Ellysian
Press is pleased to announce the release of Moth
by Sean T. Poindexter on
August 5, 2014. The editor is Jen Ryan and cover art
is by Jeremy Lovett.
Moth
By
Sean T. Poindexter
About the Book
Social worker Max Hollingsworth is no stranger to monsters. Supernatural or human, he's faced all kinds. But when he's called upon to investigate a missing child, he may have met his match.
Children are vanishing, not just from the streets, but from their parents' memories. Max's investigation leads him to a gang of neo-Nazi vampires running a child slavery ring. There, he comes face to face with the deadliest enemy he's ever met, their charismatic and powerful leader Boone.
Running low on hope and options to find the missing children, Max turns to his friends for help. But even they aren't enough. Forced to face the darkness of his own past, Max forges an alliance with the least likely ally of all. An enemy whose cruelty was almost his end, and haunts him still.
Rated 18+ for langauge, vioelnce and sexual content.
Buy Links:
Moth is available at these
retailers:
Amazon.com Print - http://www.amazon.com/Moth-Hollingsworth-Paranormal-Mystery-Volume/dp/1941637000/
Createspace Print - https://www.createspace.com/4929441
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/464362
Be sure to enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway below!
Author Sean T. Poindexter
About the Author
Though born in Mesa, Arizona, Sean has spent most of his life in Missouri. After college, Sean went into social and investigative work, primarily with disabled adults and seniors. Sean’s background in sociology, criminology, and philosophy and his experience as an investigator for the State of Missouri, are heavy influences in his writing.
While Sean has been writing most of his life, he did not consider doing so professionally until he was inspired by a terrible vampire movie. During the film, Sean amused himself by imagining the vampires being attacked by a dragon. His imagination resulted in his series, The Dragon’s Blood Chronicles, featuring dragons and vampires.
Sean enjoys watching and reading science fiction, fantasy, horror, and thrillers. His hobbies include playing Xbox, fantasy role playing games and collecting firearms.
Moth is Book 1 of The Max Hollingsworth Paranormal Mysteries. Sean's other books include The Shadow of Tiamet and The Will of the Darkest One, both from The Dragon’s Blood Chronicles.
Praise for Moth
"Brutal honesty and raw emotion bleeds on every page as Max
survives his challenges only because he is too busy to stop for death."
Wendy Russo, author January Black
“Moth delves into the darkest depths of child exploitation in America,
while seamlessly blending in a hidden underworld of supernatural nasties. An
intense genre-bender of urban fantasy, horror, thriller, mystery-suspense, with
a splatter of steamy, erotica.” Travis Luedke, author The Nightlife series
Interview:
Personal favs:
Personal favs:
Drink – Sarsaparilla
Food – Burritos
Vacation –
Staying home
TV show –The
Venture Bros.
Movie – Inherit
the Wind
Animal –Cat
Sport – Star Trek
Book - Any
collected works of HP Lovecraft or
Robert E. Howard.
Robert E. Howard.
Current book or
project you’re working on: Right
now I'm working on something different from what I've written in the past. It's
a post-apocalyptic urban fantasy called Welcome
to Babylon.
What was the
inspiration for your novel?
Max was such an
intriguing character to write about in my first two books I simply had to give
him his own series. Writing about Max gave me an opportunity to work on
something darker, more urban and sinister than my previous two works.
Please share
three interesting facts about your book which are not covered in the synopsis.
1) One of the
sub-plots is based on real events told to me by a retired social worker.
2) In one scene,
Max and his boss engage in some banter about actors. Max mentions an actor named
Larry Poindexter. Larry is a friend of mine and distant relation.
3) The gun Max
uses at the end of the book (the Glock 26) is an exact copy of a pistol I owned
at the time I was writing it...I've since sold it.
Who is the most
complex character from your current novel?
Definitely Max.
He doesn't seem to enjoy what he does very much, but is willing to risk his
life to get it done. He cares deeply for people in his life, but he doesn't
seem to appreciate the effect his actions have on them. He is willing to do
absolutely terrible things so long as the end is justified, and it never seems
to taint or damage him. He has an unlimited capacity to absorb the darkness in
the world around him without ever becoming a victim to it. It's as though he
could stare into the abyss forever and never worry about what stares back into
him.
Are there any
characters in your book that remind you of yourself?
Again, Max. He
and I share a lot of the same bad qualities: we're both more than a little
manipulative and self-destructive.
If you could pick
any well known or famous author to review your book who would you pick and why?
Mark Lawrence. I
have just always enjoyed his reviews.
What, who, and
when were you first inspired you to write?
I don't know.
I've just always been writing for as long as I could. Even when I was very
little.
Genre/Author/Reader:
What genre does
your book fall into?
I usually refer
to it as a Paranormal mystery.
What is the first
book you remember reading, that affected how you thought or felt about
something?
