Category Archives: From Limelight

My Christmas Story

http://www.amazon.com/Safe-Haven-L-E-Fitzpatrick-ebook/dp/B00H0NPST8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1418939254&sr=8-1&keywords=safe+haven%2C+l+e+fitzpatrick

If you’ve read any of my posts before you might have heard about a little Christmas story I wrote. Well when I say Christmas story this isn’t exactly a merry jaunt through festivity, but it does have snow – and gun fire. Safe Haven is part of my Reacher series and I’m battling through book 3 at the moment, but it’s set in the summer and this cold wintery weather isn’t helping much with the setting. So Safe Haven is my go to read to beckon in Christmas as I wait for snow.

The book has had lots of downloads this month, it’s free and surging through the rankings. I’m really hoping to hit a top ten somewhere so if you can download the story I’d really appreciate it. And hey these people liked it:

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars A page turner, September 13, 2014
Verified Purchase(What’s this?)
This review is from: Safe Haven (Kindle Edition)
This is definitely a page turner with a riveting storyline, and it will keep you guessing about the purpose of it all. I had a lot of fun reading this one. I thought the writing style was easy to read but not simple or written with clichés like other books. Basically I really enjoyed this book. The purpose of fiction is to tell a story that causes the reader to enter another world and Safe Haven did that for me.
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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Great little short story, December 29, 2013
By
Scott A. Martin (Lawrenceville, Georgia USA) – See all my reviews
This review is from: Safe Haven (Kindle Edition)
This great little short story sets the stage for the rest of the Reacher stories. It clues us in to how and why The Running Game came to be. I thoroughly enjoyed this as well as The Running Game and highly recommend anything in this series from this author;
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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Excelent follow up!, January 22, 2014
Verified Purchase(What’s this?)
This review is from: Safe Haven (Kindle Edition)
I cannot wait for the second book, but this was a brilliant teaser/back story I am absolutely taken with these characters and cannot wait to find out more!
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Limelight Likes

How many times do you see author pages and promo posts and just ignore them? And nowLL think how many people must ignore your promo posts. Wouldn’t it be better for every indie if we shared a little and by share I mean promote other indie books, promotions and pages by clicking “share” or “like”? If every indie author liked or shared one post for every like or share they received our pages would really start to take off.

In a year I have managed to receive over 480+ likes on my personal Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/lefitzpatrickbooks

In a few months I have received over a 100 for Limelight’s Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/limelightliterature

So I have a mission for you and for me – match your likes. Over the next month I am going to like as many pages as I have collective likes on both my FB pages. That means I am going to set out and like nearly 600 indie pages (more if my likes go up). Who is with me?

Follow Limelight on Facebook to track my progress and post your own progress and your own pages for other indies to like. You can also post your pages to be liked in the comments section here too!

 


December on Limelight

I love Christmas. I love the food, the decorations, endlessly wrapping presents. For some this is a religious festival, for others it’s a time to just celebrate being with the people you love and, for me, this is the perfect opportunity to take a step back and think about those that have supported you along the way and show appreciation to them.

As an indie writer there are so many people from all corners of the world who have helped me produce my books and develop my writing. My beta readers, my proofreaders, my reviewers and all those lovely people who help me promote my work have made this year for me.

These people have made me want to change my approach in the industry and have been an inspiration behind this blog. I wanted to create something that helped other indies, just like people have helped me and I’ve only been operational for a few months, but it has been a great few months.

I am also celebrating a year of The Running Game being published and so what better time to concentrate on tips and ideas that made my book what it is.

All this month I will be posting tips and articles, from myself and other authors, especially for indie writers and readers to help you guys get your work out to the audience you deserve. Please, please, please feel free to comment on all posts, or email your own articles to me for posting (which will be linked to your own sites/books) and of course I will still be showcasing indie talent so if you have a Christmas release or promotion let me know.

Regardless of whether you love Christmas or not Limelight is the perfect place for all indie enthusiasts this month.

And to get in the spirit here is one of my favourite Christmas songs, take it away Frank:

 


Authors Needed

Advertising and promotion is so important for all indie authors but my God it’s also the biggest headache imaginable too. Any author will tell you getting your work to as many places a possible is a priority and that’s why I set up this blog which has been showcasing indie talent since August.

If you are an indie author and you need some more exposure then maybe I can help. All you need to do is send me a promotional piece, it can be an extract or an article or details of a promotion along with a link to where the book can be bought and I will put it up for you.

