Mysterious Monday is asking a question.

What do Dark Days have to do with Promise? They don't go together. Better yet, what Promise might Dark Days hold? Now you're asking the right question.


When thinking of Dark Days we all have our own lists. Some lists include dark, stormy days in the literal sense. Others would think of days of depression and gloom or the death of a loved one, still others would consider the days of unemployment and family turmoil. Maybe one would think of days of life changing illness or the betrayal of a spouse or friend.

I encourage you to take a moment to consider what you would consider a dark day.

Would any of the above be correct in relation to my upcoming release Dark Days of Promise? Most certainly, yes. Which one? Ah hah, one must read to find out. You've now been supplied with at least one clue to the mystery.

But what do any of these have to do with Promise? That depends entirely on the promise one is referring to. What Promise would you prefer? I like the idea that tomorrow will be better than today. For some, that may be promise enough. But for at least one of my characters there is just that promise. Wouldn't we all love to have a friends promise that tomorrow will be better than today fulfilled?

In Dark Days of Promise, Vicki, the main character is given such a promise by her closest friend in this opening scene.

Janine, my best friend and elderly neighbor, glanced at the house and back at me. "Vicki, it's going to be okay. Even the darkest of days hold a promise of good things. I'll be right here beside you."

But can an elderly friend deliver on such a promise? Read, then you decide.

Dark Days of Promise will be released for sale through Desert Breeze Publishing in September 2012. (Check counter at the right for how many days you have left to wait.)

Link to buy: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-345/Dark-Days-of-Promise/Detail.bok

Mysterious Monday Suspense with Deliverance from Evil

Excerpt by permission of Melanie Atkins:

Dempsey Spencer. Just as ugly dead as alive.

Tessa Doucet reeled back a step and stared at the flabby, tattooed body stretched out on Maurice's embalming table. One minute she'd been talking to Maurice about avoiding covering up the snake tattoo on the man's neck when she applied makeup to his set features, and the next she had glimpsed his face.

Her stepfather. The vile scum who'd taken away her innocence and gone to prison because of it. He'd been out of Angola for only a month and had already knocked on her door claiming he wanted to apologize, but she'd turned him away. That sick son of a bitch.

And now he's dead.

Relief splashed over Tessa in an icy wave. She drew in a steadying breath and glanced up at Maurice, a tall, angular, mahogany-skinned man with dexterous hands and a gentle manner.

He cocked a brow. "Is something wrong, Tessa?"

"Um... I-I don't think I can help you with this one."

"Unfortunately, you do not have a choice," he said in his musical Jamaican lilt, his dark eyes gleaming.

"His funeral is tomorrow, and I must leave in a few minutes to meet Ella at the airport. So I will need your help to complete the embalming process."

"Maurice--"

"What is the problem, child?"

"He's... he's..." She let the word trail away. If she refused to help him with Dempsey, she'd have to say why, and she wasn't sure she could reveal what her stepfather had done all those years ago. Besides, she didn't want Maurice to be late picking up Ella.

The mortician wiped his hands on a cotton cloth and tossed it beside the sink. "Go on."

"No. N-never mind." She lifted her chin. "I'll deal with it."

"Thank you, dear one." He winked at her and undid Dempsey's belt. "Ella will much appreciate my presence at baggage claim. She will have plenty of luggage to drag home."

"You should definitely be there to help her," Tessa said, her stomach roiling as Maurice adjusted the sheet covering her stepfather. "Is her mother feeling better?"

"Apparently, considering the amount of shopping they managed to do. Hopefully this will be Ella's last venture to Atlanta for a while."

"I hope so, for your sake."

"You do not think I make a good bachelor?" He laughed, his dulcet tones warming her blood. He retrieved the instrument tray from the counter by the sink and rolled it over to the embalming table. "Time to get started."

"All right." Nausea swirled in her stomach as she sidled closer. Maurice would first suture her stepfather's mouth closed, and then insert a mouth former to make him look natural. Dempsey's mottled face mocked her. She waved her hand in his direction and fixed her eyes on Maurice. "Wh-what happened to him? Why is his face so red?"

"I do not know. The coroner said he suffered a heart attack."

She nodded. Somehow, Dempsey dying of something as simple as a heart attack seemed wrong. He had lived a violent life... so didn't he deserve a violent death?

The warmth in her body disappeared the second Maurice turned away to wash his hands and don a pair of non-latex gloves. "I will embalm him and leave you to wash the body and do his hair and makeup. Can you handle that?"

"Yes." She glanced back at her stepfather, the man who had caused her so much pain. She didn't want to touch him, but she had no choice if she were going to help Maurice. Once she had finished embalming Dempsey, she would roll him to get him back into his shirt, coat, and pants, and then slather makeup on his ugly face and comb his scruffy halo of gray hair.

A river of disgust cascaded down her spine. The embalming room had always been a welcoming workspace, but today it seemed incredibly cold and sterile. Frightening, even. And all because of the monster on the table.

