Stalking the Moon by Angel Leigh McCoy


Stalking the Moon
Wyrdwood Welcome
Book One
Angel Leigh McCoy

Genre: Supernatural Suspense
Publisher: Wily Writers

Date of Publication: April 24, 2020

ISBN: 978-1950427055

ASIN: B0832JJRPG
Number of pages: 290
Word Count: 88,868
Cover Artist:  DIStudios.pl

Tagline:  A New Mythology for the 21st Century

Book Description:

Normal life is complicated enough. Add magick to the mix, and suddenly all hell breaks loose!

Viviane doesn’t have time for voices in her head or monsters in her bed! Her family relies on her. She’s in charge of a mentally ill mother, a sneaky grandfather, and a sexy (but delusional) fiancé. And yet, the whispers in her mind are barging into Reality—with claws and teeth and murderous intent.

When her fiancé goes missing, she’ll do anything to find him. If that means magical, mythical creatures hunt her down, then so be it. This could be the end of her life as she’s known it, but well… Consequences be damned.



Excerpt from STALKING THE MOON by Angel Leigh McCoy

The staff entrance was on the women’s wing, near the employee parking lot. Out of habit, I entered there. Nurses, orderlies, and doctors all greeted me as I made my way to Richard’s office.
Richard was seated at his desk. “Hey, Vivi. Come on in.” He rebuttoned the collar of his white, custom-fitted dress shirt.
“Howdy.” I shut the door behind me and went to the leather couch. It was overstuffed with a high back and deep seat. I felt small on it, but that was part of Richard’s evil plot. Plus, it would have been impossible to fall off it while under hypnosis. It cradled me.
“What part of my psyche are we going to poke today?”
Richard folded his arms on the desk, a pen flapping in one hand as he looked me over. “I want to revisit your early days,” he said. “I’ve been going through the transcripts of our sessions, compiling them, and there are a couple things I’d like to revisit.”
“Let’s get to it then.”
The first time I met Richard, back in the early days, he was finishing his last year as a graduate student in the Psychology Department at the University of Illinois. He was in Peoria doing an internship at the counseling center, and Abram had dragged me there to get my head fixed—at the junior high principal’s request.
Back then, Richard had a long ponytail and was every teenage girl’s dream of the older college boy. I was only thirteen, and he was taller than me, though that changed when I had my growth spurt a few years later.
Thirteen-year-old Me had gone into his office with a chip on my shoulder, hating Abram, hating my illness, and hating Dr. Richard Reuter before I’d even met him.
He’d appeared in the waiting room and asked, “Viviane? Right? Would you come with me?”
“I don’t got a choice.”
Abram hissed, “Hey,” at me, and said “Be nice.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I walked into the office and went straight to a chair, flopped there, and crossed my arms on my chest. The first thing I noticed that interested me was the plate of cookies on the coffee table. They were chocolate chip and appeared homemade. I pretended not to see them. I didn’t want him to think I was going to stay all that long, and besides, my stomach didn’t feel too good.
Richard sat in the chair opposite me and watched me for a full minute. Finally, he asked, “How old are you?”
“Fifteen.” It was a bold-faced lie.
“I know you’re lying.”
I asked, “How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“Are you gay?” I said with vehemence, calculating his possible reactions.
He didn’t even flinch. “Viviane, do you know why your grandfather brought you here?”
“Because he’s a sociopath afraid of being noticed. I draw attention to him, and he wants me to stop.”
He smiled at that, and for the first time, but not the last, I thought how handsome he was.
