{"id":8100,"date":"2019-11-16T22:32:38","date_gmt":"2019-11-17T06:32:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/?page_id=8100"},"modified":"2019-11-16T22:32:38","modified_gmt":"2019-11-17T06:32:38","slug":"excerpt-beneath-londons-fog-by-iona-caldwell","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/excerpt-beneath-londons-fog-by-iona-caldwell\/","title":{"rendered":"Excerpt: Beneath London’s Fog by Iona Caldwell"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"Beneath<\/a>
click to purchase<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

I. The Streets Ran With Blood<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I want it known before this tale begins \u2013 I am not a hero but a villain. I want no sympathy from whomever reads this recalling of my story; no mourning for the tragedy that befell my life. I am not an innocent man but a sinner forced to face the ravaging demons and ghosts of his own creation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My story began as many do \u2013 a lie, a fire and murder. One of my kind murdered the woman I loved in the coldest of blood in one of history\u2019s darkest times at the behest of a possessive noble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After a run in with him in Nottingham, I soon found myself fleeing for my life from hunters, framed for a murder I had not committed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Forgive me, I am getting ahead of myself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Let me begin where this part of my story took place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A bloody civil war ravaged London followed shortly by the Great Fire in 1666. A glorious time for me and those like me to take advantage of the chaos and remain hidden in the shadows. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I managed to pursue the one responsible for nearly getting me killed two centuries prior to the plague which befell London before the fire. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within the shadows of the flickering flames of St. Peter\u2019s Cathedral, I struck him down and departed the city, thus avoiding my demise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had yet to escape him, however, when his vengeful spirit devoured the souls of the innocent in a mad bloodlust. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Though greatly injured, I managed to drive his spirit to my new home Raven Hollow Manor in London, imprisoning him in stone coffin in the crypt beneath it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peace resumed in my life and nobles of all kinds enjoyed lavishly hosted parties within the halls of my estate. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unfortunately, the short lived splendor at the hands of the hauntings filled the ears of the locals and my beloved home decayed into a tangled web of blood-filled rumors and superstition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My once glorious halls became infested with dust, its crystal chandeliers covered with cobwebs, their spiders fat on the insects buzzing around the decay and mold-covered wallpaper. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yet, there I remained as it proved a decent place to not only contain my greatest sin but served also as a castle of solitude. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The tides of time swept by in a cacophony of modernization and the movement from superstition to things only mortal science could explain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I still needed to venture into the city, not only to feed but also to purchase other items needed for everyday living.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t until the winter of 1910 that my silence would be disrupted in the form of a girl named Holly, a young street urchin accused of theft. I took her with me after using a bit of \u201cpersuasion\u201d on the local officers to let her go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They did not need to know where I would take her and she soon grew into a wonderful messenger on my behalf. She became a rather attractive young woman with bouncy blonde curls who kept me company with stories of what went on in the city. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am sure, at one time, she became infatuated with me. It did not surprise me. To mortals, my kind held a certain allure they found difficult to ignore. I ended her infatuation quickly following a stern talking to and dousing with cold water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One day, while in my labyrinthine garden, Holly came to me in tears. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the people of London learned where Holly lived, the townsfolk dubbed her a practitioner of black magic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One day, I found Holly sitting on one of the marble benches in the garden, sobbing. I picked a flower and put it in my daughter\u2019s hair, sitting next to her beneath the statue of a praying angel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou need not worry about them, dearest. Mortals are always quick to place labels on what they do not understand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holly sniffled and sobbed, wiping her nose and offering me a smile. \u201cBut why do they avoid this place, Jonathan?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMortals fear what they cannot comprehend. Pay them no mind. You are a wonderful young woman,\u201d I purred, brushing a blonde curl from her face. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The words appeared to have placated her as she smiled and joined me in a moonlight stroll through the garden.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

