The Blood Race Trilogy Books 1 & 2 by K.A. Emmons

The Blood Race
The Blood Race Trilogy
Book One
K.A. Emmons

Genre: Young Adult/SciFi/

Paranormal /Urban Fantasy / Time Travel

Publisher: K.A. Emmons

Date of Publication: July 27, 2017
ISBN: 978-1-7321935-3-6
Number of pages: 321
Word Count: 104,000
Cover Artist:  Stuart Bache
Book Description:
All Ion Jacobs ever wanted was to be normal. But when you’re capable of killing with your very thoughts, it’s hard to blend in with the crowd.
Running from his past and living in fear of being discovered, Ion knows he will never be an average college student. But when Hawk, the beautiful, mysterious girl next door unearths his darkest secret, Ion’s life is flipped upside-down. He’s shocked to discover a whole world of people just like him — a world in another dimension, where things like levitation, shape-shifting, and immortality are not only possible… they’re normal.
Forced to keep more secrets than ever before, Ion struggles to control his powers in the real world while commuting between realms — until his arch enemy starts a fight he can’t escape. Now he has sealed the fate of the Dimension, severing their connection to the real world, and locking himself inside forever. But a deadly threat hidden in plain sight may cost Ion more than just his freedom — it may cost him his life.
The Blood Race is the first book in K.A. Emmons’ riveting new sci-fi/fantasy thriller series. If you like epic urban fantasy, fresh takes on super powers, deep allegories, raw emotions and intricate plots that surprise you at every turn, you’ll love the first novel in Emmons’ page-turning series.

Book One:
I had no idea
where I was or who I was really speaking to, in fact. Up until the car
incident, Sensei had simply been “the crazy old guy next door.” Now he was
beginning to feel like my only connection to sanity. I had no reason to trust
him, but something in me gravitated towards it.
“Sensei, how did
you know about me?” I asked. “Hawk said that you’ve been watching me—how did
you find me? How did you know about my powers?”
His deep-set
eyes studied my face. “You still have not answered the question.”
I held his gaze
for a moment, then let go of a sigh. “I don’t know the answer to your question.
I don’t even know who I am.”
“Would you like
to know who you are?” I nodded slightly.
“Then that is
the answer to the question,” he said. “You wish to learn who you really are.
Where you have come from. And it is for that reason that you have been brought
“But why?” I
“Because you
were created to protect that which is to come, Ion.”
I thought about
it for a moment before shaking my head. “I don’t get it.” “Every generation to
walk the earth has, hidden within its repetition and
pattern, a few
who will resist. A few who will realize that they are inherently different from
others,” Sensei replied. “Most will follow the pattern cut through the density
of the forest, because they are afraid to stray from that which is familiar.
But a few will stray—the anomalies. Those who recognize their own powers and
allow their abilities to guide them.”
There was that
word again. The word that had provoked me to the point of driving a knife
through Hawk’s hand only hours before. Coming from him, though, it didn’t have
the same effect.
“I created this
dimension to protect you. Because you are the only ones who have awakened to
protect the future from what it has become.”
“How do you know
what the future is going to be like?” I asked. “You talk about it like it
already exists.”
“Because,” he
said, “I have seen it.” “You’ve seen the future?”
Sensei nodded.
“So this whole…”
I looked for the right word. “Dimension. You created it?”
“I am it.”
I stared at him.
“Wait, what?”
“When you healed
Hawk, when you altered reality with your very thoughts, you projected that
which is within you into that which is without. When you practice that for
eternity, this,” he gestured towards our surroundings, “is the result.”
“You’ve found
every one of us… every one of the anomalies?” “From past, present, and future.”
My head was
starting to hurt.
“You were the
one who fixed my face, weren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Sensei nodded. “I
could imagine how much it hurt.”
“Yeah, well. You
imagined correctly.” I laughed mirthlessly. “God, this is
“It is your
choice to make, Ion. Hawk will teach you how to utilize the portals, and you
may come and go.” He folded his hands. “Or you may return to your world
permanently—but you must tell no one what we have discussed or what you have
seen here.”

