The Night House Cover Reveal! #newrelease #perorder #TheNightHouse
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
It's finally here!
Sort of.
This is the first book I ever wrote start to finish.
And it was awful!
What? Not the sale's pitch you expected?
I'm being brutally honest. The first version of this story stunk--full of telling phrases and cliches. I had to put it on the back burner, let it gather proverbial dust and move on to publish ten books before I could revisit this manuscript. When I finally did, the experience was heart-wrenching. None of the words in the original manuscript were salvageable.
NONE!
But thankfully, the story was. I rewrote the whole book (obviously) from scratch, because this story wouldn't leave me alone. Now, I finally have the chance to share it with you using words that will do it justice.
So with out further build-up...I present to you:
Book Specs:
Excerpt:
The Tarka held perfectly still, gray gaze flashing, white-blond hair shining under the setting sun. He looked like a warrior angel sent to Earth to smite the pest-like humans.
It's finally here!
Sort of.
This is the first book I ever wrote start to finish.
And it was awful!
What? Not the sale's pitch you expected?
I'm being brutally honest. The first version of this story stunk--full of telling phrases and cliches. I had to put it on the back burner, let it gather proverbial dust and move on to publish ten books before I could revisit this manuscript. When I finally did, the experience was heart-wrenching. None of the words in the original manuscript were salvageable.
NONE!
But thankfully, the story was. I rewrote the whole book (obviously) from scratch, because this story wouldn't leave me alone. Now, I finally have the chance to share it with you using words that will do it justice.
So with out further build-up...I present to you:
Book Specs:
Title: The Night House
Series Name: n/a (standalone)
Publisher: JCM Publications
Editor: Lara Parker
Cover Artist: Jacqueline Sweet
SubGenre(s): Post-apocalyptic dystopian fantasy
Rating: Spicy (PG13)
Page Count: 290
Word Count: 64403
Digital Price: $3.99 USD
Digital ISBN: 978-1-7752251-7-1
Print ISBN: 978-1-7752251-6-4
COPYRIGHT © 2018 by J. C. McKenzie
What would you pay for your freedom?
Caught by a powerful lord from the alternate realm of Arkavia, Taya’s
offered the chance to avenge the dead, save her home world, and win her
freedom.
Her days of stealing supplies and surviving among the remnants of Earth
are over, but can she afford the price of Lord Thane’s deal?
Pre-order Now:
Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/B07NKSTLKF
The Tarka held perfectly still, gray gaze flashing, white-blond hair shining under the setting sun. He looked like a warrior angel sent to Earth to smite the pest-like humans.
She clutched her
staff and brought it up with numb fingers.
He raised a dark
eyebrow. “You plan to fight me with a stick?”
“I can hand it over
and tell you what to do with it, if you promise to follow directions.” She
moved the stick slowly. Not fast enough to give away her skill, but enough to
warm her wrists and get blood flowing back into her limbs.
“I’ll take option
number one, thank you,” he said.
“Fine with me. I’d
prefer anything to becoming your next sacrifice.” They’d never confirmed the
Arkavians were responsible for the bloody sacrifice they’d stumbled on, but no
crazy magical beasts had roamed the forest since the portal opened, so they
made an assumption. She glanced behind her at the trees and George’s exposed
foot. What the hell had the Tarka done to him?
“He’s incapacitated.
You won’t find any help from him.”
Taya snarled while
her mind raced. The man hadn’t used any magic yet. Maybe he didn’t have any.
Maybe only some of the blondes had power. Could she outrun him? She wasn’t
fast, but he was bulky with muscle, and wore lightweight armour and a heavy
cloak to stave off the damp cold.
Where would she run
to? She couldn’t lead him to the others, and she couldn’t survive long in the
woods without supplies.
The man cocked his
head, studying her and probably reading every thought screaming through her
head. “Sacrifice? Exactly what kind of fantasies have your kind concocted about
us?”
“I would hardly call
them fantasies.”
“What would you call
them, then?”
“Nightmares.” Duh.
He nodded. “Is this
where you tell me my evil ways are done?”
“I’m not sure. Is
this where you make some grand speech about ridding the world of my kind or do
you plan to preach about the superiority of your race and how you deserve to
leach off our planet?”
“I’m waiting for you
to finish warming up so we can get on with it.”
She fumbled and almost dropped the staff.
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