***<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Around midnight, after dinner with Holly, I dismissed her to bed. Once she departed, I sought out sustenance in the city. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A dense fog rolled in due to the cool winter weather and the recent days of rain. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Combined with the darkness of the streets and alleyways, I managed to meet a young working woman on the corner and wooed her into joining me for a walk to the park. As with other women, I made sure she understood I respected her body with gentle caresses and loving words murmured into her ears. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once I placed her deep under my spell, I kissed the tender flesh of the woman\u2019s throat and exposed shoulder, thanking her for her gift. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My fangs pierced her flesh, earning a moan of pleasure as her body surrendered its precious life force without any significant damage. Her body pressed against mine, her moans increasing with pleasure at my kiss. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I preferred this method to those of many of my other brethren who tore their victims apart during a feeding, choosing power to subdue instead of sexual allure. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When signs of weakness began manifesting I released my hold, picking her up after licking the small puncture wounds, my saliva healing them, leaving no marks or scars. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

To assure she received care, I took her to the nearest hospital and deposited her on the steps without anyone noticing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As always, I used hypnotic suggestion to erase her memory and leave her with a pleasant dream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

During the wee hours of the morning, I tended to enjoy the calls of the birds and the chirping of the crickets to help relieve the burden on my mind. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not a soul roamed the streets near the bridge where I liked to sit and write poetry or read a book. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the midst of the silence, a horrifying shriek caught my attention, almost startling me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My pupils narrowed to those one might see in a viper or a cat. I let my body dissipate into the form of a black mist, hovering over the city in search of the source of the scream. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I found it in the shape of the body of a mangled man. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The whites of his eyes consumed most of the portion of the glossy orbs in his skull, mouth gaped open mid-scream. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I knelt before him, my own brows furrowed in frustration at the recognition of the familiar puncture wounds on the man\u2019s throat. This cannot be. No other has hunted here in centuries. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The disturbing find made something clear. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Many of my kind preferred not to hunt in one place occupied by another of higher status, or in another\u2019s territory for that matter. We changed due to the growing number of human hunters who would kill any of us they came across.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Despite the city\u2019s size, my reputation often kept others out of my hunting grounds, for which I remained grateful. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This new kill had been malicious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I allowed such behavior to continue, it could draw the attention of the hunters or the local police to my home. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Whomever the responsible party, I needed to locate them and have a word with them or kill them if necessary.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My eyes closed, a heavy sigh drawing up from within my lungs. I placed my fingers over the man\u2019s eyes, using a gentle touch to close them. \u201cForgive whichever of us did this to you. You did not deserve to die in such a horrific manner.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Searching through the pockets of his trench coat, I located his identification card and vowed to send some money and roses to his family. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sounds of sirens and the calls of the corner watchmen announced the arrival of the authorities. I left them the man\u2019s wallet so they could inform his family of their loss. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I lurked in the shadows listening to the inspectors scrutinizing the scene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBloody mystery, it is. This is the second mangled body we found this week. One has to wonder if we might be witnessing the birth of another blighter of a serial killer.\u201d One of the inspectors scratched his head beneath the dome shaped hat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I recognized him as Bertrand Abrams, a well-known officer and one of the only men who aided Holly during her visits to town. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

From his looks, one would expect him to hail from Scotland. A bushy mustache and stringy hair with the consistency of sheep\u2019s wool held the color of fire. Dimples set into high cheekbones and a double chin made me smile. A portly belly betrayed his affinity for too many scones and perhaps Scotch. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had been wrong. This death held no mystery. I merely needed to find the one responsible before it resulted in too much of a personal dilemma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Following the release of the corpse to the medical examiner, I took the form of black mist and drifted back to Raven Hollow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The beginnings of my night would be haunted by dreams of a past filled with love, vengeance and pain. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It would be filled with shining auburn locks and eyes the color of the fresh leaves of spring.

