Join this epic adventure of faith and wonder. Bryan, an inmate in a county jail awaiting his trial, finds himself in a world of disbelief--literally. He was never really a faithful man in God until he was someone put into an alternate reality. A purgatory that sends him many messages and obstacles. So many things around him that he can't explain. With the help of a mystery girl and some enlightening figures, he tries to figure it all out. He tries to find out why he's there and how to escape. He needs to find the key, the key to everything he needs in life.
“An awesome paranormal romance that fans of Sherrilyn Kenyon and J. R. Ward will really enjoy . . . No simple angels here.”—Danielle DeVor, author of the Marker Chronicles Jaime Connor was once one of the mightiest archangels in heaven. Sent to earth to stop demons from claiming another victim in their sleep, she has battled far too long. Tired of all the killing, she awaits the demon who will overpower her and send her back to heaven. Yet her life lingers on and a dream she can’t remember plagues her thoughts. Only remnants of her memory remain in the image of a gorgeous demon who circled her before the kill—the scent of Ireland on his breathe, a brogue on his tongue, and the sea in his penetrating eyes. The demon must have died. She never would have woken if he hadn’t. That’s how it works. How it’s always worked. So why did he appear in her world the next day? And why is he trying to seduce her? Will he be the fated one to finally steal the life of the strongest dark angel the world has ever known? If she’s lucky, that will be all he steals. “With compelling characters, interesting subplots and plenty of paranormal action Purgatory’s Angel is the kind of book that keeps one up at night! Kudos to Ms. Hughes-Millman for some of the most well-written action scenes this reviewer has ever had the pleasure of reading!”—InD’tale (5 stars)
Part memoir and part study of modern life, Shopping Mall examines the modern mythology of the shopping mall and the place it holds in our shared cultural history.
Sixteen-year-old Sarah wakes up dead at the Mall of America only to find she was murdered, and she must work with a group of dead teenagers to finish up the unresolved business of their former lives while preventing her murderer from killing again.
All who dare to enter the dead mall encounter its mysteries and strange terrors, and some who dare to enter never leave. From Bram Stoker Award-winner Chad Helder comes The Dead Mall Horror: A Novel in 49 Poems, featuring the decapitated phantom of a murdered boy who wanders the dead mall in search of his missing head, a security guard-turned-vampire with a secret treasure, a ghostly mastiff seeking redemption, and an inhuman spirit masquerading as a demon frog, but the main character of this novel in 49 poems is the dead mall, the cavernous cadaver itself. Abandoned by its shoppers, the dead mall is ravaged by vandals and invaded by YouTubers. When teenage occultists open a portal to the underworld, the mall is flooded with spectral denizens and inhuman spirits. Ghost hunters and paranormal investigators attempt to penetrate the mysteries of the dead mall, but at their peril. Will the missing head be recovered before the dead mall is razed to the ground?
New York magazine was born in 1968 after a run as an insert of the New York Herald Tribune and quickly made a place for itself as the trusted resource for readers across the country. With award-winning writing and photography covering everything from politics and food to theater and fashion, the magazine's consistent mission has been to reflect back to its audience the energy and excitement of the city itself, while celebrating New York as both a place and an idea.
The fading spots of blood and the piss stains mock me like they are saying, We told you so, told you, youd be back. They are right. Once more, I find myself lying at the bottom of the basement stairsmy husbands favorite punishment. This is old business. I cant even cry. These stains were left by me, the last time I occupied this space, reminding me this is probably not the last. If something happens to me, at least the blood and the piss have marked my passage, marked my existence that, once upon a time, I was here. I try to sit up, and my body screams in protest. I almost collapse again when I hear my babies screaming, Want mommy! Want mommy! Then the tears come. In the light under the door, my only view in this endless darkness, I watch their little feet frantically going back and forth searching for me, unaware that Im right behind this door. When you begin to lose yourself and you dont know which way is out, thats the time when the shadows come, carrying suitcases and trunks filled with the latest styles in fear, uncertainty, and despair; they are more than happy to throw them open all at once and settle into your life. The trick is to get to that place where you can finally tell them to pack up and get the hell out.
