When will you be ready to marry and give up the brothel?” River twists her engagement ring. The smell of burning sage is the only thing keeping me strong. I want to take back my words before I say them. Do anything to stop what’s coming. But it has to be done. I need to make her go. I’d said several chants to build my strength earlier, but it won’t protect us from what will happen when I say these next three words.


About the Author:

Kay Freeman spent the early part of her career as a professional artist. She’s shown her work throughout the United States under her professional name, Kay A. Klotzbach. She was awarded two Geraldine Dodge fellowships for her paintings from the state of New Jersey. Kay was a full-time art professor in South Jersey for over twenty-three years and was granted a Princeton mid-career fellowship for her teaching and her community-based learning projects from Princeton University.

Kay decided to pursue her passion for writing after her manuscript, Truth Moon, was selected by Romance Writers of America’s RAMP program in 2021, which led to the publication of her debut novel, Truth Moon, by The Wild Rose Press. Kay has gone on to self-publish four other novels. She also writes a publication for romance authors, What Do Romance Authors Think About, a free newsletter, on substack.

Freeman is passionate about contemporary gothic and suspense romance. Kay loves to balance dark characters with more spiritual ones when writing her novels, providing ways for heroes and heroines to transform themselves into better people. Besides her passion for art, reading, and writing, she loves blues music, tequila, her husband Barry. This list is not intended to be in any particular order. Kay lives in Wilmington, DE, in a mid-century, modern kit home designed by Donald Scholz that she and her husband are still in the process of restoring.










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The Color of Sound by James Garcia Jr



The Color of Sound
James Garcia Jr

Genre: Horror
Publisher: James Garcia Jr
Date of Publication: September 6, 2024
ISBN: 9798338051665
ASIN: BODGDQCHJ7
Number of pages: 337
Word Count: 86,860
Cover Artist: Maria Zannini

Tagline: This week, they all want her dead.

Book Description: 

The voice that Jewel Foster hears in her head is not her own. It tells her terrible things and has since she can remember. Often it demands she kill herself. It’s a miracle she’s made it to sixteen. One extraordinary night changes everything.

There are scales over the eyes of mortals to prevent them from seeing the immortal. Jewel loses them and can now see the angels and demons that surround and interfere. Neither side is pleased that she can see them.

She will meet her guardian angel who will explain everything to her. But what can a mere mortal hope to do with such a gift?

Now, both sides in a spiritual war press against her; a war that has raged since the Devil was cast out of Heaven.

Last week, one wanted her dead. This week, they all do.

Amazon     Kobo

Excerpt:

Jewel is humming an 80’s hair metal song to herself as she crosses the last street of the day and steps onto the sidewalk on her block. It’s a song that never gets old; however, where she has heard it recently enough to cause it to ear worm into her consciousness, she does not know. It has been a pleasant walk home. She notices no demons on her way, and if present, none challenge her.

She notices her stalker walking toward her and makes no effort to escape.

Whatever, she thinks. He’s not ruining my day.

When he reaches her, he spins and then walks beside her.

“You sound pretty full of yourself right now,” he says evenly. She detects a hint of displeasure in his voice. “I would not have pegged you for a Whitesnake fan.”

She merely shrugs.

“What’s the problem?” she asks. “It’s been a good day. Don’t try to ruin it.”

“Yes, I will be sad to do so. It has been a long time since you have been this giddy.”

“Giddy?” she repeats. “I have never been giddy.”

He makes a sound that she doesn’t immediately discern. It is something between a laugh and a grunt. “I will grant you that it is rare, but it has happened.”
Jewel lets it go.

They are halfway down the block now and neither speak for quite a while.

“You must realize that this is not a game,” he says, finally. It isn’t a question.
Jewel sighs. “I should have snuck down the alley,” she says.

“You already tried that tactic.”

“So, what do you want from me?”

“You have nothing that I need,” he replies.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do?”

“For one, you can stop poking them.”

“Poking who?”

