Spring Sale & Pre-Order News

Taking a break from writing today to tell everyone that until Sunday, April 12th, the first Covenant book, The Mirror of Souls, is on sale across all venues. Mostly it's listed at 99¢, though there might be a slightly higher price on Google Play. Below is the list of venues. Just click on the name to obtain your copy:

Amazon
Amazon UK
Kobo
Barnes & Noble
Google Play

Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that the 2nd book in the series, The Chalice of Sorrows, is currently available for pre-order on Amazon, with a firm release date of June 20th. Here's the cover:

For those who're curious...yes, that's Jordan!

Unfortunately, gaining readership for this series has proven a bit difficult. With this in mind, I'm offering up this second book for the same 99¢ that the first book is on sale for. The only difference being, this book will be 99¢ UNTIL THE DATE OF PUBLICATION!  After that, however, it will be raised to the standard price of $3.99.

In other words, for the next six days, you can get both these books for less than two bucks. And for the next two-plus months, you can pre-order the second book for less than a dollar. It's a win-win all around, people!

Here's the link to the pre-order: THE CHALICE OF SORROWS

And the blurb:

Now that the cat’s out of the bag, the other secrets regarding Jacqueline Talbot’s past—and future—begin to come clear. It’s a lot for a sixteen-year-old girl to deal with, especially when she’s told that the fate of the world rests on her shoulders. 

Jacqueline now must prepare herself to take on the rest of the Trials; the only problem is, no one’s really sure what they are. Not even her aunt, who seems to know a little too much about everything. 

At least she has her support system to help her through it all. But that system is as fragile as everything else in Jacqueline’s troubled life. Just one small misstep and it could all be over…for everyone.

So peace, everyone, and happy reading!

RJD

Review: Cameo and the Highwayman by Dawn McCullough-White

Rating: 4.8 out of 5

I love it when a writer gets it. When you read an early piece, enjoy it greatly, yet think they could do better. Then you pick up their next book, and it improves on the first tenfold. Most things you would’ve changed have been altered. The emotion runs higher than ever. It’s exhilarating.

It is also how I felt reading Cameo and the Highwayman by Dawn McCullough-White.

The story picks up where Cameo the Assassin leaves off, with Cameo (the undead assassin), Black Opal (the gun-toting, rapier-swinging dandy of a highwayman) and Kyrian (the son of a priest who the previous two had been charged with protecting) heading for the island kingdom of Shandow. They had lost their friends and fellow travels in the first book, killed by a fellow assassin named Jude (who they’ve left for dead) and Cameo’s vampire master, Haffef.

Once arriving in Shandow, Cameo is approached by another vampire, Edel, who also has Haffef to thank (or curse) for his current state. Edel, seeking company after centuries of loneliness, enthralls Cameo and holds her captive in his home – a magically concealed partition of the mansion belonging to Shandow’s royal family. This leaves Opal and Kyrian alone, and gives Cameo ample time to sit with her thoughts, isolated from everyone, and reflect upon the situation her life (or un-life) has lead her to.

And this, readers, is where the book does more than shine.

Just as in the first book, Cameo remains a metaphor for the abused woman. However, whereas in Cameo the Assassin she takes a back seat to other, more fleshed-out and interesting characters, in this one she takes center stage. She bemoans her loss of humanity. She hates both what she’s become and what she might someday be. She wants love – longs for it – and yet finds it hard to give in to that most personal of emotion. She is damaged, and in some ways she thinks that to show affection to another would be to pass that emotional mutilation on to them.

Which is what makes the relationship between she and Black Opal so intriguing. Theirs is a relationship rooted in base needs – the need for companionship, the need to know that no matter how much of a horror they might have become, there is someone else who shares their pain. Just the simple act of looking in the mirror proves this out. Cameo does so, and she sees a woman scarred, both physically and emotionally, by her past. And Opal, with his smallpox scars and dead eye, echoes as such. And yet, when they look at each other, neither notices the faults. All they see is the chance for camaraderie and sensuality – which Opal is more than willing to give, though Cameo needs a bit more convincing. She is still running away from her past, and starts to make great strides towards remedying this, though at the end it is proven how much internal growth she still has to make. This being said, the scenes of their intimacy are both subtle and heartbreaking.

Speaking of Opal, he is the subject of the book’s second major theme, and this one I found even more captivating than the burgeoning love between two broken people. It seems he’s done some horrible things in his past – actions whose consequences are wide-reaching enough to affect Cameo, herself. He has lived his life trying to cover up his deeds, and when they are revealed, he fears the undead woman he loves will no longer want him. Interestingly enough, this is his major concern. He ends up facing death, and all he can think about is how much the disclosure of his deeds will affect her. It’s beautiful, and it rings true to life. I know I’ve thought this way when contemplating some of my past regressions. Sometimes, the big picture is dwarfed by the smaller, more intimate one.

This is where the story becomes surprising – though I guess it shouldn’t be. Cameo finds out about these dastardly exploits, and she doesn’t care. To her, Opal isn’t the man he’d been. He’s become something new, something she doesn’t want taken away from her. This level of forgiveness is intense in its scope, and begs the question: Are we defined by our past, and can we ever make amends?

The answer might not be so simple. In the story, we see that Opal is still haunted mentally by his perceived misdeeds, and it is made all the more painful by the fact these actions were made with honorable intent. It’s the results that were unfortunate. So how can his past be absolved if he can’t absolve himself? This is the dichotomy facing all the characters, and also shows their inherent blindness. Cameo, for her part, forgives him, and yet she, too, tortures herself for the things she’s done. It’s fascinating, and a great psychological study. I’m not sure if the author has a background in this sort of thing, but the way the story reads, the way the character’s motivations are revealed, says that if she hasn’t, she is surely an extremely bright storyteller. It would take one to pull something like this off.

The writing style is brisk and fast-paced. I finished the book in less than two days. Chapters flow into each other beautifully. If I have one complaint – and this is something I feel a duty to reveal – it’s that there is still a lot of head-hopping. To be honest, it surprisingly didn’t bother me in the slightest this time (probably because the story is so expertly crafted and flows without a hitch), but I need to be fair and consistent here. However, there are no in-paragraph switches as far as I could tell, so the point loss is minimal.

That small glitch aside, this is a brilliant book, one of the five best I’ve read since starting this review blog. As a reader, I tend to gravitate more to emotional threads than anything else, and there were a few times over the course of reading Cameo and the Highwayman that I started to get teary-eyed. So bravo there.

This is an excellent novel, one that deserves to be read. It’s meaningful and has something important and revealing to say. And yet I’ve read far less skillfully crafted novels that outsell it. Perhaps this is simply a matter of exposure. Who knows. It is my hope, however, that people will read this review and jump at the chance to read this book – and the first one, as well. They’re both worth the miniscule amount of money it would take to buy them.

Dawn McCullough-White is a fresh face in literature, one that I hope succeeds. It’s time we recognize those who have something interesting to say and push their books to the forefront. This reviewer, for one, would find his life a lot less full complete if I hadn’t read her work.

Plot - 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 8

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 48/50 (4.8/5)

Purchase Cameo and the Highwayman for the Amazon Kindle

Review: 33 A.D. by David McAfee

Rating: 4.5 out of 5

If one were to take the story of the crucifixion and combine it with vampires, you would most likely get one of the most clichéd stories imaginable. I’ve read quite a few tales regarding this very setup – all in short story format, mind you – and they all were variations on a few different plots. Either Jesus himself is a vampire, hence his rising from the dead, or he becomes Jesus Christ Action Star, staking those pesky vamps left and right. These are unimaginative stories. They either don’t do anything new with the characters or they pervert them to where they’re no longer viable. And also, there tends to be a trend towards using these stories as a promotion or criticism of Christianity. Never have I seen a story that took the setting of Christ’s last days and used them as a framework. In other words, taking the setting and telling a story around that setting to create a complete, comprehensive, and entertaining work.

Never, that is, until I read 33 A.D. This was a book that I loved so much that I can come to only one conclusion about its author:

I have seen the new face of horror, and it resides beneath the glossy, waxed dome of David McAfee.

Mr. McAfee has done the (virtually) impossible. He’s taken an iconic figure and backdrop, stayed true to their roots in legend, and layered a very human tale that deals with the supernatural over it. This book is bloody, brutal, depressing, and also moral…however, that morality doesn’t overwhelm the reader, as ethical writing is wont to do. Instead it makes us think, both about what we feel about our own past misdeeds and the power each of us holds within us to forgive ourselves.

The two most important characters in 33 A.D. are Theron, a vampire assassin who’s lived for more than nine-hundred years, and Taras, a golden-haired Roman Legionary (think a primitive version of the Secret Service) whose greatest desire is to skip out of Jerusalem with Mary, his forbidden Jewish lover, and start a family. Although there are many other characters (including Marcus, the Centurion, whose nobility and strength are measured against his weak willpower, making him a fantastic creation), this is ostensibly their story.

Theron, after killing a renegade vampire at the beginning of the novel, is saddled with the task of executing Jesus, as the Nazarene and his ability to heighten the faith of those around him is dangerous to the Bachiyr (Vampiric) Council of 13. This proves to be an arduous undertaking becaue Theron, as a vampire, cannot get close enough to a man with such strong beliefs. Because of this, he goes about framing the supposed prophet, for all intents and purposes setting in motion the events that lead to Jesus’ demise.

Taras, on the other hand, is a loyal and capable soldier. He is strong, both in beliefs and in physicality. He, as well as every other Roman, is turned against the Nazarene due to Theron’s actions.

And this is where the meat of the novel lies. Theron and Taras are different characters, and yet they are virtual mirror images of each other. One could imagine that Theron, when he was still human oh so long ago, might have been virtually identical to the Roman he now calls adversary. It’s a brilliant piece of writing, and I think the similarity of their names is meant for the reader to realize that, when you cut down to the core, they aren’t as different as they think they are. In this way, the entire book is about the choices and the aforementioned need to forgive oneself. Theron cannot. He’s been around too long, deviated too much, to will a change, even though he can. No matter how much strength he possesses, he will always be weak. Likewise Taras, towards the end, when confronted with a decision that will define the rest of his life, is similarly frail. This speaks to the humanity in both of them. Even Theron, though immortal, is inexorably human, and it is that human frailty that leads to his ultimate descent into madness. And when Jesus “rises” from the grave, that event is mirrored by the rebirths, in different ways, of the two main characters. In other words, you can draw a parallel between all three, the monster, the hero, and the prophet, and come out on the other side thinking they’re all quite analogous. In writing it this way, the author is telling us that at our core we’re all the same, all fallible, and it’s up to us – and ONLY us – to change.

The subject of religion, when used in fiction, is a slippery slope to climb. It can come off as preachy or ostentatious, and while a core Christian might find that intriguing, my guess is that the majority of readers in no way want to be sermonized to. This is yet another way that McAfee did an unbelievable job. He succeeded in taking the base values of the sermons of Jesus – his theories of love, forgiveness, and togetherness – and took away the devout fanaticism that can curtail lesser works. In this novel Jesus is a loveable, though ethereally strong, hippie. The scenes in which he is involved are tastefully done, subtle, and sublime. He is not a man of action, but one of introspection, tenderness, and amnesty. He never gives up hope for those he runs across, and in the reflection of that faith in others lays the refraction of his words. It causes those not ready to hear them to back away.

I’m sure some, especially those who aren’t Christian, may look upon this book and think it distasteful. It is not. I, myself, am strictly anti-religious. Whereas I do have faith, I understand the dangers of dogmatic belief and have no desire to pursue it. However, and this is important, McAfee does NOT preach. He uses the beliefs of New Testament Christianity as a tool, not a be-all-end-all, because I think most would admit that the idea of love, community, and mercy are something to strive for. In other words, much like in AA, he takes what works and leaves the rest. You will find no heavy-handedness here.

Okay, one last thing. Because I’m anal and certain facts never escape my attention, I have to mention the only problem I had with this book. In one scene, a character is described as “short, only five-and-a-half feet tall.” The problem is, the average height of a Roman at that time was barely five feet even. Not a huge gaffe, but one that I noticed, and I wouldn’t be pretentious old me if I didn’t point it out.

That being said, it’s a tiny little issue that doesn’t take away the fact that this is a fantastic and beautifully written novel. There is death and rebirth, betrayal and loyalty, hope and despair, and ultimately sorrow. We see where the characters end up, and we feel sorry for them. It’s well worth the read, and I have to admit that I did cry more than once while sitting on the beach reading it. For me, it is the best vampire novel to come out since “The Vampire Lestat” hit the shelves a quarter century ago. And I LOVED that book.

You get a heartfelt recommendation from me, people. Go get it. Make David McAfee a success. We should all want to read more of what he has to offer.

Available at Amazon in

Paperback

or

Amazon Kindle

Plot - 10

Characters - 7

Voice - 10

Execution - 8

Personal Enjoyment - 10

Overall - 45/50 (4.5/5)