All work featured on the blog is promoted through my social networks and I’ve noticed that a lot of posts that go up get widely spread by authors following this blog.

Also on the first week of December I am going to be posting articles about indie writing, self-publishing and promotion from a variety of authors. If you would like to contribute to this then please contact me. Any article posted will also feature the author name, network links and a short bibliography.

So what are you waiting for?

(For more ideas please see the promotions page)


Electric Book Party

For the next few days I’m going to be over at the Electric Series Book Party, celebrating the release of Carly Compass’s debut novel. There are a whole host of … hosts being featured hourly between the 3rd and the 5th and you can join me on 4th at 5pm (USA time) 9pm (UK) time.

Hope to see you there:

https://www.facebook.com/events/724818377609706/


Harvest

The first ever book I published was a book called Dark Waters, this was a mammoth epic fantasy that eventually got split into three books. It feels like a life time has past since I published these stories and do you know what I really do miss these characters. So today I am going to introduce you to my debut novel Harvest (Book 1 of the Dark Waters Series).

“Line up the prisoners!” Hastings shouted.

Wey again gave Batty a warning look to comply. The Virgin Queen’s crew huddled together and were pushed into a line across the deck. The youngest was forced to sit by his dead mate and sobbed uncontrollably. Finn and Wey kneeled beside each other, their hands tied tightly behind their backs. Wey spotted Thorin waiting beneath the ship’s netting. Only his glowing eyes visible.

Hastings strode up the deck, his eyes were bloodshot and his nose had started to ooze red liquid again.

“We know you are harbouring criminals on this boat Captain!” He yelled. “If you tell us where they are I will let you and your crew live.” That was a lie and nobody believed it.

Batty thrust his head back and said steadily: “This is a cargo vessel, we are heading for Helena under the contract of the Westwick Brewery. Feel free to search for any stowaways but I assure you I can vouch for every one of my crew’s honesty and integrity. We are all law abiding, tax paying, sea folk Officer.”

Hastings began to laugh, “Search the ship!”

One of his officers remained, manoeuvring himself behind the captured crew. He was smiling insanely.

“I ask you again Captain.”

Wey spotted a figure on the navy ship. She was dressed in a uniform and appeared on deck for just a second, before disappearing below. Wey suppressed a smile. Finn had spotted her too and couldn’t believe the Officers seemed oblivious to her arrival.

“She’ll be safe for the minute,” Wey whispered.

“Captain!” Hastings screeched in a voice that sounded as though his vocal cords were shredding inside his throat.

“This is a cargo vessel, we are heading for Helena…”

A shot was fired. The young lad stopped sobbing as his body joined Mr James. Their blood mingled together, seeping into the deck like wood stain. Finn was sure the other men would cave now. He wanted them to speak up and save themselves. The responsibility had never been theirs and now they would die helping!

“Captain tell me where Mr Wey is!”

Wey’s ears pricked up. They were after him personally. He tried to stop his frown, tried to organise he thoughts. He stared at the navy ship, at the girl he had just handed over to them and he knew he had been betrayed.

“Balor,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

The barrel of a freshly loaded gun pressed against the back of his neck. He was about to speak, when his words were stolen from him.

“I’m Wey!” Finn shouted boldly.

They moved unnaturally fast, hauling Finn up and dragging him over to the main mast. Tying him to it, they slashed his shirt, and viciously flogged him before Wey could react. This was wrong, this was all wrong. Finn ignored the questions being yelled at him: Where are the others? Where is the girl? He ignored the pain and began his mantras.

“Batty,” Wey whispered desperately, “These are not real soldiers.”

Batty was in a catatonic state. He heard Wey’s words and he looked up at the soldiers ransacking his ship. He glanced over at his crew and knew that they were all going to be murdered. One girl had brought about their downfall. He smiled; there were no regrets.

Batty pulled himself up, eight of his crew, eight ordinary sailors, followed. They stared the armed soldiers in the face and, hands tied behind their backs, they attacked.

Wey dragged himself up and cut his hands loose from the cutlass of one of the fallen soldiers. He stabbed the officer flogging Finn, who collapsed to the floor, unable to stand. Wey unbound his hands and he fell free of the mast.

“Why did you do that you stupid bastard?” Wey yelled shaking him conscious.

“Get Adiah. Protect her, please, Wey,” Finn said pushing him away.

“Thorin!” Wey yelled, “Guard that boy with your life,” he said before leaping across to the navy ship.

