I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the KIDNAPPED KILLER by Nina Schluntz Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
About The Book:
Author: Nina Schluntz
Pub. Date: September 6, 2022
Publisher: Nina Schluntz
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 288
Find it: Goodreads, https://books2read.com/KIDNAPPEDKILLER
Read for FREE with a Kindle Unlimited Membership!
A toxic love story between a soul eating demon and his unaware
human stalker.
Nic is demon who feeds on souls. He prefers the souls flavored with emotion,
pain or fear works well.
When his stalker drugs and kidnaps him, he discovers a new
flavor of soul.
Love
The affection is additive, even if it is from a psychopathic
serial killer who wants to add him to the dozens of bodies already buried in
his basement
Pre order book 2 in the
Kidnapped series, KIDNAPPED CLOWDER now!
Book Trailer:
Excerpt:
Kidnapper
I worked
part time at a mall in one of the department stores. I mostly stood at a
register that no one ever came to because who actually still shops at the mall
anymore? To mix it up, I sometimes folded clothes. Normally, I would be
scanning the crowds for someone who might be a good fit to spend a few days
screaming in my basement. I’d daydream about how they’d squeal and what color
their bruised flesh would become under the bite of my belt. But since the
occupancy of my basement was currently uncertain, such ideals were absent
today.
I folded new
dress shirts in the women’s department, preparing us for the spring clothing
line, when a familiar voice spoke to me, his breath so close it tickled my
neck.
“This is
where you work, huh?”
I jerked and
stumbled into the display, undoing several piles of hard work. I held myself
upright with both hands sprawled on the table, preparing to toss handfuls of
clothing at him in defense.
“I didn’t
mean to startle you,” Nic said. “Would you prefer to keep our interaction
strictly to the classroom and your basement?”
“What? What
is with you?” I hissed the words at him
in barely a whisper. I scrambled to collect the fallen garments, noting that
the few customers near us were staring.
“I thought
you liked me, Jimena? Isn’t that why you kidnapped me?”
“You can’t
be at my work,” I said, refusing to look at him. “I’ll get in trouble.”
“Oh, and we
wouldn’t want that, would we?” He snaked a hand over mine and squeezed. I
couldn’t tell if it was meant to be romantic or a threat. “Are you gay,
Jimena?”
“Get the
fuck off me!” I flailed wildly, and he let go at just the right moment to mess
up my balance, resulting in me falling hard to the ground. I landed on my rear,
tears of frustration blurring my vision, and when it cleared, it wasn’t Nic
standing above me but my balding boss. I swiped at my heated cheeks and erased
the tears.
“What are
you doing? Are you okay?” His face looked concerned, but whether for me or the
possibly damaged shirts, I couldn’t tell.
“Sorry,” I
said. I got to my feet, grabbing shirts as I did. “A jerk from the college I’m
attending startled me.”
He surveyed
the area, as if preparing to take on the bully himself. “I don’t see anyone.”
“He probably
ran when I screamed. I’ll get this cleaned up.”
“I’ll do it.
Go work in the back for the rest of your shift.” He had a keener eye than I
expected. My arms were trembling and some wayward customers were still peering.
He lowered his voice. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m fine.”
I sorted
boxes we’d received and tidied the returns area until my shift ended. I stood
in front of the timecard machine and realized I didn’t want to go home. At
work, there was the hope someone would show up and chase the phantom away. At
home? I should invite someone over. I was losing my grip on reality and
experience told me isolation would only make it worse.
But what if
he was there? I couldn’t have my cousin chilling on the couch with me asking,
“Who is that screaming in your basement?”
Twenty
minutes later, I stood in my driveway and found myself dreading entering my own
home. I couldn’t move. I considered checking into a hotel. He wouldn’t be able
to find me, would he?
“What the
hell am I saying?” I clasped my forehead and shook my head. Was I really afraid
to go home because I was concerned the guy I kidnapped would be there?
I pushed my
doubts aside and went inside the house. I refused to look at the basement door.
In fact, I would ignore my basement completely. Fuck Nic! He could rot down
there. I ate supper, showered, and settled in the living room to watch some
television.
That’s when
the shouting started. The only words I could understand were my name. The
basement was pretty sound proof, otherwise it would make for a shitty place to
put captives. The fact I could hear him at all, meant he was standing right on
the other side of the door, shouting at the top of his lungs.
I had two
locks on the basement door: the door handle and a bolt. I turned around on my
couch, peering over the back of it, and watched the door and its locks shaking
as Nic pounded relentlessly on it.
If he could
magically get out of the chains, why could he not enter the rest of my house?
He was in class and at the mall, but somehow the first floor of my house was
off limits? The lack of sense behind it only supported that this was all in my
head.
But which
parts were real and which were fake?
I crept
toward the door and pressed my ear against it.
