I've Moved...

You can now find my blog as a feature on my website. Please stop on over...

http://www.krisnorris.ca/blog/index.html.

Cheers,
Kris

Merci, mon ami...

Yes, that is French. Honestly, I didn't know what else to write. And hell, if I can impress you with some foreign language skills. Of course, I'm not a hundred percent sure I spelt it all correctly, lol. But...I'm going to just go with it.

So, my southern neighbours are celebrating Thanksgiving this week. Up here in the great white north, we have our Thanksgiving in October, but I wish everyone a safe and happy weekend. I also know that for most, this is the dreaded or maybe welcomed, start of the Holiday season. And what appears to be the first day in non-stop eating, lol.

Now,  I've already made my thankful pledge back in October. I probably didn't write it down or anything, but I'm sure I mentioned it. To someone. At some point. But...I'll hold to accountability and make a list here.

Things I'm thankful for...

1—living in a country where I can express my individuality without fear of recourse.

Yes, we have hate crimes in Canada. At least, I assume we do. I honestly don't hear of many. Where I live, I rarely lock my doors and my truck's always open. Half the time, the keys are in it. My kids can walk without me being afraid that they'll get taken and if my car breaks down...a kind stranger will still pull over and give me a hand. And they won't end up being a serial killer. We legalized same-sex marriages a long time ago, and we seem to welcome most ethnic groups into our mix. We have a free healthcare system...no, it's not perfect, but I don't have to be afraid to go the doctor or the hospital because I can't afford it. So yes, I'm thankful to live where I do.

2—to have a roof over my head and food on the table.

3—that I have healthy kids who I love and adore and who don't show signs of being serial killers in the making. Hey, I've thought about this. You know how siblings can be, especially brothers. So those rare moments when they actually show they care—yeah, those give me a glimmer of hope :) They're smart, funny and will always be my greatest achievement. Though I only can claim the birthing part. They've long since out-shined me. And I couldn't be prouder.

4—a small circle of close friends. Ones I know I can call, day or night, doesn't matter. Ones who will be there. Some live close by. Some I talk to everyday but only get to see in person once in a while. Though with FaceTime... do you hear that Bronwyn? Jess will FaceTime with me. Just saying. Anyway, I always think of this when I think of my close gal pals. A good friend is someone who will bail you out of jail. A best friend will be standing beside you saying…what the hell were we thinking? And I'm thankful I have the latter of the two.

5—for family that makes me laugh. I'm lucky to call them friends—even if I do want to strangle them at times.

6—a career doing what I love. True, it's not quite as profitable as I'd love for it to be—yet—but. God, I love every day. Even the hard days—when I bleed every word—it beats anything else I've done. Well, other than doing Cover Art. God, I love that, too.

Hmmm, I'm sure I could go on. I know there's more I am probably thankful for each day. Like trails to run so I don't have to hit the streets. Trails that give me sanity and help me see the little things so much better. For a running partner with four legs who's always ready to go. Who never judges whether I'm fast or slow and is never too tired to go one more mile.

Now go check out the ladies and see what they are thankful for.

Bronwyn Green   |   Jessica Jarman   |   Gwendolyn Cease   |   Kellie St. James

I'm a genie in a bottle, you better rub me the right way…

How is it mid-November already? I'm not ready for the end of the year—not yet. Though I'll be happy when the days start getting longer again. While I love winter—it doesn't get that bad here. More rain than anything. I miss having longer days. I like to be able to run or bike later in the evening and right now, if I'm not back by 4:45, it's hella dark.

But that's just the lack of daylight talking. This week's blog is an interesting one. A genie grants me three writing wishes. What are they?

Okay...I hope you all know because I don't. Three wishes I can work with, but writing ones? The first couple that pop to mind are kinda, too superficial. Obviously, that I'd sell a million copies of every book, and be able to buy a small island somewhere:)

But is that really what I'd want to waste a wish on?

I think my first wish would be—no writer's block. I'll admit. I don't suffer from this all that often, but when I do...like right now...it sucks major ass. It gets to the point it feels as if I'm literally bleeding every word. It takes forever to get a page let alone a chapter. And even though I know what I want to happen in my head, I can't seem to get it on the page. Trust me when I say that nothing is more frustrating than having this pop up. And like everything, it usually happens when I'm on a tight deadline. So definitely NO MORE WRITER'S BLOCK.

