oats, no expenses barred.”
I couldn’t help but grin.
“Yeah?”
Lucifer nodded. “You need only do one
little thing for me while you’re there.”
Baalth chuckled low in his throat, the
sound sucking all the happiness from my face. I slid into my seat
and met my uncle’s twinkling gaze as he rose from his
desk.
“ Be sure he’s ready,
Baalth.” Lucifer nodded to us and left the room.
“ Another job?” I asked
after my uncle had left.
Baalth grinned. “Hard work is its own
reward.” He hopped up from his seat and patted me on the head. “Now
go and pack your bags. This one’s going to be tough.”
About the
Author:
Raised on a diet of Heavy Metal and
bad intentions, Tim Marquitz writes a mix of the dark perverse, the
horrific, and the tragic, tinged with sarcasm and biting
humor. He looks to leave a gaping wound in the minds of his
readers like his inspirations: Clive Barker, Jim Butcher, and
Stephen King.
A former grave digger, bouncer, and dedicated metalhead, Tim is a
huge fan of Mixed Martial Arts and fighting in general.
He lives in Texas with his beautiful wife and daughter.
www.tmarquitz.com
Follow Tim on
Facebook: www.facebook.com/tim.marquitz
Twitter: @Marquitz
Read on for a preview of THOSE POOR,
POOR BASTARDS, the first volume in the all-new Old Western
Action-Horror series, "Dead West." From the deranged minds of Tim
Marquitz, J.M. Martin, and Kenny Soward.
'THE WALKING DEAD AND HELL ON WHEELS
COLLIDE!'
September, 1868...SOMEWHERE IN THE
SIERRA NEVADA, during the expansion of the Central Pacific
Railroad, Nina Weaver and her pa, Lincoln, trundle into Coburn
Station with a wagonful of goods they're looking to barter. Of all
the rotten luck, their world—and the future of the American West—is
forever changed when a sudden swarm of zombies invades town on the
hunt for some human-sized vittles.
Those Poor, Poor
Bastards
Book 1 of
Dead West
Copyright 2013
Marquitz, Martin,
Soward
All rights reserved. This book or any
portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner
whatsoever without the express written permission of the authors
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Worldwide Rights
Created in the United States of
America
Designed and edited by J.M Martin |
Nine Worlds Media
http://www.nineworldsmedia.com/
Photography: AFREEMAN
Photography
Cover Model: Meagan
Williams
Add'l stock: Stocked_N_Loaded, Boris
Ryaposov, NastiaOsipovaStock
Textures: Leona Windrider,
tExTuReMaTtIc, Alegion_stock
Brushes: Falln_Stock,
dbszabo1-d54jerq, darkonelh
http://www.tmarquitz.com/
http://www.nineworldsmedia.com/
https://www.facebook.com/officialkennysoward
One
“ If one of them colossal
swarms come you’d hear that low rumbling noise…then jump for your
horse, get to them before they scattered to hell and gone. Then you
ride at a dead run in the dark if you got to, with cut banks and
prairie dog holes all around. Ending up with your neck broke in a
shallow grave is a damn sight better than what they’ll
do.”
— “ Teddy Blue”
Abbott, We Rode Dead West & Away From
Hell
Nina Weaver tucked an errant strand of
hair beneath her hat and walked around to the rear of the wagon.
Her boots squelched in the mud and the stench of horse shit burned
her nostrils. She didn’t want to be here, hated towns, but they
were a week past broke and needed the cash.
The spring thaw had turned Main Street
into a mess of manure and mud, a wagon trap, a thick river of
organic slop only a pig could love.
A pair of stinky traders
passed by on the wooden-planked walkway, each with a string of
carcasses slung over their shoulders. One nodded at Nina. She
nodded back, keeping her brim low. On a bench next door, a couple
of old-timers cackled and spit tobacco as far as they could into
the street. Across the filth-ridden lane, two whores hawked
themselves in front of the Pussy Palace, flirting with their lips
and
I couldn’t help but grin.
