The world had gone to hell long ago, taken over by the vampire race. In order to keep some sort of peace in our land, the Vampire Lords made a consecutive agreement. The rich and powerful humans could survive just as they had been, untouched by the vampires save for the occasional blood collections, or so they thought In reality, we were all under their control. Castles spread out throughout our land, one landing in each city. Each castle varied in the number of vampires residing there, but all of them carried a Lord. The Lords were the ones in charge in every city, whether we liked it or not. The vampires often roam through the city, making sure that everyone was in order and no one stepped out of line. If you stepped out of line, you died, end of story. Even if the rich were still under their control, their lives were still better than the poor. The poorest lives held a much worse fate. The men were to be put to work as slaves, whether that meant serving a specific vampire, or just building their castles, they were slaves. The women were to be pets. Pets were the lowest rank you could have. They were forced into cages that were too small to stand in with collars around their necks. They spent their lives in pet shops, just waiting for the dreadful day that they'll be bought. They were treated like animals, trained into what their master wanted, and punished if they misbehaved. Those who were lucky enough to live through that, we're to be slaughtered for their blood at age twenty-five in an act to make sure that our population would stay steady. I was born into this world. Born into this world full of blood-sucking monsters. Except, I was one of the lucky ones. Was. It all ended for me when I was 12, when I was taken away from the last bit of hope and family that I had left. Ever since then, I've lived in a cage, just rotting away, waiting, dreading for the day that some monster would make me his. This is my life. I am a pet. ~~~ Cover by: @mshacake

She stood 10 feet from her target, her bow loaded with a wooden arrow aimed for the little red circle at the centre of her homemade target. The wind kept on ruffling her dark brown hair, stray strands of hair blocking her peripheral view. But she couldn't care less. Her entire self was devoted on getting that arrow on to the bulls eye. She considered the bulls eye as all her problems and worries and she liked to keep on eliminating each one of them by shooting an arrow at it. She let the arrow fly, watching it zip through the air. THUNK. The arrow found homage in the vivid red circle. As the arrow hit the target, she saw her mother lying dead in a freezer; her face devoid of any sparkle that it used to be brimmed with... Cover page by @lixelight

It's just an ordinary day for octogenarian sleuth Myrtle Clover-until her yardman discovers a dead body planted in her backyard. This death isn't cut and dried-the victim was bashed in the head with one of Myrtle's garden gnomes. Myrtle's friend Miles recognizes the body and identifies him as Charles Clayborne... reluctantly admitting he's a cousin. Charles wasn't the sort of relative you bragged about-he was a garden variety sleaze, which is very likely why he ended up murdered. As Myrtle starts digging up dirt to nip the killings in the bud, someone's focused on scaring her off the case. Myrtle vows to find the murderer...before she's pushing up daisies, herself.

****NOTE: This novel is completed ... Enjoy!***** Working as a journalist at a small weekly paper in rural Idaho, Cal Murphy begins losing his big city dreams of writing for a metro paper before his passion is reignited after three high school star athletes are found dead in a 24-hour period. As he and fellow photographer Kelly Mendoza attempt to make sense of bizarre circumstances that led to the teens' deaths, Cal makes a chilling discovery, uncovering a vast conspiracy that grows darker with every twist and turn. With a mastermind determined to silence Cal and Kelly for good, the young reporters ultimately must decide if their lives are worth the risk to reveal the truth.