Not only am I giving away copies of BROKEN SOULS, looks like my publisher is doing it, too. They just put up another Goodreads giveaway for 16 copies ARCs.
So if you want to up your chances you can enter for mine (details here) and up your chances by entering the one at Goodreads.
Also, if you happen to be going to San Diego Comic Con at the end of July Mysterious Galaxy will be selling copies early at their booth and I’ll even sign ‘em when I’m there Friday and Sunday!
But even with all those option, wouldn’t you rather get one for free?
I’m giving away 5 copies of Broken Souls. Signed, natch. How do you enter? Easy. Follow me on Twitter at @sblackmoore and from July 15th to July 25th hit me up saying you want to win a copy and use the hashtag #BrokenSouls.
That last bit’s important. Because that’s how I’m keeping track of everybody who enters. On the 25th I’ll pick five names out of a fez and send that puppy to you TOUT FRIGGIN’ SUITE.
Oh, one more thing. This is good for North America only. Sorry, folks, but international shipping breaks the bank.
So hit me up. I got some necromancy goodness here that want to find a good home.
Oh, also, if you want BROKEN SOULS and you haven’t read DEAD THINGS, let me know. Because I got copies of that lying around, too and if you win I’ll send you both of ‘em.
‘Cause I’m a giver.
BROKEN SOULS comes out in less than a month. *cue panic* But if you’re going to San Diego Comic Con you can get copy before it officially comes out.
BE ONE OF THE COOL KIDS! BE THE ENVY OF YOUR FRIENDS! FLAUNT IT AT YOUR FRIENDS, NEIGHBORS, PETS!
All you have to do is go to the Mysterious Galaxy Booth #1119 where they will be selling copies!
And if you want it signed, you can catch me at a couple of places at the con.
Coming up with creative ways to commit mayhem and murder is the lifeblood of these talented thriller authors. A fatal chimera virus; hybridized bioengineered parasites; murderous microchips; lethal electric stimuli; deathstrike via satellite targeting-how many ways can you kill someone? Top thriller authors Tobias Buckell (Hurricane Fever), Alex Hughes (Marked), M. A. Lawson (Rosarito Beach), Stephen Blackmoore (Broken Souls), Gregg Hurwitz (Don’t Look Back), and moderator Jeff Ayers (Long Overdue) discuss the art of delivering deadly thrills. But don’t worry too much. A little light reading never killed anyone.
Afterward I’ll be signing books with these fine, upstanding gentlemen and did I mention you can get a copy of BROKEN SOULS before it comes out? What? I did? Oh, okay.
Sunday, July 27th, 2:00pm – Signing at the Mysterious Galaxy Booth #1119
Can’t get enough of me? THEN COME ON BY AND I’LL MAKE EYE CONTACT AND EVERYTHING!
I’ll be signing at the MG booth from 2:00 to 3:00. You’ll know my by the blank, soulless gaze as I stare at the chaos around me, driven mad by the gibbering of thousands of fans. Other people’s fans. Probably Kevin Hearne’s, or Joe Hill’s or Jim Butcher’s.
But let’s be clear on one thing. My fans are the sexiest.
What? You want more? WHAT THE HELL DO I NEED TO DO TO APPEASE YOU PEOPLE? FINE.
Friday, August 15th at 7:00 I’ll be back in San Diego at Mysterious Galaxy at 7051 Clairemont Mesa Blvd #302, San Diego, CA 92111. I’ll be signing, surprise! copies of BROKEN SOULS, DEAD THINGS, other people’s books, butt cheeks, whatever you want. Just not checks. Unless they’re somebody else’s checks. I’ll sign those.
Hope to see some of you out there.
So a while back Monsieur Chuck Wendig, Master of The Beard, wrote a book for Abaddon Books titled UNCLEAN SPIRITS kicking off their Gods And Monsters series in which the gods have come to Earth and are fucking with the little folk.
The third in the series, coming out in December, is MYTHBREAKER. By me.
TA-DA! We have a cover.
As a child Louie had conversations with “invisible friends” and could see patterns in the world no one else could see.
In other times he would have been a prophet – someone to make people believe in the gods.
But he grew out of the visions and into a life in the underworld as a drug runner.
Now thirty-five and burnt out, he’s had enough. With access to the mob’s money he plans to go out in a big way. Only he can’t. A broken down car, a missed flight; it’s bad enough being hunted by the mob, but now the gods – kicked out of the Heavens – need someone to tell their stories, and they aren’t letting go.
Caught between two warring factions of gods and the mob Louie hatches a plan to get out, if it doesn’t get him killed first.
Man, I do like me that cover.
And that somebody would be RT Book Reviews.
“Blackmoore’s bottomless imagination concocts some truly twisted, weird, bloody and deviously clever stuff in this latest novel, featuring his acerbic necromancer, Eric Carter.”
Four and a half stars, baby. And a Top Pick for August.
I don’t know where to start. It’s all a blur. From getting onto a flight at LAX to getting home four days later? Five days? I can’t remember.
Sometime last Wednesday I went into Bat Country. I’m not sure I got out again.
Chuck Wendig and Kevin Hearne taking me out into the desert, a giant spider erupting from the ground to tell me secrets, dark whispers on the wind until it turns into Delilah Dawson weaving a spell that will trap the souls of the unwary. What she does with them I do not know. I cannot know. These are the Damned whose names have been turned to dust. She tears into them with the fervor of a starving hobo.
Blood. So much blood. A car made of bone and sinew and flesh. It runs on bile and flame. Sam Sykes at the wheel, his steely eyes staring into a land of dust that only he can see. He guides us through a hell of our own making. A cackling Lela Gwenn whips a herd of half-naked Abercrombie & Fitch models until their desiccated skin flays in the desert sun, falls to the ground to feed the snakes that chase us.
But mostly there is pain.
Brian McClellan gloats over a mummified dog’s head dipped in gold. It tells us the Secrets Of The Winds, its sapphire eyes twinkle and when Brian speaks it is the voice of the dog’s head. Is he the dog or is the dog him? Are we all the dog? Are none of us? Brian gloats. Brian judges. Brian tears through a cake of madness and despair.
There are tacos. So many tacos. Tacos to make the world weep. Tacos to end the universe. We consume the tacos and they consume us.
These are some goddamn good tacos. These are the Tacos of God.
Jaye Wells is a fiery goddess, dispensing wisdom and lies. Lies that are truths. Lies that are the meanings in hidden places, in the spaces in between. She speaks and the world burns.
Leanna Renee Hieber proves her bonafides by tearing through a man’s jugular and drinking deep his blood. It pours into the streets, washes us all in its red sea. A baptism of blood and pain. She is The Legit Vampire.
Jason Hough, Django Wexler, and Wesley Chu are the Three Smiling Deaths, their teeth flashing neon, their eyes gray static. When they speak there is a sound of distant radios as heard on deserted highways. Songs that no sane man was meant to hear, a mad piping on the midnight air. They sweep through the streets of Phoenix, leaving dread and a feral madness in their wake. Wes flexes his muscles and thousands die, Django sets his Bone Hounds upon the people laughing at each rendered corpse. Jason is the Lord of Lightning, arcs of electrified death bursting from his fingers.
Mike Underwood tells me he knows an escape. A way through the mindless horde. But like the others he is nothing more than a face of the Devil. I escape but at a cost. I lose a hand and part of my left foot.
Myke Cole attempts to rescue us from this pit. He is valiant. He is prepared. But not even he can save us. It is too late. We are too far gone. We leave his body in the desert, knowing that not even the vultures can truly kill him. He will rise again. I can only hope that I am far from this blasted land before he comes for my head. I can still see his feral grin, his crazed eyes. He is a man of honor, but honor means nothing in this wasted world.
We are lost.
I carve an X on my forehead to ward my mind from the madness that engulfs us. Instead of blood only dust appears. It blows away on superheated winds. There is a distant memory of panels. Of magic dark and profound. Of mad cities and pits of tar. These spells run deep. They go by the ancient laws that no one can break, or according to the mysteries that no one can decipher.
I think I have murdered a man for their churros.
Jamie Wyman, Olivia Kelly and Kristin Sullivan tear through the crowds like vengeful wraiths. They consume all who come near with their fiery retribution. They are the Unmakers Of Dreams, The Dread Valkyries, The Claws of Death. There is nothing to do but run.
There is more. So much more. So many left behind. So many dead. So many I cannot remember. It is too much.
Escape. Blessed escape. The lizard people taunt me, the snakes laugh. The spiders and coyotes and saguaro grasp at me trying to hold me back. I fly away on wings of fire and gasoline, in a metal prison. Some day I will return. I MUST return.
That is this place’s curse. That is its joy. That I will come back is inevitable. That I will leave some part of myself behind a given.
There is nothing else.
There is only Phoenix.
I’ll be at Phoenix ComicCon in a week and a half doing authorly things. Like, you know, drinking, crying in the corner, wondering where I left my pants.
And panels! Yes. I will be on panels.
But mostly drinking.
