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First up today, is a really thrilling excerpt from Dana Wright’s romantic suspense, Asylum.
Rachel moved farther down the hall. The peeling wallpaper and damaged wooden panels made her sad. The crumbled bits of tile and broken glass littering the floor kept her alert to where she placed her feet. It was pulling her and she needed someone to center her. Now. She stopped in front of a surgical suite and paused. “Matt?” “I’m here.” She felt his warmth behind her. “What can I do?” “Don’t let go,” Rachel whispered and slipped her hand in his.
Matt watched helplessly as Rachel drew in on herself. She stood stock still, the blood draining from her face leaving her washed out and without color. The air around her began to vibrate and disembodied voices echoed through the air. He yanked his hand out of her grip and stumbled backwards. Rachel moaned and her hands clenched into fists. He blinked and his eyes searched the room for Trevor. He’d stepped out of the room, probably in disgust at watching him hold Rachel’s hand like some kind of idiot. Fine. He would play her game, but only until he had enough rope to hang her with.
She didn’t answer, her eyes locked on something ahead of her that only she could see.
Matt stepped closer, but hesitated to touch her. She appeared fragile enough to break. He gingerly reached out and laid his hand on her forehead. She was frigid. Freezing. He drew his hand back with an intake of breath and gritted his teeth. This was odd. He walked around her and scanned the walls and floors. Nothing. No wires, no air drafts.
He wasn’t prepared for this. Matt had never seen any documentation of her lapsing into any kind of fugue state and he’d researched the hell out of this woman. The injury from the last case made it imperative to find out all he was able to about his new “partner” on this case. If he was going into the dark with someone, he was going to make damned well sure who. The fact that she didn’t appear to have any involvements in her life, save for a grandmother she cared for, was an unexpected relief. That still didn’t make her an honest ghost hunter.
Her spark got under his skin. Most women he encountered bowed and scraped to his celebrity status. Rachel didn’t. She was beautiful and smart and right now was scaring the holy fucking hell out of him. Was that the difference here? That she didn’t have Jeannie to act as the buffer from whatever it was she was experi- encing? Was she some kind of psychic too? The thought brought a chill to his skin.
Her lips, now turning blue, moved but there was no sound.
Nothing. His guts twisted inside of him.
Matt tipped her chin up to search her eyes. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but as he gazed into the blue depths of her glassy orbs, he felt his perception of reality tilt. Something flickered behind her gaze that drew him down into another time. Another reality. Voices and echoes of the past stormed past his defenses and he found himself standing not in a derelict building, but a busy operating room.
“Nurse. Get me the ether,” a man wearing a white coat and blue face mask demanded, his white eyebrows turned down in irritation.
“Yes, doctor.” The white-capped nurse hurried to do his bidding. She scurried to a counter at the back of the room, dodging three other nurses. The nurse returned quickly with the mask and the bottle.
“You.” He pointed at the youngest of the nurses. A sallow- faced woman with mousy brown hair smoothed her hands along her apron and waited for whatever abuse was about to be heaped at her feet. “Get out of the way. We have a sterilization procedure at one-thirty.” The doctor slid the mask over the woman’s face. “Go ready the patient in 4B. I’ll be with her shortly.”
The female patient strapped to the chair writhed against the restraints, her eyes wide and terrified. Gagged, she tried to speak but only succeeded in letting a line of spittle down her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered and her face went slack as the effects of the chemical took over.
“You have been a very bad girl, Frau Gilbert. Trying to escape when all your husband wanted from you is your obedience. But lucky for you I have the perfect remedy for willful women such as yourself.” The doctor roughly gripped her face and moved it back and forth.
The woman lay still and the doctor removed the mask.
“Tray! Alcohol!” came the next gruff orders and the remaining nurses scattered to acquire said items. Matt blinked, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. His stomach churned with fear and the hair on his arms stood up. He was there. With Rachel. In the past. It was impos- sible. Wasn’t it? Is this how she found the missing boy and all those other people? Living through horrors to find them?
“Oh God,” he whispered, the very real terror sinking in. This was fucking real.
He faced Rachel and still held her face in his hands. Matt moved away, but remembering her warning didn’t break contact. He slid his hand down her shoulder and took her clammy hand in his. Maybe if he continued touching her, it would generate a fit of rage. Something. Anything.
Oh my God. Matt’s stomach curdled and he struggled with the urge to vomit.
“Rachel,” he hissed. “Where are we?”
“They can’t hear us,” she responded, her voice flat. “I’m sorry. I took us back too far. I was thinking of my grandmother and I must have overshot.” She stared hard at the woman in the chair, completely transfixed.
