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Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Monday, November 3, 2014

Dark Curse (Deamhan Chronicles #2) by Isaiyan Morrison

Cover Artist: John Cosentino

Description: 

The Deamhan world is in disarray. Freed from Limbo, Lucius, the once feared and Ancient Lugat, goes on a killing spree to wipe out any remaining traitors in the city of Minneapolis. 

Meanwhile The Brotherhood's return along with the growing population of vampires riles up the remaining Deamhan who choose to stay behind rather than abandon the city. The body count continues to pile up forcing both humans and Deamhan to pick a side. 

Either allow Lucius to free the Pure Ones, the first living Deamhan from Limbo, or take him out and cripple their already fragile presence in the city.

GUEST POST

There are many paranormal novels out there that readers find themselves lost and confused. Some don't like to venture away from their favorite author. They cringe or are doubtful about reading a novel from a new author. So how can an author, who loves to write in the paranormal market, stand out from among the rest? 

It's not an easy question nor is it an easy answer. So I'll just briefly mention one thing that has helped me. Originality. 

"How can you be original when every idea has been done before?" Yes, I'm sure you've heard this argument at least once (for me, several times.) The vampire market, in its current stage, is oversaturated. Most of these books fall under the umbrella of Paranormal while others (if you get lucky after searching for hours on Amazon) have no romance at all. Personally, I love a good vampire novel like any vampire fan. I believe the answer boils down to the author and how far they're willing to go to write something new. 

My novel, Deamhan, focuses on psychic vampires. I like to refer to them as "cousins" to vampires. They are different from the normal sanguine (blood) vampires most readers have been exposed to. When the idea came to me, I already knew that I wanted to write something different from what I read and at the same time, try to stay true to the genre. Since there are a few novels which deal with psychic vampires, the idea itself is still somewhat fairly new. There are different routes, different ideas that can be created from the subject itself. 

I started researching and what I found amazed me. I gathered as much information as I could and I had to chose which ones I thought fit into the story. There were so many so I chose eight different types and later, narrowed it down to just four. This took roughly 10 years (I did drag my feet for a few of those years) but I'm proud to say that I've finally accomplished what I wanted to do from the beginning. The result is a novel that so far, my readers have enjoyed. The feedback revolves around how original the Deamhan world is. I've written a creative novel, different from any other vampire novel, with the focus on psychic vampires. 

Be true to yourself and your idea. I know that I enjoy horror novels. I love vampires, werewolves, ghosts, paranormal- stories with dark plots, twisted plots and endings. Books don't have to make me “jump from my seat.” I like vampires who don't sparkle (but kudos to those who do.) 

If you want to write that paranormal romance novel where a vampire falls in love with a teenager girl, so be it. However, I test you, dear author, to step out from the comfort of your bubble and to explore different ideas and possibilities. I test you, dear reader, to step out from what you're normally used to reading, and indulge in something new. 

EXCERPT



Anastasia's eyes meandered over them. They were young, no older than ten years max. When she attempted to scour their minds, a barrier blocked her. The female Ramanga rushed at Anastasia in Deamhan speed but she quickly moved out of the way, grabbing the back of her shirt and tossing her several feet in the air and onto the roof of a parked car. The Metusba catapulted himself at Remy but he jumped several feet into the air, avoiding his attack.

Anastasia rushed at the Metusba and she sank her teeth into the base of his neck, ripping at his flesh. He screamed, pushed her away, and fell to the pavement on his knees.

From the roof of the car, the Ramanga flew at Remy with fists raised and her mouth opened, revealing her fangs.

“I've never hit a pretty woman before.” Remy smiled.

She swung and he ducked, feeling the brisk wind travel over his head. Her punches continued nonstop but with each punch Remy evaded, the faster the punches came. He finally found an opening and his fist connected with her stomach. The Ramanga's feet wavered but she immediately found her footing and she swerved to the left, avoiding Remy's rising left punch. She raised her knee, striking Remy's in the chin and he fell back on the pavement.