The soldiers were untrained beasts descending on the sailors. They tore, bit, stabbed and ripped at the sailor’s bodies. The sailors had nothing to lose. They withstood everything and fought back with the weapons of the fallen. They could not win, but they could hold out and as the rain plummeted down on to the blood soaked ship they knew they had another fighting their cause.

The sea picked up quickly, separating the two boats. Uncoordinated soldiers charged at the gap between the ships, many being crushed under the rising waves. A wave hit the navy ship while the wind anchored its unmanned sails and it began to capsize under the storm. Wey stumbled across the deck, attacking the small force that confronted him. He cut through each of them, taking small wounds from each battle. With both ships unmanned they collided, the Virgin Queen began to take on water.

Wey hurried through the enemy ship. Soldiers tried to cling onto the boat as the waves crashed over them. Lightening struck the sky. Wey skidded below deck. He clambered through the mess below, wanting to call out and being concerned about drawing the wrong attention. There were so many places to hide. The ship struck another wave. Lightening flashed again and Wey could smell fire nearby. He hurried, being thrown into walls and barrels.

*

When the boat overturned she knew she was in trouble. Balor had told her she was to lay low on deck until the search was over. He said to watch the boats and wait until the soldiers started to return, then jump ship and wait for them to find her. It seemed impossible at the time and more so now. She hid from the soldiers, instead of blending in, unnoticed. Now she was lost. Memories swamped her, forcing her to stop and panic. She’d watched half her crew being murdered by him; the ogre, and she was powerless.

Someone was down in the brig with her!

*

Wey felt the plank of wood hit the back of his head. He stumbled but maintained his consciousness. Pulling himself up he quickly turned to catch the plank.

“If you keep hitting me I’m going to stop saving you,” he growled.

She dropped the wood, unsure of whether seeing Wey was a blessing or not.

“Where’s Finn?”

“Being a hero,” Wey answered distastefully. “You can swim right?”

She scowled.

 

This story is available to download from Amazon.


Family

Last promotion for Halloween and it’s another one of mine. Here’s an exclusive from my short story Family, which is part of the Reacher series. This book sits between The Running Game and Border Lines, but you can read it without worry about spoilers. So far in the series I haven’t written a lot about the world outside of London, but Family is a good taste of what’s to come.

If you like crazy cannibals then you will love this! Oh and it’s FREE!

John pulled off the motorway sharply. The landscape slowly opened up and a large square building awaited them. There were petrol pumps outside and an empty car park surrounding the structure. A spattering of white lights lit up the entrance to the building, but otherwise the place looked deserted.

“Let’s make this quick,” Charlie said. “I don’t want to hang around here any longer than we need to.”

They pulled up at the pumps. As John opened the door another light inside the service station came on. An old man sat in a small checkout booth watching them through the protection of a glass screen. Rachel could just about make out his cold beady eyes in the early morning light. His thick white beard hid his other features, making him ageless.

Another man came out of the main entrance. He was younger, a tall man with broad shoulders and a vague look about him ­­­­­­­­­­– clearly the muscle of the setup, with very little else going on behind the eyes. He carried an automatic rifle casually, as though just having it was enough to ward people away, and wore an armoured vest, but it was too small for him so he had to leave it open.

“They look nervous,” Charlie said. “I guess they’ve been having some trouble. I’ll go tell him we come in peace and everything should be fine.”

With difficulty he got out of the car. Charlie had been stabbed in the back, causing severe nerve damage to his spine and legs. He walked with a crutch and when people saw him approaching they assumed he was harmless. Nobody would have suspected that he had powers. And if he pronounced his limp all the more it just added to his disguise.

John’s focus intensified, concentrating on the men watching his brother. He was wound tight, ready to strike in a heartbeat if he needed to.

“What do you think will happen?” Rachel murmured.

“Charlie will convince them we’re not going to rob them and they’ll let us in.”

“Is it always this hostile?”

“Sometimes. Winter makes people nervous and irrational. Don’t worry we’ve got this covered.”

“Is it so important we go inside?”

“We need fuel and supplies,” John stated, still concentrating on his brother.

John and Charlie were both so casual. Was this what life outside of the city was like? Neither man seemed affected by the fear that Rachel was choking on. Something didn’t settle well with her and she couldn’t work out if she was just being paranoid. She thought back to the burnt out car, the clothes strewn over the road, and she shuddered.

“I’m going to listen,” she told John. Before he could object she was already out of the car.

Charlie could move things with his mind, but Rachel had her own talents. She focussed her energy and slipped casually out of the vehicle. She moved behind Charlie, quickly catching up with him. Even he didn’t notice she was there. You can’t see me, you can’t see me. The mantra repeated on a loop, making her invisible to the men around her.