I used to have
this graphic novel version of the Bible that I read a lot as a kid. I preferred
the Old Testament, which was full of epic battles and smiting and all that.
Which three
authors have inspired you the most, and why?
1)HP Lovecraft -
Because no one made the unknown so frightening and no one has done it better
since.
2)Robert E.
Howard - Epic battles and complex protagonists.
3) George RR
Martin - I couldn't ever hope to match his world-building power.
Have you ever read
a book you couldn’t finish reading?
Yes. I don't
remember any off hand but I've started a few books I couldn't finish.
Do you read a
book, while you are writing a book?
Sometimes.
The process:
How many books
have you written? Which book is your favourite and why?
Ten so far. My
favourite is probably the yet unpublished (but contracted) third book in the
Dragon's Blood Chronicles, The Elohim
Legacy.
Is there anything
that helps get you in the mood to write?
The music I
listen to helps. Sometimes reading something by someone else inspires me to
write.
What were three
challenges you faced when writing your book?
1) Working full
time as a social worker.
2) Getting enough
sleep, as I was often up late writing.
3) Suppressing my
own perfectionism and just getting the story on paper.
What lessons have
you learned as an aspiring writer?
Be patient. Be
very, very patient.
Do you ever
experience writer’s block? If so what helps you to ‘overcome’?
This is a tough
one. I don't really have a way to overcome writer's block other than to wait it
out.
What is the most
important thing you’ve learned, either in the self-publishing or traditional
publisher, route?
Make sure that
whatever publisher you sign with is going to work with you to promote your work
and get it out there. Your success should be their success.
How long does it
usually take for you to complete a book?
I've finished one
in as little as two months to as long as a year and a half.
Do you have any
ideas for your book and Hollywood? Actors, directors, music.
I'd like to see
Moth adapted as a television show on HBO or Showtime.
Which book to
movie conversion is your favourite?
A Game of
Thrones, no doubt about it.
Excerpt from Moth -
Chapter 1
Chapter One
“Don’t you usually come in pairs?”
Officer Unruh smiled and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Max grinned. “You just get out?”
“Yes, sir. US Marines.”
“Ah…yeah, I recognize the haircut.” It wasn’t just that. Max
stood a foot over him at six feet, but the patrolman made up for it with broad
arms and a big chest. He didn’t look like he needed a partner. And then there
was this “sir” business…
“Have you been doing this long?”
“I’ve been with the Joplin PD for five months. And you?”
Max drummed his fingers on the bag hanging from his
shoulder. “I’ve been a social worker long enough to know which house on this
street we’re going to, even without looking at the numbers.” It was the one
without siding, just bare insulation boards nailed to the outer wall.
“Yes, sir.”
Max didn’t resent Unruh’s presence; he just didn’t think it
was necessary. He’d taken cops with him lots of times, and on a few of those
instances, it turned out he’d needed them. But Brian insisted the workers take
cops with them anytime an allegation of drugs was involved in a hotline. It
irritated him for a number of reasons, not the least of which happened to be
that Brian’s job used to be his.
That was another story…
The lawn was overgrown and the wooden porch sagged, but they
arrived at the door without incident. Max knew the drill. The burly young
policeman stepped to the side of the locked screen door and knocked. A few
seconds later, an interior door opened and a man’s face appeared behind the
filthy fly screen. Max had been expecting a woman.
“Is Donna here?” The man looked at Max with bulging,
bloodshot eyes that darted back to the cop as though expecting a friendlier
face. Whatever look Unruh gave, it wasn’t what he’d hoped. He returned to Max,
who repeated the question.
“She’s not here.”
It was eight thirty in the morning, so if she worked she
might have been there. Max didn’t have employer information for the mother.
Also, he kind of doubted she had a job.
Unruh rattled the latch a bit, but it didn’t budge. “Sir,
could you unlock the door please?”
“What’s this about?”
Max stepped to the screen and held up his plastic ID badge.
It said Max Hollingsworth in big letters under a rather unflattering picture of
him. The bulging-eyed man looked at the ID then back up at Max. He looked
surprised. He shouldn’t have been.
“Sir,” repeated Unruh, “Could you unlock the door please?”
He looked back to Unruh and nodded. After a click, the door
swung open. Max and the patrolman entered the home.
The look on Unruh’s face implied disgust. Max grinned, he
really hadn’t been doing this long. The home was a mess, but Max had seen
worse—far worse. In a very short time, so would Unruh. Places like this would
become normal for him. Max remembered when this kind of mess would have bothered
him, too.
The term “shithole” was tossed around so much, but it wasn’t
that bad. The awkwardly rectangular living room smelled like dog and had a few
plastic microwave food boats piled on an old coffee table. Despite the smell,
there was no dog in sight. The most expensive piece of furniture in the room,
probably the house, was a flat screen television. It was paused on an image of
a video console football game. The wireless controller rested on a ratty couch
covered by a slightly less ratty blanket.
