The Light After the Orange

The Light After the Orange
Beverley J. Hall
(The Tundra Stone Series, #1)
Publication date: July 18th 2022
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Post-Apocalyptic


EVEN IN A DYING WORLD, IS SURVIVAL ENOUGH?

After the Orange and the catastrophic devastation of Earth, magic began to seep in—but will it help Alex Chegasa survive?

Hidden and protected by magic, she grew up embracing her gifts. After witnessing the only people she can call family being murdered, eighteen-year-old Alex must choose between her head and her heart in her search for a place to belong. But, her hunt for a home means having to hide her magic.

All the while, in the shadows, eight-hundred-year-old Fae Billey NicNevin, suffering from amnesia, is rediscovering her magic.

Are their fates intertwined?

What if the fantastical stories Alex’s mother told her as a child were true?

ALL MYTHS ARE BASED ON TRUTH

Sales Copy: Eighteen-year-old Alex Chegasa, one of the first generation to be raised on post-apocalyptic Earth, was taught to embrace her magical gifts.

After the Orange, as the planet burned, magic trickled in. The bombs that had wiped out most life ripped open the barrier between worlds. Can the next generation, connected to the magic, be the solution to mankind’s problems or are they destined to repeat the mistakes of their ancestors?

Did the Orange, the very thing that ravaged the planet, also provide the solution? Or is magic more than a coincidence?

While Alex searches for somewhere to belong, in Massachusetts, she questions if survival is enough when she comes to understand that magic, used by the wrong people, could be more dangerous than the power of the generations before her.

Meanwhile, in a parallel story, we meet eight-hundred-year-old Fae, Billey NicNevin. With a past she doesn’t remember, she struggles to fit into Nuadh Caled (New Scotland) as it rebuilds itself. When she meets a woman whose soul calls to her, will she find her missing piece or tumble into insanity?

Are their destinies connected?

WHAT IF THE FANTASTICAL STORIES FROM ALEX’S CHILDHOOD WERE TRUE?


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EXCERPT:

Loneliness ate me up from the inside, nibbling away at me and leaving an aching emptiness. I didn.t know what I missed or who I missed but knew, deep in the part of my soul that holds my intuition, there was a person-size hole nobody could fix, except for the one.

The person we all hunt for but so rarely find.
The person we were made to fit with.
The one imperfect, perfect, mismatch our soul longs for. *

The trees gathered around me and protected me from the breeze that grew and took on a new life. I rested against the rough bark of the largest tree, my rear now sitting into the roots that formed a seat in the ground. The tree, I almost believed, was shaped for me. Its branches wrapped around my tiny form as I snuggled among the roots. The wind grazed my cheek and I pulled my scarf around my face, desperate to stay here for every second possible.

The sound of the wind howling through the branches vibrated the leaves and created a voice I longed to understand. I closed my eyes, listening, imagining I could hear the voices of the trees. I felt my soul combine with the tree, and contentment that existed nowhere else in my life melted my anguish and pain.

My eyes shot open and I stared at where Geilis had been moments earlier. Empty space filled my view.
I was, again, alone.

Author Bio:

Beverley J. Hall was born in Kent, England, and raised in Scotland. Most of her childhood was spent with her nose in a book, and her love of stories was born.

While studying Art and Design, she discovered her love of storytelling, whether with paint, sculpture, fabric, or words.

After completing an MA in Creative Writing, she is now living her best life, writing stories at the seaside with her son, her granddaughter, and her cat Bertie.

Head over to TikTok, Instagram, or Twitter to join her overthinking and daydreaming (she’s still hoping for a pet dragon).

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok


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Liquid Foundations- Blitz

Liquid Foundations
Lisa Acerbo
(Hell in a Handbag, #3)
Publication date: April 13th 2022
Genres: New Adult, Post-Apocalyptic, Supernatural, Urban Fantasy, Young Adult, Zombies


Even the most solid foundation can be shaken.

No place is safe anymore, and I’m on the run from something new.

The putrid stink of zombies has been replaced by sulfur, feces, and wet dog. The High Point Inn has been abandoned, the landscape plagued by the unimaginable, animal-hybrids. Wolves and bears rise from the grave or maybe they never died. Sure, the hordes of undead humans are diminishing, but whatever lies in wait is faster, smarter, and spurned by the devil himself.

With Caleb, Lilly, and Eric at my side, I search for friends and suFictiorvivors. But the new evil has arrived.

I can’t run quick enough.

