Andie M Long is one of my go-to authors for laugh out loud RomComs, so I was excited to see the first book in a new series. The Vampire wants a Wife, book 1 in the Supernatural Dating Agency series, didn't disappoint.
Running a dating agency can be a killer…
Shelley Linley is sick of sickos. Yet another prankster has applied to her dating agency. This one says he’s a vampire and he wants Shelley to help him find a wife.
Meeting him for a second interview against all her better judgement, Shelley discovers that he has no clue about women. A shame because he’s super-hot, amusing, and has a lot of single friends he could recommend her struggling business to, even if he does say they’re werewolves and demons. She has to help him, even if he’s crazy.
If she can ignore his delusions, she’s sure she can help him meet someone. But when death threats start arriving on her doorstep, Shelley’s not sure she’s cut out for the job…then her dating algorithm states she’s his ideal partner. Now she’s not sure if she should take the risk for love, or run like hell.
Welcome to Withernsea and the Supernatural Dating Agency, for readers of Michelle Rowen, Gerry Bartlett and Michele Bardsley who like their humour to have bite.
Buy The Vampire wants a Wife to see if Theodore gets his happy forever after.
Momma Says: 5 out of 5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Romance, laughs, and a bit of suspense and danger combine to make for one crazy good story in The Vampire Wants a Wife. Andie Long's talent for story-telling shines in this first in the series with a fast-paced, hilarious tale. This one is a great blend of paranormal, romance, sexy fun, tension-building suspense and just the right amount of perfectly timed levity. When an oh so sexy vampire sets his sights on a human who's sure vampires don't exist, problems are sure to arise, and this pair finds plenty of problems. I loved Shelley's snark and Theo's reaction to her antics was sooo good. There are so many great characters in this one and I can't wait to see them again as the series progresses. The only downfall was that I was having such a good time with this crazy bunch that I didn't want it to end! Long has certainly set a high bar for what comes next in the Supernatural Dating Agency world. Momma😘 Connect with me on Facebook and Twitter
Momma Says: 4 out of 5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Shadowchild starts out a bit slow, but once it gets going, it doesn't let up. There's nothing more disturbing than a creepy child. If the cover doesn't give you chills, take that and multiply by 10, and you still won't touch the many ways that this one will get you. The author certainly knows how to set a scene and once the action starts, it's nonstop and it gets deeply disturbing and quite graphic. Needless to say, this one is not for the faint of heart and I have to add that when I reached the conclusion, I'm certain that I would not want to spend any time inside this author's head! Right up there with the likes of early Stephen King!
Helen stormed into the office and glared at DCI Royal with accusing eyes, she went to speak but Royal got in first.
“One word Roberts and you’re off the case too!” he said with an icy cold stare right back at her. As the two of them locked eyes, three people, cut and bloodied, burst in through the door at the rear of the office. A man in his late forties leapt on to the back of the seated DCI Royal slamming his icy stare into the desk with an almighty crack. A woman in her early forties knocked DI Scott to the ground and ran at Helen. She braced herself and took hold of her upper arms as she was forced back against the wall. DI Scott shuffled back into the corner and hugged his legs while the struggle ensued. DCI Royal was a bloody mess, bleeding heavily from his face as the man continued to smash his head on the desk. The third person, a boy no older than ten was on all fours as he crawled towards DCI Royal. Helen saw the boy over the shoulder of her assailant as he tore flesh from Royal’s leg with his teeth.
“Do something Scott for fuck’s sake!” Helen screamed, “Danny!” she yelled as loud as she could, desperately hoping that he would hear her. Scott had drained to white and was huddled in a tight foetal ball with his eyes screwed shut, he was helping no one and failed to realise he’d be next. The woman snapped her teeth towards Helen’s face but she was able to push away hard enough to make her miss and turn her around so she was facing the wall. “Danny help me!” she yelled again, now only able to hear the child chewing flesh rather than see it; it wasn’t any less disgusting. Helen pushed the woman’s arm up her back and forced her to the ground; still she gnashed her teeth and struggled to twist over. Danny cracked her across the base of the head with his baton knocking her out cold.
“Thanks,” Helen panted, reaching for her cuffs to make sure she wasn’t getting free if she came to. DCI Royal was dead and as the boy chewed on the flesh from his leg, the man was tearing at his throat like a wild beast.
“Who the fuck are these people?” Danny asked rhetorically. He stepped towards the boy and cuffed him with ease; the boy snarled and drooled like a feral dog, the meat from his kill spilling from his jaws. Helen took the child and sat him next to the woman with her foot in his chest to keep him from getting up.