In that first session, he didn’t hypnotize me, though later, it became a regular part of our therapy sessions. Richard felt it was the best way to track down the source of my hallucinations. He would take me back to the time before my first hallucination, and we’d go over the events of a day or two in each session, gradually working forward through my memories. It was my own personal reality-TV show.
One time, I had what can only be described as a past-life memory, or maybe a dream. Both Richard and I waved it off as an aberration, though I never forgot it. The dream had been wonderful, about a place with emerald hills, crystal streams, and a palace that felt like home. Whenever I thought about it, I could still imagine the smell of honeysuckle on the breeze.
Twenty years later, I was thirty-three, and our regressions were catching up to the conscious flow of time. In the hypnosis sessions, he recorded my soul in bits and pieces, saved forever as audio recordings, transcribed to digital documents, and printed out on paper. He kept the files in his cabinets.
I’d often wondered what would happen when we finally caught up to the present moment. Maybe I’d die. Maybe he’d die. Maybe the entire world would end as the Ouroboros swallowed its own tail.
“All right.” Richard got up from his desk. “I’m ready, if you are.” He sat in the chair opposite me and leaned forward to turn on the metronome.
I said, “Take me to a happy day.”
“You know the drill. Close your eyes, relax, and remember.”
Not every tick and tock of the metronome sounded the same. The differences were subtle, but they were there if I listened for them. It was a song without rhyme or reason.
It started small and distant: tick.
The cuckoo clock on the wall at Abram’s house had to be wound. I loved pulling the chains that raised the heavy, metal pinecones. Tock. It had been my job, every morning, when I was a kid. My body rocked to the beat: tick tock. Time ebbed, and space flowed. My spine relaxed. Tick. Gravity released me. Tock. The metronome sang its song in my belly. Tick tock. I was energy, and I radiated.
“We’re going to continue our journey back in time,” Richard said. The waves of his voice rippled through me, and the present faded into the background.
I followed the metronome down into a trance. We had a signal. I raised a finger to indicate that I was ready to begin.
“Go back,” Richard suggested, “to the moment when you first met Simon, when you were thirteen.”
The scene formed around me, inside me, throughout me.
“Describe it to me.”
I’m home, and I’m taking a shower. There’s blood running down my leg. It’s swirling in the water and spinning down the drain. I know what it is. Lettie’s had hers since last year, and she took me to buy the stuff I’d need. I’m really glad I didn’t have to do that with my grandpa.
Lettie and me, we read the little instruction book that came in the box and made fun of the pictures. She warned me how it would be, the cramps and mess, but it’s worse when it’s actually happening. It’s scary and weird. I keep thinking that my blood is supposed to stay in my body.
So, I’m standing there in the shower, watching my blood drain away, and I’m trying not to cry, wondering if I’m going to die, and that’s when I hear a man. He sounds like James Bond. “You’re probably not going to die.”
I scream and cover my private parts with my hands, but no one’s there.
The voice says, “What I mean is, you are going to be just fine.” But nobody’s there. I’m freaking out. I jump out of the shower and run through the house. I’m screaming.
The voice is following me. “Oh, lass, it’s okay.”
I streak into the kitchen, and my grandpa is there, trying to calm me down.
I’m crying, naked and wet, shaking all over, blood staining my leg, and Grandpa thinks I’m upset because of my period, but that isn’t it. It’s the man talking to me right next to my ear, when there’s nobody there.
He says his name is Simon.
The metronome sang. Tick. Tock.

