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Excerpt:
The footsteps echoed closer.
She scanned the area, searching for an object she might use as a weapon. There was nothing except some debris in the far corner, what looked like leaves and old rags. Nothing she could use to defend herself.
Allison’s heart thumped so loudly it became difficult to listen to the footsteps as they drew closer. All she heard was the drumming of blood pounding in her ears. She couldn’t see anything beyond the archway leading to this room. The source of the dim light originated from somewhere to the left of the opening, but beyond that, she didn’t know what might be out there.
Fear made her feet scurry until her back hit the stone wall beside the wooden ladder. She didn’t know what to do. Whatever was down here had been put here for a purpose.
Some animal? A bear, wolf or lion? Starved until the sisters fed him. Was she supposed to be sacrificed as dinner?
Was that why they said they hadn’t killed any of their victims? They’d thrown them into a hole in the ground and let an animal finish their dirty work. Semantics, but maybe that’s how they viewed it.
Allison wasn’t ready to die, but she didn’t know how to defend herself against an animal without a weapon either.
So, she did the only thing she could think of in a situation such as this.
She hid.
Allison crawled beneath the wooden ladder, curling her knees against her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. She wanted to tuck her face into her knees to hide, but she couldn’t take her gaze off the archway. She needed to see what animal approached.
If she kept still, perhaps whatever walked in this direction would pass the opening, not noticing her presence.
She waited, heart thundering as she clutched her arms around her knees. The footsteps got closer. They weren’t hurried. The steps sounded slow. Sluggish. Cautious.
Stalking? Hunting?
Allison wished to close her eyes.
I’m invisible. I’m invisible.
If she kept repeating the words in her mind, they might come true.
It will walk by. It won’t see me. I’m invisible.
A tall shadow appeared in the opening. As it stepped into the chamber, she recognized a human shape, not an animal as she’d expected.
A man.
He stepped cautiously, his feet shuffling forward. He was tall. Well over 6 feet.
As he approached, he turned enough to allow the low light to illuminate his face. He had shaggy brown hair and a long, thin, narrow face covered with an unkempt beard. His blank expression sent a shiver of apprehension racing through her.
Something about his stance, the way he approached the chamber made her uneasy. He walked slowly into the room, aimlessly stepping from left to right and left again with no obvious direction.
Perhaps, if she remained hidden in the poor light, he’d turn and leave.
Although, how could he not see her? The ladder was not solid wood. There were open slats. She curled beneath, searching for protection, but the low light from the doorway must be enough to illuminate the area. She was sure there wasn’t much shadow beneath the ladder to keep her hidden.
Yet, he didn’t see her. And why didn’t he move his gaze to search the room? He stared straight ahead, neither looking left nor right, up nor down. Simply straight in front of him.
He held a long, sturdy stick in his hand. As he shuffled near, she realized the point of it was sharpened. Like a makeshift spear.
A weapon.
He was armed.
Had this man killed those victims? Would she be next?
Allison wanted to duck her head and cry, but she was too frightened. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on the man as he walked across the room. The space wasn’t large, perhaps 15 feet at its widest. And he was only a few steps away. It wouldn’t take much for him to turn in her direction and use the spear to attack her.
As he walked past her hidden spot, she noticed his clothing. Faded blue t-shirt and tan trousers, badly torn and filthy. Not only dirt stained his clothes, but something else, too.
Was it mud?
Or was it… blood?
Clarissa Tempest has dealt with plenty of bedlam in Bethlehem. There’s been a bit of peace now until she learns that a dear friend has died. Maybe now, she’ll face her fear and take her relationship to the next level because tomorrow isn’t a guarantee. But then, of course, there’s a body.
Footsteps sound behind me, and I don’t bother to turn around.
“Diego,” I say.
“Good guess. How did you know it was me?” he asks as he moves to stand beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Who else would be prowling the cemetery at this hour?”
“Besides you? Not too many.” He tweaks my nose.
“How romantic.” I slap his chest.
“I can be romantic when I want to be.” Case in point, he hands me a box.
I open it to learn it’s a box of chocolates. “Thank you, but how many did you eat?”
The moon shines on his face as he quirks his lips. “Just one.”
“I guess that’s all right,” I tease. “I might let you stick around.”
“There’s a chance you won’t?” he presses, smirking.
“On second thought…” I place the chocolate box down to the side and stare up into his handsome face, and the words just slip out. I originally intended to ask tonight in bed, but why not here? Some would think a proposal in a cemetery is a bit morbid, and maybe it is, but it fits us. It fits me. “I love you, Diego. Let’s get married.”
He gapes at me for a split second and then shakes his head and mumbles something in Spanish.
I lift my eyebrows. “I don’t know what you said, but I also didn’t hear sÃ.”
Halloween curses plague the daring heroes and spunky heroines in this spirited collection of tales. A Cursed All Hallows' Eve brings you 20+ stories stuffed with everything from dark gods to brooding shifters, delivering hours of decadent, pleasure-filled reading from bestselling and award winning urban fantasy and paranormal romance authors.