Anyway, panels. If you’re at the con and would like to hear my PEARLS OF WISDOM (imagine that in an echoey, boomy kind of voice) and be led astray here’s where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing.
Friday 6/6 – 1:30pm – 2:30pm
Urban Fantasy and the Real World
I’ll be with Chuck Wendig, Greg van Eekhout, Jaye Wells, Michael R. Underwood and Vicki Pettersson talking about how our fictional worlds intersect with reality.
Friday 6/6 – 4:30pm – 5:30pm
Magic Systems: Urban Fantasy vs. Epic Fantasy
“Epic fantasy and urban fantasy use magic in different ways..or do they? Panelists from both ends of the fantasy spectrum talk about whether magic is constrained by genre.” With Jaye Wells, Jim Butcher, Myke Cole, Patrick Rothfuss and Sam Sykes.
Saturday 6/7 – 10:30am – 11:30am
Constructing a Mystery Plot
Talking ideas on how to build a mystery with Charlaine Harris, Jeffrey J. Mariotte, Kris Neri and Vicki Pettersson.
A couple of NEW DEVELOPMENTS!
I will be spending a large portion of the con sitting at a table (Booth 2414) with the terrifying and inimitable (trust me, I’ve tried to imitate him, but I just can’t get the beard right) Chuck Wendig signing books, talking books, making trebuchets to launch cats across the aisle at Jaye Wells and Kevin Hearne and other such authorly things.
So if you’ve a mind, come on by!
ALSO! I will be at the Drinks With Authors event Saturday night where YOU CAN WIN AN ARC of BROKEN SOULS, two of which will be given away as door prizes BECAUSE I LOVE YOU PEOPLE LIKE THAT.
Well, actually I love you people the way Buffalo Bill loves a good skin suit, but that’s different.
Beyond that who knows? I’ll be around. Like a cloud of toxic gas.
Hope to see y’all out there.
*blows off dust and cobwebs*
I really need to clean up in this place. Hang on.
*kills grue leaping from the darkness*
Anyway, so I’ve been kind of absent from here. Busy, busy, busy, ya know. Happens. BUT.
It has been pointed out to me a few times that though my next book, the sequel to DEAD THINGS, BROKEN SOULS, continuing the poor life choices of Eric Carter, is available for pre-order (Indiebound here and Amazon here), there’s no synopsis listed. Which begs the question..
WHAT’S IT ABOUT?!?
…stuff? Things? No? Fine. FINE.
P.S. if you haven’t read DEAD THINGS there’s some spoilers below so BE FOREWARNED.
When necromancer Eric Carter returned to Los Angeles after fifteen years on the run he knew things were bad, but he never imagined how bad they could get. Sister murdered, best friend dead, married to the patron saint of death, Santa Muerte.
And things are just getting worse.
His link to the Aztec death goddess is changing his powers, changing him, and he’s not sure how far it will go. He’s starting to question his own sanity, wonder if he’s losing his mind. No mean feat for a guy who talks to the dead on a regular basis.
While searching for a way to break Santa Muerte’s hold over him, Carter finds himself the target of a psychopath who can steal anyone’s form, powers and memories. Identity theft is one thing, but the guy does it by killing his victims and wearing their skins like a suit. He can be anyone. He can be anywhere.
Now Carter has to change the game, go from hunted to hunter. All he has for help is a Skid Row Bruja and a ghost who’s either his dead friend Alex or Carter’s own guilt-fueled psychotic break.
If things go right, he just might survive a week where everything is trying to kill him and nothing is as it seems.
SO THERE YA HAVE IT! Comes out in August. I’ll talk more about it soon. Promise.
So, it’s Halloween in a couple of weeks and I was thinking to myself.
“Self,” I said. “I think a Halloween story would be a great idea. But I don’t have time to write one!”
“You realize there’s no one here, right? Just you? Have you taken your meds?”
“But I was thinking, hey, I could put up one I’ve already written that a lot of people probably haven’t read, yet.”
“Okay, look, just take your pills. They’re right here. You’re supposed to take three of the pink capsules and one of the round white ones. And hey, look! You’ve already got something to drink them with.”
“So I’ll put that story up for people to read. That’s a good idea.”
“I’m not sure you’re supposed to take these with bourbon, though. This is bourbon, right? Smells like bourbon.”
And so, ladies, gentlemen and those who straddle in between, a zombie Halloween tale that you can read right here and right now.
Please to enjoy. *throws confetti*
And if you’re interested in more Halloween stories by other fantastic authors, check out the antho that it’s in, DEADLY TREATS.