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

II. Annabelle<\/strong>
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

London<\/em>, Summer 1565<\/em>
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I<\/em> stood in the shadows of the balcony in a room full of people in London\u2019s upper class, a glass of champagne in my hand, my eyes following the path of a young woman as she drifted from group to group\u2014her strawberry lips plump and perfect for a summer night\u2019s kiss. I fantasized about what it might feel like to taste her lips beneath the moonlight.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

At times I caught the woman glancing at me, a shy smile on her face. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Beneath the ornate feline mask, I caught eyes colored with facial shadow, half-lidded with as much desire as I felt welling up within me. The glances and flirting gestures occurred so often through the night I could take no more and approached her. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman covered her face with a frilly, cream fan, gesturing her head towards the opened window panes leading to the granite balcony.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The satin curtains danced in the warmth of the breeze, their soft whooshes unheard by the gossiping guests as the woman moved through them. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

With immortal grace, I glided through the bodies, refusing advances from bourgeoisie ladies whose breasts struggled to remain hidden behind their laced corsets. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I reached the young woman, she stood staring out at the lavish gardens below. My eyes never left her face, entranced by her porcelain skin almost shining in the moon\u2019s light.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Below, gurgling water echoed from the fountain in the middle of the stone pathway, surrounded by beautiful flowers blooming, permeating the air with sensual smells.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGreetings, my lady.\u201d I took her silken gloved hand and placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles. My hazel eyes locked on her bright green gaze.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We appeared to be studying one another. The sounds of the party faded into nothingness the further we drifted into our own world.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thoughts of what she might be thinking ran through my mind along with concerns I often held during such encounters.  Did she fall victim to my wiles? My natural seduction or did she feel a natural attraction?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

A brief sense of ache pushed at the walls of my beating heart. I forced the thoughts away. It could not be. If my seduction did indeed affect her, she would not have teased me as much as she did. Attraction would have been instant as it had been with those other women from the party who shoved their large bosoms in my face as I walked by.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo you as well, sir,\u201d She replied, gesturing a slight nod. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her bright smile set my heart ablaze with the desire. I gathered my will and requested her to dance with me, an offer she agreed to, never letting go of the mischievous tease of a grin lighting her lips. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I led us to the ballroom where I proceeded to guide her through the most graceful dance. My hand held firm around her tiny waist while her frilly dress followed each majestic spin with the rhythm of the music. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

During a dip, I ventured to ask her what her name could be. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman giggled, fanning herself and requesting some fresh air in light of so much dancing. I obliged her and guided her back to the balcony. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the distance, I could hear the bubbling sound of the water cascading in the fountain. All around the smell of flowers drifted in the cool summer breeze. To give her a rest, I helped her sit on one of the marble benches, joining her.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I repeated my request to know her name. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pushed one of the loosened curls of her bronze hair away from her face. Her green eyes threatening to delve into the depths of my soul. \u201cI am Annabelle Price. May I ask your namel, my Lord?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJonathan Holloway. It is my greatest pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Price.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Annabelle giggled. \u201cAnnabelle, please. To you as well, Mr. Holloway.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

As she had done with me, I corrected her to use my first name. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Little had I known that night would lead to more meetings in the near future only to end in a tragedy which would begin my descent into the darkness of vengeance.<\/em>
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

***
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Light tapping followed by Holly\u2019s voice calling out to me through the closed door caused me to groan, rising in bed and calling to her to give me a moment. Immense pressure threatened to tear my eyes from my skull as I lumbered over to the rack in the corner of the room where a black, silk robe hung. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I put on the robe, taking in the tangled sandy mess of shortened hair in the mirror before staggering over to the door, opening it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As usual, Holly managed to make herself look beyond beautiful despite the early hours of the day. Her bouncy honey-blonde curls sat at the top of her head in a formal bun, her cream dress and green overcoat glistening with the light of the sun. Plump cheeks, colored with a slight hint of blush drew up in a deep-dimpled grin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood morning,\u201d She greeted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rubbing my eyes, ignoring the annoyance niggling my mind, I returned her greeting. \u201cHolly, you know I am not a morning man. What could you possibly need so early?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holly pursed her lips, her blue eyes displaying irritation. \u201cWell, that\u2019s rude. I wanted to have breakfast together like we used to. Were you out late again?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nodded. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My body ached from fatigue, the muscles heavy and throbbing with want to go back to bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she continued to plead, I sighed and asked her for some time to allow me to get a bath and join her downstairs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Despite my belief to the contrary, Holly\u2019s dimpled grin grew wider, eyes shining with excitement. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It made me regret all of those mornings I sent her away, choosing to sleep until after sunset.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holly placed a kiss on my cheek, thanking me, prancing off like a deer through a field of grain back down the stairs. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I returned to my room to procure some clothes for myself and mosey into the bathroom where I ran a hot bath, letting the warm water fill the tub and ease my aching body. I added some of the scented oils and foreign bath salts I purchased during one of my rare visits to the bustling London market. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

