Today I am taking part in the Work in Progress blog tour, to help people get to know some new writers. This blog tour has some rules (which I, like several of
those before me, will break), but just so you know:
– Each writer posts a little something from their work in
progress. It's supposed to be the first sentence from the first three chapters,
but in my case, I'm giving the whole first chapter because it's short.
– Like back to the blog post of the person who nominated
you. Like Elyse, who nominated me, I'll do more than link because she deserves
to have people know about her.
– Nominate three other writers. No problem there, I can
think of a dozen who deserve a little spotlight time. Picking just three was
the hard part, so I did four.
Okay, here we go.
***
I was nominated by Elyse Draper, a highly talented writer
from Colorado. We've known each other since 2008, when I first read FREEWILL (book
1 of her Freewill trilogy), an astounding piece of modern fantasy that
immediately grabbed me with its prose, which border on poetic. If you haven't
read this book or its sequels, CONSEQUENCES and VINDICATION, do so right away.
Elyse also writes horror, non-fiction, and all sorts of other stuff from her
mountainous lair. Plus she has an intense love of art, nature, and animals, all
of which helped make us fast friends.
Find out more by visiting her website, http://elysedraper.webs.com/, and her
blog https://elysedraper.wordpress.com/about/
***
DEAD STALK (tentative title)
Alex Bay existed in a world that alternated between black
and red.
During the black times, he ached, physically and mentally.
His limbs throbbed, his head threatened to explode, and a hollow, empty feeling
made him want to double over and grip his belly, but he couldn't move. The
hunger roiled inside his guts, begging to be filled with terrible things.
Worse were the memories that came to him, digging at his
heart and soul like acid-coated claws. His name. His job as a New York City
police officer. Coming home after a long night at work and finding Carl
Meriwether, one of Andrea’s co-workers, waiting in front of the building. A
burst of white-hot pain as Meriweather's knife stabbed into his chest. Lying on
the ground while Meriwether told him he didn’t deserve a fiancé like Andrea,
that now it was his turn. Meriweather's blade hovering in the air, shining in
the glow of street lights. Closer. Closer. Pushing past the pain to speak.
Telling Meriwether he’d do whatever it took to make sure Andrea stayed safe. A
moment of pure, all-encompassing agony.
The black times never lasted for long, though. The red always
returned, riding in on a fiery rage that saturated him to the point where
nothing existed except his desire for revenge and a terrible craving to tear
someone into bloody pieces, sink his teeth into hot, salty flesh.
Black and red. Black and red. Over and over.
Until the moment when his legs moved and he felt something
else other than burning hatred and desperate hunger.
Cold. Cold against his skin.
In that moment, Alex knew he’d returned.
***
My Four Nominees:
Chantal Noordeloos
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You can follow her here: http://www.chantalnoordeloos.info/
***
John Palisano
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You can find out more about
him and his books here: https://johnpalisano.wordpress.com/
***
J.H. Moncrieff
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***
Russell R. James
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