Wish numero deux...edit-free first drafts. Wouldn't that be fantastic. Writing your final version, completely error free the first time! No typos, missing words, plot holes—you name it, every sentence you write is a perfect version. You book just goes straight to final. Yeah, that would be another wish.

My last wish. Okay...I get to make my characters come to life. Or at least, one of them at a time. Oh yeah, now this would be a hell of a wish. Imagine the endless possibilities. This would be the ultimate for most authors. Being able to interact with the voices that chatter away in your head in human form? Priceless. Price. Less.

So there you have it. My three wishes. I would have preferred to have some personal ones...but I think we all know where that would head. Yup, exactly there.

Please check out the other ladies and see what they're having their genies grant for them.

Jess   |   Bronwyn   |   Gwen

I'm too sexy for my shirt…

Random time again. And this week it all about Mad Skills people... yeah, so basically this post is over and I'll just go and wear the bowl of shame for the rest of the week. Thanks for dropping by...

Okay, so I guess I can think of a couple of freaking mad skills. Though mad might be over-rated. Okay, highly over-rated. But I'll list what I can folks. You'll just have to suspend belief for the next few minutes.

1 - I can remember the lyrics of almost every song, including TV show themes.

Hey, don't laugh. This is an extremely useful skill. Being able to sing along at the drop of a hat...hell, yeah. And you can rock in games like Trivia Pursuit or even just 'name that tune' kind of times. Go ahead...test me people.

2 - I remember where most actors/actresses are from...as in which movie or TV show.

Again, another highly useful trait. My brother tests me all the time. You'll be happy to know I have passed this awesomely mad skill on to my kids. And I quiz them at the drop of a hat. I think Jared might have surpassed me in this ability. He's brilliant at recognizing people.

3 - Remembering lines from movies.

Yeah, I know there's a trend here. I see it. So it's two-fold, really. One, I have a photographic memory. Not quite the eidetic memory of my fave, Dr. Spencer Reid, but I can usually visualize what I need to recall—where it was on a page. How it was written. That sort of thing. Helped in University for sure. And two...a misspent youth with far too much time on my hands.

4 - I'll be vain and say graphic art. So websites and cover art.

Yes... vain I say, but damn...I can figure most shit out and I freaking love the covers I've made. So there. Deal with it people. And I'm going to be even worse and include some...

Now I wish I could say things like knitting, or painting or parkour. Especially parkour. I have taken jujitsu, but no mad skills. And I mountain bike, but again, I wouldn't call it mad skills. More like I get so tired my give a damns just deplete and I try anything.

And yeah, I'm not going to say writing because...well, that's just weird. Definitely not the Canadian way, lol.

Sadly, that's it. I can't think of any other mad skills. Maybe I need to get some. Kick boxing. Yeah, that and using a bow and arrow. I'll work on those and maybe by the time this subject resurfaces I can have more mad skills.

Go check out the ladies and see what abilities they kick ass at.

Bronwyn   |   Jess   |   Gwendolyn  

The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike…

Okay, work with me folks. I'm running out of creative ways to introduce favourite things. So I've turned to Nickelback. I'm certain this shocks no one. But it all leads to this week's blog topic. Drum roll please...Favourite things Actors and Actresses.

Seriously? This is just going to be a Keanu and Matthew blog fest. Again, I will probably go on some kind of list for virtual stalking. I wonder what they think when they see blog posts with their pictures on it? But Keanu is Canadian, people! CANADIAN. Like Chad... I have to support my fellow Canadians.

Thus, I will give you my list of favourite actors...and yes, I'll toss in an actress to appease people. But it's the guys I'm looking at. And this will by no means be a complete list. There are far too many. I'll have to just list a few. A measly few, folks. So, in no particular order...







Keanu Reeves.

I figured, might as well just get this one up there. You all knew it was coming, so... here he is. And some of my favourite roles? Constantine.. again, no shock factor. Neo and his role in Something's Gotta Give.




















Matthew Gubler-Grey

Yup, second one was obvious. I know. His role as Dr. Spencer Reid. We all know what I think of it and what it does to me. So let's just look. And look some more.





















Robert Downey Jr.

Now, he had some questionable stuff in his early years, but damn. He is the man behind two of my favourite characters ~ Tony Stark and Sherlock Holmes. I particularly love him as Holmes. And his new movie looks good. I just think the man really came into his own as he got older. Wiser.






















