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Inspired and Committed Author Gets the Job Done ASCENDING , a new novella, is on pre-release on Amazon. I'm really excited about ...
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TODAY we think about romance once again, and the healing properties of love in the face of adversity or error. I gave my review 4 stars. ...
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Why are the Light and Shadow Chronicles unique? My immersive fantasy novels A Chronicle of Chaos and The Shield of Soren are part o...
Friday, September 28, 2012
Introducing Monique Morgan, author of Rise of the Infected
I'm happy to introduce Monique Morgan, many talented author of Rise of the Infected.
Releases October 31st
River Black lives in a world where only the strong survive.
The earth has changed to a brutal climate and the survivors will do anything to
live. The eastern continents unleash a biochemical weapon on their enemies, and
directly onto River’s world. She will have to leave her quiet existence in the
forest and venture to the slaver fortress and further beyond, into the deepest
part of the surviving cities. If she doesn’t die first, or rise infected…
Excerpt:
Aspen was the first to speak, all
of us still slightly in shock at what we had just witnessed.
“We have to clear out the house.
I don’t know if all of them left, or if some of them got in, but we have to
know for sure,” he said, the urgency in his voice clear.
“I’ll take upstairs,” I responded
immediately, wanting to get a familiar perch from above, and recalculate our
current situation.
The fire still burned in the pit
in the entryway, illuminating the three of us as I walked up the curved stairs.
I quickly lost sight of them, the wall turning smoothly into a hall. The
hallway was covered in shadows, the dying embers of fire pits casting light through
the open doors of the rooms.
“Hello,” I called out weakly.
I didn’t like the idea of going blindly
into each room, possibly ambushed at any moment. It would be better to draw
them out into the hall, and cut them down as they ran towards me.
I waited, my body tense and fluid
at the same time, ready to spring if needed. But nothing came. I spoke louder a
second time, my ears straining as my voice traveled down the hall. Once again
nothing came out of the rooms and I walked forward, entering each one and
searching every corner, my rifle always ready.
A few were bedrooms, which I
frowned upon. It was a bad omen to have bedrooms above ground. It was obvious
that the townspeople had become lazy. I entered one more room that was a study,
a desk crammed into the corner, covered in books. Even in the most stressful
situation, I found myself becoming excited at the plethora of reading material
that was before me. It was rare to see one
book, let alone dozens.
The last thing in the hallway was
the stairs leading to the final floor. Once again I walked the smooth curve of
the stairwell, the stone giving off a sense of protection, although it would do
nothing to help me if I was attacked by the infected.
It was dark down the long
hallway, only one room at the far end giving any light, the rest of the doors closed.
Once again I called out and waited, keeping my eyes on the farthest room. I was
greeted only by the sound of my own voice.
Taking a breath, I pushed open
the closest door, holding my gun out in front of me. I knew the moment I
stepped in the room that I was not alone, there was a presence in the room, a
presence in turmoil. I could almost hear the chaotic thoughts, trapped and
angry. I knew when I heard the low animalistic growl, that I had walked into
the room of one of the infected.
My shoes slipped on the floor as
I walked towards the sound, a trail of blood beneath me, as though someone had
dragged themselves to the door and shut it. I walked around the bed towards the
continued hissing, expecting the creature to come sprinting at me. But it remained
in the corner. I walked closer, and finally saw white gleaming eyes as it
stared at me, a hideous grin on its face.
It was a woman, or what was left
of a woman.
These rooms were bare compared to
the extravagant rooms below. I could only imagine the ones below ground. Logic
would say that they belonged to servants, possibly even slaves. It was clear
that even with the thick window covering the rooms would quickly get hot during
the extreme heat. It would be torturous to be forced to live up here. On a
beautiful day like this, they had all probably had their windows open, the
first to succumb to the plague that had been dropped upon us.
I almost tripped over the two
severed legs that were littered on the floor. It looked like someone had taken
an axe to them, and the brutality of the scene shocked me. Instead of dying,
the woman’s wounds had almost healed, the blood stopping its flow.
The growling increased as the
woman dragged herself by her arms towards me. Her mouth had started the rabid
chomping that seemed a telltale trait of the infected. Bloody fingers reached
for me, just as I lifted the rifle once again and placed it to the woman’s
temple, pulling the trigger with a quickly flick of my finger.
I took a closer look at the
carnage around me, the bloody legs and the limp body of the infected woman.
“Yup, looks like a Zombie to me.”
I wiped the blood from my boots
in the hallway, leaving a creepy trail of red footprints. There was one more
room before the open one at the end, and my hairs rose as I pushed open the
next door. I was greeted by silence, the room empty. Even the shutters were
closed, and from the dust on the furniture I could tell it had been some time
since anyone had been here.
I moved back out into the hall
and walked towards the last room, the light was not coming from a burning pit
but from an open window, the sun shining into the room. My trigger finger
tensed once again, concentrating on everything in front of me. The first thing
I saw was the bed, covered in blood. Another servant was there, axe marks
evident on her body.
But this one was clearly dead,
its head lying a few feet from the body.
“I doubt you will be getting up,”
I said, and that’s when I realized there was someone else in the room.
It was another woman, her hair
dark and her clothes fine. She was not some servant, but a mistress of the
house. She was young, not much older than I was, and she carried an axe that
dripped blood onto the floor as she stared at me.
Look for Rise of the
Infected
October 31st
2012
Monique Morgan enjoys a quiet moment |
To learn more about
the author visit moniquemorgan.com
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It looks wonderful, Kenna. Thanks for having me :)
ReplyDeleteIt was a pleasure, Monique. Good luck with "Rise of the Infected." It looks great and I'm happy to be a small part of the launch. Do stay in touch.
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