“Donna’s sleeping—”
“You said Donna wasn’t here.” Max glanced over his shoulder.
The man wore dirty grey boxer shorts and a plaid robe. He’d forgone the
courtesy of a shirt, so his guests were treated to ribs poking through the
mole-speckled, pasty skin of a man who rarely left the house.
“Yeah,” he replied with a dirty chuckle. “I saw the cop and
said that.” He looked at Unruh like he thought the cop would be amused. The cop
was not, so he looked away.
Max produced a small notebook and pen from the bag hanging
at his side. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jim…I live with Donna.”
“You sleep on the couch?” He gestured to it. Jim shook his
head.
“Only in the day.”
Must be nice, Max thought, sleeping in the day. “You work
nights, then?” Max had perfected the art of over-tact, being a complete dick
without getting punched. The people he dealt with didn’t tend to get subtlety.
Unruh’s grin showed he got it—the cops usually did. They both knew the answer
already.
“Naw, I’m what you’d call unemployed.”
He thought about asking him to elaborate: What exactly do
you mean by, unemployed, sir? But that might be overdoing it. White trash will
only tolerate so much subtle condescension.
“Would you call Donna unemployed?” Max asked, after
collecting pedigree information; Jim’s last name, date of birth, social
security number. Max was always surprised when people gave all that to him,
especially the social security number.
“No, she works at Macey’s.” That was not to be confused with
Macy’s, the retail giant. Macey’s was a chain of convenience stores/gas
stations. Joplin had ninety of them or something.
“Is Madolla in her room?”
“No, she sleeps downstairs.”
Max crooked an eye. “Donna or Madolla?”
“Madolla. She’s around the corner, in the kitchen.”
Max stopped writing. “The baby sleeps in the kitchen?” He
looked at the entrance to the dining room. Presumably the kitchen was beyond
that, behind the stairs.
“The baby keeps us up if she’s in the room.”
“Yeah, they’ll do that.”
Max walked around the corner. The stairs were wooden and
covered with peeling brown paint. A few of them were cracked. They ended in a
carpeted second floor. The dining room lacked a table, and the kitchen beyond
was full of dirty dishes and flies. A few feet from a neglected refrigerator
sat a playpen, apparently doing double-duty as a baby bed.
“Let me get Donna’s ass out of bed…”
Unruh stepped in from of Jim as he tried to leave.
“Not just yet.” Max approached the pen. Jim followed, but
Unruh stopped him at the dining room entrance.
“I think Donna should be here, I can’t just let anyone see
her kid you know—”
“I’m not ‘just anyone’...I work for the State.”
“She’s sleeping.” He seemed to be gauging his chances of
darting past Unruh without being tackled…or perhaps his odds of survival if it
occurred. He chose the prudent path. “If you wake her up, Donna’ll be pissed.
She cries a lot.”
“They’ll do that, too.”
“She was crying for like, hours last night.”
Aside from the slight dirty-diaper smell, Madolla and her
pen were clean and well taken care of. The report said she was six months old,
but she looked like a newborn. She was lying on her belly, still and peaceful.
Max started to smile…
“She was bawling all night, until about four this morning.”
“When was the last time you or Donna checked her?” Max
lowered his hand into the pen and pressed his fingers to her little scalp.
“Checked her?”
“To see why she was crying.”
“I turned up the TV and she cried herself out.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When did she stop crying?”
Jim scratched his scalp through greasy brown hair. “Like
three or something. It usually takes longer.”
Max withdrew his hand from the pen and wrote all that down.
The tap of pen on paper competed evenly with the soft hum of the refrigerator
condenser.
“Officer Unruh, can you call an ambulance please?”
Jim’s eyes widened. “Ambulance?”
Unruh didn’t ask any questions. The distraught look on his
face showed he didn’t need to. Unruh stepped away from Jim to the living room
and pressed the button on his shoulder communicator.
“Oh, shit… Should I wake Donna?” Jim stepped closer to Max
so he didn’t interrupt the stream of ambulance-summoning cop jargon.
“That would be a good idea,” Max kept his voice as flat as
possible, but under the circumstances his bile filter was a little taxed.
“Shit! What do I tell her? Is Madolla okay?”
Max turned his eyes to the pen.
“She’s dead.”
Sean’s Links:
Giveaway:
This Giveaway is open Internationally, with this exception: The winner of the Signed Print copy of THE SHADOW OF TIAMAT must live in the USA.
You must be 18+ to enter.
2 Winners will receive an eCopy of THE SHADOW OF TIAMAT by Sean T. Poindexter
1 Winner will receive a Signed Print copy of THE SHADOW OF TIAMAT (USA only)
1 Winner will receive a $10 Amazon Gift Card
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