Preta's Realm
Authors: J Thorn
| Preta's Realm |
| J Thorn |
| (2011) |
, a Top 10 Kindle Bestseller in the Horror/Dark Fantasy
genre!
"...grabs you by the throat and does not let go. Incredibly
graphic it had me screwing my face up in horror at many of the scenes, yet
eagerly clicking for the next page just to see what would happen
next."
Bernadette Davies, Amazon reviewer
"...Preta's Realm is a fine
example of character building done right. Mr. Thorn does an excellent job of
crafting the characters and making sure that you can identify with them. He does
a better job than some of the heavy hitters in the horror realm,
actually."
Bryan Hall, Author of
Containment Room
Seven
"...it is a chilling book. I have not read a book in a long
time that actually makes the hair on the nape of my neck stand but this one did
it."
Jeff, Amazon reviewer
Overview:
Fear blurs the
lines between the living and the dead deep within Preta's Realm
.
"J.
Thorn is right up there between Stephen King and Dean Koontz."
Elizabeth,
Amazon reviewer
"This story reminds me of something that might come from
a late night bull session between Stephen King and Edgar Allan Poe. Author J.
Thorn weaves a tale that eases off the page only to punch you right in the
gut."
Adam Phillips, Amazon reviewer
Any fan of Stephen King, Clive
Barker, or "American Horror Story" will love
Preta's Realm
!
"...Preta's Realm is a fine example of character building done right. Mr. Thorn does an excellent job of crafting the characters and making sure that you can identify with them. He does a better job than some of the heavy hitters in the horror realm, actually."
Bryan Hall
Author of
Containment Room Seven
Angela Addams
Author of
Going the Distance
"J. Thorn's gritty, edgy, writing style combined with his ability to develop stories rich in texture and depth make for an amazing reading experience. His books are not to be missed."
SB Knight
Author of
Born of Blood
"This story reminds me of something that might come from a late night bull session between Stephen King and Edgar Allan Poe. Author J. Thorn weaves a tale that eases off the page only to punch you right in the gut."
Adam Phillips (from Amazon.com)"
Preta's Realm
By J. Thorn
Preta’s Realm
Second Edition
Copyright © 2011 by J. Thorn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover illustration Kate Sterling
"Hungry Ghost" by Timothy J. Wright
Edited by Talia Leduc
For more information:
For Andrew R. and James D.
Table of Contents
Bonus Short Story - Retrograde
Bonus Excerpt from The Seventh Seal
Chapter 1
Drew slid his mouse across the desk with a flick of the wrist. One hundred and seventeen messages, an inbox bursting with digital text. He took a sip from a mug filled to the brim with steaming Italian roast.
“Morning,” came the call from the hallway as Brian floated past on the way to the restroom.
“Hey,” replied Drew.
Brian stopped with a smile on his face. “Got the best blowjob last night,” he said through a toothy grin.
“Who’d you pay to touch that diseased pole of yours?” asked Drew.
“Your mom.”
Drew laughed and threw his hands behind his head.
“What did you do this weekend?” asked Brian.
“My son had his first ice hockey game on Saturday. He scored twice and laid a mean hit on the other team’s defenseman. The kid knows how to forecheck.”
Brian chuckled and dropped his shoulder. He feigned a crosscheck on the office door. “Coulda been a center in the NHL. No doubt.” Drew shook his head and glanced back at the monitor on his desk. “Can’t keep your eyes off that thing for more than one minute, huh?”
Drew shrugged off the question. “Each email is a gift from the tech gods, bundled full of excitement and possibility,” he said.
“Sarcasm?”
“Hardly.”
Brian glanced into the hallway as two skirts pushed through the rows of cubicles. Spiny coat racks covered with winter garments stood like buoys on an open sea of business.
“Every ten seconds,” said Drew. Brian turned back, his eyebrows drawn upward. “The average guy thinks of banging every ten seconds. You’re probably closer to three.”
“Ain’t my fault marriage makes it ten years,” replied Brian.
Drew smiled and shook his head in mock disgust as Brian continued his daily office rounds. He faced his monitor again and noticed that three more bolded subject lines had appeared in his inbox. Drew clicked on the first one and wondered how penis enlargement offers had found their way through the company spam filter. The next one was cc’d to his wife and the subject line demanded an RSVP to a child’s birthday party.
Molly will handle that
, he thought as his finger struck the delete key.
The radiator next to Drew’s desk hissed and spat as the water from the boiler invaded the pipes, reminding him of an air compressor at a gas station. Most of the women on the floor envied his location and fought winter with electric heaters stashed like stowaways under their desks.
The thought trailed along like a fine vapor until it led him back to Virginia Beach. Drew closed his eyes and could smell the cocoa butter tanning oil on his wife’s body, and his breath hitched when he remembered the night they spent on the sand behind the pool. Molly kept worrying that the kids would wake up or one of the other members of the extended family sharing the house would catch them in the act. As usual, Drew talked her into letting go of her inhibitions, even if her mom was a light sleeper. They rolled in the sand until it mixed with the salty smell of desire, sprayed off under the shower nozzle next to the hot tub, and snuck back into the beach house with nobody the wiser.
Drew felt his pants tighten and he dropped the quarterly sales report into his lap in hopes of drowning his growing embarrassment with numbers.
“What time is the staff meeting?” a coworker interrupted. Drew shook and fumbled for the coffee mug, feeling his cheeks flush. “Didn’t mean to scare you, Chief.”
He rolled his eyes and grabbed hold of the mouse on his desk. Johnson never remembered a name. “You didn’t. It’s at 11:00.”
“Like, in ten minutes?”
Drew glanced to the bottom right corner of his monitor at the time, reading 10:49. “Eleven,” he replied.
Johnson shrugged and walked towards the break room. Drew marveled at his own ability to daydream. His teachers had warned his parents about his lack of attention. However, in a time before every kid suffered from ADHD and before the FDA jumped into bed with Big Pharma, his parents treated his condition like every other parent did. They told him to pay attention and then sent him out to play with the neighborhood kids.
The alarm on Drew’s computer shook him. He glanced back to the screen to see that the time was 10:59, his one minute warning to get to the boardroom for the staff meeting. Johnson had a habit of making the latecomers the butt of the joke, and Drew tired of providing him with new material.