“Scott!” she shouted, he was whimpering pathetically and struggled to force open his eyes, which were full of terror. The man stood tall behind Royal’s slumped corpse, sucking the slivers of flesh into his mouth. “Have you got this Danny?” Helen asked seeing him edge out from behind the desk looking at her partner. Helen grabbed her radio, “Hal, Moran; get to the control room now!” she shouted into it.
“Hey Roberts, you’re early; you and lover boy having a tiff?” Moran joked.
“Cut the shit and get here Moran, DCI Royal’s just been eaten alive!” Danny span round and kicked the man square in the side of the head; he folded over sideways hitting his head into the desk and then flopped flat out on his back.
“Yeah I’ve got it,” he said, turning towards Helen. “You okay?” he asked.
“Better now thanks,” Danny searched the man for some id, he found his wallet and pulled out his driving license; he looked over at Helen.
“Sam Little, that’s the family I told you about; what the fuck happened to make them like this? I guess that’s Eve, and that’s Carl” he pointed at the others.
Hal and Moran ran into the office.
“What the fuck? I didn’t think you were serious, Jesus Christ!” Moran said seeing Royal slumped back with his throat torn open.
“Moran, keep it together and tie these three up properly will you; I’m gonna get some backup.” She stood back and stretched her leg while Moran and Hal took over restraining the boy. “And keep away from their mouths if you don’t want to end up like Royal.” she patted them both on their backs, “thanks.” Helen knelt down in front of DI Scott. “How quick can you get the armed response unit here sir?” DI Scott looked across at DCI Royal.
“Is he dead?” Scott whimpered and squirmed back in the corner crying.
“Yes he’s dead and you need to pull yourself together before we all are,” He just cried louder. “Scott!” Helen shouted, slapping him across the face, “you need to get the armed response unit here now!” He opened his eyes and Helen held his teary stare, “you need to step up and do this sir,” she said calmly; hoping to get through to him that way instead.
“Helen,” Moran wanted her attention, she looked up and he was gesturing towards the door as if to seek her advice; she seemed to have taken charge of the situation with her authoritative manner.
“Danny, get him out of here,” she saw a cameraman in the doorway filming the scene. Danny was on it already, noticing the man at the same time as Helen. He manhandled the cameraman out of the door and wrenched the camera from his grasp.
“Hey, you can’t do that!” he objected loudly. Danny proceeded to smash the camera on the floor. DI Scott had calmed quickly after realising the immediate threat had been quelled and he clambered to his feet.
“You can’t do that Curran,” suddenly he was trying to claw back his authority at the same time as sniffing backs his tears. Danny looked at him as he stamped the camera angrily.
“You want this shit on the news?” He gestured around the room, “you want videos of you cowering in the corner all over the internet do you?” The cameraman reached down and started grabbing pieces of his camera. “You get out, I won’t tell you again,” Danny said. Helen, Hal, and Moran all looked at him dagger eyed; the man left quickly, leaving his equipment behind.
“Are you sorting the armed response unit or am I?” Helen asked of DI Scott.
“I’m calling the chief of police; he’ll know what to do.”
“Just get us some backup sir, before any more crazies come through here.”
shady corner in life can be a dark and mysterious place, but in the
shady corners of the mind, the mystery and darkness know no
a struggle with his conscience and haunted by images of murder, David
is given a choice to right the wrongs of his past.
he cheat fate and avoid his future? Or is the evil that dwells within
him more than it seems?
Momma Says: 4 out of 5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐ It's increasingly hard to find anything original in the horror genre, so The Shady Corner took me by surprise with its unique story line. The one drawback for me was the way the story jumped back and forth in the timeline. It felt that some chapters ended rather abruptly and then jumped to a different time in David's life. In spite of that, the story does move at a fast pace and the characters are complex and love them or hate them, they're intriguing. Williams paints an eerie picture and sets a scene masterfully as he takes us throughout the life of the troubled David. In fact, I spent most of this tale simultaneously hating David and feeling sorry for him. Some scenes are graphic and disturbing, and a lot of the story is psychological in nature with a bit of the supernatural keep the chills and tension rising. The book, on the whole, is completely riveting and kept me turning pages to see what would happen next.
Unable to stomach the sight before him, he looked down at the object in his hands. It was a sculpture; a brass sculpture wet with blood, similar to a totem pole, but square in section and plainly decorated with five granite like faces, spiralling from top to base. Every edge was either sharp or pointed; its razor like form had torn his hands to shreds. Noticing these wounds made him aware of the pain they were causing him. The sculpture dropped on to the blood soaked tiles; shattering them as it hit and he raised his hands to his face. A sea of red covered his palms, but oddly this seemed to relax him a little; focussing his attention away from the horror within the room on to the agonising sensation that was biting his nerves.
