Take a peek into the pages of various books, from horror to thriller, mystery, zombie and more. Who knows what you might find for your Christmas stocking this year!
We'll start out with Chris Harold Stevenson's intriguing new book The Girl They Sold To The Moon
. (Love that cover!)About the Book:
Eighteen-year-old
Tilly Breedlove’s father has sold her into a form of modern day slavery on
Luna—the Tranquility Harbor Mining Company, 240,000 miles from home. Forced to
be an exotic dancer, she performs risqué shows for the filthy and filthy rich
ore miners--a far cry from her classical and modern dance training. If she isn't
resisting obscene advances from bearded “Prairie Dogs”, she's fending off
jealous head-liner acts who view her as a threat to their status.
INSPIRATION:
Stevenson says, "I
fell in love with the premise of this book because it was so different and
hadn't been used before. The idea, that in a distressed future, heads of
household could pawn family members just seemed so bizarre and ironic to me.
It's not quite the slave trade of the sex slave market--it's a sanctioned
process backed and affirmed by the government. I like the excerpt because it
delivers a shock right up front, indication what the main character has in store
for her and how her world and environment will literally change."
Excerpt:
Frampton
gagged,
and
then
spit
in
a
cup. He
wiped
his
mouth
on
his
suit
sleeve,
a
sleeve
apparently
stained
multiple
times
from
the
same
disgusting
habit. “Your
dossier
indicates
an
entertainment
position,”
he
said. “Probably
dancing
for
the
Prairie
Dogs…and
I’m
not
supposed
to
tell
you
that.”
Dancing
for
the
Prairie
Dogs.
Dancing,
as
in
strutting
around
naked
and
wobbling
my
bare
body
parts
for
men
like
you?
Then
she
thought
about
what
men
like
Framptom
could
do
to
her
or
want
to
do
to
her
with
such
a
job. But
where
were
the
Prairie
Dogs?
“You
mean
out
in
the
mid-west?”
she
tried.
Frampton
chuckled. The
security
guard
coughed.
Frampton
cleared
his
throat. “Prairie
Dogs
are
miners—diggers. That’s
what
they
call
them
at
Tranquility
Harbor,
anyway.”
She
swallowed
hard. “Is
that
anywhere
near
Long
Island? Or
maybe
New
York?”
Frampton
blinked. “You’re
about
two
hundred
and
forty
thousand
miles
off,
Sunshine.”
Tilly
did
some
swift
mental
calculations
then
stiffened. “You’re
not
talking
about
the
Moon
settlement. Not
the
Moon!” Now
she
knew
who
the
Prairie
Dogs
were--just
the
type
of
men
that
would
take
advantage
of
her.
“That’s
the
place,
Sunshine. You’ll
be
just
one
more
hamster
in
the
giant
Habitrail.”
She
would
not
be
singing
in
a
choir
or
dancing
in
a
stage
play. They
were
shipping
her
off
to
the
Moon,
to
dance
for
men
that
never
shaved,
showered,
or
spoke
a
sentence
without
using
a
cuss
word. She
had
a
girlfriend
who’d
told
her
that
her
mother
had
said
that
the
miners
were
all
a
bunch
of
thugs. She
thought
it
incredible
that
they
would
put
a
teenage
female
in
harms
way
like
that. Thugs. If
things
got
out
of
hand,
she
vowed
to
open
up
the
first
pressure
hatch
she
found
and
step
outside.
“It’s
not
so
bad,”
said
Frampton. “Those
hard-working
brutes
could
use
a
cute
little
cheerleader
like
you
to
brighten
their
day. I
know
I’d
love
it.”
She
felt
bile
rise
in
her
throat. Then
she
began
to
make
high-pitched
wheezing
noises. She
always
did
that
before
she
vomited.
Links:
About the author:
Chris Stevenson, originally born and raised on the beaches of southern California,
moved to Sylvania, Alabama in 2009 and settled in with his twin sister. His
occupations have included newspaper reporter, front-line mechanic and federal
police officer. He has been writing off and on for 36 years, having officially
published books beginning in 1988. Today he writes science fiction, fantasy,
paranormal romance, young adult, adult thrillers and horror. He has a total of
nine titles appearing on Amazon. His latest YA near-future tale, The Girl They
Sold to the Moon, took the grand prize in a publisher's novel writing contest
and garnered six offers of publication.
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