About the Author:


Angel Leigh McCoy wears author, game designer, and audiobook narrator hats—sometimes simultaneously. She is the creative force behind the Wyrdwood series of novels and the Dire Multiverse audio drama. She was a senior writer on the award-winning video games CONTROL and GUILD WARS 2. Her work on the White Wolf World of Darkness series included books for Mage, Vampire, Changeling, and several others. She was also the first female game designer on the DUNGEONS & DRAGONS team at Wizards of the Coast. These days, she works from home and is intent on building her own epic worlds, including Wyrdwood and the Dire Multiverse. Her cats approve.










 
Prizes:

1 Audible.com 3-month membership (or 3 credits if you’re already a member). Entitles you to partake of the Audible Originals titles offered free each month to members. (all-told, a $45 value) If you’ve ever wanted to try audiobooks, this is the time.

5 – Wyrdwood Welcome Swag Bags

Each swag bag includes:

-Free ebook copy of JUMPING THE MOON, Wyrdwood Welcome Book #2, due for release on May 15, 2020.
-A “Proud to be Wyrd” pin
-A Wyrdwood magnet
-Invitation to the private and exclusive Wyrdwood Facebook group
-Treats from the “Wyrdwood Candiporium”
-A surprise toy!








Cover Reveal: Hurricane Vignette by Avery Kilpatrick



Hurricane Vignette
Avery Kilpatrick

Genre: Poetry, Inspirational, Women Poets
Publisher: Avery Kilpatrick
Date of Publication: June 18, 2020
ASIN: B088KTYWPS
Number of pages: 64 pages
Word Count: 4,354

Cover Artist: Anna Claire Garrard

Book Description:

From debut poet and author Avery Kilpatrick, Hurricane Vignette tells the story of a difficult time in her life—a time of struggle, depression, suicide, recovery, and triumph. This poetry collection is a personal diary of Kilpatrick’s most inner thoughts and her journey of healing.

These poems are filled with raw emotion and contain sensitive subjects such as suicide, depression, and anxiety. However, like most stories, there is a happy ending—a moment of clarity that evokes peace and victory over the chaos of life.




About the Author:

Avery Kilpatrick was born in Flowood, Mississippi, in April 1996. Raised in a small town in the Mississippi Delta, she has a fondness for nature and the cotton fields that create Southern snow pastures in the fall. After writing her first novel when she was thirteen, Avery decided to pursue her dream as an author at a young age.

An alumnus of Delta State University in Cleveland, Mississippi, Avery graduated with a Bachelor’s in English. She also worked on the student-run newspaper, The Delta Statement, during her four-year career at Delta State as copy-editor and Editor-in-Chief.

Avery currently lives in a ranch-style home in her hometown in Greenwood, Mississippi. The mother of three fur babies, Cinnamon the spoiled cat, Ginger the rambunctious old lady, and Remington a.k.a. Remi the service dog, Avery has enough fur from shedding animals to make a fourth pet. When Avery isn’t busy writing her next novel, she goes on walks with her mother and dogs, watches Outlander or Criminal Minds on Netflix, or can be found curled up on the couch with Cinnamon reading a good book.








a Rafflecopter giveaway

Huntress Rising by Lee Roland



Huntress Rising

Angel of Death

Book One
Lee Roland

Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: December 9, 2019
ISBN 978-1-5092-2887-4
ISBN 978-1-5092-2888-1
ASIN: B081DR5SBJ
Number of pages:  378
Word Count: 99, 281
Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor

Tagline: The Angel of Death is no angel, but a world in ruins needs her guns more than wings.

Book Description:

In a post-apocalypse world besieged by monsters, Colonel Xavier, a military man with a deadly temper, deliberately challenges Maat Ferris, a fierce, werewolf hunter. When Xavier meets Maat, he can’t decide whether to shoot her or kiss her. There is no uncertainty in her. She promptly stabs him. His hot then cold attitude makes her crazy, and his tendency to protect her is even worse.

Unfortunately, the combative pair must join forces on a treacherous journey, across the bleak, barren country. Pursued by a dictator president and the vampire who holds him in thrall, they carry precious cargo that will give democracy seeking rebels a chance to remain free.

Maat and Xavier, true to their aggressive, passionate natures, must also battle their way through a most unusual courtship. Can their love grow amidst the destruction and rebuilding of a society under siege? Or will they kill each other first?

Amazon      BN      Books a Million


Excerpt:

