Willem by Victoria Danann

Title: Willem

Author: Victoria Danann

Series: Witches of Wimberley #1

Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal Romance

Release Date: June 24, 2016

Summary:

He squinted his eyes and gave me a little smile like he questioned my sanity.

“You do know we’re talking about witches, right?”

“I know there are a lot of people who call themselves witches, but what it means is they like burning candles, dancing naked sometimes, I guess. Are you saying you think there are women here who really are touched by the supernatural?”

He laughed. “Man. I don’t know how you’re sitting on that stool next to me. How did you manage to get this far without knowing anything about what you’re doing here?” He shook his head. “Yes. I do mean there are women here who really are touched by the supernatural.”

I had to admit that I felt a thrill start in my nipples and run all the way through my body producing goosebumps, a cock twitch, and a half hard. What if it was true? I’d spent my whole life secretly hoping that I’d be lucky enough to have an actual encounter with the other side of reality, while not really believing that such a thing might be possible.

That’s when I realized that I’d been on the wrong path. For the first time I recognized and confronted the fact that I didn’t really want to be an actor. I hadn’t wanted to be a college student taking a foreign language I’d never use or studying geology, which I would never use. But I hadn’t really wanted to be an actor either. It was just Plan B more or less suggested by other people. My heart wasn’t in it at all.

Acting as my heart’s desire? Don’t make me laugh. Actually there’s not much laughable about wasting ten years pursuing something I didn’t even want.

That revelation made me feel like the dumbest guy sitting on a counter stool anywhere. Why hadn’t I clued in before? And what if I couldn’t get jobs acting because I wasn’t supposed to be acting.

That follow up revelation almost blew me right off the stool.

“If that’s true, it would be beyond incredible.”

“You scared?”

It hadn’t occurred to me to be scared before and maybe that just meant I was revealing an expanded capacity for stupidity.

​​

“Should I be?” He shrugged. “Do you believe there’s a ghost at the hotel, too?”

Roger laughed again. He had a nice laugh. I wondered if that’s what they were looking for. All of a sudden I cared what they were looking for.

I wasn’t interested in contemplating a lifetime contract of marriage, but I could do a year with anybody if it meant doing actual hands-on research. Maybe I should change that to on site research.

He lifted a well-toned shoulder. “Who knows? I can’t say I’ve seen anything like that, but ley lines do intersect at the crossroads.”

I jerked my gaze back to his. “Ley lines? You know about ley lines?”

“I know enough.”

Deciding to let that go, I said, “So we’re going to meet the witches at the barbeque tonight?”

He shook his head while still taking a pull on his IBC. When he swallowed he said, “I think it’s just contestants and former winners. Our chance to talk to them about life in Wimberley or whatever. They’ll be at the big event tomorrow night though. The Witches’ Ball.”

Author Bio:
USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Victoria Danann, is making her debut into Contemporary Romance with releases in May and June 2015, after taking the world of PNR by storm.

Her Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES TWO YEARS IN A ROW (2013, 2014). Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.

Victoria's paranormal romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary" creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, psychics, past life therapists, or financial analysts from Dallas. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners - usually - whether they be elves, demons, berserkers, werewolves, or vampires.

The first book of the Knights of Black Swan Paranormal Romance Series, My Familiar Stranger, was nominated for Best Paranormal Romance of 2012 by both Reviewers' Choice and Readers' Choice Awards. All of her books have opened on the Amazon Best Sellers list and earned Night Owl Reviews TOP PICK awards. Many have appeared on Listopia BOOK OF THE MONTH as #1 across all genres.

For books published in 2013, Black Swan won three awards. 1. Best Paranormal Romance Series 2. Best Paranormal Romance Novel - A SUMMONER'S TALE 3. Best Vampire~Shifter Novel - MOONLIGHT. In 2014, Solomon's Sieve won Best Vampire Novel.

If you're interested in Victoria personally, she is also a classically trained musician who defected to Classic Rock music. Until 2013 she was the utility player for Houston's Roadhouse band, which means she played rhythm guitar, keyboards, sang back ups and female leads. Her band covered everything (note for note) from Styx to Led Zepellin to Rush.

She lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.