As he watched the blood ooze from his fingers, he flexed them back and forth; his tendons writhing in the blood, like worms in soil. The sight made him feel dizzy and nauseous, and he slumped down into the shady corner once again, his body now limp and weak. After a moments stillness he noticed a ray of sunshine cast its light upon his boot, he raised his head and peered across the room; the horror that had earlier repulsed him was now far clearer than before, shards of light ensnared it with crosshatched shadows from the windowpane.
A scarlet corpse lay on the tiles, still twitching in the sunlight; blood soaked flesh hung loosely from the bones, in small ragged pieces. David could see it was a woman’s body, but otherwise unidentifiable. Her lower limbs were the only part of her not beaten beyond recognition. “Oh God! What have I done?” He sobbed, “I couldn’t have done this, I don’t even know who she is?” David raised his hands to cover his mouth; he could taste the blood as it seeped passed his lips, wetting his dry palate. The woman’s torso was a mass of torn flesh and fabric engulfed with blood, her rib cage was smashed open exposing her lungs to the sun, cooking them; steaming them with its heat. Her skull was shattered; its splintered fragments protruded through the torn flesh on her face and one of her eyeballs lay ruptured on her cheek, still attached by the optic nerve; the clear bloodstained jelly running down towards the floor. Several flies buzzed and hovered about her pulverised corpse, homing in on its stink. A couple of the flies fed in her cranial cavity, like desert vultures on a carcass.
in 1975, Matthew Williams has been a keen fan of the
horror/thriller/fantasy genres for as long as he can remember.
Whether it’s a film, a TV series, or a novel; he is drawn to all
the different aspects of these genres. Mainly it’s the complexities
and the mysteries that can be expressed with freedom and imagination
that he enjoys the most.
fan of authors such as Stephen King, James Herbert, Dean Koontz,
Richard Layman – to name but a few!
fan of TV shows such as Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, Breaking
Bad, American Horror Story – to name but a few!
fan of films such as Saw, Seven, Eden Lake, The Descent, Quarantine,
Skeleton Key, The Sixth Sense – to name but a few!
now has a small body of work of his own with ‘The Shady Corner’
and ‘Shadowchild’ only the beginning of what he is determined to
grow into an extensive collection of horror/thriller fiction novels.
to be banished to the underworld by the humans, Krista mysteriously
finds herself as the first of her kind to walk on the surface in
centuries. This was caused by one of the underworld’s corrupt
leaders, Danil, who uses her in an unholy ritual to set their people
free. Danil’s infectious touch gives Krista the nightmarish disease
known as Mental Damnation.
becomes the key interest of two men, Paladin and Dr. Alsroc, who
struggle to make sense of her sudden appearance and how it relates to
Mental Damnation. Her friend back in the underworld, Darkwing,
abandons his gang to begin his search for her.
finds herself torn between two worlds, gaining acceptance among the
humans while experiencing inner turmoil from hallucinations caused by
her disease. These visions paint a hellish dream world known as
Dreadweave Pass where the realm’s ruler, a corrupt god known as the
Weaver, is on the hunt for her. Krista’s blood is believed to be a
key component for the Weaver’s retribution against the Heavenly
Kingdoms that once banished him!
Repentance: a word that holds a heavy weight on one’s psyche—that is, if they understand the sensation of guilt from an action. Even if one isn’t the direct cause of the situation, one can still feel a sense of accountability for what occurred. They may feel they could have prevented the affair or felt powerless in its wake. How long does one hold onto these negative emotions until no longer haunted by them?
“Paladins have been known to act quickly before processing a scenario. What happened in the past is not your fault,” a high-pitched yet manly voice spoke while he stared at a bronze cup filled with water. The man brushed his black curly hair out of his face while keeping a cold gaze on the cup. His scarred lips were expressionless.
The cup rested on an oak table, gripped tightly by another man’s large hands. He stared at the liquid inside, seeing a faint reflection of the dirty-blonde hair that draped down past his face. The other details of his figure were shrouded in the darkness; only the silhouette of his face appeared.
I am simply a reflection of a time that has come and gone, the man thought.
“Paladin?” the curly-haired man asked.
“Yes, Smyth?” Paladin asked as he looked up to his companion, who sat on the opposite end of the table.
