ROPHECIES ARE A GIRL’S WORST NIGHTMARE. I definitely angered a god in a past life. I was minding my business and enjoying my burning chemistry with Nox, my demon warden, and then bam! I’m getting dragged to literal Hell under the orders of Lilith, Queen of Hell… and Nox’s mother. It turns out there’s a lovely prophecy that says I am the Harbinger, the Catalyst for the Apocalypse that will burn down Hell and Earth. And Lilith wants to kill me to prevent it. Cornered, Nox and I bargain with Lilith, and she agrees to let me live… as long as I keep my dirty Nephilim fingers away from Nox. Naturally, Nox and I find as many loopholes as possible for our bargain, but our relief is short-lived. New enemies pop around like daisies, and old ones come back even from the dead. Light and darkness lay their claim on us, determined to render our connection to ash. Are we strong enough to subvert the prophecy before Heaven and Hell cleave us apart? I don’t know, but I sure as Hell will fight with everything I’ve got, even if I burn. I’ve always loved playing with fire, anyway.
The second installment of The Cursed and The Fallen series.
Selene Kallan is a fantasy author who daydreams about her imaginary worlds most of the time. Her obsession with vampires, and all things supernatural, has made her an avid reader. She loves writing, discovering new metal bands, and watching superhero movies. She is also feeling a little crazy while writing about herself in third person, but apparently, this is the way to go.
Title: Glory Bishop Author: Deborah L. King Genre: Women’s Fiction
“Deborah King has written a compelling, thought-provoking novel that engages readers and made me wish the story would never end.” -Chicago Writer’s Association Windy City Reviews
Glory Bishop lives her life in pieces. At work and with her friends, she reads novels, speaks her mind, and enjoys slow dances and stolen kisses with her boyfriend, JT. But at home, Glory follows strict rules and second-guesses every step. Though she dreams of going to college and living like a normal teenage girl, her abusive mother has other ideas.
When JT leaves to join the navy, Glory is left alone and heartsick. The preacher’s son, Malcolm Porter, begins to shower her with lavish gifts, and her mother pushes Glory to accept his advances. Glory is torn between waiting for true love with JT or giving in to the overzealous Malcolm.
When a stranger attacks Glory on the street, Malcolm steps in to rescue her, and her interest in him deepens. But the closer she gets to him, the more controlling he becomes. Glory must eventually decide wh
Dusk was Glory’s second-favorite time of day, and in late October, it came early. At five o’clock, she watched and waited for the first visible stars, those bright enough to shine through all the lights of Seventy-Fifth Street. Thanks to the time change, it would be dark soon. As the bus passed the brightly lit convenience store, Glory pulled the buzzer then got off two stops early. Her only Halloween indulgence would be an Affy Tapple taffy apple, a treat her daddy had taught her to love.
In a couple of days, the unseasonably warm weather would have the streets full of costumed kids celebrating the devil’s holiday, begging for candy. Glory had only trick-or-treated once when she was five and her father had been home for Halloween. She’d been terrified of demons, but he’d assured her that no devil could get through him, and she’d ended the night with an overflowing bag of candy. The day her dad went back on the road, her mother threw out all the candy Glory had left and whipped the demons of gluttony out of her for crying.
The few offices near her building were closing, and evening traffic was picking up. She would have just enough time to drop off her backpack and maybe change her blouse before Malcolm picked her up at six. He was, no doubt, parked nearby, waiting for her. The thought made her smile and pick up her pace. With her sweater tied around her waist and her backpack over one shoulder, Glory enjoyed her treat and watched the stars come out on her walk home.
The entry to her building was almost in sight when she tripped. She tried to regain her balance when she hit the wall and felt her backpack slip from her shoulder. No! With her face and shoulder scraping the wall and a calloused hand covering her mouth, Glory felt herself being pulled into darkness.
Please, no! Struggling to escape, she realized she was in the gangway half a block from her building, a place she’d played hide-and-seek as a child. Oh, God! No! Clawing at the hand pulling her over debris and deeper into the shadows, she sank her fingernails into gritty skin. The monster growled and loosened his grip. Glory managed to scream before the hand closed around her throat, slamming her head against the brick wall, cutting off her air, silencing her scream. She thought she heard someone call her name, but all sound was drowned out by the sudden screeching of tires and the crunch of cars colliding on the street.
Deborah King has been a writer and storyteller her whole life. She published her first short story when she was seven years old. When she’s not writing, Deborah enjoys cartoons, cooking, photography, and Star Trek. Born and raised in Chicago, Deborah has managed to achieve all of her childhood dreams and still lives in the area with her husband and two youngest children. According to her daughter, she has “literally aced her life!”