Richard Dean Anderson

I know. I'm dating myself but damn, MacGyver! And his role on Stargate SG1 and a short lived series called Legend (I think). One of my faves from days gone by, people.






















Sean Connery...okay, Sir Sean Connery

Need I say anything about this man. He will always be the James Bond for me. And his role as Indie's father...priceless.

Sandra Bullock

Yes, I love this lady. Ms. Congeniality, Heat, a dozen other roles. One of my all-time favourite actresses.

Betty White.

The woman deserves to be every bit the legend that she is. I adore her and have since her Mary Tyler Moore days... she was in that, right? That's going back for me, lol. But I definitely remember her in Golden Girls and everything since. She's amazing.










Lastly... Kirsten Vangsness

She plays Penelope Garcia on Criminal Minds and I honestly love her character and how she portrays it. She's vivacious and the kind of person you'd want as a friend, lol. And she's super pretty.

Oh... how did Matthew get in that one. Oops. My bad.

Of course, I think we all know who my favourite is... I know. I need help, people. Go have a gander at the other ladies. I'm thinking Sean and Robert might have a chance at showing up again. And Betty White should be on everyone's list, lol. 

Bronwyn Green

Jessica Jarman

Gwendolyn Cease

Kellie St. James

O-weeeeee-ooooooo

How is it the end of October already? I mean, we're only two months away from Christmas and the 2015! Wasn't it just August? Sigh. Anyway, this week is all about Halloween traditions. And well, I'm sad to say, most of the traditions for Halloween have slowly faded as the kids have gotten older and time... well, time sees so much more limited.

For instance, this Halloween, my youngest, Sydney, is the only one dressing up, and she's just going to hang with some friends. Not going around our neighbourhood. Just...hanging at a friend's house. The boys? Well, the Jared will most likely be playing his new Assassin's Creed game and my oldest, Kyle, is actually working. He's officiating a Junior B game up island, so I'll probably be there watching him...being a proud mom.

Though we will still carve a pumpkin. Sys will do that. And there will be candy. Not sure how much will make it all the way until Friday, but...some will. But living in a small neighbourhood, we don't get that many kids.

About the only thing we'll still do is watch a few Halloween movies....some of the uber bad original Halloween ones, Charlie Brown ~ Great Pumpkin, Hocus Pocus... that sort of thing.

Once upon a time…we'd go to the farm and pick out a pumpkin for all. We'd spend hours carving them, often using those special carving tools to make the fancy ones. We'd decorate the house, inside and out. Ghosts in the trees, skulls on the porch. I also once made a fence with a crow on it out of black construction paper so it looked like a shadow scene. Alas, I'm not even sure it made the move.

The only holiday we really celebrate now is Christmas. Lights outside, we cut our own tree. But somewhere along the line, we just decided that we weren't really into the commercial aspects of the holidays. Even Christmas is getting crazy. My dream is just to go away...head out for isolated family time. Maybe this year we'll just drive down to Mexico and sit on a beach.

So, yeah, I don't have any real traditions to share. We've fallen off the holiday band wagon. But I will share a few pics from Halloween's past.

Check out the other ladies. I bet they still have the ghostly spirit.

Bronwyn Green
Jessica Jarman
Gwendolyn Cease
Kellie St. James

Who ya gonna call…

GHOSTBUSTERS!

A classic movie and the backdrop for this week's Wednesday Random Post. The ladies have chosen— Do you believe in ghosts? Um, hello... I got the Travel and Escape channel just so I could watch Ghost Adventures! I love that show. The concept and the guys are pretty fun to watch. I also like how there is science involved. Of course, at the end of the day, believing in ghosts is something you either choose to do or don't. But I still love the show.

So...have I ever had any had any ghostly encounters?

Okay... so before I moved out west from Toronto, I lived in this old house just north of the city. And I swear to you, that place was freaking haunted. Yes, I know. I can't say that I really believed in them that strongly before, but damn, after a year in that place, I changed my mind.

Now there were a number of incidents—besides the fact that my dog absolutely hated being there alone. And no, the dog didn't freak out other places alone, just this house. I'm talking other, more concrete occurrences. Things would end up in different places. Pictures would be flipped on the wall. Creepy things like that. And I suppose you could say...well, it's just someone playing a prank. Because I did live with two roommates. So yes, I didn't take it all to heart, until one day.