They eased the stress and lingering pain, allowing me to relax into a peaceful state of mind. My head lulled back to stare at the ceiling as I thought about the dream recounting the time I met Annabelle, the woman I loved more than my own life. The woman I watched helplessly murdered with my own eyes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I remembered the crimson streams of blood, the life leaving her eyes as she reached out to me, gurgling out my name before she fell to the ground. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Never before had I felt such pain. Such loss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not now. I cannot allow myself to drift into despair. Not when my daughter waits for me. <\/em>I rose from the bath, dried myself with one of the soft cotton towels. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I dressed to join Holly in the kitchen, stopping by my dresser to look at a small, ornate box. I opened it to find a necklace and a ring, sighing at the memories they held. Its bronze hinges creaked when I closed the lid and left the room to go downstairs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holly sat at the table, standing when she saw me, moving like the wind to prepare me a plate containing a full English breakfast and a cup of tea with cream and sugar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holly joined me, her head turned away towards the table, hands twiddling in her lap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I opened the paper she got me and proceeded to read, ignoring her since I knew the behavior to mean she had something she wished to ask. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sighed, unable to handle her less than subtle attempts to get my attention. \u201cWhat is it? I know you have something you wish to say,\u201d I asked, lowering the paper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Biting her lower lip, Holly whimpered. \u201cI wondered if you would be okay with me attending a dinner party with one of my best friends. I know how you are about me going out after dark without you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Knowing what lurked in the shadows and our affinity for young men or women, I often forbade Holly from roaming the streets after sunset. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Seeing the look of desperate longing on her face proved holding my resolve more difficult the longer she did so. I gave in, making her promise not to leave her friend\u2019s house alone or at all, provided she complete her chores both in the house and outside of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With more vigor than I would have liked, she repeated \u201cyes\u201d and \u201cthank you\u201d so many times I lost count. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh! That reminds me. The groundskeeper is doing wonderfully with the gardens,\u201d Holly said with glee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My eyes never left the paper, particularly one story involving the man from last night. \u201cYou hired a groundskeeper? I take it he has no fear of this place\u2019s reputation then?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holly pushed the paper down to capture my gaze with hers. \u201cOf course he is but I promised him decent pay so he\u2019s willing to overlook it.\u201d She sauntered around me, wrapping her arms over my shoulders. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI worry for you being alone so much. Why must you be such a recluse? I know you still hurt for Anna but–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat will be enough.\u201d I said. My voice a tone not to be questioned. \u201cAs far as anyone knows, I do not exist and I am more than fine with it. Finish your chores. I have a delivery for you to make before you leave. As always, be discreet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once again, Holly\u2019s lips pursed. She huffed, took the dishes to the kitchen and prepared to go about her daily business. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I retired to my study to ponder the story of the man\u2019s murder and Inspector Abrams\u2019 mention of another mangled corpse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It soon became obvious, what with the memories of Anna resurfacing and my mind\u2019s endless pursuit of answers, that sleep would remain elusive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Knocking on the door interrupted my thoughts. Holly threw it open, almost allowing it to slam against the wall. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI almost forgot, I think Inspector Abrams\u2019 son has taken a fancy to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh dear. <\/em>I thought. \u201cAnd do you find yourself attracted to him?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She shook her head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen there is no need to worry. Let him down easily but be polite. The inspector has done much to dissuade the general public from their thoughts about you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A thick silence lingered in the air. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI heard another poor person was murdered,\u201d Holly finally said. She hesitated at the last word, her voice barely a whisper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I kept my focus on the spire of Big Ben above the treeline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo I can put my heart at ease, it wasn\u2019t you, was it?\u201d Holly asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, dearest. I do not kill unnecessarily. Now, go finish your chores and enjoy your evening. I will be out late tonight and will be checking on you.\u201d I grinned at the look of defiance on her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With a sigh, I lowered my head. Somewhere in my daughter\u2019s heart, she still feared me, seeing me as a monster
