Title: Nightlife: Night Terrors
Author: Matthew Quinn Martin
Release Date: July 7, 2015
“Doesn’t get any darker than this; you can actually feel the blood spatter…” –Hugo & Nebula winner James Patrick Kelly
Enter the world of Nightlife, where the streets crawl with unimaginable demons, and a monster can lurk behind every friendly face…
Matthew Quinn Martin first terrified horror fans with Nightlife, the captivating story of two unlikely monster hunters determined to save the city of New Harbor from the Night Angels—bloodthirsty creatures that feed on the forgotten. Jack Jackson and Beth Becker are among the few who can see these creatures for what they really are, but as they hunt the creatures, a mysterious organization known only as The Division is hunting them.
In the novella Hazardous Material, we get a glimpse of The Division’s origins and aims, when a young man stumbles onto a long-abandoned video arcade—which three decades ago was the site of the largest mass shooting in New York history—and unwittingly uncovers a relic of unimaginable power and mind-altering terror.
And in the never-before-released As the Worm Turns, Jack and Beth are back, along with their faithful dog, Blood. For months they’ve been keeping just one step ahead of The Division, whose enigmatic leader has been pursuing them with the single-minded obsession to capture them by any means necessary. But as Jack and Beth continue their quest to rid the world of the creatures once and for all they find themselves facing off against something even more terrifying than the Night Angels––something that could hold the key to humanity’s salvation…or its doom.
Three amazing horror stories in one chilling bundle…the only thing you won’t fear is the price!
Reviews for the first book:
“Thrilling, edgy, and scary as hell, Nightlife is an outstanding debut and one of the most original takes on the vampire novel I’ve ever read.” – Jason Starr, International Bestselling Author of The Pack
“Nightlife completely creeped me out. Martin is a master of suspense. Keep me up all night again soon!” –Nancy Holder, New York Times Bestselling Author, The Wicked Saga
“Doesn’t get any darker than this; you can actually feel the blood spatter. Nightlife is the gutsiest debut I’ve read in a long time.” – James Patrick Kelly, Hugo and Nebula Award winning author of Think Like a Dinosaur.
“An incredibly riveting, edge of your seat plot that was equal parts spooky mystery and gruesomely tragic horror novel.” – All Things Urban Fantasy
“Whoa! This is like the ultimate Vampire book! No fluff here. This is not your modern, sexy, ‘I wanna get laid by a vampire’ book – this was some scary stuff.” – Wall to Wall Books
“I don’t think I’ve actually read anything like it!” – Bibliosanctum
“If you like your fantasy urban and dark, give this book a try. If you want to see vampires restored to a fearsome glory, give this book a try. If you just want a creepy good story for the Halloween month, give this book a try!” – Badass Book Reviews
“Nightlife is the perfect story to read if you like to get a good scare on!” – Jersey Girl Book Reviews
“Have you been wanting vampires that are mean, nasty, eating machines? Tired of the glitter and sparkle and angst? Well, check this book out….a perfect blend of action and pathos that most readers of horror should enjoy.” – Now is Gone
“The vampires Matthew created are nothing like I ever read before. They are scary and creepy!” – Yummy Men and Kick Ass Chicks
Born in Allentown, Pennsylvania and raised in New Haven, Connecticut, it wasn’t until Matthew moved to Manhattan that he realized he was a writer. These days, he lives on a small island off the North Atlantic coast of the United States where it gets quiet in the winter…perhaps too quiet. . .
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The bank dominated the center of the block. The letters that had once been fastened above the entrance were gone—no doubt stripped long ago and pawned as scrap—but watery gray ghosts of the name, Empire Bank and Trust, remained, staining the lintel just beneath the crumbling cornice.
The bank was a relic from the days when money was kept on-site, when buildings like this needed to project an aura of safety and power. Power it had in spades, even if that power was a dark, haunted one. Safety, however, had long since taken the last train out of Camden.
Blood’s growl grew to a timber-sawing buzz. Jack knelt by him, resting one heavy hand on the dog’s neck. “Stay here, boy.” Beth fought the urge to do the same, to share in the bond between them. However, as close as she’d grown to Blood these past ten months, she knew he answered to but one master.
The boarded-up door gave way. The bottom edge ground against the sidewalk, leaving just enough room for them to slip through. Blood took his place just outside, standing sentry.
The place reeked of stale air and piss. Their own tentative footfalls echoed like timpani in the hollow structure. Each of them clicked on a flashlight, and the beams pierced the gloom, presenting a patchwork picture of the interior. Above them, the vaulted ceiling stretched past the reach of their beams. The curved sides were covered in a ruin of torn silk bunting that hung in shreds like funerary wrappings. In the center of the cracked tile floor were the remains of a mosaic. It might have once depicted an eagle clutching a shield, but half of it had cratered away. Many holes gaped in the floor, any one of them an invitation to a turned ankle.
Directly ahead of them was a row of iron portcullis windows, behind which a battalion of tellers had once stood. The shelves beneath each pass-through sported an uneven divot at the center, worn smooth by decades of deposits and withdrawals.
At the far wall, just past the bars, Beth could spot the shadow of an open vault. And between the two, the shadow of something else. Something that was moving toward the only door separating them. A door that was open.
“Don’t look at it.” Jack was already reaching for a snap vial. “Cover the door. Let me know if you see anything. Shadows, movement, anything.”
Beth drew her pistol and trained it on the narrow slit of night just past the entrance. She fought constantly to keep her eyes from flicking over to where that thing was. “What’s it doing?
“Waiting for what?”
Beth clamped her jaw tight, gripped her pistol tighter. She backed up until she could see Jack in her peripheral vision. There was a quick cracking sound as Jack activated the vial. He breathed in deeply, and she watched his entire body begin to vibrate as the chemicals took hold. “What do you see?”
Jack took another step closer. He leaned in. And then he shook his head and coughed out the vapor. “Too dark to see much. It’s pacing. I’m pretty sure it knows we’re here. But every time it comes close to the door, it pulls back. I think it wants to attack but is afraid to come too close.”
“Is it wounded? Like the other one?”
“Yes. No. I’m not sure.” He coughed again, and when he spoke, his voice was little more than a gravel whisper. “Wounded, yes. But not in the same way. And . . .” Jack’s voice trailed thin into the musty air.
“And this is a trap.”