The Book of Paul Promotion

About The Book of PaulA cross- genre thriller that combines the brooding horror of Silence of the Lambs with the biting humor of Pulp Fiction. Get it on Amazon or Barnes & Noble. About the author:   Richard Long is the author of The Book of Paul and the forthcoming young- adult fantasy series The Dream Palace. He lives in Manhattan with his wonderful wife, two amazing children and wicked black cat, Merlin. Visit Richard on his websiteTwitterFacebook, or GoodReads.

Please enjoy this excerpt from The
Book of Paul
, a nail-biting supernatural thriller by Richard Long. Then read on to learn
how you can win huge prizes as part of this blog tour, including a Kindle Fire, $300 in Amazon
gift cards, 5 autographed copies of the book, and a look into your future through a free tarot
reading performed by the author.

 

Monsters: An Excerpt from The Book of Paul

by Richard Long

You tell your children not to be afraid. You tell them everything will be all right. You tell
them Mommy and Daddy will always be there. You tell them lies.

Paul looked out the filthy window and watched the little girl playing in the filthier street
below. Hopscotch. He didn’t think kids played hopscotch anymore. Not in this neighborhood.
Hip-hopscotch, maybe.

“Hhmph! What do you think about that?”

Paul watched the little black girl toss her pebble or cigarette butt or whatever it was to
square number five, then expertly hop, hop, hop her way safely to the square and back. She
was dressed in a clean, fresh, red-gingham dress with matching red bows in her neatly braided
pigtails. She looked so fresh and clean and happy that he wondered what she was doing on this
shithole street.

The girl was playing all by herself. Hop, hop, hop. Hop, hop, hop. She was completely
absorbed in her hopping and scotching and Paul was equally absorbed watching every skip and
shuffle. No one walked by and only a single taxi ruffled the otherworldly calm.

Paul leaned closer, his keen ears straining to pick up the faint sound of her shiny leather
shoes scraping against the grimy concrete. He focused even more intently and heard the even
fainter lilt of her soft voice. Was she singing? He pressed his ear against the glass and listened.
Sure enough, she was singing. Paul smiled and closed his eyes and let the sound pour into his ear
like a rich, fragrant wine.

“One, two, buckle my shoe. Three, four, shut the door…”

He listened with his eyes closed. Her soft sweet voice rose higher and higher until…the
singing suddenly stopped. Paul’s eyes snapped open. The girl was gone. He craned his neck
quickly to the left and saw her being pulled roughly down the street. The puller was a large,
light-skinned black man, tugging on her hand/arm every two seconds like he was dragging a dog
by its leash. At first, he guessed that the man was her father, a commodity as rare in this part of
town as a fresh-scrubbed girl playing hopscotch. Then he wondered if he wasn’t her father after
all. Maybe he was one of those kinds of men, one of those monsters that would take
a sweet, pure thing to a dark, dirty place and…

And do whatever a monster like that wanted to do.

Paul pressed his face against the glass and caught a last fleeting glance of the big brown man
and the tiny red-checkered girl. He watched the way he yanked on her arm, how he shook his
finger, how he stooped down to slap her face and finally concluded that he was indeed her one
and only Daddy dear. Who else would dare to act that way in public?

“Kids!” Paul huffed. “The kids these days!”

He laughed loud enough to rattle the windows. Then his face hardened by degrees as he
pictured the yanking daddy and the formerly happy girl. Hmmm, maybe he was one of those
prowling monsters after all. Paul shuddered at the thought of what a man like that would do.
He imagined the scene unfolding step by step, grunting as the vision became more and more
precise. “Hhmph!” he snorted after a particularly gruesome imagining. “What kind of a bug
could get inside your brain and make you do a thing like that?”

“Monsters! Monsters!” he shouted, rambling back into the wasteland of his labyrinthine
apartments, twisting and turning through the maze of lightless hallways as if being led by a
seeing-eye dog. He walked and turned and walked some more, comforted as always by the
darkness. Finally, he came to a halt and pushed hard against a wall.

His hidden sanctuary opened like Ali Baba’s cave, glowing with the treasures it contained.
He stepped inside and saw the figure resting (well, not exactly resting) between the flickering
candles. At the sound of his footsteps, the body on the altar twitched frantically. Paul moved
closer, rubbing a smooth fingertip across the wet, trembling skin and raised it to his lips. It tasted
like fear. He gazed down at the man, his eyes moving slowly from his ashen face to the rusty
nails holding him so firmly in place. The warm, dark blood shining on the wooden altar made
him think about the red-gingham bunny again.

“Monsters,” he said, more softly this time, wishing he weren’t so busy. As much as he
would enjoy it, there simply wasn’t enough time to clean up this mess, prepare for his guests and
track her down. Well, not her, precisely. Her angry tugging dad. Not that Paul had any trouble
killing little girls, you understand. It just wasn’t his thing. Given a choice, he would much rather
kill her father. And make her watch.

 

As part of this special promotional extravaganza sponsored by Novel Publicity, the
price of the Book of Paul eBook edition is just 99 cents this week. What’s more,
by purchasing this fantastic book at an incredibly low price, you can enter to win many
awesome prizes. The prizes include a Kindle Fire, $300 in Amazon gift cards,
5 autographed copies of the book, and a look into your future through a free tarot reading
performed by the author.

All the info you need to win one of these amazing prizes is RIGHT HERE.
Remember, winning is as easy as clicking a button or leaving a blog comment–easy to enter;
easy to win!

To win the prizes


Purchase your copy of The Book
of Paul
for just 99 cents

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