After the tragic death of his daughter, Jack finds himself with more questions than answers. While reading his daughter’s diary about an imaginary unicorn called Summer, he begins to suspect that the unicorn may not be so imaginary after all. Questioning his own sanity, he soon finds himself on a desperate search to unravel the mystery of the unicorn and find what really happened to his daughter. As answers come to light, he begins to regret what he finds, as mythology meets reality and the truth about unicorns becomes known.
About The Author
Del Henderson, born and raised in Illinois, enjoys writing, fueling his passion and love for the noble art of putting pen to paper, or more appropriate, keyboard to computer. Diving into pure imagination he has produced works that grip his reader’s minds with mystery and suspense as they are brought into the fascinating world of fiction.
Michael Okon – Monsterland
Welcome to Monsterland—the scariest place on Earth.
Wyatt Baldwin’s senior year is not going well. His parents divorce, then his dad mysteriously dies. He’s not exactly comfortable with his new stepfather, Carter White, either. An ongoing debate with his best friends Melvin and Howard Drucker over which monster is superior has gotten stale. He’d much rather spend his days with beautiful and popular Jade. However, she’s dating the brash high-school quarterback Nolan, and Wyatt thinks he doesn’t stand a chance.
But everything changes when Wyatt and his friends are invited to attend the grand opening of Monsterland, a groundbreaking theme park where guests can interact with vampires in Vampire Village, be chased by werewolves on the River Run, and walk among the dead in Zombieville.
With real werewolves, vampires and zombies as the main attractions, what could possibly go wrong?
The sky was a sparkling, powder blue, mosquitoes droned lazily over the tepid water, frogs croaked messages while they sunbathed on waxy lily pads. The fire he created burned bright, rabbit roasting on a spit made from hickory, the juices dripping to hiss in the flames. Seven of them lay in scattered repose, enjoying the late afternoon lull—two napped, the others tossed a stuffed fur in the form of a ball around the clearing, hooting with amusement when it rolled into the brush. They traveled in a pack, his group, his makeshift family, foraging together, hiding in plain sight. It had been that way for generations. But the glades were getting smaller, the humans invasive.
The sun started its slow descent into the horizon, hot pink and lilac clouds rippling against the empty canvas of the sky. Their color deepened as the sky filled, the rosy hue morphing into a burnt orange as the sun hid behind the condensation. The air thickened, moisture causing the leaves to lie heavily against the branches. Here and there, fireflies lit the gloom, doing a placid ballet in the humid air. The men moved closer as the sun sank into the western treetops, the fading sky promising another clear day tomorrow in the Everglades despite the moving ceiling of clouds.
A lone hawk cried out, disturbing the peace of the glade. Huge birds answered, flapping their wings, creating a cacophony of swamp sounds. The area became a concerto of animals responding to the disruption of their home—wild screams, squeaks, and complaints of the invasion of their territory.
The lead male stood, his head tilted. He heard it again. It was music, the strange organization of sounds, predictable as well as dangerous. Where those rhythms originated meant only one thing—they were not alone. They all rose, tense and alert, searching the waterway. Billy pointed, his dirty hands silently parting an outcropping of trees to expose a flat-bottom boat with strangers floating slowly toward them. It was filled with people, excitedly searching the banks of the swamp, their expensive khaki bush clothes ringed with sweat. Many held huge cameras. It was obviously a film crew, invasive, nosy individuals looking for something, anything, to enhance their lives. Men’s voices drifted on the turgid air. Billy stood, sniffing, his mates following suit. He glanced at the sky, gauging the time, his eyes opening wide. It was late. The bald top of the moon peeked over the ridge in the south, the sky graying to twilight with each passing second. Night came fast and furious in the swamp, dropping a curtain of darkness, extinguishing all light except for the beacon of the full moon. That chalk-white orb floated upward, indifferent to the consequences of its innocent victims. A halo of lighter blue surrounded the globe, limning the trees silver, the cobwebs in the trees becoming chains of dripping diamonds in the coming night.