“I want to
stay,” I said, without hesitation, surprising myself.

Worlds Beneath

The Blood Race Trilogy
Book Two
K.A. Emmons
Genre: Young Adult/ SciFi / Paranormal /
Urban Fantasy /Time Travel
Publisher: K.A. Emmons
Date of Publication: July 1, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-7321935-1-2
Number of pages: 389
Word Count: 106,000
Cover Artist: Abbie Emmons
Book Description:
I used to think that seeing was believing, but now, as I struggle to stay alive below the ravine, I begin to realize that – good or bad – I will see whatever I believe.
“Who are you, Icarus, that the earth opens its mouth to receive your blood?” Sensei’s words were my last thoughts before I fell into the bottomless ravine, plunging toward my own death, and bringing about Hawk’s at the same time. Or so I thought.
I woke up underwater. I awoke in a strange and unfamiliar world, filled with maze-like forest, shadows, and nightmares seemingly as vivid and dangerous as reality. I had no idea who I was, or how I got there – I couldn’t remember anything, until I remembered her: Hawk. The other half of my soul.

I knew that in order for her to stay alive, I had to survive and find a way out. But that’s easier said than done when you’re trapped in a realm as deadly as your every thought – and dominated by a hierarchy of ravenous wolf packs.
Alerted by a dream, I realize that Hawk has left the Dimension to come find me. For an instant, I rediscover hope. But that hope quickly burns to ash when I realize that we may not be the only ones down here. Someone else with a thirst for her blood may have survived the fall too. And I may have just lured her right into the jaws of a predator even fiercer than the wolves.

Book 2:

I would be lying
if I said I wasn’t scared. The very things that were potential beacons of hope
were also bright red warning flags. There was no way for me to know what I was
walking into.
I waited until
nightfall. Until the sky was dark and the stars were like sparkling pinpricks
in satin overhead. I watched him light a fresh fire after failing to rekindle
the last, using two rocks. It reminded me of my own newly acquired ability to
channel fire. When I thought about it, I could practically feel the heat
tingling in the tips of my wings.
He sat down,
cross-legged, by the fire, and the black wolves dispersed into the woods,
seeming on edge as the starlight flickered down through the trees. I heard
distant howls on occasion.
The young man’s
features were illuminated by the crackling fire. He seemed to have all but
forgotten I was there. He held a small journal in his hand and seemed to be
writing or making a sketch with charcoal.
Finally, he rose
again and went inside the shelter, and the opportunity for me to make my
entrance presented itself.
I left the
branch and flew several yards into the forest. I landed softly on the ground
below and transformed back into my human form. I didn’t want him to know I
could shift; that had to remain a secret.
I straightened
my clothes and took a shaky breath.
I slowed to a
halt at the very edge of the clearing, waiting to see if and when he would
emerge from the shelter. When he didn’t, I finally stepped forward into the
I walked farther
in towards the flickering shades of yellow and orange. The snap of a twig under
my foot disrupted the chorus of crickets and the distant, occasional howls. It
was enough to cause an audible stir from within the shelter. A moment later the
curtain parted. The dark eyes met mine from across the flames. He stared at me
like someone who hadn’t seen another living soul in a hundred years.
He stepped out
completely. The connection between our eyes didn’t falter.
“Who are you?”
he asked, in a curious voice edged with an accent. “Where did you come from?”
I pulled in a
deep breath, debating what kind of cover story to give.
“The wolves,” I
replied slowly. “I followed one of the black wolves, and it led me here.”
I swallowed,
watching his expression closely. “Where exactly is this place?” I asked.
He stared at me
for a moment longer, seeming puzzled by the question, and then he looked around
us. “Must everything have a name?” He seemed to be musing more than asking. “It
is reality. I know nothing beyond it.”
“Nothing?” I
questioned. “You’ve always lived here?” He nodded. “It certainly feels like
“Are you alone
here?” He nodded again. “How is that possible?”
He shrugged,
turning his attention back to me. “Could I not ask the same of you?”
He could indeed.
I struggled to
come up with something to say.
“I awoke in a
place like this, but covered in snow.” I thought back to the tunnel in the
embankment. “And then the wolf led me here. The wolves you talk to.”
He studied me a
moment longer and then smiled. “I talk to them because they are mine.”
He knelt beside
the fire, picking up the journal and closing it. “It is hard for you to
understand, but if you stay, you will learn that no one knows where exactly
this place is.”
He paused to
pick up a stick with which he began prodding the fire. “And no one knows how to
leave,” he said, seeming to muse once more to himself. “Or should I say,

I watched him
for a moment. “I don’t want to stay.” “You wish to find your way home, then?”

About the Author:
When she’s not hermiting away in her colorfully-painted home office writing her next science fiction, passionate story-teller Kate Emmons is probably working on the nonprofit organization she founded, Blue Freedom. An organization designed to teach students and young adults about whales and dolphins and the importance of keeping them in the wild.
Katie’s other passions include traveling, hiking, and surfing, which she also loves to blog about.
She lives in the often-snowy hills of rugged Vermont with her husband and dog named Rocket.

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The Meadows by London Clarke Haunted Halloween Spooktacular

Recipe for Chocolate Swamp Pie
2 cups flour
¾ cup Crisco
dash of salt
1 egg and 4-5 tablespoons of ice
1 teaspoon of vinegar
Mix salt and shortening in with flour.
Mix together with spoon. Beat up egg with fork and add to mixture. Scoop
tablespoons of water into the mixture. Add tsp of vinegar. Mixture will be
stiff. Chill for 2-3 hours. Cover with saran wrap until ready to mash into a
pie pan.
1 stick of butter
1 cup of sugar
2 eggs beaten
2 tablespoons cream
1 teaspoon vanilla
1and1/2 squares of baking
Melt butter and chocolate. Beat
eggs, add sugar, beat well. Add cream and vanilla.
Mix well. Add melted mixture and
mix all ingredients together. Pour into unbaked crust.
Bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 35

The Meadows
Legacy of Darkness
Book One
London Clarke

Genre: Gothic suspense; supernatural thriller

Publisher: Carfax Abbey Publishing
Date of Publication: October 2018
ISBN: 9781386765233

Cover Artist: Stephen Lee Designs
Tagline: Bed, breakfast, and blood.
Book Description:
A decades-old murder. A strange, blood-thirsty cult. And a house full of spirits.
It was supposed to be a new beginning, a fresh start in the Shenandoah Valley, where Scarlett’s memories weren’t riddled with drug addiction and rehab. But after purchasing an abandoned house with a checkered past in the hopes of transforming it into a luxury bed and breakfast, strange things start to happen. Disturbing voices and noises interrupt her new life. Strangers appear to her, bearing cryptic warnings. A tunnel is discovered underneath the house—one historically used for a local cult’s rituals. After several of Scarlett’s guests are hospitalized after visiting the underground, she finds herself targeted by violent spirits.
Driven to the edge of despair, Scarlett vows to fight back—but she has no idea what she’s really battling. And her nightmare is just beginning…
The Meadows is a gripping supernatural thriller in which the monsters may be vampires, demons, or flesh and blood. It is a nightmare that will make you believe it could easily happen to you.
About the Author:

Obsessed with vampires and haunted houses from a young age, London grew up reading gothic tales featuring romantic and tragic heroes. Wuthering Heights and Dracula are her favorite novels, and although now happily married, she readily confesses that she is a recovering runaway, who once moved to England in search of a man who was the perfect amalgamation of Dracula, Hamlet, Heathcliff, and Mr. Rochester. London holds a B.A. in Music and M.F.A in Creative Writing. She’s had an eclectic array of jobs including receptionist, legal secretary, literary assistant, high school English teacher, and freelance editor.
London lives in a Washington, DC suburb with her husband and three greyhounds. She’s happiest when she’s writing novels, reading books, or binge watching her favorite programs like The Vampire Diaries or Being Human.