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Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: His Boy by Bink Cummings

Summary:
For years, I lived with him as roommates. Then, one fateful night, things changed. We became more. So much more. The sex was out of this world. Being his boy was the highlight of my day. Until feelings started to creep in and sex wasn't enough for me. Afraid of losing him, I kept quiet and hoped for a miracle... Could my Daddy love me, too? Or would I continue to be his boy… his play toy?

***Warning: Contains shameless adult sexual M/M content, adult language, taboo elements including those of consensual Daddy/Boy (non-incest) relationships, and whatever else that makes it unsuitable for anyone under the age of 18.*** 

Long 39K Standalone Steamy Novella/Short Novel

**See some of your favorite characters from the Corrupt Chaos MC series and meet new Characters to be seen in the upcoming Crimson Outlaws MC series.**

Author Bio:
Author Bink Cummings was born and raised part of a biker family. Upon the incessant coercion from her sacred sisters, she has begun her newest journey in life--writing. When she's not shacked up in her home writing at all hours of the night, Bink enjoys riding motorcycles, taking care of her family, reading, and cooking huge meals--Especially her infamous chocolate chip cookies.

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The Ghost of Mistletoe Lock by Amy Rae Durreson

Summary:
After lonely divorcé Isaac leaves his job as a banker to work as a conservationist on a country river, he gives up on finding the love he always wanted. Then he meets flirty jeweler Ryan and assumes Ryan's out of his league, but Ryan's just as lonely as Isaac. Ryan also has the housemates from hell, and when he storms out of the riotous Christmas party they forgot to warn him about, he soon finds himself lost in the snow.

Ryan passes out in front of the lock cottage where Isaac lives, and once Isaac brings him in from the cold, they finally have a chance to get to know each other. But when their insecurities get in the way, it's up to the ghost of Mistletoe Lock to ensure they give love a chance.

A beautifully written little holiday romance.  Some might not feel the insta-love between Isaac and Ryan but I did.  I found their connection very believable and enjoyable, afterall this is fiction and I'm not looking for a true to life story but even if I was, insta-love can happen so for me that is not an issue at all.  This is a just a wonderful holiday romance that is entertaining any time of the year.

RATING: 

Prologue: Emily
EMILY had drowned on a day like this, when the snow fell softly from the steel-gray sky and the water roared through the weir. Her husband had pulled her from the ice-flecked water, the tears cold on his ruddy, honest face.

She still missed him, her Harry. When he courted her in the spring, he had been a laughing boy. He had married her in the summer as the happiest man she knew, and every barge on the river had escorted them home through the warm dusk. Their first son had been born in autumn the next year, dear solemn Alfie, and Mary the year after that, her pretty girl.

The baby had cried for hours while Emily floated in the water, on that long ago winter’s day when she had left her darlings forever. The echo of those tears still held her here, kept her wishing, hold my child, somebody hold my child, even now after Mary had grown and birthed pretty babies of her own, and aged and died and gone away.

“Love,” Emily sighed, over the cold water. There had been so much love in that little cottage by the lock, in her time and the years afterward. She had watched Harry grieve and heal, his sad heart given comfort by a bargeman’s pretty daughter. Mary had kissed handsome boys beside the sweeping willow and married the plainest and kindest of them all. She’d seen Alfie love a boy and let him go, and she’d witnessed the courtships of grandchildren and great-grandchildren for two centuries.

It was her only comfort, caught here above the cold water. Love, in all its forms, was all that mattered.

There were no more barges, and no one kept the lock. Her home was too small for families, the last keeper had said, even as she wept to see him leave, her tears dissolving into the swift water. It had been so lonely the last few years, until the new man came.

He was trudging home now, along the river bank with the snow catching in his dark hair. His shoulders were bowed and he looked so tired. So lonely, this latest man of hers. When would he bring love home?

“Love,” she reminded him, her voice thin in the quiet hush of falling snow. “You must find love.”


Chapter One: Isaac
AS HE stomped up the ironstone path, shaking the snow off his boots, Isaac felt even more remote from the world than usual. On the step of the old lock-keeper’s cottage, he turned and looked along the river, watching the snow sift onto the lock gates and the covered boats on the bank.

He’d wanted isolation, wanted to get away from everything that had made up his life before. Now he had it, he just felt even more tired and sad.

The surroundings suited his mood—the river was gray, its edges dull with ice. The snow was steadily weighing down the trees and blanketing the heavy, tangled balls of mistletoe that grew so abundantly here. In the distance, the sound more muffled than usual, he could hear the low groan of traffic heading into Guildford, but it seemed like a noise from another world.