“He’s really going to do it.” Matt’s eyes took in the scene in front of him and he drew his lips back in horror. “He’s going to give her a lobotomy right here.”
The voices of the past are alive behind the iron gates of Bremore Asylum. Can Rachel and Matt deduce its secrets before it’s too late?
When Rachel agrees to take the job investigating the disappearance of a fellow ghost hunter at Bremore Asylum, she is totally unprepared for the sexy and stubborn psychic debunker Matt Rutledge to be a part of the package. Can these two opposing forces find the answers behind the asylum’s crumbling walls before they become the newest victims to the asylum’s grim history?
Next up is an awesomely scary zombie attack from Casey McKay’s, Cursed Waters.
She saw the sun trying to break through the clouds, it was late afternoon and they hoped to have the natural light while they searched the island for Seaweed. Trevor fell into step next to her and she felt comforted as he grabbed her hand, twining his fingers with hers. They walked in silence as Trevor swished the plastic whiffle ball bat in front of them like it was a sword. She shook her head, boys and their toys.
They turned left down the next street and Roxy would have shrieked if she had the breath to scream. Two of the slow walkers were standing in their path, and now that they were up close there was no mistaking that they were zombies. Trevor quickly pushed her behind him and out of his way. He took a step forward, wielding the plastic bat in front of him.
“They might not want to hurt us,” she started and one of the zombies growled, making her jump.
Trevor showed no signs of being shaken, physically, but Roxy was standing close enough to him that she could hear him muttering, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” Over and over. Roxy stepped to the side, bringing herself into view. These weren’t like the slow walkers she saw this morning who were all dazed and out of it, wandering aimlessly. These two guys were looking right at them. Their clothes were ripped and torn and they were covered in mud. As if they had clawed themselves out of their own graves, she shivered at the thought. Their pale skin held a grayish pallor and their dead eyes made her skin crawl.
Trevor glanced in her direction, “Get back!”
She took a step back and dropped to one knee, placing her back pack in front of her. Roxy rustled through its contents as Trevor assessed the situation, shaking the fearsome plastic toy in the approaching zombie’s faces. She found what she needed and rose back up to her full height, slinging the pack up to her shoulder.
“Stay back, guys. We don’t want any trouble.” Trevor was trying to reason with the zombies, who were advancing on them quickly. Their grunts were getting louder and their slow, jerking movements were making Roxy more than a little nervous. She came up to stand beside Trevor again.
“I said, get back,” he snapped as he glared at her. Then he saw the item in her hand. “What’s that?”
Roxy held up the wooden implement that looked like a giant paddle. “It’s a bread board, I thought it might work a little better than that.” She tilted her head towards the bat.
As they were sizing up each other’s weapons the zombies had gotten much closer. Their attention moved back to their current situation when they heard something between a growl and a moan escape from one of their assailants. Trevor raised his bat up, “I’m serious guys, back the fuck up, or someone’s going to get hurt.”
The zombies hesitated a half step, but then lurched forward. Roxy and Trevor both let out screams as the swung their weapons down. Roxy shrieked louder as her zombie’s head exploded in front of her. She looked to her right to see how Trevor fared, only to find him standing with a bent plastic bat in his hands and a really pissed off zombie staring down at him.
“Duck!” Roxy yelled as she swung at the same time. Trevor crouched down on the ground as her swing connected with the zombie’s head. It exploded on impact, spraying them both in zombie blood. The lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud and Roxy immediately doubled over and started heaving. She felt Trevor’s hands on her shoulders, steadying her as she shook.
“That was awesome!” He sounded ecstatic, Roxy couldn’t muster the energy to get excited about having blood all over her. “You okay? Are you gonna hurl?”
“I’m not cut out for this,” Roxy said as she stood back up, “what the hell is going on?”
Roxy Wilson is going through the motions. She’s running her deceased grandmother’s psychic readings shop, but she’s not a psychic. Hoping to expand and just become a gift shop, she contacts her ex-boyfriend, Trevor Dale. Only she doesn’t anticipate the feelings she’s still having for him after four years of separation.
Trevor could never get Roxy out of his system, and now with her so close to him again, he’s reluctant to let her go. But a 40 year- old curse involving evil spells and zombies overtaking the small, seaside town of Ocean Pointe may put a stop to any sort of romantic reunion.
Can Roxy and Trevor break the curse and save their town from zombies? Find out in my upcoming release Cursed Waters, out later this month!
Warning: This book contains spankings and anal play between two consenting adults. If you are offended by this subject matter please do not read this.