Now, I've been hungover before. Arguably more than most. I've experienced the entire spectrum of complicated euphoria that comes with drinking until you can't stand. I've witnessed things that upon reflection, no sober human being could even begin to comprehend through the kaleidoscopic of lens of Dutch courage. There has been very little I couldn't chalk up to the consequences of my own actions while recovering from a particularly heavy night of partying. But as the stranger in front of me demanded for me to stop, his entire appearance morphed into something monstrous. And I can honestly say, that was a first for me. The air grew thin as I began to shake uncontrollably, a rotten cold sweat breaking out across my skin as my tongue simultaneously turned to ash in my mouth. His pupils had blown to an unearthly size, the whites of his eyes rapidly growing blood shot before flooding with thick, burgundy splotches, removing any trace of humanity. Dark veins of blues and purples bulged along his neck, darkening to a perturbing black as they crawled along his jawline and burst forth from his orifices, joining a tangled web beneath his skin. His canines which had already been relatively prominent, extended even further, their sudden evolution an inescapable indicator of their deadliness. His head morphed and elongated just past the point of natural, jaw clenching and sickening cracks looming as I stood frozen in stock horror fear. Everything in my body screamed that what I was witnessing was just wrong. That if there was a God, this creature was the antithesis. I was in the presence of the ultimate predator and I was one swipe away from having my throat ripped out. The man I'd only a few minutes earlier considered attractive, had become one of the vilest creatures I'd ever seen. Definitely not a crackhead. "Holy f*cking crap!" -------------------------------------------------------------------- British ex-military meets the supernatural.

Keenan goes by many names. The Death King is one of them. He had grown accustomed to living his life with one set plan: only talk to humans when you absolutely need to. He craves the trouble they have to offer and gains excitement from their bloodshed. After obtaining what he needs, Keenan forgets about them by their last breath. But fate has a different plan in store for him, and Keenan finds that humans aren’t as simple as they seem.

Nobody knew where Jack came from. Nobody knew when he’d ever leave. From the moment he arrived at Saint Dymphna Asylum, Jack hadn’t uttered a word. He stayed voiceless and lost in his own world. Most figured that his past was terrible. Some guessed that he went to hell, but never came back. Suddenly, on a rainy day in October, Jack opens his mouth. And the truth is frightening. WARNING: This book contains evidence of homosexuality and use of foul language. Read at your own risk. Cover credit: Photo by Noil Klune (www.noilklune.com) Design by: simba-aa Trailer credit: Trailer made by me.