Set the scene.

At this point, I was living with just one other friend. A great guy named Billy. We were both helicopter pilots. I was working for Air Ambulance and he was working for another company out of a nearby airport. So I worked shift work. I'd maybe see Billy a few hours in passing, but that was it.

One day, I was home after working the night shift. As you can imagine, it was a bit hard to unwind after a shift, and it must have been around ten AM. I'd just gone upstairs to bed. Dog was with me. She starts huffing, and I hear the back screen door open and slam shut. This is followed by voices. Loud enough I can hear them—there was definitely a male talking—but I can't make out all the words.

This continues to the point I wonder if Billy knows I'm home. I didn't care about the noise, just really wanted him to know I was there so I didn't surprise him. So...I get up and go to the top of the stairs (this is a small house, people) and I yell down... "Hey, Billy. Just letting you know I'm upstairs."

I wait, expecting him to yell up, but nothing. After a minute I go downstairs and there's no one there. Not a freaking soul. And... the back screen door is locked by one of those stupid hook locks. Mostly because it would sometimes bang during a strong wind.

And I know...maybe he just left. Oh nah nah, people. He was gone all that day on a flight up north. So he couldn't have come home.

After that...yeah, I've looked at things slightly different. I've had other, more removed encounters but that...that was something else. Obviously something I'll never forget.

So yes, I do believe in ghosts. And this is exactly why I wrote the series BETWEEN THE VIELS. Four stories about different ghostly encounters, and I have to say... I loved writing them. Of course, I didn't have a handsome sexy guy like one of the Smith boys ride to the rescue, lol...

After all, science says energy can't be created nor destroyed, merely changed. And I honestly believe that when we die, it's a change in energy. At least, that's what I'm hoping ;)

Now go check out the other ladies and see their take on the eternal question of ghostly apparitions.

Bronwyn Green
Jessica Jarman
Gwendolyn Cease

RICOCHET ~ It's finally here!

OMG... Seriously, I'm totally stoked. Today is RELEASE DAY for my very first ever Self-Published book ~ RICOCHET. And it seems only fitting that my first solo project like this revisits my roots in Suspense/Thriller. Here's a bit about it...

NOW AVAILABLE 

SMASHWORDS

AMAZON USA

AMAZON CANADA

AMAZON UK

And other stores worldwide...

Blurb:

A moment he can’t take back…

An unlucky rebound has left US Marshal Ashton Kane broken. His partner’s dead and, consumed by guilt, he’s walked out on the only woman he’ll ever love.

A love she can’t forget…

Cassidy Ryan has tried to move on. Losing the love of her life cut deep, but she vowed she wouldn’t let it break her. And she’s finally taking back her life—until she stumbles upon a deadly encounter that threatens to destroy everything and everyone around her.

One last chance at redemption…

Ash has fooled himself into believing Cassidy’s better off without him—until she puts her life on the line, forcing him to face the demons that still whisper in the dark, or risk losing her. Again. Only this time, it’ll be no one’s fault, but his.

Excerpt:

Seattle, two years ago…

Ashton Kane faced the casket, feet braced apart, hands fisted together behind his back. Voices murmured around him, the constant rise and fall scratching at his consciousness. He stared directly ahead, looking through the crowd toward the other side of the graveyard. Mist curled over the distant hill, creeping amidst the rows of crosses, slowly blanketing the gravesite in a numbing gray. He shifted his focus when a line of officers raised their weapons, preparing for the instant the rifles would fire. The one moment he couldn’t block out.

The reports echoed across the cemetery, scattering a flock of birds. Cackling squawks faded as the low vibrations roiled through the air, settling like stones in his gut. Tendrils of smoke swirled upwards, the smell of sulfur heavy in the light breeze. Memories flashed through his mind, the images cloaked in black and white—the pop of gunfire, the clatter of footsteps. They played in an unrelenting stream of sound and disjointed pictures, all culminating into one singular truth.

His gun.

His bullet.

His fault.

He closed his eyes, willing the voices in his head to stop, to leave him the fuck alone. He’d already lost his partner, his sanity. What more could they possibly want? What amount of guilt and self-loathing would be enough to quiet them?