“Yeah?”
Lucifer nodded. “You need only do one
little thing for me while you’re there.”
Baalth chuckled low in his throat, the
sound sucking all the happiness from my face. I slid into my seat
and met my uncle’s twinkling gaze as he rose from his
desk.
“ Be sure he’s ready,
Baalth.” Lucifer nodded to us and left the room.
“ Another job?” I asked
after my uncle had left.
Baalth grinned. “Hard work is its own
reward.” He hopped up from his seat and patted me on the head. “Now
go and pack your bags. This one’s going to be tough.”
About the
Author:
Raised on a diet of Heavy Metal and
bad intentions, Tim Marquitz writes a mix of the dark perverse, the
horrific, and the tragic, tinged with sarcasm and biting
humor. He looks to leave a gaping wound in the minds of his
readers like his inspirations: Clive Barker, Jim Butcher, and
Stephen King.
A former grave digger, bouncer, and dedicated metalhead, Tim is a
huge fan of Mixed Martial Arts and fighting in general.
He lives in Texas with his beautiful wife and daughter.
www.tmarquitz.com
Follow Tim on
Facebook: www.facebook.com/tim.marquitz
Twitter: @Marquitz
Read on for a preview of THOSE POOR,
POOR BASTARDS, the first volume in the all-new Old Western
Action-Horror series, "Dead West." From the deranged minds of Tim
Marquitz, J.M. Martin, and Kenny Soward.
'THE WALKING DEAD AND HELL ON WHEELS
COLLIDE!'
September, 1868...SOMEWHERE IN THE
SIERRA NEVADA, during the expansion of the Central Pacific
Railroad, Nina Weaver and her pa, Lincoln, trundle into Coburn
Station with a wagonful of goods they're looking to barter. Of all
the rotten luck, their world—and the future of the American West—is
forever changed when a sudden swarm of zombies invades town on the
hunt for some human-sized vittles.
Those Poor, Poor
Bastards
Book 1 of
Dead West
Copyright 2013
Marquitz, Martin,
Soward
All rights reserved. This book or any
portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner
whatsoever without the express written permission of the authors
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Worldwide Rights
Created in the United States of
America
Designed and edited by J.M Martin |
Nine Worlds Media
http://www.nineworldsmedia.com/
Photography: AFREEMAN
Photography
Cover Model: Meagan
Williams
Add'l stock: Stocked_N_Loaded, Boris
Ryaposov, NastiaOsipovaStock
Textures: Leona Windrider,
tExTuReMaTtIc, Alegion_stock
Brushes: Falln_Stock,
dbszabo1-d54jerq, darkonelh
http://www.tmarquitz.com/
http://www.nineworldsmedia.com/
https://www.facebook.com/officialkennysoward
One
“ If one of them colossal
swarms come you’d hear that low rumbling noise…then jump for your
horse, get to them before they scattered to hell and gone. Then you
ride at a dead run in the dark if you got to, with cut banks and
prairie dog holes all around. Ending up with your neck broke in a
shallow grave is a damn sight better than what they’ll
do.”
— “ Teddy Blue”
Abbott, We Rode Dead West & Away From
Hell
Nina Weaver tucked an errant strand of
hair beneath her hat and walked around to the rear of the wagon.
Her boots squelched in the mud and the stench of horse shit burned
her nostrils. She didn’t want to be here, hated towns, but they
were a week past broke and needed the cash.
The spring thaw had turned Main Street
into a mess of manure and mud, a wagon trap, a thick river of
organic slop only a pig could love.
A pair of stinky traders
passed by on the wooden-planked walkway, each with a string of
carcasses slung over their shoulders. One nodded at Nina. She
nodded back, keeping her brim low. On a bench next door, a couple
of old-timers cackled and spit tobacco as far as they could into
the street. Across the filth-ridden lane, two whores hawked
themselves in front of the Pussy Palace, flirting with their lips
and
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