The Undead Wars (A Cry in the Moon's Light) Horror Dark Fantasy Romance by Alan McGill Book Tour with Rafflecopter
Love Never Dies
The Undead Wars
A Cry in the Moon’s Light Book 2
by Alan McGill
Genre: Horror Romance, Dark Fantasy
A LEADER WILL RISE AND A KINGDOM WILL FALL.
The former
Duchess of Harcourt lives a quiet life. The events of the Dark Forest
are a distant memory. But evil does not forget so easily. The
sinister Witch King has sent new creatures to find the remaining
witches.
Gruesome murders plague the land as eerie Wolf Song
echoes from the mountains. Is this the return of Seth? Or something
else?
Alessandra de Moreau must decide if she can work with
those who killed her love, for only together will they be able to
stop the Undead Army. But first, she will have to find the Dagger of
Dark Silver and unravel the Mystery of the Wolf, if they are to
survive The Undead Wars.
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A Cry in the Moon’s Light
A Cry in the Moon’s Light Book 1
In a time of castles, muskets, and hideous creatures of the night, a beautiful woman travels across the treacherous Dark Forest to be by the side of her dying grandmother. With only a young carriage driver to protect her, she must use her wits and all of her courage to cross the wild country—and to evade the mysterious beast who stalks her.
What follows is a tale full of horror, mystery, and romance: gruesome murders at a village hidden deep in the forest, a castle that holds dark secrets, and a black wolf leading a deadly pack. Nothing is as it seems, and this journey has only just begun. The beautiful lady in the carriage will learn that only love can defeat evil, but is it love or danger that cries out to her in the deceitful light of the moon?
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**Don’t miss the companion books!**
Red Door
A Cry In the Moon's Light Novella
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Father Daniel's Compendium of the Undead
A Companion Novella to A Cry in the Moon's Light
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Excerpt
from The Undead Wars: A Cry in the Moon’s Light Book Two
The men and women of the East Side
watched in horror. It was devastating to see creatures they thought destroyed
come back to life. What hope did they have if something can bring the dead back
to life again and again?
But worse than that, they watched
the Phoenix bring their dead neighbors back to life. Only they returned as
undead. The resurrection bird would swoop in tight to a dead corpse, use its
wings to sprint straight up and pull the body back as a member of the Undead
Army.
The charred corpses of those who
died by fire would rise with amber eyes that shined against blackened skin.
They all moved in jerky motion like the Skeletons, stumbling along and picking
up weapons. The peasants were horrified and reluctant to fight someone they
once knew.
Those who didn’t run or fight were
cleaved to death. The Phoenix wasted no time bringing them back to fight. Their
wounds were still fresh and oozing blood. As with the burnt corpses, they
picked up weapons and attacked in those weird jerky movements.
The Phoenix passed over the areas
where the Skeleton Soldiers had concentrated first before it made its way to
Alessandra. The bird swooped down over the Skeleton she dropped. Its wings
flapped hard, climbing high into the air, but nothing happened.
The puzzled demon looked confused.
This was not something the Phoenix had encountered before. Determined to carry
out its master’s order, the creature made another pass but still nothing
happened. An eerie cry of frustration erupted from its beak.
The Witch King watched but was not
surprised. The black glow intensified as he recalled his flaming pet. The
Phoenix immediately looked at him and with a blood-curdling caw, swooped down
angrily toward Alessandra.
Alessandra rolled out of the way as
the flaming bird tried to ram her. It flew past, going straight into her home.
The creature then burst through the roof, engulfing the entire structure in
flame. This was the most searing heat she’d ever felt. It was so intense she
had to step back.
She returned home to help her
neighbors, but she also wanted to retrieve the dreamcatcher. It was the one
thing the Drabarni gave her to
commune with Seth. Everything she owned, including that, was now lost.
As she stood helplessly watching her
house burn, a singular blue flame materialized in the middle of the blaze. The
light was so bright she used a hand to cover her eyes. The color was very
distinctive, unlike the other flames around it.
The heat from the fire subsided. It
was still too hot to approach, but not as before. Her eyes adjusted, allowing
her to see. The blue flames center now turned white.
A shadow figure appeared in the
flame. The figure of a man slowly came into focus. It was Seth! The only man
she’d every loved. The man she’d grown up with from Parlimae village. How was
he here? He died on that beach nearly fifteen years ago.
He wore a long dark coat, knee-high
boots, and grey pants. His long blonde hair was tied in a ponytail. His blue
eyes took in the surroundings before turning to her.
Then she heard his voice. It seemed
to echo in her mind. “You must find the Drabarni”
then a pause. “Do not blame him. You must work together.”
“Seth! Who? Don’t blame who?” She
yelled.
Seth voice distorted, “Go to the Red
Door.” The last sounds began to fade as the image disappeared. Within seconds,
he was gone. The blue flame consumed the white, then diminished leaving only
the blaze that consumed the house.
Alessandra wiped the tears from her
eyes. As the shock wore off, she picked up a sword next to the pile of bones.
Her mind ran through memories of Seth. His face at the Abandoned Church. Her
stitching his wounds after the battle with the Black Wolf. And she remembered
the kiss just before they had to flee.
