Wednesday, January 18, 2012

The Apocalypse Gene by Suzi Michelle and Carlyle Clark

Please help me in welcoming Suki Michelle and Carlyle Clark, the authors of the YA book, (and a pretty dang interesting one I might add) The Apocalypse Gene.


Suki Michelle and Carlyle Clark are offering offering 1 free copy of The Apocalypse Gene 
Leave a comment with your email address to be automatically entered. 
Drawing will take place at 10pm C.S.T on 1-18-12, the winner will be contacted via email.

GOOD LUCK to all who enter!!!!!


The Apocalypse Gene
By Suki Michelle and Carlyle Clark
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy

Global pandemic is raging. Olivya Wright-Ono's once loving home has been converted to a hospice for the dying.  Her ability to see auras forces her to witness, with agonizing detail, the vibrant colors of life consumed by malignancy.  

The beautiful and troubled, Mikah, is an elite Empath in the ancient Kindred clan, led by the brooding, ever-morphing, monster named Prime. Mikah has learned a terrible truth . . . the plague is linked to Kindred origins.  When Olivya sees evidence of disease creeping into her mother's aura, she has no one to turn to but Mikah. Can he unearth the Kindred secrets and find a cure?  Can she trust this boy whose power allows him to  manipulate her very emotions? 

With her mother's life, and that of the world, in the balance, Olivya and Mikah embark on a quest to stop the Pandemic, only to discover it is far, far more than a mere disease . . 


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Hot with fury, Mikah slammed the wall with his fist, hardly noticing the pain of torn knuckles. They'd heal in minutes anyway. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He strode across the room and shoved the computer monitor to the floor, swept his arm across the shelves, scattered artifacts, books, graphic novels, puzzles. Prime. That cold hearted ghoul. That monster and his freakin' songbirds.

            "Damn you, Prime," Mikah said out loud, glaring at the ceiling. "Damn you to hell."

            It was almost funny, wasn’t it? Cursing a demon to hell? He wanted to wrap his fingers around Prime's stalk-like neck – if it hadn't already morphed into some other nauseating configuration – and choke the life out of that lumbering nightmare.

            Prime's shuffling footsteps above stopped. The birds went silent. Mikah froze. Not two minutes ago, Changarai had reminded him that Prime can hear his thoughts. Had Prime heard Mikah speak his name? Felt the disgust in his words?

            Mikah licked his lips. Prime was listening. He just knew it. A minute crept by. The ceiling didn't creak. Mikah was sure that Prime could sense waves of loathing coming from below. He was up there probing Mikah's mind, tasting his hatred.

            Okay. Stay calm. Rein it in. Control yourself. Mikah sat on his bed and began to recite the litany he'd learned as a child, the names of Prime and his five Storied Siblings. Maybe Prime would think it was a fluke, that he'd heard Mikah say his name as part of a memorized lesson. Maybe he'd think Mikah was showing diligence to his studies.

            "Prime," Mikah said, loud enough to be heard. "Tiamat Draconus, Kali Medusa, Scylla Kraken, Phoenix Roc, Sphinx." Breathe. Breathe. He began again at the beginning, "Prime, Phoenix Roc, Tiamat Draconus, Kali Medusa, Scylla Kraken, Sphinx."

            He looked up at the ceiling, said it again, even louder. "Prime, Phoenix Roc, Tiamat Draconus, Kali Medusa, Scylla Kraken, Sphinx."

            After the sixth time through, Prime's footsteps began again. Scrape. Clunk. Scrape.
Clunk. Scrape. Clunk. Different than the shuffling gait from before. Had Prime morphed again? Maybe he hadn't heard Mikah say his name at all, but stopped walking as his body jerked and twisted with yet another change. And what was making that clunking sound? Had one of Prime's legs suddenly become heavy, the other weak?

            Mikah paced the room, glancing at the ceiling with every turn. Adrenaline pumped through his bloodstream. At last, the elevator doors squeaked open, and the monster began his descent to his sub-cellar lair. The freight elevator creaked and shuddered. When it reached the level of Mikah's room, waves of psionic power rolled from behind the walls, jagged and hot. Prime's laughter.

            Mikah held his breath, gripped the edge of his desk, shut his eyes as the elevator passed.

Olivya . . . soon.

About the Authors: 

Suki Michelle is a life-long Chicagoan, happily divorced and still good friends with her Ex. She lives and writes with her soul-mate, Carlyle Clark. She has one beautiful daughter, Bree, who is the first reader and critic of The Apocalypse Gene, and without her input, it wouldn't be nearly as cool! Suki's other children are of the four-legged type, Dahlia, the German shepherd; Kilala the lazy calico chub-cat; and Koney, the tortoise-shell demon cat from the Seventh Ring. 
Carlyle is a burly dude from San Diego. He can look menacing at a glance, but as soon as he opens his mouth, pure intellectual. They are eternally grateful for the day they met at an on-line writer's workshop. They've been together for four years. On the outside. Suki and Carlyle are totally disparate. On the inside, they are the REAL Neo-Twins. You'll have to read The Apocalypse Gene to find out who the Neo-Twins are, but here's a hint: They are twisted devils with mirror-melded auras. 

As writers, Suki and Carlyle have complementary skill sets. Lyle is plot master and edgy dialoguer. He is a huge fan of Japanese anime, and he draws upon this to choreograph fight scenes. Suki enjoys painting a character's emotional landscape and writing vivid descriptions. They both have wild imagination.

Suki and Carlyle treasure every opportunity to share their work. 

Twitter:  @Suki_Michelle

1 comment:

Mila Ramos said...

Had to start rereading the book again. Heh. Still great.