Melanie Atkins

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DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL--Coming in June--Desert Breeze Publishing
QUEST FOR JUSTICE--Available now!--Desert Breeze Publishing
BLOOD RITE--Available now!--Whiskey Creek Press

Blurb:


Tessa Doucet chose to go into mortuary science because the dead can't hurt her. Then a monster from her past turns up on her embalming table, and she's forced to confront the demon she thought she'd put to rest. Flummoxed by the case Tessa stirs up, Detective Cash Starkey finds himself falling for her, even though he swore to keep his distance. He doesn't want a relationship, especially not with a woman running from her past. Yet when Tessa's life is threatened, he runs into the fray, and together they defeat her demons and put the past behind them.

Buy link: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-301/Keller-County-Cops-Book/Detail.bok

http://melanieatkins.wordpress.com/

Launching Mysterious Mondays

A Legacy of Lies with Stephanie McGee.

It was cold.

Too cold.

The eerie silence of a moonless, starless night engulfed him.

Jim shivered. It had been high noon only a few minutes ago. Had he fallen asleep? He didn't remember being tired. He shook his head and tried to focus his groggy mind. He peered around cautiously. Where was his horse?

A rustling sound in the bushes startled him. His eyes darted to investigate. Nothing.

No, wait. There it was again. Off to the left. His eyes strained, searching for the slightest movement or shape. Something. Anything.

Silence.

He felt like a kid afraid of the dark.

Get a hold of yourself, man.

Fingers of fear teased along the back of his neck. The hairs stood on end. He shivered.

Where was that horse?

"Ciervo!" His voice sounded weak even to his own ears. He tried again. Now he was completely hoarse.

Swallowing the panic rising from the pit of his stomach, he took a cautious step forward.

He heard stirring in the woods behind him. Squirrels? He listened intently.

The noise came again. No. Definitely not a squirrel. Something was pacing in the woods. Deliberate. Stalking. Jim's mouth went dry.

Mountain lion.

His heart raced and he looked desperately around, scanning the darkness. Blackness blanketed the meadow. Jim hoped Ciervo hadn't wandered too far. He started to walk. Slowly. Calculating. He couldn't tell in what direction he moved.

His cell! He could use it as a light source. Jim's hand brushed at his hip. It wasn't there. He frowned. It always stayed on his belt. He never left the ranch without it.

Jim's eyes strained, but he could barely make out his surroundings. The farther he walked, the darker it got. His breathing came in quick, rapid intakes.

A shrill sound broke the silence. His heart leaped.

"Ciervo?"

Where was he? Was the mountain lion after him?

Hoof beats. Thank goodness.

They were pounding quicker than his rapidly drumming heart. A shadow appeared about thirty feet in front of him.

It wasn't his beloved horse. It looked like something galloping up from Hell.

The horrid creature ran wildly toward him. The cold air caused the hot breath to billow from its nostrils like a smoking dragon.

The monster's eyes looked like no earthly thing he had ever seen. The bulging orbs had a luminescent shine that came from deep behind the pupils. In the pitch black they glowed like a ghostly beacon.

The horse-shaped beast lowered his head. The creature was preparing to slam into him.

Jim threw himself out of its path and landed sharply on his hip. His right thigh slammed into a large, extruded boulder. Fire shot down his leg. Ignoring the pain, he jumped to his feet, eyes probing the darkness for the crazed brute. The ghostly version of Ciervo had vanished.

Despite the cold, he began to sweat. Jim felt eyes boring into him. Someone or something watched him. He was exposed. Unprepared. His heart hammered in his chest. His body refused to move.

Another sound. Different. It wasn't rustling limbs or bushes, and it certainly wasn't the horse's wild hoof beats. It was quiet, like a soft whisper. Crying? No, calling out for something.

He strained to catch the garbled words. The voice grew louder. More urgent. Still he couldn't make out the woeful tone. Then, as if his brain finished translating some cryptic code, the word became clear.

"James!"

Again. Louder this time. "James... James..." The voice rose and fell in the darkness. Its eerie sound slithered into his ears.

"Hello?" His voice echoed hoarsely. He held onto a feeble hope the voice came from someone nearby lost in the dark along with him. No one here knew him by that name. He stood holding his breath, listening.

Suddenly, a freight train of frigid air knocked him backward. Terrified, he dared not to move. The voice came again.

"You must help. Soon it will be too late--"

An insidious roar erupted around him. Hot, musty breath bathed Jim's face. He struggled backward. He couldn't quite make out the figure standing over him. The silhouette was enormous. Its shoulders spanned at least four feet. An odd-shaped head swayed from side-to side.

It growled.

Paralyzed with fear, Jim lay helpless. The creature rose to stand upright. Seven. Eight feet tall. Jim gasped for air. His feet tore into the soft ground, trying to gain footing. Desperately trying to get away.

The creature came crashing toward him.


Buy links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/A-Legacy-of-Lies-ebook/dp/B007K1LS58/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1332042156&sr=8-1

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-legacy-of-lies-stephenia-mcgee/1107713261?ean=2940014338950

Desert Breeze Publishing: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-273/A-Legacy-of-Lies/Detail.bok