Super Dark
(The Super Dark Trilogy Book One)
by Tanith Morse
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Little Willow
ASIN:
B00B139IXK
Number of pages: 256
Word Count: 83,000 Words
Cover Artist: Tanith Morse
Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/tnWAp50eQhQ
Book Description:
For fans of Stephenie Meyer comes a chilling love story that will have
you hooked from the very first page. Super Dark is a tale of passion,
guilt and redemption with a whopping, knock-you-to-your-knees twist!
Darkness stalks seventeen-year-old Sam Harper. Ten years ago on Halloween
night, grotesque creatures snatched her best friend Elliot and Sam narrowly
escaped with her life. Now a decade on, the police investigation has ground to
a halt and Elliot's whereabouts remains a mystery.
Traumatized by her ordeal, Sam finds it hard to make friends. She is
mistrustful of authority and changed schools more times than she cares to
remember. To her, the world is cruel and unforgiving.
Then she meets the enigmatic Lee Weaver. With his gorgeous face and magnetic
presence, he turns heads wherever he goes. Sam has never wanted anyone as much
as she wants Lee, but there are things about the alluring stranger that don't
add up, leading Sam to ask unsettling questions about her past. Soon she
discovers the boy of her dreams is keeping a terrible secret: one that
threatens to destroy everything Sam holds dear.
Super Dark is a seductive love story that will keep you guessing right
until the final page.
Excerpt:
ONE
Snatched
“What are you reading?”
I glanced
up from my book. The girl standing over me had a pleasant, open face, but I didn’t
return her smile. She was the willowy blonde from my English class who sat two
seats back. She wore way too much make-up and her roots needed doing, but
somehow she made it look right.
She’d
tried to catch my eye a couple of times already, but I’d ignored her. If I’d
wanted to make friends, I’d have spent lunch in the cafeteria with the others,
instead of finding this nice, quiet spot on the benches behind the Science
department.
I was
hoping not to be disturbed. Fat chance.
“It’s
George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four,”
I answered.
“Any
good?”
“Yes,
it’s one of the classics.”
“What’s
it about?”
I rolled
my eyes. Who the hell didn’t know about the Thought Police, Big Brother, and
Room 101? Had she been living on another planet?
Undeterred,
the blonde sat next to me. She smelled of soap and chewing gum.
“I’m
Becky,” she said. “We’ve got English together.”
“I know.”
“You’re
Samantha Harper, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You
know, it’s funny. When we first met last week, I could have sworn I’d seen you
somewhere before. Your face looked so familiar. And then Mr. Maine
My
stomach tightened. I knew exactly where this conversation was heading. It
wasn’t fair. I’d only been at St. Mary’s High School a short time and already
someone had recognized me.
“You’re her, aren’t you?” Becky whispered.
“You’re that girl who was kidnapped.”
For a
moment, I let the question hang there. Then I nodded.
“Wow, I
knew it!” she said. “Obviously, you’re a lot older now. But I could still
tell.” Her face lit up with excitement.
I
squinted at my book, trying again to immerse myself in the world of Winston
Smith, but it was no use. I clenched my jaws, trying to contain my emotion. “If
you don’t mind, Becky, I’d rather not talk about this.”
Her smile
dropped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. Hope I haven’t offended you.”
“Not at
all,” I said. “It’s just … well, it’s not something I like to think about.”
“I
understand. Bad memories and all that.”
“Exactly.”
In the
awkward silence that followed, Becky began making little pleats in the hem of
her skirt, then smoothed them out and tried a different tack. “Did the police ever
find Elliot?” she asked. “You know, the little boy who was abducted with you?”
My mouth
became a thin, tight line. I said nothing.
Becky
kicked a pebble with the toe of her tennis shoe. “I remember seeing your
picture in the newspaper. Must be weird being so famous.”
My mind
raced back ten years to a time when the world had seemed a safer place—a time
before my innocence was cruelly shattered. I could see it all as if it were
yesterday.
Elliot
Marsh had lived next door to me since we were toddlers. We’d attended the same
nursery and primary schools, and our parents were the best of friends. He was
the type of kid who’d take a punch for you, lie for you, or share his last
Snickers bar with you. He seemed tough, but he had a big heart. If anyone picked
a fight with me at school, I always knew Elliot had my back. I knew I could
depend on him, no matter what.
Elliot
and I spent most summers together, climbing trees, having water fights, playing
video games, watching cartoons, and teasing the neighbor’s dog. We even went to
Disneyland together once. We had the kind of
friendship that only comes around once in a lifetime.
Neither
of us could have imagined what was about to happen.
The snow
had come early to London
“Let’s
start heading back,” Elliot said.
“But I
still have a little room in my bucket,” I whined. “And I hardly got any
chocolate.”
“You know
what our parents said.”
“They’ll
never know. Let’s try one more street.”
“Do you
reckon we should? Didn’t my mum say we should stay where she can see us?”
“What are
you, a scaredy cat?” I teased.
“No, I’m
not scared of anything,” Elliot retorted.
“Then
let’s go!”
“But
dinner’s gonna be ready soon. I’m hungry.”
“All
right. If you’re too chicken, then I’ll hit the next street on my own.”
He
hesitated, then relented. “Okay, okay, I’ll come.”
We took a left turn at the roundabout and
started trudging up an unfamiliar street. Our boots, now ankle-deep in snow,
made eerie, hollow sounds as they crunched on the pavement. We could see our
breath in icy clouds.
Suddenly, I felt an odd sensation, as if
something had thrown a handful of wet leaves at my back. It made me freeze in
my tracks.
We heard the sputter of an engine—an old,
tired sound, like the last chokes of a dying witch. We spun around and saw a
battered, white van speeding in our direction, its headlights blinding us. When
the vehicle pulled up alongside us, it screeched to a stop and an enormous man
jumped out.
He was the most hideous creature I’d ever
seen: seven feet tall, with bloodshot eyes, dirty brown overalls, and a matted
beard that hung down to his waist. His bushy brows met in the middle, and his
neck and hands were covered in thick, black hair. His lips scared me the most:
they were purple and punctured with teeth marks.
What happened next was a kind of blur. One
minute we were standing by the curb, clutching our trick-or-treat candy—and the
next minute, this monstrous creature had scooped us up under his arms and
shoved us into the back of his van. Candy spilled from our abandoned,
overturned buckets, making a colorful stream in the snow.
Inside, the van was dark and damp. The
floor was covered with large clumps of hay, as though it had been used to haul
livestock. The putrid smell of rotten meat was overwhelming.
As the van rattled up the road, Elliot and
I huddled together like a pair of scared rabbits, holding each other tight for
comfort. I’ll never forget the warmth from his tiny fingers as they interlocked
with mine, or the way he tried not to tremble for my sake. Elliot was putting
on a brave face, but I knew he was just as frightened as I was.
As my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, I
noticed we were not alone. Sitting a couple of feet away was a silhouette; when
we passed a streetlamp, I could see it was a woman with swarthy skin and long,
dark hair that was gathered back in two big bunches. She was dressed in strange
layers of embroidered cloth that reminded me of a Russian Matryoshka doll.
Chunky, gold bracelets weighed down her spindly wrists, and her calloused
fingers sported an array of antique medallion rings.
I gasped when I saw her eyes: black,
unflinching, and potently evil.
I burst into tears, and once I’d started, I
couldn’t stop. I was terrified. Elliot cradled me in his arms, stroking my hair
to make me feel warm and protected, but I could tell he wanted to cry, too.
“What are you going to do with us?” he
asked, trying to make his voice sound serious and brave.
The woman didn’t answer.
“I want my mum,” I whimpered.
Elliot continued trying to calm me. After a
moment, he looked the woman dead in the eye, an expression of defiance on his
face. When he spoke, his voice sounded much older. “Let my friend go,” he said.
“I don’t care what you do to me. Just let her go. She doesn’t want to be here.”
The woman folded her arms across her chest
and glared in reply, her face as grim and impenetrable as ever.
My sobs intensified. I believed now that we
were going to die. This was it. We were Hansel and Gretel, about to be eaten by
the witch.
“Let my friend go,” Elliot repeated. “I
promise I’ll be good. I won’t scream or anything. I’ll do whatever you say.
Just please … let her go.”
Abruptly, the woman made a violent stabbing
gesture with her hand, and then she turned toward the driver. “Muzas gost!” she rasped. Her voice
sounded unearthly.
The man hit the brakes and the van skidded
to a halt. The woman continued muttering in a strange, foreign language as she
wrenched me from Elliot, unbolted the back doors, and shoved me out onto the
street.
The last image I had of my best friend was
his sweet, tear-stained face, his tiny hand waving goodbye to me as the van
doors closed.
I never saw Elliot Marsh again.
Interview:
For people who haven’t heard of Super Dark,
make a brief description.
Super Dark is based in a fictional London town called
Elmfield - a place very similar to where I grew up. It tells the story of Sam
Harper and Elliot Marsh, two kids thrown into a terrifying world where nothing
is what is seems. There are twists and turns galore and you never quite know
what is going to happen next. It’s an emotional rollercoaster ride.
Which of your characters is your favorite and
why?
I have a
soft spot for Frasier Harrison. He was a really fun character to write. With
his quirky dress sense, acerbic wit and crazy sense of humor, he’s the best
friend everyone wishes they had.
If you could meet any person in the world who
would it be and why?
I would
have loved to meet Frank Sinatra. Growing up, he was kind of my idol and I was
so sad he passed away before I got to see him in concert.
Name a book you wish you had written.
Beautiful
Disaster by Jamie McGuire
What are you reading right now?
I just
finished reading 11/22/63 and I can tell you that after more than thirty years,
Stephen King is still on top of his game. I literally lost sleep reading that
book. The level of detail was astounding … all that historical research must
have taken years and yet the ideas are still so fresh and unique. Definitely
one of the best books I’ve ever read.
Name your favorite books.
The Help,
Jane Eyre and Me Before You.
Biggest trouble you faced as a writer?
I got crazy writer’s block during the third book. For some
reason, despite having already written the other two, I found it really hard to
concentrate. The main problem I had was coming up with new ideas to keep the
story fresh. I didn’t want to bore my readers by rehashing the same stuff, so
the plot was definitely a challenge. For a while, my mind just went blank and I
couldn’t work out where the story was going. Then one day it came to me and the
rest of the book literally wrote itself.
Do you like singing or dancing? Does music
inspire you?
Yes music
inspires me greatly. During the writing of Super Dark I listened to a lot of
Adele and Amy Winehouse. I also like old Mowtown – Tina Turner, Diana Ross etc.
You can’t beat the classics. Oh, and there’s a really great girl band from the UK
Favorite movies?
Edward Scissorhands is an absolute classic. Tim
Burton really inspires me because his work is so dark and gothic. Ghostbusters
is also one of my favorite films. I was an ‘80s baby so I have a soft spot for
all those great fantasy filmns from that era. If I ever want some comfort TV,
Ghostbusters would be my movie of choice.
Thanks Tanith for an amazing interview! It was so much fun!
About the
Author:
Tanith
Morse grew up in Wandsworth, south London London
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