New Release from Scott Harper

Quintana Roo, Yucatan

Rikki Breitenberg is an archaeologist in charge of the first team of American
documenters allowed by the Mexican government to explore newly discovered Mayan
ruins in the Yucatan. However, shortly after their arrival in Mexico, things go
awry. Treacherous jungle, inclement weather and dangerous wildlife are only the

When Rikki and her team run afoul of members of an ancient cult devoted to the
worship of a bloodthirsty god, things take a terrifying turn for the worse.
During their struggle for survival, the team makes a startling discovery that
may rewrite the whole of human history. Will they survive to bring their
amazing find back to civilization?



Teaser Tuesday with Scott Harper!!

Please welcome back Author Scott Harper for another great Teaser Tuesday! 

Enjoy & Comment

Con artists Wendy Markland and Jacob Iverson
have spent the past several years making a living by pretending to be vampire
hunters. They fleece people with tall tales, folkloric trivia and low-budget
props. Neither believe that the undead, demon-possessed corpses they pretend to
hunt are truly real. But now, while working their latest job, they learn the
staggering truth – vampires are real. They find their worldview turned
upside-down and their lives forever shattered as they go on the run, fighting
for survival against the unspeakable evil that pursues them.


cursed loudly. In her terror at seeing the vampire that had first revealed
itself to them, she had completely forgotten about the dark, swift shape she
had seen duck behind the gravestone. They had never been facing a single
vampire, but a pack of them.

The five creatures came forward. One ripped the crossbow from Jacob’s hands
before he had a chance to reload it. Another tore the belt, with its stakes and
mallet, from his waist. Others did the same to Wendy, relieving her of her own
paltry weapons.

Unarmed, each was grabbed from behind by a vampire and led away. The remaining
three formed a guard, one in the lead and two following behind.

Wendy and Jacob were marched through the graveyard until they came to the
wrought iron perimeter fence at the rear of the cemetery. On the other side of
the fence was what looked to be an old cow pasture, long since abandoned and
gone to seed. The tall grasses and weeds stirred in the soft breeze and pale
illumination of the moon. In the distance, nearly invisible, was a ramshackle
farmhouse. Judging by its silhouette, it looked ready to collapse under its own

Wendy shrieked as the creature holding her from behind pitched her over the
fence. She landed in a heap, most of the wind knocked from her lungs. Jacob
landed hard beside her. In the same instant, their captors landed beside them,
quiet and nimble. Wendy realized with a start that they had simply leapt over
the five-foot-tall fence.

She was hauled back to her feet. Her legs were weak. If not for the vampire
once more holding her arms from behind, she would have fallen. Again, she and
Jacob were marched forward, toward the old farmhouse.

Abruptly, Jacob twisted hard, cursing the creature that held him. Its grip was
too strong; he was unable to free himself. Still, the vampire cuffed him hard
on the back of the head, knocking him to the ground. It instantly yanked him
back to his feet. The vampire acting as point spun around, backhanding Jacob,
whipping his head to the side, splitting his lips. Blood flew through the air.
Wendy shuddered upon hearing the five creatures’ combined hiss of desire. The
creature holding Jacob grabbed his short, dark brown hair, drawing back his
head offering his throat to the vampire on point.

“The leader of our cultus wants you both alive,” it said, “lucky
for you.” It turned and began walking once more.

The others followed, forcing Wendy and Jacob along with them.

“Are you okay?” Wendy asked.

The vampire holding her tightened its grip painfully on her arms, causing her
to wince. “No talking.”

In answer to her question, Jacob nodded, glaring at the back of the lead
vampire. Blood dripped from his split lips.

The dilapidated farmhouse grew steadily closer. Even in the pale light, Wendy
saw that it was leaning badly, ready to cave in on itself. She wondered how it
managed to stay upright at all. She and Jacob were taken up the creaking,
wooden front steps and forced over the warped, broken planks of the porch. The
front doorframe was crooked, the door wide open. She and Jacob were marched
through the portal and into the rotting structure.