“I was saying you cannot hold yourself responsible for what happened on Mount Kuzuchi all those years ago. There were much larger events at play than what one man can control.”
“I disagree with that. The whole event was orchestrated and executed by Karazickle, one draconem. A man and a draconem are still each a single individual.” I could have prevented it, if I had known sooner.
Paladin looked out to the window behind Smyth where he could see the sun begin to set, projecting an orange hue onto the landscape. They sat on the second level of the keep, in one of the study rooms. The two of them had taken some books from the nearby shelves. The manuscripts were filled with information about rituals and tribal species in the Kingdom of Zingalg.
Paladin looked down to his open book where some illustrations of swirls and circles were accompanied by brief descriptions. “Nothing explains why the Drac Lord was disguised as Saule, or why he wanted to be rid of the vazelead people to begin with.”
Smyth closed his book. “Whatever the Drac Lord Karazickle wanted out of the vazelead people had little to do with us, therefore it has little to do with you.”
“That is why he slaughtered my comrades? That is why he destroyed the Paladins of Zeal and dissolved the Knight’s Union?”
Damnation Part 1
her family murdered by the humans during her people’s banishment
from the surface world, Krista and her only friend, Darkwing,
struggle to remain alive. The pair of reptilian street scum live in
their newfound home, the City of Renasence, dictated by a fascist
military known as the Renasence Guard. The two find themselves at
odds when Krista puts her faith in the Five Guardians’ goal of
unification, while Darkwing chooses to stand with a notorious gang,
the Blood Hounds, who are known for their anarchist views
divide in their friendship forces Krista to persist on her own as the
Five Guardians become crazed from an unknown disease - Mental
Damnation. After their infection, the Guardians develop a bizarre
interest in her, claiming they must reap her innocence for their
newfound master, the Weaver.
a military dictatorship, politically-driven gangs and their guardians
infected and on a hunt for her, Krista has limited options for
survival: Does she fend for her life in the City of Renascence,
against menacing forces, or risk leaving everything behind and enter
the uncharted realm of the underworld?
Just a few words of many used to describe my master’s realm – Dreadweave Pass, a temporary purgatory for souls to redeem themselves in the eyes of the gods in the Heavenly Kingdoms. I often chuckle to myself, wondering why the gods assumed I could be redeemed. They would have been better off sending me into one of the deeper hells of Dega’Mostikas’ Triangle. There is no redemption for the life I lived in the mortal realm – or the one I live now, serving my master, the Weaver.
I suppose I will have to remind the gods of this fact once my life here ends and I return to the gates of the Heavenly Kingdoms. Although that seems rather unlikely, considering that the Weaver’s necromantic arts have made me immortal. I can never again experience what I knew as death. I will simply have to tell the gods with my blade once we free my master and wage war on the Heavenly Kingdoms for banishing him to Dreadweave Pass.
"General Dievourse?" A voice rang out in the silence.
General Dievourse shot to life, his pure white eyes widening in surprise as he shook off his daydream. His pale, decaying face turned toward the humanoid silhouette that loomed ahead of him as his internal monologue dissolved.
Dievourse recognized the silhouette. It was his lieutenant, standing tall in his studded leather armour, wrapped in belts and buckles holding a range of assassination equipment – from knives to poison needles and even some weaponry Dievourse could not identify.
"The child." The lieutenant pointed down and the general's eyes followed, coming to rest on a small, pasty, pathetic-looking human boy, about twelve years old. The child's bright blue eyes shone with fear from under wisps of dark hair. His neck was wrapped in a rusty chain.
Dievourse, holding the other end of the chain, lifted his hand. Saying nothing, he examined the child.
"It is to be sent to the Weaver, correct?" the lieutenant asked.
"Correct, lieutenant," Dievourse replied, lowering the chain.
The lieutenant nodded. "With any hope, it will meet the Weaver's expectations. The Gatekeepers look long and hard for them in the mortal realm."
Dievourse nodded with a scowl. “One can only hope.”
Lavery is a Canadian horror and dark fantasy writer who is known for
his Mental Damnation series. The second book, Dream, reached the
Edmonton Journal’s top five selling fictional books list. He
started writing fantasy stories at a very young age while being home
schooled. It wasn’t until graduating college that he began
professionally pursuing his work with his first release, Reality.
Since then he has continued to write works of fiction ranging from
fantasy to horror.
literary work is done in the long hours of the night. By day, Konn
runs his own graphic design and website development business under
the title Reveal Design. These skills have been transcribed into the
formatting and artwork found within his publications supporting his
fascination of transmedia storytelling.