Book 5 of my Dark Fantasy epic Worlds Beyond Scripture is finished and being primed for release! To help celebrate I'll be running a number of promotions as counting down the days. There will be a cover reveal coming up and also a potential book signing (pandemic permitting). Please subscribe to join in the fun! 

Excerpt: 

On a dark night, down a dark street, she travels alone. Her footsteps fall hard off a dead air as she turns along the alleyway. Heels in motion, she pulls her coat closed around her to shield away a chill rain on this unseasonably cold, September night.

The woman stops suddenly and looks around, thinking she has heard something. Yet nothing is there to be found; just a wild imagination running away with her.

She turns back around and he’s there, standing right in front of her.

She shudders. Yet, a glance of his uniform is all that it takes to tell her she has nothing to dread.

A raise of her head allows that eyes meet. Now face to face, caught in the icy grip of a solemn stare.

It all happens in an instant.

He moves on her faster than human sight might see. There is no struggling. In her mind she’s still locked into his gaze, long watching him as caught in this moment, and unable a look away…

It’s better this way.

As the flood of her life enters his mouth, he swallows it in with such satisfaction. The monster must feed, and feed he will. To quell this thirst stirring from within—a longing he cannot hope to escape—that he is made to obey. The haunting of a curse delivered upon him is more a kind of master he is incapable of being rid of. He is a victim to his prey as laid in servitude to the need, for so long he can’t quite remember.

Her body drops to the ground, dead. As he mourns his very existence, a solitary blood tear runs down the length of his cheek, and falls away. Must he go through this nightly torture for all eternity, he asks again to no one—as he has done a thousand times before—and receives the very same reply. With not the return of a word spoken, he knows all too well: it is as it has been and always will be, forevermore. He is forsaken.

“Oh, wretched thing that stalks the night, why does he suffer so?”

The sudden emergence of a haunting voice enters from an adjacent avenue, filtering through the corridor, as if sneaking up from behind upon the unsuspecting party.

“Scavenging on the scraps of insolvent souls…”

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