Then, woven between the noise from the road and the whisper-soft sigh of the snow, he heard a woman weeping.

It came from the other side of the lock, where the water tumbled endlessly down the stepped weir. Shivering, Isaac squinted through the swirling snow, wondering if he’d see her this time. There was nothing out there, though, just snow and water and the sound of tears. The other lengthsmen who tended the river had told him stories when he first took the job. She had been a lock-keeper’s wife. Only children ever saw her, watching over them as they played.

She made the lock gardens flower for a wedding.

“Come inside, Emily,” he said softly. “It’s too cold for anyone out here.”

The sound of her tears followed him as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, shrugging off his heavy overcoat. It got thrown onto the polished wooden coatrack at the bottom of the stairs, and Isaac leaned back against the door, surveying his small domain.

He couldn’t blame the ghost for weeping at this time of year, not if this had once been her home. It was pristine, in his defense—he had polished the antique Aga range until he could see his face in its red veneer, waxed the old wooden floors, and spent long evenings bringing the brass fire surround and tongs back to their original sheen.

There was no sign of Christmas, though. He’d got as far as bringing the boxes down from the spare room, but his heart hadn’t been in it.

Last year his tree had been so huge that he’d struggled to get it into the lift of their expensive apartment building. He’d festooned every wall of the sleek flat with specially ordered evergreen garlands. Subtle lights had twinkled discreetly around the windows, and the tree had been laden with expensive ornaments. A playlist of cathedral choirs singing carols in soaring voices had played quietly in the evenings. He’d bought a mulled wine kit and spent Christmas Eve breathing in the rich scent of it, dreaming about Christmases yet to come. He’d even started thinking about children, about creating perfect memories for them.

It had been too soon, of course, only the first Christmas of their marriage. He had wanted that life, though. The thought of Amelia round with his child was somehow more attractive than any other thought of her.

He must have realized at some level, he thought bitterly now. Why try so hard to create the perfect fantasy Christmas if he wasn’t already aware that she was slipping away?

She’d been very nice about all his efforts, very kind. Then, on New Year’s Eve, she had asked for a divorce and told him about the other man, the soldier she thought she should have married in the first place.

He’d stumbled back to his parents’ house. There, in the bustle of their New Year’s celebrations, he’d sought solace in copious amounts of whisky and the boy next door, a pretty pouty-lipped undergrad who’d been only too willing to sneak into the garage and suck him off to the strokes of midnight.

Which would have been all very well, had his mother not walked in just as he was coming down the throat of a boy he’d once babysat.

As if the thought had summoned her, the phone began to ring.

He was a bad son, Isaac thought glumly. A good son wouldn’t be wishing this fervently for a double-glazing salesman. A glance at the caller ID told him he wouldn’t be that lucky.

“I’ve been calling all morning,” his mother said. “Where have you been?”

“Working,” Isaac said patiently. “We cut back the vegetation around the towpath in winter.”

“On a Saturday?” His mother’s tone conveyed her opinion of any job that required working, let alone manual labor, on weekends. “Right before Christmas too. Really, Isaac, there are better things you could be doing with your life.”

“It’s the National Trust,” he tried. Usually, that mollified her a little. She’d probably have disowned him if he’d started working for English Heritage. When it came to preserving the English countryside, after all, venerable charitable institutions were clearly more respectable than mere upstart government bodies, at least in the eyes of his mother’s cream tea and church fete set.

He could hear the sniff all the way down the line and closed his eyes in response. He loved his mother, he really did, her drive, sharp wit, and overprotectiveness. He just didn’t love failing to live up to her expectations.

“Now, about Christmas,” she continued briskly. “You’ll be here in time for Midnight Mass, of course. You should know that I’ve invited Amelia—”

“You’ve done what?” Isaac asked, startled into interrupting.

“Invited Amelia.”

“You’ve invited my ex-wife for Christmas?”

“You know I’m very fond of the poor girl, and her family is so far away—”

“She hates me.”

“Well, you can understand why, darling, given your lifestyle choices—”

“She left me first!” Isaac yelped. His mother always made him feel like he was twelve again. Making an effort to claw back the intervening two decades, he took a breath and said, as calmly as he could, “If she’s there, I won’t be.”