The old man in the booth had stood up, his hands were concealed, likely holding a weapon just in case. Charlie made sure his hands were visible. He smiled – not arrogantly or confidently – just another man appreciating the difficult situation and respecting it. The old man matched the expression. Nobody even looked Rachel’s way.

“Stocks are low,” the old man said. “Things don’t come cheap.”

“I appreciate that Sir, times are hard. As I said we need supplies for the winter. We’ll pay whatever the asking price is. No haggling, we’ve got a long journey ahead, we just want to get going.”

The old man considered it. He cast his eye over at his guard and then nodded.

“This place had a lot of trouble?”

“Trouble?”

“The security,” Charlie said. “Couple of winters ago we were up this way, roads are looking a lot emptier now. Saw a burnt out car a mile out.”

“Times are hard as you say,” the old man explained. “Got to keep our wits about us.”

“Well you’ll get no trouble off us. All right if I tell my brother to fill up while I pick up supplies?”

The man nodded his head. The guard made no effort to move. He would watch John and make sure the fuel pumps were safe. Fuel was a commodity people couldn’t waste anymore. Charlie gestured to his brother that they were good to go and headed into the service station. Rachel followed a few inches behind.

The door to the building was heavy, reinforced with steel and able to be barricaded from the inside. There had been windows in the original building, but they had long since been boarded up, barred like the door. The electric ran off a turbine in the wasteland at the back of the building and the lights fizzed into life as Charlie entered, working off a motion sensor to conserve energy. Charlie waited until the door closed and turned to Rachel.

“What are you doing?” He wasn’t mad, if anything he was amused.

“Things don’t feel right,” she said. “Those guys out there…”

“They’re taking precautions. Look it’s a tense world out in the wild, you’ve just got to see it from their point of view. I mean we show up, with John who is the epitome of violence, they’re bound to be worried. But we’ll give them a fair price, no trouble and everything will run smoothly. Don’t worry about it. Hey, there’s a cafe on the left, go grab something to eat.”

“I thought we weren’t staying long,” she said.

Charlie put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “If there is trouble they’ll put up the barricade. We’ll be safe inside. This is a business Rach’, they need our custom as much as we need their supplies. They’ll take care of us.”

She stared at him, still unconvinced.

“We won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. Go get a coffee and relax.”

He hobbled to the right, towards a kiosk selling basic food and supplies. The old man from the front was already opening up the shop, lifting the grates over the secured shelves for Charlie.

A part of Rachel wanted to follow Charlie, but she didn’t. He was right, she needed to relax. Charlie and John lived their lives on the road, if they said there was nothing to worry about then she could ignore the unsettling churning in her stomach. This was all new to her, it made sense that she didn’t feel safe. A couple of minutes with a hot drink and full belly would clear her head.

She pushed open the door to the cafeteria and stopped in her tracks. The room was gloomy. The lighting sparse, part of the original design before the windows had been boarded up. There were booths along three walls, the fourth reserved for a self-serve buffet table, manned by an enormous woman slouching at her till counter, a cigarette poking from her chapped lips spilling ash onto her dirty apron.

There were others in the cafe; a group of three men talking loudly at the far corner of the room. They looked like experienced labourers, possibly farmers trying their hand at something new while the ground was too hard to work. At the far wall two other men huddled over a teapot, barely moving in the bleak light. She could see they were well dressed, possibly travelling from one city to another and stopping off for safety. Then near the door to the toilets a mother sat opposite her two young children, all eyes fixed on their untouched plates of toast.

As Rachel stepped inside the group of men stopped talking and the whole diner fell into a tense silence. She wanted to make herself invisible, but it would be too hard now. They were watching her closely, shaking their attention would take a lot of power and she wasn’t even sure she could do it now they knew she was there. Her powers were a type of deception and manipulation, if the truth was glaringly obvious it would be impossible to conceal. She swallowed her nerves and headed for the sanctuary of the buffet counter, after all she was just another diner seeking sanctuary for a few minutes.

Taking a battered plastic tray, she ran it along the buffet table. There were assorted pans of tinned foods, beans, canned meats and corn. The contents were stewed to thick pastes of salt and preservatives, but it was the most appetising sight Rachel had seen in as long as she could remember. Her stomach growled and before she could stop herself she had a full steaming plate. She filled a cup of thick coffee from a dirty jug and scoped several heaped spoonfuls of sugar into it.

