Dawn of
the Apocalypse
by E.S.P.
Release
Date: 08/09/13
Summary from Goodreads:
January 1,
2000.
May 21, 2011.
December 21, 2012
These are just a few of the
days humans prophesied as bringing catastrophic
events that would end the
world. We predicted nuclear warfare. Drastic climate
change. A call from God.
We were wrong.
Cue the gargoyle
invasion—laboratory bred mutants designed to slaughter humans.
When the government goes AWOL and
gargoyles are swarming by the hundreds, it's
up to the citizens of the
United States to regroup and save themselves.
Meet Cliff Matthews, a teenage
boy separated from his entire family with the
exception of his younger
sister, whom he is desperate to keep alive. Along the
quest to save their lives, he
encounters people who aren't all that they seem.
Everyday's a battle, but if he
can't trust his own species, where does that
leave his family?
And we can't forget the man who
may be willing to sacrifice Cliff's life, if it
means world domination.
In terms of doomsday, no one
could've seen this coming. The dawn of the
apocalypse…
Here is an excerpt...
It smelled like
smoke. Not the smoke you smelled when your dad left the burgers on the grill
too long or when you forgot you had that last batch of cookies in the oven.
This was a dark, penetrating, no nonsense smoke. The kind that made your throat
burn, fire singe the inner core of your chest, and slowly killed you from the
inside until you were a burning mass of nothing.
It was the kind
overtaking Cliff’s chest right now.
He was aware he
was conscious and in the back of his head, he knew it was probably an
intelligent idea to get some air into his lungs. But for some reason, he
couldn’t make his body arise from the sweet peacefulness that was the interface
between consciousness and unconsciousness, a cross between life and death.
In his mind, he
saw the smoke like a dark heavy being looming over him and slowly wrapping its
charcoal hands around his neck. It was squeezing and squeezing until his words
were a voiceless symphony and his body became limp and silent.
Cliff didn’t
know why, but he was okay with that.
He was aware of
the sound of something crackling, like twigs being stepped on or a wrapper
crumpled in the hand. And then the sound of people screaming—screaming for
help, screaming other people’s names.
Screaming for
God to save them.
There was
another person’s voice that was a lot closer to him, almost right in front of
him. It was light and sweet and feminine. It sounded desperate, pleading. Oh
how he wanted to see whose voice that belonged to. But it was so far away and
his eyes were so heavy. He was so very, very tired. He wanted to sleep forever.
"Please
wake up. Please." The voice was saying. "You have to get up. Please
get up."
Inside he wanted
to say, "I want to get up, I do, I just can’t, I need help." But his
throat was so dry and a large wave of suffocating heat was pressing down on
him, crushing his bones into ashes.
He felt his
spinning mind slow down, his heart beating erratically.
And then were
cool lips on his and cold air rushed into his mouth, through his body and into
his mind, telling him it was time to get up.
He felt his arms
being held and slowly pulled, and he didn’t fight it. But he could do nothing
to aid in the quest to pull his body up.
His back felt
like it had been ran over with a steam roller. It cried out in pain and he
wanted to return to the ground and let smoke cradle him as his heart slowed to
invisible beats.
His legs felt
like they'd been drained of blood. Pins and needles burned at his thighs. His
legs gave way. The arms hoisting him up prevented his crash to the ground.
Cliff tried
again, extending his legs to their full potential as he began to pick his feet
up one at a time, advancing towards wherever the freshest air was. He opened
his eyes, but found that it made no difference. All that hung in front of him
was thick blankets of smoke. He could hear the fire crackling in the
background. He knew the fire wouldn’t be as much of a peaceful death as the
smoke. He would burn from the inside and out. The fire would beat him senseless
than mercilessly eat up his body until it was unrecognizable dust.
And Cliff wasn’t
in the mood for that at the moment.
The arms were
still supporting him as they made their way though the room of darkness. He
kept fresh air on his mind to motivate him to keep going. Because as of right
now, smoke and oxygen were having a fight inside his lungs. And the smoke was
winning.
A burst of light
flashed past him as a spark fell from the ceiling. "Okay, a little faster
now," the voice urged forcefully, as the spark grew into a flame. Cliff’s
eyes focused on the space in front of him. Were those big glowing green eyes in
the smoke?
About
the Author
Being
the daughter of an accomplished author, E.S.P. grew up
listening to stories and
telling her own to classmates. After writing for
several years and even
publishing some short works, she finally decided to take
the plunge to write (plus
finish!)a full length novel. Thus, Dawn of the
Apocalypse was born. When she's
not writing, she's either reading books,
blogging at
whoistheserialreader.blogspot.com, or watching eighties
movies.
***GIVEAWAY***
E-book copy of
Dawn of the Apocalypse and $10
Amazon Gift Card
(INT)
Book Blitz hosted
by:
I want to read "Dawn Of The Apocalypse" because I love apocalypse stories and the excerpt makes this one sound really good!
ReplyDelete