“Oh, be reasonable, Isaac.”

“I hardly think I’m the one being unreasonable, Mother.”

“You never do,” she accused and then took a breath. “Jonathan, speak to your child.”

Isaac heard his father grumbling in the background, but then he came on the phone to say, “I’m on your side, son. I told her it was a bad idea.”

So why didn’t you stop her? Isaac thought as his mother protested faintly. Then he reminded himself that wasn’t fair. Nobody could stop his mother once she had an idea in her head. Instead he said, “I’d really rather not see Amelia again. We’re never going to reconcile.”

“Your mother did hope,” Jonathan Cobbett began, and Isaac groaned.

“Never.”

“So are you bringing some chap along? That would set the cat among the pigeons,” he added with a slight chuckle.

“Don’t give the boy ideas, Jonathan!”

“Not this year,” Isaac said, and his father sighed. That made him feel worse than talking to his mother. Dad had been astonishingly supportive, even though he was the sort of vicar who winced faintly at the very word “reform.” He heard his father walking away and the click of the study door. “I’m sure your mother will come round. She wanted grandchildren.”

“I know,” Isaac said and tried to hide how that made him feel. He’d wanted children so much, enough that he ignored the way he liked the girls he dated well enough, but looked only at men as he sat on the Tube or walked down the street. No women had ever made him hunger for their touch.

“I’ll talk to her. A good present wouldn’t go amiss, either. Now, how’s the job? Any winter weather yet?”

Author Bio:
Amy Rae Durreson is a writer and romantic, who writes m/m romances. She likes to go wandering across the local hills with a camera, hunting for settings for her stories. She's got a degree in early English literature, which she blames for her somewhat medieval approach to spelling, and at various times has been fluent in Latin, Old English, Ancient Greek, and Old Icelandic, though please don't ask her to speak any of them now.

Amy started her first novel nineteen years ago (it featured a warrior princess, magic swords, elves and an evil maths teacher) and has been scribbling away ever since. Despite these long years of experience, she has yet to master the arcane art of the semi-colon.

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Saturday's Series Spotlight: Reaping Havoc by AJ Rose

Reaping Havoc #1
Summary:
No one asked Mitch Seeker if he wanted to be a grim reaper. He didn’t sign up for the rumors, the lack of friends, or the erratic schedule. He doesn’t want to go through life watching people die. Especially not a man he loves. Mitch’s solution is simple—don’t fall in love. He’ll never have to explain why he doesn’t age or why he’s around death so often. Most of all, he will never be a widower.

But when his head is turned by world-class skier Nate Koehn, Mitch believes he may have the answer. If the soul attached to Nate is any indication, Mitch has found himself another reaper, in which case, his undeniable feelings don’t have to be suppressed. However, the spectral tag-a-long is only the beginning of Nate’s burdens. After a catastrophic loss, Nate is no stranger to grief and the hole it leaves behind.

The question they both must answer is loud and clear: is the pain of losing love worse than the pain of never having loved at all?

Who knew a story concerning a grim reaper and death could lead to such a powerful love story?  This tale completely and utterly blew me away.  I am at a loss for words how to describe how much I loved Reaping Havoc so I am not going to confuse you with witty phrasess and play on words, I will speak plainly and to the point.  Reaping is a must read for anyone who enjoys a well written story with intriguing characters.  If you tend to only read paranormal in October then please be sure and put this at the top of your Halloween TBR list, you won't regret it.

RATING: 

Reaping Fate #2
Summary:
For Nate Koehn, the worst part of being a reaper is maintaining his compassion without becoming too involved with the souls in his charge. He’s always been sensitive to others’ hurts, and there is no hurt bigger than death, with which he’s already intimately familiar. The learning curve is steep, but the perks of the job—spending the next 300 years with the love of his life, his husband Mitch Seeker—are unmistakable. For Nate, death is a lifelong commitment.

Then Mitch is assigned to reap a serial killer’s victim.

Mitch and Nate are willing to go to just about any lengths to bring the killer to justice, but Divinity has a plan for everyone, and the reapers are at risk of being terminated themselves if they meddle too much. Mitch knows better than to tempt fate, but Nate isn’t wired to sit idly by while innocent people lose their lives to a vicious killer.