A gentle touch along his shoulder jerked him back, and he looked to his left, glancing at the woman standing beside him, her face blurring in and out of focus as the memories shuffled, Ben’s dull eyes still staring at him from the darkness. He wanted to hold her gaze, knowing it was expected, but he broke eye contact, wishing he could fade like the pictures inside his head.

Cassidy’s sighed, the shaky sound only increasing the guilt threatening to pull him under. “It’s time to go. They’ll be expecting us at his parents’ house.”

Ash nodded, glancing back at the grave, watching the coffin as it disappeared into the ground, nothing but a hollow thud whispering through the air. He clenched his teeth, willing Ben’s voice out of his head, choking back the bitter taste in his mouth as the scent of blood smothered his senses. It wasn’t real. None of it. Just his imagination playing with his mind. Twisting the events until he barely remembered which parts had actually happened.

Not like the lingering cry of Ben’s mother—the memory of her screaming when he’d informed her that her son had been killed. The feel of her fingers cinched around his wrists, her weight—dead like her son—hanging limp in his arms. Those were real. Those gnawed at him. Clawed at what little remained of his sanity. Pounded through his head like a damn battering ram.

“Ash? You okay?”

He forced himself to turn, to meet Cassidy’s gaze and hold it this time. Blue eyes surrounded by creamy smooth skin. He couldn’t remember if he’d even looked directly at her since the raid. Since the part of him that made him Ash—made him worthy of her love, worthy of fucking living—had died. Gotten misdirected like that damn bullet, leaving nothing but pain and chaos behind. She was just as beautiful. Just as pure as when he’d first met her.

He’d taint that. Turn it into something ugly. Something she’d want to hide.

She frowned, scanning the empty site. “It’s okay. I’ll explain it to the Director. It’s too soon. We’ll drop by once things have settled.” She touched his arm, only to draw back her hand when his muscles clenched beneath her fingers. “I’ll give you a few moments. Meet me at the car.” She turned, taking a few hesitant steps away before twisting to gaze at him. “As long as you need. I’ll wait.”

He watched her walk away, her boots leaving small impressions on the wet grass. It must have rained, though he couldn’t seem to remember. The weather. If he’d bothered to eat. What day it was.

Judgment day.

Ash swallowed past the lump in his throat. He should leave. Walk away. Take Cassidy home and make love to her until the memories vanished. Until the haunting rasp of Ben’s voice and his partner’s vacant stare faded into the press of her body beneath his. Until her soft, wet heat surrounded him, healing him.

It was a ricochet, Ash. One fucked-up bounce. No way you could have known…

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up!”

He pressed his hands against his temples. Excuses. Lies. He was to blame. He’d given the orders, told Ben to secure the rear exit. If Ash had just done the damn job himself…

He turned on his heels, heading for the red Jeep parked near the end of the lane. He could see her brown hair through the window. The way it cascaded across her shoulders, the muted light highlighting the golden streaks in it. He clenched his fists. He could still feel the ghosted caress of the silky strands across his skin as he gathered them in his hands, holding the mass back as she moved above him. Sweat-slicked flesh gleaming in the moonlight. Her back arched, head thrown back as she pulsed around him, making him feel alive. Deserving.

He hadn’t so much as kissed her this past week. Had barely been able to bring himself to be in the same room with her. She’d tried talking to him then had left him to his thoughts, always reminding him she was there. That she’d always be there. That she’d wait.

He walked woodenly to the car, opening the door then sliding in. He didn’t turn to meet the gaze he felt centered on him, choosing to stare straight ahead as he turned the key, letting the hum of the engine fill his head. He glanced over his shoulder, pulling into the lane, refusing to look at the grave in the rear-view mirror. He’d made his choice. He just didn’t know if he could live with it.

* * * *

“He’s gone, Ash. You can stop.”

Ash shrugged the hand off his shoulder, pressing on Ben’s chest, counting out sets of five before pausing to breathe into the man’s mouth. “Where the hell are the paramedics?”

“Ash…”

“He’s not dead. Fuck that.” He kept pushing, kept breathing. “He wasn’t even in the line of fire.” He brushed sweat out of his eyes. “Come on, buddy. Breathe for me. Just fucking breathe.”