<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I. The Streets Ran With Blood I want it known before this tale begins \u2013 I am not a hero but a villain. I want no sympathy from whomever reads this recalling of my story; no mourning for the tragedy that befell my life. I am not an innocent man but a sinner forced to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"spay_email":""},"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":3584,"url":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/for-reviews\/","url_meta":{"origin":8100,"position":0},"title":"For Interviews","date":"2014-07-25","format":false,"excerpt":"When I put your profile together I will also do a short Q&A with you where we will broaden the range of information provided in your introduction. I will be reading the novel you provided and I will be be discussing writing elements, character and plot development, story continuity, writing\u2026","rel":"","context":"With 3 comments","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":8044,"url":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/excerpt-the-conman-by-mike-murphey\/","url_meta":{"origin":8100,"position":1},"title":"Excerpt: The Conman by Mike Murphey","date":"2019-11-15","format":false,"excerpt":"Click to purchase Title: The ConmanAuthor: Mike MurpheyGenre: Sports Fiction (Baseball)Release Date: November 11, 2019 (What follows is based on a true story) CHAPTER ONEOctober 1992Phoenix, Arizona Failure can be an acute condition, perhaps even chronic, but quitting\u2014quitting is fatal. Conor Nash believed this to his marrow. No stranger to\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","img":{"alt_text":"The Conman by Mike Murphey","src":"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/TheConman4.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":8583,"url":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/excerpt-viper-by-marteeka-karland\/","url_meta":{"origin":8100,"position":2},"title":"Excerpt: Viper by Marteeka Karland","date":"2019-12-21","format":false,"excerpt":"click to purchase Viper Excerpt \u201cWe\u2019re not gonna hurt you,\u201d Viper said, hands out in front of him as he approached her. \u201cI know,\u201d she said, her voice a whisper of sound. \u201cViper!\u201d It was the only warning Arkham could issue before the girl attacked. She launched herself at Viper.\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","img":{"alt_text":"Viper by Marteeka Karland","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/12\/ViperBlitzBanner.png?fit=851%2C315&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":8128,"url":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/8128-2\/","url_meta":{"origin":8100,"position":3},"title":"Excerpt: Skin and Bone by Keary Taylor","date":"2019-11-17","format":false,"excerpt":"click to purchase Skin and Bone Excerpt: CHAPTER ONE Eight surgeries, twelve hair dye experiments, 1,834 hours of video observation, two years of yoga practice to try to make up that extra inch of height, and the public loss of gluten. That\u2019s what I\u2019ve gone through for love.\u00a0 That\u2019s everything\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","img":{"alt_text":"Skin and Bone by Keary Taylor","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/SB.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":6679,"url":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/word-slinger-project\/","url_meta":{"origin":8100,"position":4},"title":"Indie Author Word Slinger Project","date":"2019-04-15","format":false,"excerpt":"An Indie Author Spotlight Indie Word Slinger Project is a brain baby born out of researching how to publish novels. The amount of work involved is overwhelmingly discouraging. When I looked at forum discussions Indie Authors reported time and again that self publishers needed to be a Jack-of-all-trades while those\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":8419,"url":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/excerpt-edj-of-the-empire-revenants-omen-by-timothy-burns\/","url_meta":{"origin":8100,"position":5},"title":"Excerpt: EDJ of the Empire: Revenant's Omen by Timothy Burns","date":"2019-11-25","format":false,"excerpt":"click to purchase Chapter One {content Old Empire Archive Coming to consciousness in a trash-strewn alley behind a dive bar on a rough-and-tumble mining world was quite a rude awakening, let me tell you. I suppose it beat the alternative, though - not waking up at all. Not that Sam\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8100"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8100"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8100\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8103,"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8100\/revisions\/8103"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/havecoffeeneedbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8100"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}