Nate sets out to balance the scales of justice for the souls in their charge, but what happens when he becomes the killer’s bug in the web? Can he stop a killer without exercising his own free will or putting those he loves in the crosshairs? Only Death knows, and he’s not talking.

Warning: Contains graphic descriptions of violence, which may be too intense for some readers. Reader discretion advised.

Sequels in the paranormal genre can be a little iffy, sometimes they seem repetitive of the first, others are equally as good, and then there is the rarity that surpasses the original.  Reaping Fate falls into the third category, I never thought it possible but it's true.  I don't do spoilers but since this is made mention of in the blurb, I guess it's okay to say something.  Having seen what Mitch dealt with in Reaping Havoc, there was an inkling to what Nate might be facing now that he is a reaper too.  This time around, amongst their reaping duties they also are facing a possible serial killer, but being reapers they have a different code of ethics when it comes to death but will Nate be able to follow the code?  For that you'll have to read it for yourself, trust me you will definitely want to.

RATING: 

Author Bio:
It began with a Halloween themed short story assignment from a second grade teacher, and from then on, AJ Rose fell head over heels in love with writing. Even an active social life through school, learning to play the piano in a passable imitation of proficient, and a daring cross country move couldn't stop the tall tales about imaginary people that refused to be ignored. With college experiences came a change in perspective to romance and passion. A propensity to slash favorite TV characters brought AJ to today, writing mostly M/M for publication. But don't be surprised if the occasional ghost still pops up.

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Reaping Havoc #1

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Reaping Fate #2

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Tangled Sin by Georgia Lyn Hunter

Title: Tangled Sin

Author: Georgia Lyn Hunter

Series: Dark Realm

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Release Date: June 21, 2016

Summary:

In a world of encroaching darkness and carnal hunger, a deadly sin awakens…

Bound to a legacy he cannot escape, Riley is a demon unlike any other. With each passing century, his soul grows darker until the seductive trouble-magnet, Saia Sen-Grayson, stumbles into his path and throws his entire world off kilter. But danger has a way of finding him and destroying anything worthwhile in his life.

The biggest challenge in Saia’s life is evading her matchmaking socialite mother. Then she crashes into the sexiest man in her aunt’s building. One look into his striking green eyes and her fleeing days skid to a halt, except she gets more than she bargains in the sexy, tattooed bartender.

And neither can deny the burning attraction between them.

When his tainted past closes in on him, Riley’s forced to make the toughest decision ever to keep her safe. Then Saia’s hauled by a deadly adversary into his dark and treacherous world of Stygia—a place of old betrayals. Now Riley must face his past and accept his future in order to save the woman who belongs to him.

But danger comes in many forms and the one least expected might be the sin that seals their fates once and for all…

Shivering a little, Saia gratefully slipped into the warmth of the softly lit bar. The low, sultry sounds of blues drifted from a jukebox on the far end near the red brick wall. Two pools tables were adjacent to it. Dark wood made up the bar that ran almost the length of the back wall. Leather seats and wooden tables filled the rest of the space around a small, makeshift dance floor where several couples swayed.

Women crowded the bar at one end—probably because of the eye-candy that Niki mentioned. Snorting, Saia shrugged off her coat and handed it to Niki. Spying an empty table at the back, she nodded at it. “Grab that spot, I’ll go get our drinks.”

She turned for the bar and froze. All thoughts of having fun and forgetting about the horrible weekend ahead slid right out of her mind, her attention caught by the guy behind the counter.

He worked here?

As if there was a direct link between them, Riley looked up and stilled, then his green eyes narrowed. Her stomach whirled like leaves in the wind.

“Sai, where are the drinks?”

The sound of Niki’s voice yanked Saia back to where she was. She wasn’t even aware that she’d backed away and had dropped down beside her friend.

“So, you like the eye-candy, huh?” Niki teased when she saw where Saia was looking. “He’s the best one here. You want some fun, he’s perfect for that.”

Perfect? He’d already shown her exactly what he could do with his mouth, both verbally and physically. Heat flooded Saia’s face.

“Ahh, so that’s how it is. Make a move then, Sai”—Niki nudged her shoulder—“or one of those bar-tarts will wind up with him in her bed tonight.”

Darn, she couldn’t keep anything hidden from her sharp-eyed friend.

For some reason, the thought of him with another woman made her tummy hollow out. Unable to get her chaotic thoughts in order, she pushed to her feet. “I'm going to the restroom.”