Ash bolted awake, arms thrashing, heart pounding. Images wavered in the darkness as Ben’s voice played in his head, the accusing tone grating on his nerves. Ash closed his eyes, focusing on drawing air in, then pushing it out, shaking his hands against the remembered feel of his gun. His skin felt tight, as if he were inside someone else’s body, fighting to get out. The lights flicked on a moment before the couch dipped beside him. He closed his eyes, mentally telling her not to touch him. Not to make him feel.

She kept her distance, a rough sigh sounding beside him. “Here. This might help.”

Somehow he managed to pry open his eyelids, staring at her outstretched hand. The brown liquid shimmered in the light, reflecting the pattern of wood on the ceiling.

He took the glass, tensing when his hand brushed hers, feeling his heart beat faster at the brief contact. Hell, just knowing she was only a foot away, her breath softly blowing across him, made him want to crawl out of his skin. Leave that man, those thoughts, behind.

He downed the shot, letting the warm liquid burn away the pain. But it wouldn’t last. Wouldn’t do more than mock the memories that lingered just beneath the surface. A temporary reprieve that would make the next round more vivid. More real.

Cassidy reached for the cup, allowing him to drop it into her hand. He didn’t miss the way her fingers trembled, nervously caressing the glass as if being this close to him frightened her. It should. It frightened him.

Another sigh passed her lips as she stared at him, the weight of her gaze making his muscles twitch. He held his breath, finally shifting his focus, cursing at the tears pooling in her eyes. It gutted him. Tore at whatever piece of himself still remained.

She waited until she seemed certain he wouldn’t look away. “They’re getting worse. You can’t even sleep for more than an hour without screaming. We can’t live like this, Ash.” She pushed her hand through her hair, tousling it about her head. “You need help. We need help.”

He gained his feet, crossing the room, needing the distance just to fucking breathe. The air felt too heavy. Too weighed down by her expectations, her needs. He stared out the window, watching the rain dot the glass, distorting the streetlights gleaming on the road.

“Ash. Please. I’m not going to tell you that I know how you feel. I wouldn’t insult you like that, but damn it…” She padded to the center of the room. “You can’t even look at me. I feel as if I’ve already lost you, and you’re standing five feet away.”

His chin bowed toward his chest, the truth of her statement hitting him hard. “I’m dealing.”

“You’re dealing?” Her voice rose in pitch, tears muffling some of the syllables. “How are you dealing, exactly? By pushing everyone away? By retreating so far inside yourself all you can see is the darkness? The pain?” More footsteps were followed by her hand on his arm. “Ben’s dead—”

“Because of me!” He spun, breaking her hold. “Ben is dead because of me. Because of the choices I made. Those are the facts.”

“The damn bullet ricocheted. It hit that fugitive’s skull and veered off. It wasn’t your fault. It was a freak accident. They’ve already cleared you—”

“You think I give a shit whether the Marshal Service clears me? Whether they deem it a clean hit? Justified? I killed my fucking partner, Cass. No one and nothing can clear me of that.”

She moved in front of him when he tried to push past her. “Don’t. Don’t walk out on this. I get that Ben’s death has killed something inside you. I know you’re hurting. But don’t shut me out. I’ve given you space. Waited for you to come to me. But you won’t talk to me let alone touch me.” She brushed at the tears that washed down her cheeks. Cursing. “I could have lost you. Do you know how many times I’ve died inside picturing that? Please. Baby. Let me help you.”

She reached for him, a gentle caress of her fingers along his arm. He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes as he fought not to jerk away. To give her just a small measure of what he knew she needed. She waited, seemingly judging his response until he looked at her again. Those blue eyes pleaded with him as she smoothed her hand along his forearm, stepping forward, her body slowly pressing against his.

His chest heaved, his lungs refusing to open, to draw in any significant amount of air. Panic crawled just beneath his skin, lurking. Waiting for him to weaken. Her scent surrounded him, the warm, sweet essence like a slap to his face. He didn’t deserve this. The forgiveness. The love.

Her head rested against his shoulder, her hands palming his ribs. Tears stung his eyes, the steady beat of her heart drawing him under. He didn’t resist when she led him down the hall, taking him into their bedroom. The bed shifted beneath him as he fell onto it, her body spooning into his. He stared at the ceiling, feeling her slowly give herself over to sleep. His gut clenched, the images taunting him from the shadows, and he knew he’d never be free.

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I did writing it. I can honestly say it's one of the best books I've written to date, and, I simply am in love with it. You can download the first few chapters from Smashwords if you'd like it to give it a go.