Two worn hands rested against the table beside her. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

The man leaning over her had been cajoled into breaking away from his pack. He was probably not thirty yet but his skin was already thick and leathery, his hair thinning at the front and greying on the sides. He was wearing a thermal jumper over a pair of filthy jeans and smelt of smoke and oil. He grinned at her, exposing two rows of decaying broken teeth.

“By the looks of it I’m attracting unwanted attention,” she replied, moving away.

He reached out to touch her and stop her from moving. She lashed around as his fingers brushed her arm. Don’t! The words shrieked in her mind. It was enough. He backed away, a glint of fear and confusion in his eye. He didn’t understand what had happened but he was scared. The other men jeered at him, but he wouldn’t go after her again.

Rachel ignored them all and took her tray to the fat woman at the counter. She was cackling along with the other men, spreading ash everywhere. Her grotesque fingers punched numbers into the till and she coughed out the price of the food. Rachel wasn’t sure if it was an expensive meal or not. She handed over the cash without thinking about it and winced as the fat woman stuffed it between her sweaty breasts.

“Enjoy,” she snorted, still cackling maniacally.

There were plenty of tables to sit at. Rachel chose one far away from everyone. She sat so she could keep an eye on the room and watch the door. The group of men laughed again, the bellowing sound making the room feel claustrophobic. When Rachel looked she saw they were all armed. If they were supposed to be the protection they were all done for.

Rachel put her first spoonful of food in her mouth, savouring the odd taste and texture. Her eyes drifted around the other customers. The two men, isolated by themselves had barely moved since she arrived. Rachel noticed their hands were squeezed together tightly. It was bold to be so open in public. The state had outlawed homosexuality, along with religion, women’s liberties and free speech. Rachel could appreciate not wanting to hide your true self, but sometimes that was the difference between life and death. One of the men looked at her. His face was bruised and swelling fast. His wide eyes seemed to scream at her in panic. It was then she noticed his partner – his lover – and the pallid lifelessness of his skin. Her stomach lurched.

The fat woman slowly lifted herself to her swollen feet and waded across the dining room. She leaned over to the group of men and gestured to the rusted clock on the stained wall. Whatever she meant the men groaned and waved her way, but it was clear they respected her – or at the very least were intimidated by her. As she shuffled away, heading towards the toilet, Rachel felt a hunger rise within the men.

 

Find out what happens and download the book for FREE


Dark Waters

A long, long time ago I wrote an epic fantasy called Dark Waters. It’s a sort of horror, fantasy, steampunk novel with a twisted sense of humour. There are a lot of action scenes, lots of battles and – oh yeah – did I mention it’s basically a story about pirates vs zombies. Well for this week only I’m lowering the price from $4.99 to $0.99 – but I had you at pirates vs zombies right?

Here’s a little snippet where Finn, one of the leading characters, is doing his best to cure the zombie plague, but in a Dr Frankenstein sort of way:

A Qatarian girl was strapped to the worktop. Finn sat on one of the free benches, watching Rhoma work without inspiration. She sang sweetly as she adjusted the machinery and shook her new compound every few minutes. This would be the eighth experiment in four days, but the failure had not dampened her spirits like it had Finn’s. She was still convinced it was only a matter of time before she got her chemicals right.

Rhoma had spent the past fifteen years learning the medicines of her ancestors. She understood the poppies in their raw form, which was more than Qataria ever managed. The history of her people and the science explained in the scribbled manuals Eve had left should have been enough to find answers neither side had been able to achieve before. She poured the new compound into the machine filter and tried to encourage Finn into something near enthusiasm.

“This is it young Finnian, I can feel it in my bones.”

“You said that about the last one,” Finn grumbled.

She pinched his cheek hard, a fixed grin forming on her face. “If you keep with that attitude of yours, young man, I’m going to slice you a new smile. Now are you going to be a good boy?”

“Get on with it,” he replied. “I can’t contain my excitement.”

She let him go and danced over to the machine. Finn moved to the incinerator connected to the left of the girl. That had been his position each time. After so many failed experiments he had become an expert in administering the flames.

“Check her eyes,” Rhoma told him.

He pulled the eyelids back revealing a thick coating of red across the balls, just like the others.

“Pretty girl,” Rhoma remarked.

“Don’t.”

“I was just saying.” Rolling her eyes, Rhoma started the machine. “Administering the cure.” The machine began to fizz and hiss as the chemical was forced into the young girl’s body.

