Blog Tour: Madman Across the Water by Caroline Angel

Madman Across the Water

By- Caroline Angel

Genre- Horror

For generations one family has been haunted by something... something that stalks. It sees and listens, it watches and follows. In the shadows and mist it waits, to take you, to hurt you, perhaps to kill you. And if it doesn't kill you, you’ll wish it did.

A creepy, suspenseful saga of family, horror, and mystery, this is one story sure to leave you frightened of the woods at night, fog, and all things tall and slender.

  

About the Author-

Caroline wants to live in a world where it’s always acceptable to bring your dog with you, wherever you go.

As an author she’s had the most read stories on several sites, won competitions and challenges with her short stories and web based novels.

When she’s not selling cable TV, you can find her riding one of her horses, walking her dogs, or sitting in the local café drinking copious amounts of hot beverages and writing up a storm.

Her first book, a creepy horror novel titled “Madman Across The Water” hits shelves May 2015.

Links-

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/ucat42?fref=ts

Twitter- https://twitter.com/ucat42

Blog- https://www.fictionpress.com/u/873990/ucat42

Excerpt:

The nightmares Simon had were not something he would share with anyone. They were black, dark and suffocating. Simon still dreamed normal dreams like normal people, but these had become few and far between. Instead his sleeping hours were haunted with the dark, complete blackness, where he was trapped somewhere in the cold and suffocating fear with nothing to see, nothing but black. He didn't know if he was blind in the dreams or if he was in a lightless place, the windows painted black and all light shut out. He just knew that the dark nightmares frightened him so much that he slept only reluctantly, and only when exhaustion pushed him to the brink of collapse. Even then it would only be a couple of hours until he was launched back to wakefulness, heart hammering and sweat coating his body, the dream still clutching at his sanity as he would through himself out of bed and outside, usually vomiting and gasping with the sheer horror and shock from the dreams.

Simon took a drag on his cigarette and this time he could hear something in the deadened silence of this cursed night.

It was the baying of hounds. Hunting dogs.

Or hounds from hell?

On this night, he supposed they were one and the same.