“You know who, Julie,” he answers. “Leave them be.”

Jewel stops walking. They are near the foot of her driveway now. She turns and faces him. “How can I do that?” she asks. “They’re evil. They put thoughts in your head that aren’t yours. They lie, cheat and steal. Mine told me the vilest things. All this time I thought it was me…”

“I know that.”

She stops. “See! That just pisses me off! They put horrible things into your head, and you know all about it. Who are you?”

“You already know…”

“Don’t tell me that!” she snaps. “Just don’t! I want you to spell it out for me.”

He stands and simply looks at her.

“Sonofabitch!” she shouts. “So, you’re a guardian angel or something?”

He nods.

“Can’t you even say it?” she asks and throws up her hands

“Yes, I can. I am your guardian angel. Does that help?”

“No, it doesn’t help,” she replies, still smoldering. “That only begs further questions.”

“Fine,” he says. “Ask away.”

She glances about the neighborhood as she contemplates what to ask.

“So, no one can see you?” she asks finally. It is the first thought that occurs to her in the heat of the moment. “Anyone looking this way right now sees a crazy girl alone, throwing a fit on the sidewalk?”

“Only when I allow it. When they do, they see only a man.”

“Then do it now,” she says. “I’m tired of feeling crazy. I’ve lived a lifetime of that.”

“As you wish.”

“Do you have a name? Of course you do. What is it?”

“I am afraid I cannot tell you that.”

Jewel appears startled, as if slapped. “Excuse me?”

“I have a name, yes. But it is nothing you could pronounce.”

“Try me,” she says, but he quickly holds up his hands as if to calm her.

“Please do not misunderstand. When we are named… All of us, humans, angelic beings, otherwise, it is by others who are masters or parents. There is ownership implied. Mine has given me a name because he is my master.”

“God, huh?” Jewel says. “So, you’re a religious nut.”

“The very first kind,” he answers evenly.

She shakes her head. “So, what do I call you?”

“I have hope that whenever you call me it will be friend.”

“Isn’t that a song?”

“Yes, Kenny Loggins and Melissa Manchester wrote it.”

“It’s a very old song.”

“I promise you I am far older.”

“How come you know so much about music?”

“I spend quite a lot of time waiting. I amuse myself with music.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

“Would you believe the Mormon Tabernacle Choir?”

She frowns.

“They are quite good, you know.”

“Try again?”

“The Gregorian Monks.”

“Who? Seriously? Chanting? I don’t believe you.”

“I appreciate much, but once you have heard music in heaven there is really nothing else. Perhaps Zeppelin.”

“Get out of here,” she says, exasperated, and heads for her house.

He makes no move to follow.

When she reaches the ninety-degree angle at the walkway that leads to her door, she stops and looks back. “Are you seriously just going to stay out here forever?”

His face grows serious. “That is up to you.”

“How so?”

“You have seen demons with your own eyes, and now you know you have a guardian angel, and have had one since birth.”

“Do I know that?” she asks. “Sure, I have you to vouch for that, but all I have is what you’ve told me. And you really haven’t told me much.”

“In any event,” he continues. “What does that tell you?”

“About what, mysterious stranger?” she asks. “What does it tell me? It doesn’t tell me anything.”

“When you are ready, I will be here.”

“Ready for what?”

“I will be here,” he repeats. “But, please, leave them be.”

“Why should I?” she asks and holds out her hands.

He pauses, as if measuring his words. “Because they will soon poke back.”


About the Author:   

James Garcia Jr was born in Hanford, California. He moved up the road to Kingsburg with his family as a child. After graduating KHS, he attended Reedley College where he met his wife. The family still makes its home in Kingsburg which is typically the setting of his fiction.

He was the 1994 winner of the Writers International Network/Writers Inter-Age Network writing contest in the horror category. He is the author of the edgy Dance on Fire vampire series, and the stand-alone novels, Seeing Ghosts and Photographs.

During the day, he is the safety manager at Sun Maid Growers of California.