If you can't get enough of those supernatural creatures—vampires, ghosts, witches, demons, and fae—this limited edition collection will alternately thrill you with the spicy and tempt you with the sweet. Delve into these worlds where the living haunt the dead and the undead tempt the breathing.
Answer the call, because this Halloween, not all the costumes are disguises.
Hello and welcome, readers! We have Nicole Zoltack here with us today. Nicole Zoltack, thanks for visiting us.
How long have you been a writer and how did you come to writing?
I’ve been a writer forever. I’ve always wanted to be a writer since I was four years old, and in 2009, I was published for the first time, and I haven’t looked back since! I started to write because my mom used to sit my sister and I down at the kitchen table while she was making meals. She gave us papers and pencils and told us to write, so writing’s always been a part of my life.
Tell us about your title featured in: A Cursed All Hallows’ Eve
When Wendigos Prey is an epilogue to my Bedlam in Bethlehem series about a detective in Bethlehem, PA who discovers that the creatures that go bump in the night are real and not just myths.
How did you come up with the storyline?
I always wanted to write a short bit about what happens to Clarissa. So much darkness has touched her life that it’s time for some happiness, but there’s a body. There’s always a dead body.
What inspires you to write?
I find inspiration everywhere, from tv shows, movies, dreams, playing the what if game… I have a ton of ideas to write!
Tell us about your other books:
There’s the Bedlam in Bethlehem series, which kicks off a huge world with a ton of other series to enjoy. Next is Magical Hunters Academy, a series about a school that teaches paranormal beings how to become hunters, slayers, or executioners of evil paranormal beings. There’s Blood Haven Academy, an academy for vampires. The trilogy is a paranormal retelling of Romeo and Juliet. There’s also Magical Prison, about twin fairies, and finally, Rebel, Supernatural Bounty Hunter is the last series in this world so far. It’s about—you guessed it!—a supernatural bounty hunter. A human supernatural bounty hunter. There’s plenty of crossover in the later books!
I also have a trilogy called Queenmaker about King Arthur if he had been a girl. Once Upon a Darkened Night is a series of twisted fairy tales where the villain is now the hero. There’s a superhero trilogy and a quartet about dragon shifters… What can I say? I love to write!
Where can readers find you?
www.facebook.com/authorNicoleZoltack
www.amazon.com/author/nicolezoltack
www.bookbub.com/authors/nicole-zoltack
www.goodreads.com/nicolezoltack
www.instagram.com/NicoleZoltack
About the Author:
Nicole Zoltack is a USA Today bestselling author who loves to write romances. Of course. She did marry her first kiss, after all!
When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or witches, she enjoys spending time with her loving husband, three energetic young boys, and precious baby girl. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her current favorite TV shows are The Witcher and Stranger Things.
Sign up for her newsletter to learn when her next book is released as well as excerpts, cover reveals, and giveaways!
Crunching metal and splintering wood
sent her body surging forward, but her seatbelt held her firmly in place.
It all happened in an instant and then everything
was still.
The car’s engine shut off. There was the
tiny crackling of cooling metal, but all else was silent.
Clara gasped and remained in her seat,
trying to mentally take in what just happened. She glanced at the road,
searching for some sign of the animal but found none.
She hadn’t hit it. She’d swerved in
time.
But at the cost of her car.
“Damn,” she muttered. Her shoulder was
sore from where the seatbelt locked to keep her in place, but besides that, she
had no other injuries. The airbag had failed, but thankfully she hadn’t needed
it.
Hoping for good luck, Clara turned the
key in the ignition to start the engine, but nothing happened. She unbuckled
her belt and got out of the car to assess the damage. The front of the Hyundai was
crumpled against a cracked tree trunk.
“Damn.”
Of all the luck. Guess she would be missing
that TV show.
Clara shook her head, desperately trying
to think of the positives in the situation. She was alive. She wasn’t hurt.
That was the important stuff. She could count her lucky stars that she hadn’t
needed that airbag.
She could replace the car. Eventually.
Her DVR would record her show. Everything was okay. It could have been much,
much worse.
A growl echoed from the dark forest.
Clara froze.
She couldn’t tell which direction the
sound originated. It bounced eerily in the depths of the surrounding woods.
A dog.
Clara recalled the flash of fur and
teeth she’d seen dart across the road. It must have been a dog that darted in
front of her.
Had she clipped it with the car? She
hadn’t felt an impact, but everything happened so fast. Was it injured?
Clara searched the moonlit road, but
with trees on either side of her, she couldn’t see much.
“Dog?” Clara called out, her voice
falling flat in the night’s stillness. Even the crickets and other night noises
had died away. She whistled. “Here, puppy! You okay?”
Another low threatening growl made her
take a step back.
She gasped.