Chapter One
May 18, 2085 A.D
Avalon Agricultural Commune
Appalachian Mountains

Christopher worked his way down toward paradise. His tongue flicked in my navel and his fingers had already reached the gate. The lantern’s golden light played across our warm, flushed skin. I twisted my own fingers in his thick red hair, urging him on to the heart of gratification. He stopped, raised his head, and stared at me.
“What?” I didn’t expect him to answer. Christopher never spoke. One of the other members here at the AG Commune told me he could speak but wouldn’t because he was a Prime Oracle. His prophecies always came true—and he hated it.
To my dismay, Christopher rose from the bed, grabbed his robe, and drew it over his head. A frantic knock sounded at the door. The knock came again, this time accompanied by the voice of Julia, our leader Anolia’s young assistant.
“Maat? Maat, are you there?”
I glanced at Christopher, but his face remained impassive. The dark night terrified Julia. What was she doing at my door?
“Maat? Maat, please.”
Each word came with a higher and more desperate note. Christopher gave me one of his sweet smiles. Yes, I knew I had to answer.
“I’m coming, Julia.” I rose, grabbed my own robe, tossed it on, and went to the door. Julia jammed herself inside before it completely opened. She stood gasping, eyes wide, and pale hands clenched tight around her lantern handle. She shivered, even though summer had almost arrived, and it wasn’t cold outside.
“What is it, Julia?” I touched her arm. She jerked.
She closed her eyes and whispered a broken version of the serenity prayer. She didn’t seem any calmer when she finished. “Anolia wants you in the chapel dining room right now.” Julia blurted out the sentence like a single, multisyllable word.
“Why?” Anolia often sent Julia on errands, but she wasn’t cruel. What caused her to send the girl into the darkness she so feared? Julia shook her head, unable to continue. She glanced over her shoulder toward the door. “I have to go.”
I wouldn’t get anything else from her.
“Tell Anolia I’ll be there soon.”
Julia nodded. I opened the door and watched her lantern sway as she hurried up the path and over the hill. After I closed the door, I turned to Christopher.
“Something’s wrong. I better go see what she wants.”
Christopher seized my shoulders with hands made strong by his work at the forge. His fingers squeezed in a savage grip, and his striking face twisted in anguish.
“Take your guns, Maat. Take your guns.”
He spoke with a gravity that stunned me. He gave me a sweet kiss, and he too hurried out into the night. Seconds passed while I recovered from the shock of hearing him speak for the first time in over a year. Then I took his advice. I dragged my old suitcase from under the bed and threw it open.
The scent of gun oil and saddle soap filled the room. All my weapons lay there as they had for the past two years while I’d lived in peace here at the commune. Regularly cleaned, they patiently waited for the once familiar killing urge to strike their mistress again. I pulled on well-worn, black denim pants and a knit shirt, both softened with age. The supple boots that allowed me to tread softly across most terrain still fit comfortably.
I’m tall, lean, and have a moderately androgynous face. I’m not beautiful. Beauty is a blessing for women who need it to survive in this dangerous post-war, post disease world. I’ve never envied them, those lovely things with their smiles and sparkling eyes. All I needed was a gun, a blade, and a little luck. I may even run out of luck, but I kept my blade sharp, and my well-oiled guns didn’t age. The bullets retained their devastating punch.
I pinned my mass of unruly and not so lovely brown curls at the nape of my neck and wedged a small sheathed knife into the knot. The .44 Magnum Rudra, loaded with high impact silvers, the only ammunition I used, went into the unwieldy and uncomfortable holster at the small of my back. A more accessible shoulder holster carried a .45 caliber Aries under my left arm. I strapped a leather knife sheath to my left forearm, so I could grab the hilt with my right hand. I’d seen sheaths that buckled to the thigh, but I preferred my legs free, so I could run better. Knowing when to run had saved me more than once.

I pinned my mass of unruly and not so lovely brown curls at the nape of my neck and wedged a small sheathed knife into the knot. The .44 Magnum Rudra, loaded with high impact silvers, the only ammunition I used, went into the unwieldy and uncomfortable holster at the small of my back. A more accessible shoulder holster carried a .45 caliber Aries under my left arm. I strapped a leather knife sheath to my left forearm, so I could grab the hilt with my right hand. I’d seen sheaths that buckled to the thigh, but I preferred my legs free, so I could run better. Knowing when to run had saved me more than once. 


About the Author:

After twenty years in public service, Lee Roland retired to become a full-time paranormal romance and urban fantasy writer. Her first three published novels, the Earth Witches, series tells the stories of strong men and women who battle the evil hiding under the surface of the modern world.  Lee hasn’t always been a writer, but has always been a daydreamer, constantly making up stories and noted for rewriting her school day into happy endings when telling her mother.  Winner of numerous literary contests and a Golden Heart nominee, she currently lives and writes with her beloved dogs and cats in North Central Florida.