She quickly maneuvered herself on top of him, striking him over and over again with her fists. Remy's head jerked from right to left, feeling his cheeks burn with each hit until Anastasia wrapped her arm around his attacker's neck and threw her off of him.

She helped Remy to his feet and they ran off in Deamhan speed with the two Deamhan following them. Their stride took them under a freeway, splashing through knee high water, and they turned sharply left. They passed through stop and go traffic, side streets, sidewalks, and eventually near the banks of the Mississippi River.

They took the river south, leaving the city, and entered a desolate area filled with rotting cornstalks and farmhouses. They stopped in the quiet area, being only a few miles from Blind Bluff Manor. They turned around but the two Deamhan were nowhere in sight.

“That wasn't hard.” Remy scanned the area across the river. He looked to the left at the tall dirt and rock infested embankment. “I think we lost them.”

Anastasia wasn't so sure. She looked up just in time to see the female jumping down at them. She tackled Anastasia and they both fell into the wild currents of the river.

Anastasia felt the coolness of the water streaming over her face and into her ears. It was an awkward position, knowing that neither of them would drown because Deamhan didn’t breathe. She pushed the female back and she jumped out of the water, just in time to see the male, also in midair, and his right leg connect with the side of her face.

She landed on the sandy shore, swallowing a handful of sand. She turned over to see the female towering over her with a raised stake. For a second Anastasia’s eyes filled with uncertainty. Stakes were meaningless, unless the female aimed for her heart. However, if the female's goal was to incapacitate her, she would strike elsewhere, leaving Anastasia alive for them to toy with.

Remy rushed toward the female but she immediately turned, burrowing the stake into his left shoulder. He stumbled back and the female grabbed the stake, dislodging it, and struck again, hitting just beneath his heart.

Anastasia found her chance to make her move. Brandishing her teeth, she bit down into the female's neck and she pulled back, ripping flesh from bone. Blood gushed from her wound and she fell to the sand. Again, Remy and Anastasia took off down the banks of the Mississippi River. The river curved and winded around, bringing them to another remote spot. This time a freeway ran on both sides of the river with a bridge slightly above them. Anastasia stopped, noticing that stars no longer dotted the sky. In the darkened horizon appeared a tint of red, signaling sunrise. She had to finish this now and get to Blind Bluff Manor. They climbed the embankment and approached the freeway. They ran through the traffic, dodging semi-trucks, cars, and other passing vehicles until they made it to the other side.

Remy held his chest and he bent over. “Good thing these Deamhan can't aim to save their life.” He coughed.

Anastasia examined his wound. “You'll heal.”

They heard the swift steps of the two Deamhan approach them. Again the male launched himself at them but Anastasia tossed him aside. He slammed into a nearby abandoned granary and Anastasia looked from the corner of her eye, seeing the female raise her stake, aiming for Remy's back.

Anastasia quickly moved and she caught the female by her wrist before the stake made its impact. With her other hand she plunged her fist through the female's chest, reaching her heart. The female's eyes widened and she snarled before Anastasia ripped her heart from her chest. The Ramanga dropped to the ground and her body slowly began to dissolve into a puddle of blood, dust, and bone fragments.

Anastasia turned her attention to their male attacker, watching him limp toward them. Dark blood poured from his mouth and a long piece of wood protruded from his stomach. She walked calmly over to him. His heavy eyes wavered. “You failed.” She plunged the stake into his heart and nonchalantly she returned back to Remy, uninterested in watching the Deamhan's body wither away.

In the distance she heard a male’s voice coming from a small house on a hill. The front door opened and she saw the outline of a farmer gripping a shotgun in hand.

“Let's get going. We don't have much time.” She wrapped Remy's arm around her shoulder. She took one final look at the remains of their two attackers before sprinting in Deamhan speed for Blind Bluff Manor.


About the author:
Isaiyan Morrison was born and raised in Minnesota. She moved to San Diego, California while in the Navy. She now resides in Texas with her two cats, a pit bull dog, and two guinea pigs. Dark Curse is the second book in the Deamhan Chronicles.


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