It must be injured. And an injured
animal was dangerous, even if all she wanted to do was help. It had been a shepherd-sized
dog, if not bigger. If it was hurt, it might attack her out of pain and fear.
Another growl, closer this time, sent
her heart hammering.
She would need help with the animal.
There was no way she could deal with this on her own.
She got back into her car and found her
purse with its contents strewn across the floor of the passenger’s seat. She
rummaged through the items, searching blindly in the dark for her cellphone.
When she found it, she let out a relieved sigh.
She went to press 911 but hesitated. How
long would it take to have them send someone? It was 911. Of course, they’d
send someone fast.
But Ethan was at the diner. He was only a
minute or two away.
She found his number in her contacts
list and dialed. She didn’t need to wait for him to answer.
“Changed your mind, Clara?” His deep
voice rumbled through the silence of the car’s interior.
“I need help, Ethan. A dog ran in front
of my car, and I swerved to miss it. I hit a tree on the side of the road.”
“A dog?” The amusement in his voice died
away. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay. But my car is damaged,
and I hear the dog growling in the woods. I think it’s injured.”
“Stay inside the car, Clara. Where are
you?” A chill swept through her at the abrupt change in his tone. She’d never
heard him sound so serious.
“I’m on Stoyer Street. About a quarter
of a mile to my house. I almost made it home—"
“Stay in the car, do you hear me? Lock
the doors. I’ll be right there.”
He disconnected. Clara stared at the
screen on her phone for a moment. Why would she need to lock herself in the
car? It was a dog. It’s not as if the animal could open the car door, locked or
unlocked.
After several seconds of sitting inside
the vehicle staring at the moonlit road and darkened forest, she hit the button
on her door to lock it. The dog was out there, sure, probably lying out of
sight alongside the road. But that didn’t account for the sensation of eyes peering
at her. Intelligent, malicious eyes. The hair on the back of her arms rose.
Clara took a deep breath and shook her
head to dismiss her thoughts. She was not one to spook easily. She lived in a
small house in the middle of the woods. She’d been living alone there for three
years.
It must be the full moon. People got a
little wacky during a full moon. That might account for her sudden paranoia.
And she’d just gotten into an accident.
Her adrenaline was pumping. Her mind was racing. That might explain the sudden
bout of nerves she experienced.
She counted the minutes until Ethan’s
arrival. While she waited, she busied herself with returning the contents to
her fallen purse, then holding it tight in her lap. When she saw the flashing
lights of his police cruiser, Clara let out a trembling laugh of relief.
He parked directly behind her and in an
instant was out of the cruiser. She slung her purse over her shoulder and opened
her car door to meet him.
Her eyes widened when she saw his gun
drawn.
“Where is it?” He demanded in the same
no-nonsense voice he used on the phone.
“You’re not going to shoot it, are you?”
Clara tilted her head.
“Where is it?” He repeated harshly, his
brows creased over narrowed blue eyes.
“I-I don’t know. Maybe over the side?”
She waved her hand in the direction she’d last seen it dart across the road. “I
may have clipped it. Everything happened so fast.”
“Stay here.” Ethan pulled a flashlight
from his pocket and strode to the opposite side of the road. He shone the flashlight
deep into the woods. For several minutes, he searched up and down the road.
After he finished one side, he searched the other.
Finding nothing, he holstered his weapon
and returned to where she stood by her car.
“What was that about?” Clara folded her
arms over her chest.
“Don’t you read the paper?” Ethan shone
the flashlight over her, checking for any signs of injury from head to foot.
“There’s a rabid dog in the area. It took down two cows on the Tanner farm last
week.”
“Oh,” Clara said. “I didn’t know.”
Ethan reached for Clara’s chin, gently
pushing her head side to side as he shone the flashlight over her skull.
“You sure you’re not hurt?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” But suddenly Clara
found it difficult to breathe as he leaned over her, his hand grazing her cheek
to move to her temple where his fingers slid into her hair. Finding no signs of
injury, he heaved a sigh of relief, his breath fogging the air in front of the
flashlight. The tension around his eyes eased.
“You’re okay.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Clara stared into his
face. The stark relief she saw there touched her heart. He’d been worried. He
had raced his police cruiser, lights flashing to reach her.
He’d do that for anyone, she reminded
herself. He was a cop. It was his job.
That didn’t seem to explain the way he
stared into her eyes. Surely, he didn’t look at everyone with the same heat,
the same flash of desire that she saw flickering in those ocean blue depths.
Clara couldn’t concentrate on anything
other than losing herself in his gaze. Her heart thumped wildly, and her breath
quickened. She could easily imagine herself standing on the tips of her toes to
place her lips on his.
What would it feel like to kiss Ethan?
To spend a night in his arms.
She was acutely aware of his hand in her
hair, sliding to cup her cheek. His thumb caressed her skin, sending a tumult
of sparks zinging through her belly.
Her lips parted. To say something? Or to
kiss him? She couldn’t decide.
The decision was taken from her when a vicious growl echoed across the road.
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