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Crimson Vale: A Modern Gothic Love Story by Jennifer Harlow

Crimson Vale: A Modern Gothic Love Story
Jennifer Harlow

Genre: Horror, Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Devil on the Left Books
Date of Publication: September 11, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-7326854-0-6 
ISBN: 978-1-7326854-1-3
Number of pages: 300
Word Count: 99,000
Cover Artist: Jennifer Dowis
Tagline: Lust…Murder…Madness. Welcome to Crimson Vale.
Book Description:
Welcome to Crimson Vale.
It’s a dream come true. A vast inheritance. A beautiful mansion in the heart of the small town South. A seductive, mysterious, literal man of her dreams offering true, pure love. Ravaged in both body and mind, Jane Harrow leaps into that living dream with abandon.
Despite the voices.
Despite the visions.
Despite the warnings from both the living and the dead.
Because what Jane doesn’t know is nothing and no one are what they seem.
Because demons from the past are patient. Because dreams can quickly turn into living nightmares, especially in…Crimson Vale
Amazon     BN       Kobo
This must be
where it happened. My uncle lay in this room for close to forty years with my
grandmother by his side, apparently knitting as the tubes and respirator kept
him…I wouldn’t call that alive. Undead. 
What on earth was she thinking? Waiting one year sure, but thirty-plus?
Giving up her own life to watch over a comatose man? Insanity. It really must
run in the blood. I only hope—
Creaking in the
hallway startles me out of my dark thoughts. Darn it, I guess he didn’t leave.
I’m not sure how much longer I can handle social niceties. I’m exhausted from
the drive, not to mention out of practice with people, and would derive great
satisfaction from smacking that letch with my purse should he glimpse down my
shirt again. I just want to take a shower, get into my pajamas, and sleep for a
week. Have to get him out of here first. I walk into the hallway.
My lungs, my
heart, even my ability to blink stops the moment I set eyes on him. If it were
storming outside I would swear I’d just been hit by a bolt of lightning. Time
stands as still as we do, just staring at one another with the same awestruck
expression. The stranger my age is a few inches over six foot with a lean body
encased in an expensive gray suit with matching tie and vest. He could grace
the pages of a magazine with that suit, wavy dirty blonde hair with a lock
brushing his forehead and coiffed to appear slightly disheveled, big blue eyes,
feminine lips, straight nose, and strong jaw ending at a pointed chin. He’s
around my age, but as our eyes meet and another wave of whatever this is jolts
through me, he seems a century older and I’ve known him every moment, every
millisecond of that time. I’m scared, exhilarated, unnerved all at once. But
deep down there’s a …recognition peeking through the strum and drang.
I never believed
in love at first sight, and I don’t know if that’s what this is, but every atom
of mine senses, every atom of his calling to me, screaming for me to sprint
over to this stranger, tear off our clothes, and have him rut me like a beast
right on the hardwood floor. To feel him stretching me, thrusting inside me. My
most sacred place pulsates and grows wet just from the mere thought. What the
heck is happening to me? This stranger must be suffering the same torment
because those blue eyes grow ravenous like an anorexic faced with prime rib. No
one’s ever gazed at me like this, with pure unadulterated, hot, wild, salivating
lust. The same way I’m gazing at him. My resolve to remain on my side of the
hall cracks with each passing moment. His fails. He lets out a soft grunt and
takes a stride toward me. Thank God.
“Mrs. Harrow?”
Those two words
break whatever enchantment engulfed me. I somehow pry my eyes away from the
stranger toward the creaky stairs. Suddenly I’m freezing and trembling as if in
shock. At least I can breathe again, though only in short bursts. D.J. takes
the final step up into the hallway. “Oh, good, you found her,” he says to the
“Yes,” the man
says, quiet voice cracking a tad, “I did.”
“Mrs. Harrow,
may I present my son, Bram. He’s the one who tracked you down.” D.J. glances
from his son to me, eyes narrowing in confusion. “What the hell is the matter
with you two? Y’all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“We’re fine,
sir,” Bram says with only a faint trace of a Southern accent. “Just got a
chill. Old house and all.”
“Oh. Well, you