Stepping away from the machine Rhoma put her arm around Finn. “It will work lad, come on cheer up.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then it will work next time. I know it’s not ideal, but we could find answers here Finn. You could go home with the cure in your hands.”

The machine hissed and then stopped. Patting his back she pushed him forward. “Check her eyes?”

Nervously he lifted the girl’s lids and frowned. “They look, well not as red.” Something near excitement began rising in his gut. “It’s definitely fading.”

“Let’s wake her up.”

The machine began its cat-like hissing again as the only successful compound they had made was pumped into the girl. Finn checked the restraints were tight, then backed away to wait for the machine to stop.

Silence filled the laboratory. Rhoma fidgeted, unable to contain her excitement. Finn swallowed the growing lump of nervousness clogged in his throat.

“Did it work?” He squeaked.

“Check her eyes.”

“You check her eyes.”

Rhoma wiggled her fingers, “These are cursed. You try.” She nudged him forward.

His hands were shaking. He reached out for the girl. Taking a deep breath he tried to control his trembling hands. Rhoma urged him forward again. From a distance of a foot he examined the girl. Her breathing was still steady and deep. She seemed to still be asleep.

“Did you use the right mixture to wake her up?”

“Of course I did. Are her eyes clear?”

Steadying himself, he reached forward, brushing his hand across her forehead as he pulled back her lids for a second time. The balls were once again blushed crimson. Finn’s shook his head. He made to move his hand, but the girl sunk her jaws into him. Her teeth clamped into his flesh, her body thrusting against the restraints. She writhed manically, the bonds slicing into her skin. Finn yelled, desperately trying to get free. He slammed her skull against the worktop. Again and again. Blood pooled onto the floor, his and hers, as her skull shattered and she sunk deeper into his flesh.

Rhoma started the incinerator. Liquid fire rushed into the girl. She released Finn in a scream as her veins ignited. Her limbs turned black. She kicked and flayed, spraying her ash body into the air until there was nothing left of her.

 

Buy the book now from Amazon at the limited discount price


Terror Train

In the UK we don’t really celebrate Halloween like they do in the US but we still like our scares. So all this week I am showcasing a great collaboration of stories to chill your bones and give you nightmares. There will be something new everyday to get you in the mood for a frightening Friday. And also we’ve revamped (get it!) the blog a bit too. Let us know what you think in the comments below and please feel free to share your scary stories.

Now allow me to introduce the spine-tingling, hell-raising, not-being-able-to-go-to-sleep-in-the-dark-ing… Train Terror:

 

 

 

The Terror Train rides, from city to city, from village to village, through states, across rivers and mountains. If only it could tell its tales of grisly murder, of demonic pacts, black holes into different dimensions and portals to other realms where the ghosts of train robbers hunt in perpetuity for that elusive bullion filled carriage that cost them their immortal souls. Behold the terrors the train has witnessed, see firsthand the horrors it has lived through and when you get on board, pray, pray you’ve entered the right one, on the right track, the one that does not lead to oblivion…

Terror Train contains stories by new and established authors, with a guest story by William F. Nolan.

All aboard!

Download it now! http://www.amazon.com/Terror-Train-Mathias-Jansson-ebook/dp/B00KYWRWS2/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413836480&sr=1-2&keywords=terror+train+in+books


Cover Poll Results – The Unlucky Man

Earlier this week I asked you if you would judge a book by it’s cover – or more pertinently if you would buy a copy of H T G Hedges The Unlucky Man based on it’s cover. I’ve bought books on the strength of their cover and been really disappointed by the story, and I’ve also read amazing books with terrible covers so is it any surprise that 59% of you were inclined to read the blurb first?

And given you were all inclined to read the blurb first you can check out all of the details of The Unlucky Man on Amazon now and who knows maybe that might be enough to tempt you to buy the story. And just so you know this is one of those few occasions I can say for certain that the book is freaking awesome!

But there was more to just the poll than voting. We had a competition too. One of you lucky people has one a copy of The Unlucky Man and that person is…. drum roll please….. bit more of a drum roll…..

Justaskingwhy!

If the winner could contact me with her preferred choice of ebook I shall pass this on to H T G Hedges and get the book sent across to you straightaway.

This poll was great fun and if you would like to put your own book up for a cover poll, or even a blurb poll we can do the same for you. My thanks to H T G Hedges for being the guinea pig and letting us scrutinise his cover.

Tomorrow we are back with posts from other indies so stay tuned and don’t forget that authors can submit their work to me for free promotion and readers keep following for competitions, freebies and new releases.