Gagging at the stench of decomposition and putrefaction, Wendy tried to hold
her breath. The smell of the vampires was bad out in the open. In the confines
of the house, coupled with the musty odor of the building itself, the combined
reek nearly made her pass out. Bad as it was just inside the front door, the
oppressive stink grew exponentially the further in they were taken. Unable to
take any more, her legs buckled. The vampire holding her arms released her.
Wendy collapsed to the floor, the planks squalling beneath her, and was sick.
Before her stomach had even been emptied, she was grabbed and dragged along,
leaving a trail of vomit on the already filthy floor. When she was reduced to
nothing more than painful dry heaves, she was pulled fully back to her feet,
forced to walk again.

Upon entering the kitchen area, Wendy saw another door set into the back wall,
half-rotten, hanging slackly on its hinges. Wan moonlight filtered through
panes of cracked, dirty glass to partially illuminate the upper portion of a
rickety set of stairs that led down into darkness. The odor which rose from the
crepuscular depths was so abominable, so rancid, that it forced Wendy back to
her knees. Her stomach clenched painfully, spasms wracking her body, as it
tried to empty itself again. She went cold, as if her blood had turned to
freshly melted ice in her veins. She began to sob.

Beside her, Jacob collapsed. He vomited, the dinner he had eaten at the
Holdridge house splattered down the front of his bodysuit, as the vampire
holding him shoved him toward the waiting darkness.

Bio: Scott Harper is the author of more than 30 published short stories and several
novels. There has been talk, from several fronts, about turning his fourth
novel, “Predators or Prey?”, the first book in his Wendy Markland
series, into a live-action project.

Harper graduated from Marysville High School in 1993 and began screenwriting in
2007, after the publication of several short stories and novels, and has worked
on projects for James Tucker Productions and 11th Dimension Films. He is
currently involved with several projects, covering literature, film and comic

Buy (print):

Fictionwise (e-book):

All Romance e-Books (e-book):

Barnes & Noble (e-book):

Barnes & Noble (print):

Author Links:
Official website:

Teaser Tuesday with Scott Harper

Today’s Teaser Tuesday is with Author Scott Harper!

Enjoy & Comment

It has been two years since Wendy Markland
learned the horrible truth that vampires and other supernatural predators are
indeed real. She has spent that time alone, hunting, desperate to avenge the
loss of her brother. Now, a news report draws her to the small town of
Pinewick, New Jersey, located in the small state’s infamous pine barrens. Upon
arrival, the local Sheriff tries to end Wendy’s investigation before it can
even begin. When she ignores him, Wendy finds out that what’s going on isn’t
what she thought, though the dead are walking in Pinewick. Wendy’s
investigation leads her to new friends, new love and new terrors in the pine
barrens as she deals with not only a human necromancer, but an ancient death
demon and hordes of zombies.


A figure shambled in front of the car and Wendy’s words gave way to an
inarticulate scream as she slammed on the brakes and tried to swerve at the
same time. The car fishtailed but it was too late. She felt a sickening crunch
as her front bumper impacted with the person. The car bucked as one of the
front tires rolled over something.

Scarcely taking time to slam the car into the parking gear, she threw open the
door and leapt out. She saw nothing at first, then she spotted the arm
protruding from beneath her car. The limb wasn’t moving. Her stomach clenched
as cold fear wormed around in her belly. Something new caught her attention,
bringing her focus to it. The sight of the severed leg, lying a few feet away,
made her stomach churn with nausea. She turned away and vomited. As it had been
awhile since she’d last eaten, she was quickly wracked with painful dry heaves
as tears flowed down her cheeks.

After a couple of minutes she turned, wiping her mouth with the back of her
hand. Wincing at the feel of the sticky fluid now on her hand, she brushed it
off on her sweatshirt. To her amazement, the arm beneath the car was now
moving. She watched in awe as the fingers twitched, the hand clawing at the
asphalt in slow motion, as if trying to gain a grip on it.

