Wednesday, August 12, 2020

*Book Tour & Giveaway* Pride's Downfall Series by K.R. Morrison

Be Not Afraid 
Pride's Downfall Book 1 
by K.R. Morrison 
Genre: Paranormal Horror 

Now available from Linkville Press: Lydia’s faith in God is strong—at least on paper. But what happens when that faith is tested? Turned into a vampire by the worst—Vlad Drakul—she feels that God has abandoned her. But the opposite is true. God rescues her from a fate worse than death, and brings her into the plan He has for global redemption. With the help He sends, she feels like nothing can stop her. But when Vlad torments her again, and then her family, the temptation to run and hide is almost too strong to resist. Her answer to God’s call is the deciding factor in the battle that pits the angelic powers of God against the demonic powers of Hell. 

**Only .99 cents!! ** 

Unholy Trinity 
Pride's Downfall Book 2 

What happened in the moments after Judas hanged himself?

Where did Cain go after the death of Abel?

Myths abound, and some of them have similar endings.

Cain murders his brother out of jealousy. Judas betrays Jesus to those who want to see Him dead. Vlad the Impaler destroys without mercy, and is legendary as Count Dracula. Three souls, collected and bound together in the same body by Lilith, Satan’s mate and favorite slave.

Cain, Judas, and Vlad Tepes all fall into the same trap: weakened by pride but too stubborn to turn back, they become cursed to walk the world through all of time. Pursued by Hunters, a group first established by Cain’s tribe when he was abducted by Lilith and the Serpent, they must keep one step ahead of their enemies from century to century.

The tale starts in Genesis, moves to the time before and after the Crucifixion, then makes the journey into what will become known as the Carpathian Mountains. We are dropped briefly into the 15th century, pass through time in Romania and Scotland, then conclude in 19th-century New Orleans. This is where the story, and the three-souled Beast, must await another day and another century. 

**Only .99 cents!! ** 

Resurgence: The Rise of Judas 
Pride's Downfall Book 3 

Two years after the horrific events of “That Night”, Lydia and her family and friends have settled back into their lives. All seems peaceful, but for the haunting memories of the war that took place over their heads. A battle that everyone else has put aside as “mass hysteria.”
Now, with the unearthing of an old house in New Orleans and the appearance of a mysterious woman named Delilah, events are transpiring that have the Bronsons and their friends worried.
Delilah is a mystery. She takes on a partnership with a world-famous loser, and insists on rebuilding the crumbling buildings on the hill overlooking Lydia’s home town. The very same buildings that housed the evil that plagued them all two years before.
Pat and Trudy, the Bronson siblings, learn that their time to act is upon them. Demons and dark shadows are appearing in their lives, and in the lives of those they love. The one seemingly most threatened is their own father, Steve, who can’t seem to spend enough time in Delilah’s company. Then there are Martha, Sean, and Ryan, whose sinister experiences make them re-think their stance on the “mass-hysteria event.”
Not to mention Toby, almost three years old, who has powers beyond any mortal, but is definitely nothing more than a toddler.
Once again, the Bronsons must take on responsibilities much more than they think they can handle. However, God sends more helpers: an odd old man by the name of Nick, who lives in the park; and Miriam, a young lady who steals Pat’s heart.
Side by side, these young people show that their generation can be just as strong as the previous one. For they will need all the strength they can muster to fight the foe among them. 

K.R. Morrison has lived in the Pacific Northwest for over twenty years. She uses her maiden name to show honor to her Scottish roots, and as a tribute to her dad. She and her husband have two young-adult children.

"Be Not Afraid" is her first book, a darling little creature spawned from an all-too real nightmare. Her second book, "Unholy Trinity", was published in 2016.

"Resurgence: The Rise of Judas", is the third book in the "Pride's Downfall" series, and the fourth book, "Enoch's Return", will be available by September of 2020. 


 It’s fascinating to me where ideas for stories come from. A shard of amber-colored glass can bring about an entire novel (one which I haven’t written yet) or a river beside the road can evoke a great story. I have seen the glint of a red eye staring out from under steps leading from a beach, and a short story arises. A shadow flitting across the lawn can make me catch my breath with thoughts of “what if?”

My husband and I spent a weekend at the beach a number of years back, and we had a great balcony view. As I watched the gulls wheeling about in the sky in the early evening, I thought of how wonderful it would be to visit here every year.

Thus this story came to mind—no horror here, just a bittersweetness.


My spine vibrates with the shudder of the car engine as it winds down from its long journey. Matey and I sit in silence, looking out at the beach. Not a lot of people out there today, this being the off-season.

The rare February sunshine glitters off the incoming waves like so many diamonds, and even with the windows up, we can still hear the demanding water as it rushes over the sand. It calls out to us, and we cannot resist.

I am the first one to get out. The wind immediately blows my hair into cotton-candy fluffs and tufts. Matey gets out, sees what has become of my hair, and laughs hysterically. “Yours doesn’t look exactly like you’ve just stepped out of a magazine spread either, my dear,” I chide gently.