can get someone to fix that, I guess. Bram can give you the handyman’s name and
number. He’s been the one taking care of things. Hey,” he says to his son,
“I’ve been meaning to ask. What happened to all those weird looking creatures
and symbols that used to be on all the walls and tables? The gargoyles and
such? There were still a ton of them even after the renovation.”
“I, uh, had them
removed.” Bram turns to me. “I hope you don’t think I overstepped my bounds. I
had them remove the medical equipment too and clean up. I just…wanted to cheer
the place up for your arrival.”
“Um, thank you.
For thinking of me.”
grandmother would have wanted me to, um, make things as comfortable for you as
“You’re very
kind,” I say, blushing. I’m sure as red as a fire engine. I look over at D.J.
“Both of you.”
“So, have you
decided what you’re going to do with the place?” D.J. asks me.
“I haven’t
really thought that far ahead.”
“But you’re
planning on staying, right?” Bram asks with urgency. “At least for a while?”
I meet his eyes
again, instantly overpowered by the intense fear in them. I can stand it for
only a millisecond. “Um, I-I guess.”
“Well, you are
welcome to stay here while the will’s in probate. Or the Cypress Hotel is
lovely. There’s also the Crimson Vale Motel, but it’s a tad low rent.”
“Um…” Do I
really want to spend the night alone in this house? Two people died here, and
those are just the ones I know of. I don’t believe in ghosts—your soul either
enters heaven or hell—but this house feels as if it’s under an enchantment.
Frozen in time by an evil witch. But it’s mine. I came all this way, and if I
don’t stay in this house tonight, I never will. “No, I’ll be staying here. The
letter said everything was still turned on?”
“It is,” Bram
says. “I-we kept the utilities up to date for when you finally arrived.”
“Thank you. Both.”
We stand in
silence for a few awkward moments. I sense Bram staring at me, waiting for
something, but I can’t return his gaze. My eyes remain glued to the floor.
“Well,” D.J. says, “we’ll get out of your hair. You’re probably tired from your
trip. Bram?” The son follows the father down the hall and stairs with me three
steps behind to show them out. Bram glances back, each time his mouth opens to
say something, but he thinks better of it each time. “You have my card if you
have any questions,” D.J. continues. “Don’t hesitate to call, even if it’s just
for the name of a good restaurant.”
“Thank you.”
The men step out
onto the porch, but I wait at the threshold. “Remember. Anything,” D.J. adds as
he ambles to his BMW.
All I want is
for you to leave now. “I will. Thank you.”
His son moves
toward his own BMW SUV, but halfway there Bram suddenly stops, doesn’t move for
a moment, then spins around to face me. For some reason my stomach clenches
from nerves as he does. I grip the door handle in case he’s about to finish
what he started in the hall, whatever that was. “I, um, I…” he says. His mouth
clamps shut again to find the right words. If possible, he’s as unnerved as I
am. He shakes his head to clear it and smiles. “Welcome home, Jane.”
Those words send
a cascade of warmth through my body like warn rain just washed over me. I
haven’t a clue what to say back. All I can manage is a weak smile before
retreating inside like a mouse into a hole. The moment the door shuts, I turn
my back to it and rest against the wood with a sigh. What is the matter with
me? Have I replaced voices and seeing invisible people with nymphomania? I
remain pressed against the door until I hear both men drive away, the tension
waning as the sounds fade, leaving nothing but glorious silence. The house is
still. My house. Mine.

About the Author:

Jennifer Harlow spent her restless childhood fighting with her three brothers and scaring the heck out of herself with horror movies and books. She grew up to earn a degree at the University of Virginia which she put to use as a radio DJ, crisis hotline volunteer, bookseller, lab assistant, wedding coordinator, and government investigator. Currently she calls Atlanta home but that restless itch is ever present. In her free time she continues to scare the beejepers out of herself watching scary movies and opening her credit card bills. She is the author of the Amazon best-selling F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad, Midnight Magic Mystery series, The Galilee Falls Trilogy, and won the Independent Publisher’s Award for Best Mystery Novel.
For the soundtrack to her books and other goodies visit her at
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