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Your Cruel Fingers Will Close My Eyes with a New Cover, and an Excerpt by Martha Allard

The print version of "Your Cruel Fingers Will Close My Eyes" is finally up and available from Amazon, Here is the link, it’s been a long wait, but worth it. I have this beautiful new cover, done by the lovely Kayla Langmaid, and the formatting error that plagued the first run of the book was patiently mended by the equally lovely Tiffanie Shaw. I owe undying thanks to both of them. Check out their books in the links below.

But, let's talk about the novella. "Your Cruel Fingers Will Close My Eyes" is the prequel to "Black Light." It follows a young Albrecht Christian from the mostly shores of Loch Ness to the bright lights of Los Angles. Here's the blurb:

Loch Ness, 1947. Albrecht Christian has lived through both World Wars, but his survival comes with a price. He must steal energy from others to feed himself, and his touch means death for every man who loves him. Albrecht has learned to make himself cold. He doesn’t allow himself love. The world shifts when he meets Merritt Carson, his intended next victim. Different than anything Albrecht has felt before, like whiskey and bottled lightning; Merritt is strong enough to thaw Albrecht’s heart. But Merritt has a secret. He’s a monster in the guise of a man. He has been waiting for someone like Albrecht to break his curse, make him human, to love him. But humanity is fragile. How will Merritt withstand Albrecht’s love once the monster is gone?

The fun of writing for Albrecht is that he still surprises me. How shocking to discover that Trace Dellon was not Albrecht's first great love, and fun to see how every step he takes in this story leads him to Trace and the band. I've said before that Albrecht is my favorite character in "Black Light," and I'm happy to share his life before rock and roll.

Here's a tiny bit of chapter one:

When sleep comes for Albrecht Christian, it doesn’t come alone. His latest victim drifts into the train car, snatching him back from the edge. Tall and slim, dark curls frame the apparition’s face. Albrecht marvels at the beauty of this nameless boy. Death has made him luminous. Albrecht lets out a sigh on the chilling air. He glances down at Marcella, sleeping at his side, but she doesn’t stir. Not even when the shade fits himself on the bench seat between them and lays an icy hand against Albrecht’s cheek. The boy is insubstantial but flickers to color as the last vestiges of his life’s energy flare in Albrecht’s blood at the contact.

In a couple of weeks, I should have this book in my hands, if you'd like a signed copy. If not, please enjoy one from Amazon. I'll be back soon with news of the sequel.


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