The other night I watched The Walking Dead with my twelve-year-old son, at his request. Now we’ve watched Supernatural together for years and he’s into the crime shows as well. I think I was a bit naïve on the graphic nature of the show because after about ten minutes, I made the decision that this was not the show for him to be watching.
My son was very disappointed when I opted to change the channel and I was reminded of my innate curiosity as a young teen. The Night Stalker on television was always a good fix and then the string of thrillers and slasher flicks. I continued to enjoy twisted horror movies for most of my young adult life as well as books – both Stephen King and Dean Koontz really fed my morbid curiosity.
As I sat watching The Walking Dead, I realized I was right around the same age as my son when Halloween came out. And he’s got the same imagination, curiosity, and love for the twinge of fear that I do – that adrenaline rush you get when peeking at the screen over the blankets. I’m secretly thrilled that he has the same love for action and scary themes I do, thus I was beyond thrilled when he came to me last summer with a fantastic idea for a young adult series.
We started writing Don’t Fear The Reaper, the first book in The Death Chronicles series – which is due to be released this summer. He’s been very patient while I’ve finished Crystal Illusions and prepped for this blog tour, so today, I figured I’d not only let your readers catch a quick glimpse at the teaser for Crystal Illusions, which is out now, but I’d also give them a special preview of our YA Thriller - Don’t Fear The Reaper – Book One of The Death Chronicles.
Assistant D.A. Carolyn Hastings has an uncanny knack for putting away criminals. With one of the best prosecution records in recent history, her future as Manhattan’s next District Attorney looks certain. But her sixth sense for winning cases threatens to work against her when she starts seeing a string of murders through the eyes of the killer.
With suspects piling up as fast as bodies, and the motives of those closest to her questionable, Carolyn doesn’t know who to trust. When the FBI assigns Special Agent Steve Williams to the case, Carolyn discloses her deepest fear - that the man she loves may be the one responsible for the city’s latest crime spree.
The only thing Steve knows for sure is Carolyn has an inexplicable psychic connection with the killer, and all the victims have one thing in common…a striking resemblance to Carolyn Hastings.
And he knows it’s only a matter of time before this psychopath knocks on her door.
Available now on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Crystal-Illusions-Steve-Williams-ebook/dp/B007JBWCIQ/
Excerpt from Don’t Fear The Reaper – Book One of The Death Chronicles – Coming this summer:
Mr. Sanchez was in the middle of reaming out Clyde for not having his homework for the hundredth time this year and mid-yell, his red face turned purple and he clutched his chest. When Mr. Sanchez fell to his knees, the sight of the black cloaked figure behind him, nearly gave me a heart attack. My chest burned with the sudden rush of adrenaline and my throat tingled around the scream that begged to erupt, but I clamped my lips closed.
The silver gaze peered out of the hooded darkness, staring directly at me, like he knew I could see him. His bony hand reached out and came to rest on Mr. Sanchez’s head. The rotund teacher’s grey eyes rolled back and his breath wheezed from his half-open mouth.
“Call nine-one-one!” The cry broke my paralysis and I bolted to the front of the room, trying to recall the CPR instructions I had in health class at the beginning of the year. Three chest compressions then pause, three more before blowing in the victim’s mouth. The silent instructions replayed in my head and I went into action.
It wasn’t until the E.M.T.s wheeled the cold dead body of Mr. Sanchez out of the room that Julia took my hand for support.
“Nick, you tried,” Julia said.
I looked into her golden brown eyes and that’s when I knew it wasn’t a dream. Her warm hand, her soft, teary voice, cracked through my defenses and I started to shake. “I couldn’t stop him from taking Mr. Sanchez.”
I opened my mouth to speak but before the words could tumble out, I snapped my lips closed. She was already looking at me like I had a few screws loose and this would only topple that look into the realm of disbelief. I didn’t want her to think I was any crazier than she already did. I turned away, wiping my misting eyes on my sleeve.
“Stop who?” she repeated taking my arm and swinging me toward her.
“Death, who do you think?” I snapped, my tone harsher than I wanted, harsher than I meant to be and she recoiled. “I couldn’t stop death,” I said, softening my tone and taking a deep breath to cool my nerves. “I couldn’t stop Mr. Sanchez from dying.”
Before she could speak, the PA system whined into action. “Dylan Nicholas Ramsay, please come to the office.”
Aw, crap. What does Principal Murdock want now? I hung my head, grinding my teeth together for a moment as anger wiped away any trace of despair. “I gotta go,” I said to Julia and stepped out of her grip, trudging toward the office wondering just what Principal Murdock was going to lay on me this time. Was he going to throw that sappy sad expression at me again, the one that always made me feel like a lost reject? The look that made me feel like shit.
Mr. Murdock offered a tight smile when I entered the office. “Nick, how are you holding up?”
Jeesh, how the hell do you think I’m holding up? I just saw my teacher die. “I’m fine sir.”
“I think you should talk with Mrs. Lambert for a spell,” Mr. Murdock said and delivered the look I expected.
“I said I’m okay.”
Mr. Murdock raised one of his wooly-mammoth eyebrows. “I understand you were yelling the entire time you were trying to revive Mr. Sanchez.”
Shock slammed into my chest, drying my mouth and shooting tingling waves over my skin. “Wh-what?”
“A few of the other students said you were yelling at someone or something while you were doing CPR.”
“I, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I knew I was cussing the hell out of the reaper, but I didn’t realize I was swearing out loud.
“I think you should talk with Mrs. Lambert for a while.”