Matey smiles, pushes back errant strands, and then looks out to sea again. I follow suit, and we find ourselves staring at our favorite monolith, Haystack Rock. So close to the shore that it’s easy to explore at low tide, the monstrous rock has welcomed us every year since our first visit.

Care to take a stroll on the beach?” I ask.

Well, of course. What would our weekend be without it?”

As we climb down the sandy, well-worn concrete steps, Matey’s weight on my arm is just that much heavier, more dependent than it was a year ago. I smile sadly, recalling younger days, when we would both run down these same steps, heedless of whether we actually hit each one of them or not. We would race to the water’s edge, where we would tease the receding waves, daring them to catch our feet. Then we would run, screaming with excited delight, when the water would take our dare and chase us down.

Our first time here, together, Matey almost had me in the water. Only by chance and sheer strength did we avoid a frothy, wet, cold christening. However, we did seal our relationship with the first of many kisses. And those kisses have continued over the years, becoming more and more precious as we have aged.

Just a few feet onto the warm, shifting sand, Matey stops. “Oh, this is far enough for now.”

I am disappointed, but Matey’s health is not what it was. The wind whips through strands of hair that were once gold, but are now silver. Either way, they are treasures to be kept safe.

We get back to the top of the stairs, feeling like we have just scaled Everest. After a moment to get our breath back, we remove our bags from the trunk of the car and make our way into the hotel.

Everyone smiles and greets us; they knew we were going to be here. Many have been employees at this same hotel for many years, and know us by sight. We come here as often as we can, and try to get our special room. When the kids were growing up, we rented two adjoining rooms, but that was many years ago. Our children have children of their own, who play on this very beach when school is out for the summer.

But this is our special weekend. Our anniversary weekend.

We open the door to our little room, and are pleasantly surprised by the champagne and flowers. It was so sweet of them to remember.

There was a time when, once the door to the room was closed, we’d draw the curtains and get re-acquainted with each other’s bodies for hours. Now we are drawn to the setting sun that shines through the plate-glass window. We can never get enough of sunsets anymore.

Matey takes out a sweater and opens the door to the balcony, while I pick up the champagne and the glasses. As I put them on the small table outside, Matey asks me to bring out the spare blanket as well. Cold legs can cause pains that do not go away easily.

Settled, we watch as the sun slides down past the top of Haystack Rock. Gulls fly around the rock’s craggy sides, fighting for a place to roost for the night. Some of them, more hungry than in need of rest, scavenge along the shores or fly along the walls of the hotels, seeking crumbs left out by careless guests.

One of these brazen lads lands on the unoccupied balcony to our left, and peers at us with one eye. Not finding any luck with that side, he flips his head to scrutinize us with the other. We laugh and shrug—nothing here, fella. He squawks and flies off, joining a small but growing number that has found a group of tourists wandering the shore with full bags of popcorn.

As twilight stretches itself across the water, it is getting harder to see the crags and cliffs on Haystack. The tide is coming in; the base of the rock has disappeared, as have most of the smaller boulders that sit at its base like silent acolytes.

The sky is changing to an orange-ish pink as the sun starts to lower its toes into the ocean. The froth atop the waves is now a dull beige, the show being over for the most part. They will rest up and be sparkly for another audience tomorrow.

Cap’n?” comes Matey’s voice. I glance away from the sunset to find a champagne glass nearly in my face. “You’ve let it go empty.” That teasing, chiding voice! It hasn’t changed a bit in fifty years.

Fifty years we have been Cap’n and Matey. We took a cruise on our honeymoon, and entertained ourselves by pretending we were the owners of the ship. Since I am older, I was “Cap’n”, which left Matey to be, well, Matey.

I fill both glasses, and we sit in silence as the sun continues to go down. Small sparks of light appear on the beach; fires, built by newcomers not realizing the rules against such things. There was a time when we would feign ignorance and do the same thing. I can’t blame them. To stay down on the beach at night, there must be some way to see, and to stay warm. Yet flying embers are also a danger.

Ah well, no longer an issue in our life. Sigh.

The sun stretches its rays towards the unfeeling clouds, holding onto them with all its colorful desperation. Its efforts spread colors fantastical and brilliant, glowing against the sky in awe-inspiring splendor.

We watch the last slip of sun go down into the sea, and we take each other’s hands. Another beautiful year, another beautiful sunset.

I’m getting cold. Can we go in?” Matey’s voice whispers in the near-dark.

I tear my eyes away from the western sky, now going into blues and violets. I sigh inwardly and nod. “Certainly.”

We pick up the champagne, the glasses, and the blanket. I follow my beloved through the balcony door, then it is closed. We shut the drapes and put on a light, keeping the cold ocean night at bay. The dark swirls in off the water, but we are safe from its searching grasp--safe in the embrace of each other.

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