Wednesday, 22 January 2020


Title: Not So Dead
Series: The Dead Series
Author: Isaiyan Morrison
Genre: Fantasy, Horror, YA
Release Date: 21st January 2020

BLURB supplied by Xpresso Book Tours
All Faye wants is another chance at being normal: hanging out with friends, playing video games, reading the latest Manga… As a wraith, her craving for a normal existence seems forever out of reach. When she makes the move to the small town of Hueman, Texas with her not-so dead nomadic family, she prays this fresh start will be the one that sticks.

Until… one of her kind is murdered by a mysterious man in a black mask.

With only Carter, an unlucky human witness, by her side, Faye must find a way to prevent the body count from rising and protect her family’s secret identity. As the man in the black mask lurks in the shadows waiting to strike again, her choice becomes a matter of life and death.

In the face of true evil, being normal is overrated.


Isaiyan Morrison was born and raised in Minneapolis, but her heart is in the impressive magical worlds she dreams up. She hopes to share her love for world-building with her readers and help guide them through the extraordinary settings she creates.

Her other passions include reading, and researching historical events. She also enjoys gardening, gaming, and spending quality time with her three cherished cats and beloved pitbull.

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Carter’s mind told him the house was abandoned, but his body gave off a different feeling, one of not being alone. He grabbed the doorknob as a tightness swelled his throat, like it did before when Dusk had threatened him in his apartment.
One. Two. Three.
He twisted the knob and opened the door. “Hello?” he called.
No answer.
A sense of relief washed over him, but it was accompanied by genuine disappointment. He walked in and stopped just inside the living room. Streaks of paint in various colors decorated each surface of the walls. The d├ęcor was somewhat old, and every piece of furniture, down to the recliner, looked as if it’d seen better days. Near a small entryway to the right, he saw a reading table and bookshelves stocked with reading material.
The home was not abandoned.
Maybe the painter who bought the place never left, he thought to himself. Maybe he stuck around because of what had happened. Or maybe he had left, and squatters had made it their home.
Like an investigator, he took out his phone to take pictures. He walked to the back kitchen, finding it creepier than the living room. He circled back and snapped more shots but then realized there wasn’t dust on any of the flat surfaces. They were spotless. Some even shined among the dark interior.
It was obvious someone still lived there. When a flash of light broke through the front window, he crouched low in a mix of excitement, fear, and vindication. The vehicle parked and turned off, plunging the inside of the house back into darkness. With his heart pounding, he crawled toward the kitchen. There was a back door, so he thought maybe he could sneak out without being seen.
When he reached the door, he heard footsteps on the front porch followed by a mix of voices. He slowly turned the knob and pushed it open when a male voice spoke out.
“I thought I smelled food.”
Carter froze. He’d heard the voice before, but he didn’t look back. Instead, he jumped to his feet and rushed out through the back.
He followed the stone path which led through a row of garden beds and to a back fence. He braced himself to take the leap over it when he felt a small hand on his shoulder yank him backward.
He landed hard on the paved stones and felt a sharp pain throughout his back. A woman with ink-black hair stood over him, her eyes fire-brick red. He heard the hard slow clack of boots on stone pavement approach from the house.
“Told you I smelled food, Salome.”
Although his face was half shaded by a large black cowboy hat, Carter recognized Tristan standing over him.
“Is this…” Salome paused mid-question.
“Yep. This is Faye’s little human nerd friend.”
She turned confrontational. “What are you doing here?”
Carter scampered to get away, but Tristan quickly wrapped his arm around his neck and lifted him off the ground. “Oh, no you don’t.”
He struggled to breathe.
“Wait for Dusk,” Salome ordered.
“Why? He saw your eyes. He knows about us. We kill him.”
“I said,” she repeated, “wait for Dusk.”
Carter fought to breathe as Salome’s eyes, now the color of smoky gray, canvassed him from head to toe. She drummed the tip of her fingers on her lips. Unable to break free, Carter opened his mouth and bit down on Tristan’s forearm. Tristan grunted and immediately let him go, and Carter turned to face them with balled fists.
Tristan laughed so hard his voice became soundless. “Gotta give it to him. He’s determined to not go down without a fight.”
“You’re the ones who…” He pointed a shaky finger at them. “Who… who…”
“Who what?” Salome asked in a calm voice.
“You’re the ones who killed all those people ten years ago.” He heard the back door open, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Faye standing next to Dusk.
This was what Dusk meant when he mentioned his family.
A fluttery feeling in his belly had told him she wasn’t involved and that she wasn’t a murderer like the rest of them, but there she was, watching him with curious eyes as Tristan took hold of him again.
 Dusk had already warned him to stay away, and now, he was at their mercy.
“Carter?” Faye’s mouth fell slightly open. “What’re you doing here?”
“I thought I told you to stay away from my family.” Dusk stomped toward him.
“What?” Faye questioned as she trailed behind him. “When?”
Dusk took Carter by the throat. “Early this morning.”
“Let him go!” She tried to push Dusk away, but he remained steadfast. “I said let him go.” She slapped his forearm, and Dusk released him.
“Come on!” Tristan whined. “We aren’t going to kill him?”
Faye stood in front of Carter. “Don’t touch him!”
“Move, Faye,” Tristan threatened with a curled upper lip.
“Tristan.” Salome nudged him back with a gentle push. “No.”
“Why? Because of Faye?”
“Yes, because of Faye.”
Carter leaned forward, trying to catch his breath, while Faye remained by his side. His vision slowly returned in fuzzy flashes of light, just in time to see her round face and concerned gaze.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “Are you hurt?”
He coughed. “Y-yeah.”
Standing face-to-face with her family, he decided to create more distance between him and them by taking a few steps back.
“You said we killed people? Who?” Faye asked.
“All of them.” Carter wiped his face. “Ten years ago, you killed them.”
“Ten years ago?” Confused, Faye looked to Dusk for direction. “What is he talking about?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “We weren’t here ten years ago.”
“A wife and her child were murdered in this house ten years ago,” Carter repeated, “by some thing with red eyes.”
Their eyes set on him, even Faye’s with a mixture of confusion. Even Tristan calmed his overbearing stance.
“We weren’t here,” Dusk said again. “We have nothing to do with those murders.”
“Right here, in this house?” Salome pointed at their home. “Dusk, Essie didn’t tell us anything about this.”
“Strike two for Essie.” Tristan rolled his eyes slowly. “Do you still think she’s not a liar, Dusk?”
Dusk folded his arms in contemplation.
“Dusk is correct in saying we weren’t here,” Salome said.
“But a wraith was.” Faye looked at Carter. “Right?”
He nodded. “And I think this wraith or something else like it also killed my parents.”


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