“Jimena!” He
repeated my name over and over, then I heard him run his fingernails across the
grain of the door. I jumped back and stared at it. How could this simple door
entrap him when the chains didn’t?
I slammed my
palms on the door. “Stop it!”
He fell
silent. I heaved, my heart thumping loudly. I would get no sleep if he kept
this up.
“I’ll come
down if you promise to be chained and you promise to keep the chains on. Okay?”
I’d become fully delusional, but at this point, there was little sense
pretending he didn’t have the ability to remove the chains at will. Still,
knowing he had them on brought me comfort.
I yanked the
door open, fully expecting him to be standing there, prepared to murder me. The
entryway was empty. I rushed down the steps and flicked on the lights as I
reached the bottom.
He was
there, sitting on the floor, chains on his wrists, wearing the same designer
sweater and torn jeans that he’d had on at the mall. They were not the clothes
I’d kidnapped him in.
“Do you
normally ignore your victims like this?” he asked. “Do you realize I’ve been
down here several days, and you haven’t offered me water?”
“What
difference does it make? You keep leaving!” Whether I understood how or not,
I’d accepted it as my current altered reality.
“Perhaps if
the treatment in this establishment was better, I wouldn’t need to.”
“Treatment?
This isn’t a day spa!”
“Feed me.”
“No!”
He stood and
jerked his hands, rattling the chains. I couldn’t help but flinch when he did
it. I couldn’t take this anymore. I’d brought the key with me this time. I
unclipped it from my belt loop and shoved it in the lock on the cuffs.
“I’m freeing
you, okay? You can leave.”
“I don’t
want to leave.”
“What?” I
stepped back and watched in horror as he put the cuffs back on. “Stop that.” I
grabbed his wrist and tried to jam the key back in but he pushed me away. “You
can’t imprison yourself in my basement. Let me free you.”
“Or what?
Are you going to call the police? Do you think they’ll believe I chained
myself?”
“Why are you
doing this?”
He shrugged.
“I like your basement. The rent is very affordable.”
“You aren’t
paying me any rent!”
“That’s why
I said it’s affordable.”
“Let me get
this straight. I kidnapped you, and now you’re refusing to leave?”
“That’s
correct.”
Well, he did
leave when I threatened him with that pipe, but I wasn’t a big fan of how I
felt afterwards. My eyes unconsciously went to the pipe that lay where I’d last
dropped it.
“Don’t.” His
tone was icy. Did the pipe hurt him?
“The only
way to get you out of my house seems to be threatening you with that pipe, so
if you don’t want me to take another swing, you should leave.”
He sunk to
the floor, looking defeated. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Whatever my
reasons were, they don’t matter now. I want you out.”
“This must
be very odd for you.”
“What?”
He moved
only his eyes to look at me. “Your victims likely begged for their release
until they lost their voices, and now, you are begging your victim to leave.
How ironic. Tell me, did you ever let one of them go? Did you ever take pity on
them?”
There was no
real way for him to know if others had been where he was. I refused to admit
anything.
“Or did you
merely play games with them and give them false hope? You said I could earn my
freedom. Are you still willing to play those games, Jimena, in the hope that
you might be rid of me if you win?”
About Nina Schluntz:
Nina
Schluntz is a native to rural Nebraska. In her youth, she often wrote short
stories to entertain her friends. Those ideas evolved into the novels she
creates today.
Her husband continues to ensure her stories maintain a touch of realism as she
delves into the science fiction and fantasy realm. Their three cats are always
willing to stay up late to provide inspiration, whether it is a howl from the
stray born in the backyard or an encouraging bite from the so called “calming
kitten.”
Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | TikTok | Goodreads
Giveaway Details:
1 winner
will win a $10 Amazon GC, International.
2 winners
will receive an audible or iTunes code for one of Nina’s books, International.
Ends February 28th, midnight EST.
Tour Schedule:
Week One:
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2/13/2023 |
Guest Post |
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2/13/2023 |
Guest Post or Excerpt/IG Post |
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2/14/2023 |
Guest Post/IG Post |
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2/14/2023 |
Review/IG Post |
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2/15/2023 |
Guest Post/IG Post |
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2/15/2023 |
Guest Post/IG Post |
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2/16/2023 |
IG Review |
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2/16/2023 |
Excerpt |
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2/17/2023 |
Excerpt |
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2/17/2023 |
IG Review |
Week Two:
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2/20/2023 |
Review/IG Post |
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2/20/2023 |
Review |
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2/21/2023 |
Review |
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2/21/2023 |
IG Review |
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2/22/2023 |
Review |
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2/22/2023 |
Review/IG Post |
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2/23/2023 |
IG Review/FB Post |
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2/23/2023 |
Review/IG Post |
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2/24/2023 |
Review/IG Post |
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2/24/2023 |
IG Review |
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