Niki sprang up and grabbed her by the elbow, effectively blocking her escape. “Oh, no you don’t. Come on, Sai. Live a little. Soon enough, you’ll be shackled to a man of your mother's dream.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Then prove me mistaken. Hell, Sai, I love your family, but this is just so wrong, your mother choosing your husband.”

At Niki’s comments, Saia’s stomach churned. God, she hated how wussy she appeared. But she had to tell her friend the truth about Riley.

Author Bio:

I’ve been creating stories from the moment I could string two words together. No matter the tale, it always has romance woven through them. Yes, I'm a hopeless romantic.

When I’m not writing or plotting new books, I like to read, travel, painting, or troll flea markets where I usually buy things I might never actually use because they're so pretty.

After working in a few jobs all art related, a chosen career as a fashion designer, then an art teacher, I finally found my passion four years ago: writing. There really is no other job I’d rather do.

Oh, and I live in the beautiful country of South Africa.

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Re-Release Day Blitz: Heads & Tales by Karina Kantas

Title: Heads & Tales

Author: Karina Kantas

Genre: Horror, Comedy, Romance, Thriller, Science Fiction, Historical, Short Story

Re-Release Date: June 25, 2016

JOIN THE FACEBOOK RE-RELEASE PARTY TODAY(JUNE 25, 2016)

Summary:
28 flash and short fiction that will delight, fright and leave you questioning your sanity.

Virus

“Well, that's it. Now we wait again,” Maria announced.

Phil watched her sit at a cluttered desk to scribble yet more failure notes. His eyes did not linger for long though. He scanned the laboratory. It might be the last time he'd see it. Beds lined the walls of the spacious room, virtually hiding its sterile, white-tiled floor. “How long until we see results this time — if any?” he asked.

“Same as the others. Twelve hours.”

“That doesn't give us much time to administer a vaccine.”

“No. And — yes, before you say it, you're right — there's no guarantee we'll ever find an acceptable vaccine.”

On each bed lay a test subject. Even those that had succumbed remained, since the examination of their rotting bodies still offered the faint hope of a cure.

But Phil knew. The virus had won this war. There was no hope. Eight months of this. And nothing but 665. The committee was right.

Phil turned his face away from the rotting, deformed victims, and stared at his co-worker. It was time to tell her, although he knew how she'd react. Maria was obstinate — so certain she'd find a cure.

Phil walked to his colleague’s desk. Each step weighed heavily on him, like the weight they'd shouldered as a team these past few months. He rested his hand on her shoulder.

“Maria?” he whispered.

Her eyes shimmered. “Yes?”

Phil blinked and spoke. “The committee has decided if this last trial is unsuccessful they'll go with 665. They've already begun to manufacture it.”

“What? You're joking?”

“They say there's no more time to be choosy. It's 665 or total annihilation.”

“Choosy… Don't they realise what will happen? 665 has such awful side effects.”

“Sorry. Maybe choosy was the wrong word, and yes, they know the peril. I agree with them. What other choice do we have?”

“I'd rather die.”

Phil turned and looked at the bed beside him. Clear plastic sheeting did nothing to hide its occupant’s demonic deformities. IT was the only way to describe this once-person. Its new facial appearance removed any identification of what sex, race or age test subject 665 had once been.

“At least it's a life,” Phil assured.

“We'd be like a totally different species,” Maria said. “And, there may be other side effects.”

“We don't have time to find out. The countdown has begun. Half the population is infected. Six hundred and sixty-four test subjects died, 665 was the only survivor.”

“Yes, but with diabolical consequences.”

“Nevertheless, the committee has decided.”

Maria rubbed her eyes. “But what of our future? What about our children? They may not be born with mutations. Who'd be the freaks then?” She ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

“I can't give you the answers you seek, Maria. No one can.”

Maria sighed. “So we wait. And in eleven and a half hours we'll know our fate.”

Two heads simultaneously turned towards the large, white clock on the wall. The thick, black hands held a new responsibility now — to count time down for 666 — the number of the beast.

Author Bio:
Karina Kantas comes from the UK but has lived in Greece for most of her life. She is the author of eight books and another 30 publications. As well as writing she is also a VA, narrator and she designs book trailers Karina loves singing and riding her motorbike.

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