The warm remembrance went away as
her thoughts turned to anger. Right after that kiss they had to flee. They ended
up on that beach surrounded by an angry mob from Mercel. That was when the
Hessian shot and killed Seth in front of her.
Thoughts of the Dreamcatcher filled
her mind. She looked at her home crumbling under the fire, that very
Dreamcatcher somewhere inside. It was gone.
Her eyes moved over the entire area.
Buildings were on fire, the whole neighborhood in turmoil, and people
desperately tried to escape. Skeletons chased many across the Stone Bridge. Not
all were fast enough and died horribly.
She looked again at the road north
next to the river. There were two Romani wagons leading a group away. With the
hordes of skeletons on the Stone Bridge, she thought it best to join the
Romani.
The Phoenix was now perched on the
Witch King’s pike. Its flames subdued as it rested. The Witch King had observed
the blue flame. He didn’t see Seth, but he knew magic when he saw it. Now he
watched as Alessandra went north to catch the caravan of people fleeing.
His eyes glowed black again as he
instructed his forces to cut off her escape. The Witch King was ordered his
minions to bring her to him, alive. The silver dagger and the blue flame
convinced him she was the witch he sought.
A Cry in the Moon’s Light - from Chapter 3 – The Horror Begins
Several Minutes passed before the
beast turned his gaze from the forest, satisfied the black wolf and his pack
were gone. The air calmed, and the clouds moved away. The moon’s light returned,
and the forest brightened. It was as if the beast had somehow cleared the sky
when he defeated the pack.
He looked up at me with those glowing blue eyes. Large teeth still gleamed from behind a slight snarl.
Saliva continued to drip from the edges of his mouth.
It was hard to catch my breath. The beast could easily reach up and yank me off the roof of this carriage.
My musket still lay on the ground at his feet.
But just as the sky had changed, so
did the beast. His snarl faded and his eyes softened. The look of rage left his
face. After a few moments, he looked almost peaceful.
His gaze dropped from me to the
carriage, where he no doubt found mi Lady. He didn’t approach her, though. Instead, the beast walked
past the horses to the fallen tree. Each step shook under
his weight and power. Not one of the horses moved. They still had whale eye,
the whites visible beyond the black. But they had settled
and started to calm. It was as if they understood him. Somehow, they sensed the
danger had passed.
He walked to the giant tree that blocked the road, looked back
at me, then pressed his shoulder against it. Battered and bloody, he pushed the massive tree aside. It took a few attempts, but he finally
shoved the tree far enough out of the way that the carriage could pass.
Then he stood up and looked back at the carriage.
I came down from the roof and picked
up my musket. I pulled it to my shoulder,
slowly taking aim at him. I was going to kill this thing
before he decided to attack us.
Before I could pull the trigger,
I heard the carriage door open and mi
Lady step out. Soft footsteps slowly approached. As she passed me,
she placed a hand over the barrel of my musket, lowering it to the
ground. The whole time, she kept her eyes on the beast. He didn’t take
his eyes off her either.
She let go of the musket once it was pointing down and started
walking toward him. I whispered, “Mademoiselle, no!”
She slowly raised her hand and motioned that it was OK. In an expression of disbelief, I heard her whisper softly to herself, “It can-
not
be.”
She
moved alongside the horses as he took a couple
of steps back. She placed a calm hand over Arca’s mane then turned
to face the beast
as she removed her hood. I watched as they stood there facing each
other. Her eyes moving slowly over his battered and bloody
body, examining every wound. She winced at some of the tears in
his flesh.
She
reached out, with slight hesitation, to touch his face. A clawed
hand met hers. Tears began to well up in her eyes.
He stepped back, pausing before taking off into the woods. She
watched as he faded from sight. A teardrop fell from her eye. It slowly
rolled across her cheek, finding its way to the ground. I could see it falling as if in slow motion. It landed in a puddle at her feet with a small splash.
The moment the tear hit the ground, a
deep howl sounded in the distance. It was a cry of sorrow. A
look of pain crossed her face, as if she felt the anguish in that sound.
The mood was somber. An immense sadness hung in the air.
Everything was quiet. The forest was still.
She turned, slowly walking back to the carriage. “We need to go.”
Without another word,
she stepped inside,
shut the door, and dis-
appeared into the shadows.
Alan McGill is an American author who lives in Northwestern Pennsylvania with a clowder of cats. Alan was close to his grandparents who grew up in the Great Depression. They were married young and remained together until his grandmother’s passing. His grandfather served in the Navy during WWII and was a gifted storyteller who weaved humorous tales about tough events. Alan grew up with these stories of right and wrong along with watching fictional heroes such as The Lone Ranger, Adam West’s Batman and Captain America. Heroes who stood up to bullies and protected those who could not protect themselves. This made an impression on the author to always do what was right in his own life and shaped his love for storytelling. He is a multi-genre author with his debut novel being A Cry in the Moon’s Light which is a horror romance and mystery series. As with all his books, one of the primary themes involves characters who strive to do the right thing regardless of the adversity they face. The second theme present in all his books is love. A pure and deep love that defeats all evil.
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Sounds like an interesting combination of horror and romance.
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