Final Excerpt from Alex Finch: Monster Hunter - and Another Chance to Enter the Giveaway!

And here is the last bit. Enjoy - and thanks for hanging out at the pavilion!

Remember - you can enter the contest until October 31, on my website or my Facebook page.

Here we go:

Meet Alex Finch - tomboy, techno geek, monster hunter.

Reluctant monster hunter.

 

A school project, an absentminded project partner, and a misplaced backpack all change 16-year-old Alex Finch's life forever.

 

In a single afternoon Alex finds the missing backpack, has a run-in with Sam, the boy she's had a crush on since first grade - and discovers that monsters are real.

 

That mind-blowing incident throws her life in a completely different direction, uncovering secrets that cost her more than she could ever imagine. And the further she digs, the darker and more dangerous the secrets become.

 

What else is hiding behind the ordinary facade of her California beach town?

 

Alex is about to find out.

 

*Includes an exclusive excerpt of Truth and Consequences, the second Monster Files adventure, coming your way in time for the holidays!

 

 

Excerpt:

 

We were at the back of the house, trapped by an eight foot version of the spike tipped wrought iron fence. McGinty must have been one paranoid man. And we weren’t getting out that way.

Before I could stop her, Misty disappeared around the corner. The creature didn’t follow us out the window, like I expected, so it could be anywhere—and that included waiting for us to run out front and straight into its sharp claws.

“Misty!” I tried not to shout her name, but I needed her to hear me. I skidded around the corner and ran right into her. She clutched my injured arm; the pain almost buckled my knees. “God—”

“Sorry.” She snatched her hand away, and saw the blood-smeared gash. “Oh, Alex,” she whispered. “That thing didn’t—”

“Rusty can.” I caught my breath, cradled my throbbing arm. Leaning in, I kept my voice as low as possible. The creature probably had the keen hearing of a wolf, and already pinpointed our position. “I’m going to go first. If I tell you to run, you run. No hesitation, no looking back.”

“What about you?” Her concern left me feeling—odd. No one at school ever . . . Never mind.

“I’ll be right behind you. Promise,” I said, when she gave me the skeptical eye. “Are you okay to run?”

We both looked down at her feet, at the bloody footprints in the dirt. Glass littered the ground, and she obviously found her share of it.

“I’m good. The pain’ll come after, I’m sure.” She tried a smile, failed miserably. I appreciated the effort. Miss Prom Queen kept surprising me. “Don’t play the martyred hero. I really, really don’t want to do the project on my own.”

Before today, I didn’t want to do the project with her at all. Now I wanted to live through this, just to see what kind of awesome we could create. And I don’t use that word often—especially with anything relating to school.

“Just for you.” I hefted the iron leg, my muscles already burning from the weight. “Ready?” Misty let out her breath, nodded. “Wait for my signal, then run like the chess club is after you.”

That got the smile out. The chess club adored Misty, and let her know, in all sorts of creepy, stalkerish ways. “Meet you at the bus stop,” she whispered. “Seriously. You better show.”

“Got it.” I inched along the side of the house, Misty close behind, but out of swinging range. I seriously underestimated her brain capacity. The stench of wet dog hit me before we reached the corner. I touched Misty’s wrist. “When I say go, you hit it. Hard and fast.”

She bit her lip, but nodded. I kept moving forward, both hands on the iron leg. This time I was aiming for that smirking snout. I needed to do enough damage to give me time to reach the sidewalk. That was my get-out-alive goal.

I just hoped I had enough left to cause the damage.

My arm had been bleeding steadily since I cut it, with no time to do anything but pretend it didn’t hurt like hell. Closing my stronger right hand over my left, I moved forward, taking slow, even breaths.

Claws scraped across cement. It was on the walkway—I hoped—leading up to the house. Please, God, don’t let it be on the sidewalk outside the fence.

I took a chance, peeked around the side of the house. And let relief loosen the knot in my gut. The creature sniffed along the middle of the cracked walkway, its back to me. I knew I wouldn’t get another break like this.

Shouting in my head, I ran forward, raised the heavy iron leg and bashed it against the creature’s right flank.

“Go, Misty!”

I saw her in my peripheral vision, dashing across the lawn. I scrambled backward, keeping the furious, snarling creature in my sightline.

Without warning it leaped forward. I cried out, ramming into the fence left side first. My injured arm bounced off the wrought iron. The pain shot through me, going straight to my legs, which happily gave in to it, dropping me to the ground.

All my pain-blurred vision saw was a black shape filling the sky. I covered my head with my right arm, made myself as small as possible and braced for tearing agony.

Instead, a startled whine nearly deafened me. Something wet and icy splashed over my right arm, followed by a pair of calloused hands that dragged me up and out of the yard before I could take in a breath to scream.

“Alex!” Misty’s voice pierced through the brain fog. “God, are you okay? Get her away from the fence, Sam. That nightmare could still reach through and—”

“He won’t be hurting anyone, Misty.” Oh, no. Please, let me be hearing things. “You’re safe, Alex. I promise you.”

No—not hearing things. That deep, quiet voice belonged to Sam Emmett—yeah, those Emmetts, as in Emmettsville. I’ve had a secret crush on him since the first grade. I can count on one hand the number of times he’s noticed me. After today, I’ll have to start using both hands—to hide my face every time he walks by.

 

Want more? You can grab your own copy here:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

And here is another chance to enter the release giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Thanks for stopping by, and until next time - read on. :)



About the Author

C.A. Dean believes in ghosts, witches, magic - and monsters.

She loves the supernatural, the odd and the strange, and writing about it is like going to a job she loves - no work and all fun.

She would love for you to join her as she hunts for monsters - real and imagined.


And there's the official biography, out of the way.

I love telling stories, and my four nephews have been a big influence in what I read, and now what I write.

Sliding into YA has been as easy fit, especially since I've been reading and loving it for years.

Alex Finch: Monster Hunter is the first book of a series I have been planning for a while, and I can't wait to introduce you to Alex and her rather quirky friends. :)

To find out more about me and my books, you can hop over to my website:

http://cadeanauthor.com

Hang out with me on my Facebook page: http://facebook.com/cadeanauthor

Or come and exchange tweets at: https://www.twitter.com/cadeanauthor

I look forward to meeting you. :)

Ready For Another Alex Finch Excerpt? Plus Another Chance to Enter the Giveaway!

Here you go - another taste of Alex Finch. This time you get to meet Misty - the absentminded project partner. :)

Meet Alex Finch - tomboy, techno geek, monster hunter.

Reluctant monster hunter.

 

A school project, an absentminded project partner, and a misplaced backpack all change 16-year-old Alex Finch's life forever.

 

In a single afternoon Alex finds the missing backpack, has a run-in with Sam, the boy she's had a crush on since first grade - and discovers that monsters are real.

 

That mind-blowing incident throws her life in a completely different direction, uncovering secrets that cost her more than she could ever imagine. And the further she digs, the darker and more dangerous the secrets become.

 

What else is hiding behind the ordinary facade of her California beach town?

 

Alex is about to find out.

 

*Includes an exclusive excerpt of Truth and Consequences, the second Monster Files adventure, coming your way in time for the holidays!

 

 

Excerpt:

 

It could have been worse.

 

Yes, it could have—I could have been stuck with Lance Rayner for the biggest, most important English assignment of my high school career. He had the sense of a rock, and dirt was smarter.

Instead I was partnered with Misty Corwin. The Misty Corwin—Prom Queen, cheerleader, class president, and airhead extraordinaire. I had already chosen my book for the project, To Kill a Mockingbird, and was 99.9% certain she’d never even heard of it. I was doomed.

And Misty cemented that fate by losing my notes three days into the project.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“What do you mean, you lost them?”

 

Misty tossed her waist length blonde hair over one shoulder, five foot ten inches of perfect lounging against the decorative arch leading into the school quad. She looked calm, but I could see the panic in those sky blue eyes. “I, you know, misplaced my backpack.”

Who does that? I took a deep breath, let it out, promised myself a new toy for Red if I didn’t punch her. “Do you remember where you misplaced it?”

“Um.” Now the panic spread across her face. This was not going to be pleasant. “I got on the bus near,” she looked around, as if some nefarious gossip was waiting to jump on every word. Yeah, I like words like nefarious. Sue me. “You know. The house.”

“The house.” My hands itched, wanting so badly to shake her until she started making sense. She lost the notes, my notes on the project. Notes I had spent months on. She was going to be accountable. If the small, angry part of me I only let out once in a leap year had its way, she’d be paying in pain. “And that would be which house, out of the, oh, twenty thousand or so in Emmettsville?”

Misty raised one perfectly shaped blonde eyebrow. “Sarcasm is like a second language to you, isn’t it?” I looked at her, startled, and I have to say, impressed. I didn’t think she even knew what sarcasm was. “The McGinty house—it’s the closest bus stop to my gym. I must have set the backpack down when I was getting change for the bus. I didn’t mean to, Alex.” She did the pretty little pout that worked with every teacher at school. I was, thankfully, immune. “This assignment is important to me, too.”

“Okay.” I let out a sigh, partly because I knew she meant well, and partly to ease some of the desire to choke her blue. “Let’s go see if it’s still there.”

“But I have practice!” She bounced off the arch, ready to cheer for her right to avoid this. “We have a game on Friday, and as head, I have to—”

“You’re going with me.” I may be short, but I have this—tone. Mom calls it my “creep out the children” voice. Misty cringed like I had threatened her with imminent death. “We will hunt down the backpack, and you will not touch the notes again. Are we clear?”

Misty seemed to shrink with every word. “Yeah. Can we go? I want to have some practice time.”

I didn’t mention the fact that I would be missing dance class as I slung my messenger bag over one shoulder. No one at school knew that I was a dancer—and I didn’t want that to change now. I like having parts of my life separate, to avoid the pointing and laughing.

I clamped my hand on her wrist, to keep her from sidetracking on me as we went past her fellow cheerleaders, and made her walk to the McGinty house. Where there was no backpack to be found.

“You’re sure it was here?”

Misty flipped her hair back, a sure sign she was irritated. “I was just here. This morning.” She spoke slowly, like I was an idiot, and pointed across the street. “My gym is right there. The same gym I go to three times a week. Good enough?”

I pushed hair off my face, limp strands sticking to my skin. Walking here may have been punishment for her, but it didn’t do me any favors. The humidity coming off the ocean two blocks away made me long for air conditioning. Welcome to October in Southern California.

“I’m going to check in the yard,” I said. “Maybe some kid threw it over the fence.”

“You’re not—you’re going inside?”

“It’s just a house, Misty.” She moved closer to the street, rubbing her arms. The McGinty house was the cliché that every neighborhood seemed to have—an overgrown, abandoned house that was, of course, haunted. I’m far too practical to believe that random spirits hang out in a dirty old house, waiting for some kid sneaking in on a dare. I handed her my messenger bag. “Try not to lose this one. I’ll be right back.”

I opened the rusted wrought iron gate, which naturally squeaked. Inside, the wide lawn was overgrown with some kind of vine, spreading across patches of dry, dead grass, the mess covered by the first drop of fall leaves, and piles of trash. The sidewalk was cracked, and buckling under the pressure of the tree roots demanding more room.

I scanned the side of the yard closest to me, looking for a backpack-shaped object among the trash, leaves and vines. Nothing.

Pushing down pointless anger, I kept looking, forced to move deeper into the yard. Closer to the house, the trash piles got bigger, more dense. With a sigh, I pushed up the sleeves of my hoodie and resigned myself to getting dirty.

Ten minutes later, all I had for my efforts were filthy hands and a nasty gash on my left forearm from a rusted can. Terrific. Tetanus shot time for me. I had a handkerchief in my messenger bag, and it was time to give up on the backpack, and my months of work.

I could cobble the notes together again from the research on my computer. Unfortunately, most of them were handwritten during study period, when we aren’t allowed near the library computers. Please, don’t get me started.

I know—I should have scanned them in, made a backup copy. I just didn’t expect anyone else to be touching them. Backups were number one on my new to do list.

With a sigh, defeated, I started to turn toward the street—and I spotted it, a green bulk in the shadows of the porch.

“Yes—” Forgetting the blood, and the filth coating my fingers, I moved to the steps. They looked—decrepit, but I wanted what was inside the backpack enough to risk it. Besides, the heavy leather of my motorcycle boots would protect me if I went through.

I tested the first step. The wood screeched under my weight, but it held, so I took a chance. The screech became a squeal. I held my breath, ready to jump at the first crack. The squeal subsided to a grumbling moan. Encouraged, I moved to the second step. It got me close enough to reach for the strap.

That was when I heard the growl.

~ ~ ~

Want more? You can grab your own copy here:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

And here is another chance to enter the release giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Thanks for stopping by, and until next time - read on. :)



About the Author

C.A. Dean believes in ghosts, witches, magic - and monsters.

She loves the supernatural, the odd and the strange, and writing about it is like going to a job she loves - no work and all fun.

She would love for you to join her as she hunts for monsters - real and imagined.


And there's the official biography, out of the way.

I love telling stories, and my four nephews have been a big influence in what I read, and now what I write.

Sliding into YA has been as easy fit, especially since I've been reading and loving it for years.

Alex Finch: Monster Hunter is the first book of a series I have been planning for a while, and I can't wait to introduce you to Alex and her rather quirky friends. :)

To find out more about me and my books, you can hop over to my website:

http://cadeanauthor.com

Hang out with me on my Facebook page: http://facebook.com/cadeanauthor

Or come and exchange tweets at: https://www.twitter.com/cadeanauthor

I look forward to meeting you. :)