From the pages of A.F. Stewart
Now, please, enter into my little House of Horrors!
First, I’d like to wish everyone a Happy Indie Pride Day!
And a Happy Canada Day!
And to celebrate Canada Day, here’s my free flash fiction story, Even the Paranormal Play Sports: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/113780
Now for introductions:
I’m A. F. Stewart, and I write dark, scary tales that make little shivers run up your spine. For the next hour, expect a few chills, some creepy creatures, and things that go bump in the night.
To start us off, here’s a listing of some of my horror books and stories:
[bookcover:Killers and Demons II: They Return|23008289] [bookcover:Killers and Demons|11489464] [bookcover:Gothic Cavalcade|30756257] [bookcover:Chronicles of the Undead|6049186] [bookcover:Once Upon a Dark and Eerie…|10231479] [bookcover:Beyond the Wail: 12 Grave Tales of Love and Loss|26855747]
My books are available on Amazon, Smashwords, iTunes, Barnes and Noble, and Kobo
You can find a listing of buy links on my website: https://afallonblog.wordpress.com/books/
You can also find me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/afstewartauthor
And Twitter: https://twitter.com/scribe77
My horror romance hybrid, Gothic Cavalcade, has a new cover!
It’s also half-price for 99 cents over on Smashwords! You can download it here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/240833
Killers and Demons II: They Return is also part of the Brain to Books Indie Pride Day Book Blast. Check out that post here: https://www.angelabchrysler.com/2016-book-blast-a-f-stewart/
The book is on sale for half-price on Smashwords (Just use the coupon code listed on the book page). Killer and Demons II: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/466078
And the first book in the series, Killers and Demons is free: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/59000
And here are the excerpts:
Here’ a short excerpt from the story Alice in the Basement from Killers and Demons II
I’m Alice, and today’s my birthday. I’m six.
I wanted a party, but I didn’t get one.
My daddy’s mad at me. My mommy too. Again.
They say I was bad. That I did something horrible.
I don’t think I did a bad thing, but nobody tells Daddy he’s wrong.
He shook me and hit me on my bottom. It hurt, but I didn’t cry. I never cry when he spanks me.
He made me go into the basement with him and he locked me in the small, dark room. I don’t like the small, dark room. It smells funny.
Daddy uses it to punish me anyways.
© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved
Another excerpt from Killers and Demons II:
Hunting
Wade walked through the seedy parking lot, the shadows lengthening with the setting sun. Glass scattered the ground from broken streetlights, and he smiled; he liked the dark. Figures moved next to one of the cars, and he heard a man yelling for help. Not an uncommon occurrence in this neighbourhood, but Wade stopped, curious.
He watched two men punch and hit a third, then shove him to the asphalt. They kicked their victim repeatedly as he covered his head and begged them to stop. When they tired of their sport, they stole his wallet, cell phone, and watch, then ran off, laughing.
Wade moved to the injured man, and stood looking down at him. Wade saw the quality suit he wore, the nice haircut, the leather shoes. He hated people who dressed like that.
“You get lost or something? The likes of you down in this neighbourhood?”
The man reached out a bruised and broken hand.
“Help me. Call 911.”
Wade tilted his head. “No. I don’t think I will.”
© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved
Here a snippet from my WIP steampunk horror novel, The Duke’s Assassin. In this scene the main character, the vampire Gideon, is out for some night air…
Standing in the midnight shadows, I inhaled a deep, protracted breath, drinking in the pungent scent of the city night. The air wafted rich in the aroma of second-hand life, swirling in from the salt crusted waterfront and past the soot silted buildings. A hint of over ripe fish mixed with gear grease, and cheap perfume danced with sweat, while the pong of urine overlaid the lingering reek of burned meat and spilled ale. Moreover, roosting atop it all, lazed a hint of chimney smoke.
I relaxed, listening to the ambient noise, and watched the street. A pack of rowdy soldiers passed, laughing, stumbling, stinking of beer. They never noticed me. I heard the clink of coins in someone’s pocket, and the scrape of metal wheels on the cobblestones in the adjacent lane. From three streets over, came rapid, heavy breathing, but alas, not accompanied by the smell of blood. I let my senses free, as my thoughts churned.