Carter Roy, the man that attracts all the ladies, but never gets them. He’s sexy and charming, but hasn’t found the woman that can keep his attention.
Abby I just moved to this town six months ago, but I’m already loving it! Granted, I get lost a lot and I tend to stick out like a sore thumb. And then there’s the deputy-sheriff. He’s hot, but fighting this attraction every step of the way. I just have to find a way to make him see me through my six cats, crazy outfits, and my propensity to get into car accidents.
“Who is she?” Jack asked, bringing me out of my inner-musings.
“Who?”
“The woman you’re going all googly-eyed over.”
I waved him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not googly-eyed over anyone.”
“Right, you just got this far off look in your eyes that I only see when you’re dating someone new.”
“Well, then you’re wrong, because I’m not dating anyone.”
“You don’t have to be to appear that way. So, it’s someone you’ve met, but you’re not with,” he nodded to himself as he started walking around the room. “And it can’t be someone you’ve already dated, so that knocks out half the town.”
I rolled my eyes at him. He placed his hand against his chin, scratching at his jaw as he thought.
“And it can’t be someone from out of town, at least, not that far out of town, because you hardly ever leave town.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“You were just at the hospital. It’s possible you met someone there.”
I held my breath, wondering if he would guess who it was.
“But you’re not the type to fall for a damsel in distress. You’ve always liked women that could watch after themselves. Like Anna,” he grinned.
He would definitely never guess Abby then. She was the opposite of Anna in every way.
“So, it’s got to be someone new to the area, someone that you’re interested in, but since you haven’t actually asked her out, there has to be something holding you back.”
He stopped his pacing, snapping his fingers at me. “That new chick.” He snapped his fingers as he tried to come up with a name. “Abigail. Yes, that woman you hugged in the middle of the street. That’s who it is, isn’t it?”
Crap, I was so screwed. “Why would you think it’s her?”
“Oh, come on! You were hugging a woman!”
“Yeah, because she was upset.”
“And you don’t like to comfort women. That’s not your MO at all.”
“Exactly,” I said, hoping he would disprove his own theory.
“And that’s what it is about her. She’s good looking, and despite the fact that you don’t like weak women, you like her.”
“She’s not weak,” I argued, giving myself away. I closed my eyes, shaking my head as he laughed.
“Holy shit. So, what is it about her?”
“Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing about her. It’s not her.”
“It’s gotta be the whole damsel thing. The question is, what makes her different?”
“I just said it’s not her.”
“Right, which means it is.”
He rushed over to his computer and started typing.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking her background.”
“Why?” I asked, rushing over to his side.
“Because I want to know more about her.” He pulled up her name in the system, laughing at what he found. I sighed, rubbing at my eyes. “So, not only is she a damsel in distress, but she’s a very chaotic damsel, and that’s what you like about her.”
“I never said I liked her!”
“I should have known it. The moment I saw the footage of you holding her in the street, I should have known you were going to fall for her. Of course, I’m surprised it took this long. But now that I think about it, whenever we go out—”
“The people always shout,” I interrupted, hoping to throw him off, but he kept going.
“—you’re always looking around, like you’re watching for someone.”
“Bullshit. You’re seeing what you want to see.”
“No, I’m finally paying attention. So, tell me about her.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I argued. “I don’t know anything about her.”
“You must know something,” he laughed, “otherwise you wouldn’t be so wrapped up in her.”
I walked away from him, sitting down at my desk with a huff. “I’m not wrapped up in anyone. I don’t like her. I don’t know her, and I definitely am not the man for her.”
“So you do know something about her. Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t know if you were the right man for her or not,” he said, jabbing a finger in my direction.
“Fine, you want to know about her? She’s some kind of hippie. She has a living room filled with fluffy pillows, no furniture, and weird tea.”
He nodded, grinning at me the whole time. “Did you drink the tea?” “Fuck off,” I said, storming out of the station, his laughter floating behind me.
I’m a stay at home mom that loves to read. Some of my favorite titles are Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and Horatio Hornblower. I started writing when I was trying to come up with suggestions on ways I could help bring in some extra money. I came up with the idea that I could donate plasma because you could earn an extra $500/month. My husband responded with, “No. Find something else. Write a blog. Write a book.” I didn’t think I had anything to share on blog that a thousand other mothers hadn’t already thought of. I decided to take his challenge seriously and sat down to write my first book, Jack. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed writing. From there, the stories continued to flow and I haven’t been able to stop. I hope my readers enjoy my books as much as I enjoy writing them. Between reading, writing, and taking care of three small kids, my days are quite full.