The wolves are here, and they’re hungry, not to mention cunning and cruel. Endless rains force my group underground and into a cave system. Lost in the interminable, pitch-black subterranean tunnels, I struggle to keep my sanity and my life. There’s only one place in the world that makes sense anymore, and that’s where my friends are.

If I can survive the dark and the zombie wolves, Hopewell, Maine, here I come.


Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Her eyes found the offending window, and the Streaker who launched through it. What had once been a squat man in a flannel shirt and jeans had turned into a distended corpse in blood-crusted rags, its bloated stomach exposed for all. The Streaker wore a wrinkled face with the consistency of a peach left too long in the sun. One arm hung limp, fingers gnawed away.

Did something do that to the Streaker, or did it eat away at its own flesh?

The monster staggered to the curb and stopped, pointing its chin to the sky, and taking in a breath through black, decayed nostrils. Its next meal had arrived, served up and ready to be consumed. Patches of skin had been torn away, exposing the rot that lived underneath. With a mewl, it lumbered at Jenna. The Streaker’s stare met her with singular intent. Eyes dead and unblinking, it closed the distance between them. She equaled food, and the risen dead was hungry.

In a practiced motion, Jenna released her bowie knife from the sheath on her belt. The monster stumbled over a garbage can in its path. Moving close, it reached out.

“What’s that smell?” Jenna ducked and swung low and hard. “Step back, foul one. God, you reek. Haven’t bathed in forever I’d guess. Personal hygiene not a priority these days?”

The Streaker growled in response and stretched a mottled, pus-clotted arm to grab her camo jacket.

“They’re slower than they used to be, Jenna, but don’t get too smug. The bite might not kill you, but the infection can.” Lilly tilted her head. “Need help?”

Eric moved closer, a similar knife in his hand. “Don’t worry. I got you covered.”

Jenna kicked at the creature. “Eric and I can handle this.”

The Streaker staggered back, but then surged forward again. “I’ll keep watch.” Lilly surveyed their surroundings. “Where there’s one, more to come.”

“Did you just make that up?” Eric asked.

“I like to rhyme,” Lilly said. “Appears clear.”

“One of your many talents.” Eric sent a smile her way and turned back to face the enemy.

“Come here, big boy.” Jenna took a step back into the center of the road where less debris meant less to trip over.

“Me or the monster?” Eric joked.

The Streaker trailed Jenna, the remains of its ragged flannel shirt fluttering open. Guts leaked out of its sliced chest cavity and slipped out of the tattered remains of clothing.

Jenna gagged. “There’s something no girl ever wants to see. Put it away and be a gentleman.”

“The gentlemanly thing to do would be to find dinner somewhere else.” Eric moved behind the creature. The undead mewled.

“That’s all you got for me?” She stepped back, hoisted the bowie blade, and slashed. The knife embedded itself between the creature’s eyes. She sliced higher. The blade released with a pucker. She stepped back. The zombie closed in. “Guess I missed my mark.” Jenna dodged the lumbering monster.

Eric’s knife slashed the Streaker’s back with a repeated, steady swing. Strips of skin and black goo melted to the ground.

Jenna sliced across the creature’s neck, stabbed, and drew her knife away, hearing the suck of release. She skidded back. “Why won’t it die?” Jenna eyed the creature for a weakness.

“Maybe you have bad aim.” Eric carved out new wounds, but the monster stretched its arm making it impossible to get close.

“Could be that it’s already dead.” Jenna frowned. “I have great aim and practice a lot more than you to make sure I never lose it.”

“I’m younger and more fit.”

“We’ll see about that.” Jenna moved behind the writhing creature. She hoped to catch it unaware, but the monster spun, its lifeless eyes meeting hers. Jenna jumped back and huffed out a breath. “So much for the element of surprise.” She’d better practice those battle skills a few more hours a day.

“What’s the plan?” Eric sidestepped to refocus the Streaker’s attention on him. “More firepower? Bring out the big guns?”

“Don’t want to attract more.”

Eric scooted close and then backed away. “I’ll draw its attention. You finish it from the rear.”

“Sounds like a firm plan.”

“Not in this case.”

Jenna eyed the undead. “True. Very saggy from this view.”

“Get on with it, you two.” Lilly waved a hand at them. “I don’t want to hang around here any longer than I have to.”

Author Bio:

Lisa Acerbo is a high school teacher and adjunct faculty at a local community college. She lives in Connecticut with her husband, daughters, two dogs, and horse. When not writing, she mountain bikes, hikes, and fosters dogs.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram


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