What were the interlopers doing here? Billy thought furiously. This was their territory. The humans didn’t belong in the swamp. The moon continued its trip to the heavens, the familiar agony beginning in his chest. Billy fought the demons churning within his body, feeling the pain of metamorphosis. He curled inward, hunching his shoulders, the curse of his nature making his spine pull until his tendons and muscles tore from their human positions to transform into something wicked. A howl erupted from his throat, followed by another, and then another. Grabbing handfuls of dirt, he tried to fight the awful change, but, as the sun dipped to its fiery death, the moon took control of his life, and the unnatural force tore through his unwilling body. Reason fled; his heart raced. Falling on his hands and knees, he let loose a keening cry as his face elongated, his body changing into a canine, fangs filling his mouth. He raced in a circle in a demented dance, knowing his fellow pack members did the same thing. Slowing, he regulated his labored breathing, forcing the icy calmness he needed to keep some semblance of reason. He peered through the dense brush. Lights from the search party bobbed in the distance. The odor, the stench of humanity, filled the clearing.
He turned, digging furiously on the ground, throwing dirt on the flames, hiding their existence. It was no good. Discovery would ruin everything. No one could live with their kind. Humans brought disease, humans brought anger, humans brought hatred. They were there; he could smell them, see their clumsy bodies invading his home. “They’ve found us,” he growled in the special language they used. “Run!” he barked as he turned to his pack, watching his friends’ naked skin transform until it was covered with the same silvered fur. They cried out in unison at the pain, howling with the injustice, and then ran in fear from the interlopers threatening their habitat.
Michael Okon is an award-winning and best-selling author of multiple genres including paranormal, thriller, horror, action/adventure and self-help. He graduated from Long Island University with a degree in English, and then later received his MBA in business and finance. Coming from a family of writers, he has storytelling is his DNA. Michael has been writing from as far back as he can remember, his inspiration being his love for films and their impact on his life. From the time he saw The Goonies, he was hooked on the idea of entertaining people through unforgettable characters.
What has been the biggest difference between being self-published and now traditionally published?
The biggest difference is now I can afford a 90 foot yacht as opposed to the 50 foot yacht. I’m just teasing. Honestly though, you get a lot more callbacks when you’re a published author.
How has the response been to the new book so far?
It’s been incredible. The responses back from people who’ve read the advanced readers copies have been overwhelmingly positive. I cannot wait to see what the reviews manifest into on Amazon.
When did Monsterland officially release?
Friday, October 13th, 2017. Yes, it came out on Friday the 13th.
Is there a sequel?
Oh yes. Monsterland Reanimated (Book II) came out May 26, 2018. That was my 40th birthday.
What tips would you give indie authors, who may want to try the traditional route?
Things are much slower during the publishing process. You have to have extreme patience and know your book is being handled by a team of professionals. It’s a world of difference from the indie world. In the indie world, you have total control.
Do you have plans to attend signing event?
Not at this point, but let’s see what my publicist has in store. I’m waiting on some call backs from some major newspaper outlets.
Any new series or books we should look forward to?
Well, I’ve already started writing Monsterland 3, and currently beating out the story lines for Monsterland 4 and 5. I am also working on a super hero high school book called Whillpower. And I have a great manuscript ready to go for my agent called Dragged Down Deep. It’s Indiana Jones meets Creature from the Black Lagoon.
Is there anything else you’d like to share with the readers?
Buy my book, please. I owe people money.
Where can your readers interact with you online?
This or That?
POLTERGEIST OR “IT”
Poltergeist all day
CANDY CORN OR CHOCOLATE
Chocolate (85% of more)
BATMAN OR TONY STARK
STUCK IN A “FREDDY KRUEGER” MOVIE OR , “ABRAHAM LINCOLN, VAMPIRE HUNTER”?
I need my sleep, so Abe Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
See what our bloggers are saying