She turned back to the open car door and practically dove inside, snatching up
her cell phone. Part of her thought that she should speak to the person who was
lying broken beneath her car. But she had no words for them; nothing she could
say would comfort them or make their pain lessen. As she fumbled with the
phone, a niggling little thought tugged at her mind. She flipped the phone open
and tried to dial. Her hands were shaking so badly that it was all she could do
just to hold onto the phone. She pressed the 9 button then managed to press the
1. As she was trying to press it a second time the niggling little thought
forced itself to the fore of her mind.

No blood!

She felt her eyes widen. Slowly, she turned to look again. The leg still rested
a short distance away. The arm still reached out from beneath the car,
scrabbling weakly at the pavement. She could hear faint scratching sounds a the
fingernails scrapped over the rough surface. She looked again at the leg. It
was clad in what appeared to be the tattered remains of the leg of a pair of
dress pants. The foot was clothed in a dark sock and brown leather shoe, caked
with clods of dirt. The leg had been severed just above the knee. A shard of
bone, almost washed out by the glare of the headlights, stuck out of a mangled
mess of ragged, pale flesh. But there was no blood anywhere in sight.

Then the smell hit her, the sick, putrid stench of rot and decay. Her stomach
tightened and she thought she would be sick again. The shock she felt at the
thought of having accidentally killed somebody was replaced in an instant by a
new fear. It was a dread so deep that she felt tears begin to roll down her
cheeks the moment it settled on her. She mouth went dry and her throat was
tight. Only half aware of what she was doing, she folded her cell phone closed
and held it tightly as she stared at the pallid shreds of flesh visible among
the torn fiber of the suit leg.

The soft scraping sound drew her eyes back to the hand as it slowly clawed at
the asphalt. More of the arm could be seen now. She saw the cuff of a black
sleeve and the white cuff of the shirt beneath it. She watched as more of the
arm came into view until, finally, she could see the shoulder and a thatch of
dirty, unkempt hair falling forward to hide the face. The body stopped moving.

A small popping sound made her realize that she was gripping her cell phone
tightly enough to have cracked the plastic casing. Still, she kept her hand
tightened on it.

The mangy head lifted, the neck it was attached to bending at an unnatural
angle. Upon seeing the face, Wendy nearly choked and had to put both hands over
her mouth to keep from screaming. It was broken and pale, an ashen, bloodless
color. Tangles of dirty hair hung over eyes that were blind with rheumy cataracts.
The mouth was opening and closing slowly, the pallid lips gummed with a thick,
sticky substance that Wendy refused to even think about. She watched in horror
as the corpse pulled itself the rest of the way out from beneath her car. The
right leg was missing and the left was crushed and mangled, bone shards clearly
visible. The thing twisted its head once more, turning its hideous face toward
Wendy. The death-white features pinched into an expression of gleeful malice
and a grotesque smile pulled at its mouth, the lips sticking to each other for
moment before parting fully. A large, shining black beetle scuttled from the
corpse’s mouth, tumbled to the ground and scurried away. The corpse began to
crawl toward her, pulling itself along with its arms, ruined legs dragging
behind it.

Not vampires! Keely was right when he’d called them zombies!

Bio: Scott Harper is the author of more than 30 published short stories and several
novels. There has been talk, from several fronts, about turning his fourth novel,
“Predators or Prey?”, the first book in his Wendy Markland series,
into a live-action project.

Harper graduated from Marysville High School in 1993 and began screenwriting in
2007, after the publication of several short stories and novels, and has worked
on projects for James Tucker Productions and 11th Dimension Films. He is
currently involved with several projects, covering literature, film and comic

Buy Links:
Amazon Kindle:

Fictionwise (e-book):

All Romance e-Books (e-book):

Barnes & Noble (e-book):

Author Links:
Official website: