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Blood Moon: Thrillers and Tales of Terror Paperback – December 24, 2009
"Rebound" by Kwame Alexander
Don't miss best-selling author Kwame Alexander's "Rebound," a new companion novel to his Newbery Award-winner, "The Crossover,"" illustrated with striking graphic novel panels. Pre-order today
Praise for Bryan Cassiday's book of horror stories Helter Skelter:
"Swift, thoughtful, and highly entertaining, his stories will expose true monsters for what they really are . . . For any fan of horror stories, very much recommended."--Midwest Book Review
From the Publisher
Excerpted from Blood Moon: Thrillers and Tales of Terror. Copyright 2009 by Bryan Cassiday. All rights reserved. The following excerpt is from the story "I Kill for Your Blood" in Blood Moon.
Dirk Kovic gently bent Phoebe's curvaceous white neck and with his hand nudged the coiling blonde locks of her hair away from her neck, baring its white flesh further. The pulsing curvy flesh, like ripe fruit ready for picking, enticed him.
Phoebe's wide cornflower blue eyes dreamy, she moaned through her pink bow lips and acquiesced to his overtures. She tilted her neck toward him, yielding herself to his desire.
He sank his teeth deep into her rhythmically pulsating jugular. She gasped and shuddered, surrendering to his overpowering arms, his overpowering desire.
Kovic felt the hot spurt of her blood as it spouted into his mouth quenching his importunate thirst.
* * * * *
He lusted for her life, even though he was not of her kind. He was one of the undead.
He was known as many things--vampire, ghoul, the Antichrist, the undead, the evil one. To those not undead, he wore evil and menace around him like a midnight mantle.
And yet, Kovic knew, he was not evil. He could not be evil, for he was beyond good and evil, a la Nietzsche, as he had ceased living.
He had eschewed love in the name of knowledge and power.
As much as he had forsaken love, he had not forsaken lust. He needed the hot sensation of a beautiful woman's blood in his mouth streaming down his ever-parched throat slaking his thirst, for a few moments anyway, until his next victim.
The undying thirst for female blood never left him. The feel of her voluptuous body, throbbing with her lifeblood, obsessed him.
And he knew, deep in his dead heart, that women desired to be plucked and destroyed by him, crushed like rose petals with his iron heel, as much as he desired their lives and their destruction.
He sucked Phoebe's blood for a few more minutes, draining her body of its ten pints of blood in no time.
He gazed down at her with his scalding black eyes. She was already dead, her beautiful body slumping lifeless in his arms.
He dropped her in disgust. As a corpse she held no interest for him.
Some of her blood had gotten into his ear. He swabbed his ear out with his pinky and sucked the blood off it.
He picked up his black gym bag, unzipped it, and withdrew a wooden stake and hammer.
He arranged Phoebe's corpse on her back. He aimed the tapered point of the stake at her chest and, hammer in hand, drove the stake into her heart.
Her dead body arched. A result of her nerves, decided Kovic. Blood did not spurt out, for she had none inside her.
He stuffed the hammer back into his gym bag and strutted away.
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