Dark Tomorrow by Jeremiah Franklin New Release with Giveaway @chapterxchapter @franklinauthor @Month9Books


Welcome to the Release Day Celebration for
Dark Tomorrow by Jeremiah Franklin
presented by Month9Books!
Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!


HAPPY BOOK BIRTHDAY, JEREMIAH!


When a deadly virus decimates the majority of Earth's population, 16-year-old Sawyer Bradshaw finds he is both immune and alone in a world that has descended into violent chaos. Armed with only his estranged father's shotgun, and an unrelenting desire to stay alive, Sawyer discovers that he not only has an uncanny knack for cheating death, but also for taking lives. Still, it is not long before he meets his match in a fierce and cunning teenage girl named Sara and by her side Sawyer emerges as more than just a natural-born killer, but also as a leader among men. Nevertheless, as quick as the young survivors fall desperately in love, they find themselves caught up in a series of conspiracies and twisted struggles for power, and they soon realize that more often than not, love, betrayal, and death, tend to walk hand in hand.  




Dark Tomorrow by Jeremiah Franklin Publisher: Month9Books Publication Date: September 18, 2018




Read our review here


EXCERPT

Chapter 15
Sawyer and Sara returned to the Mission walking side by side, but within seconds of entering the compound, Sara looked over at Sawyer and wrinkled her nose.
“What is that smell? And what’s up with the crows?”
The putrid smell of death was heavy in the air, and Sawyer took one look at the mass of crows hovering in the corner of the compound and suddenly remembered the corpse he had dumped two days before. He looked over at the girl.
“Why don’t you go check on your father, and I’ll see what’s going on?”
He left Sara and took off running toward the far corner, the sickening smell and the shrieking of the crows growing stronger with each step. He rounded the corner of the last structure blocking his view and stopped cold, the scene unfolding before him like something straight out of a horror film. The crows had somehow managed to expose the man’s dead body, and the hovering swarm above it looked like a single, malevolent organism, the birds lost in a feeding frenzy as they tore at the flesh of the mutilated corpse.
The boy had seen it all before, on the day of his mother’s death, and he could picture it as if it were yesterday. Her body left unguarded for only a few minutes. The sound of the crows’ screeching. The sight of her face. Her eyes gone. Her lips missing. The crows taunting him from the trees above, beaks still wet with blood. To Sawyer, it was as if it were happening all over again, and in a rage, he took hold of the barrel of the shotgun and let the adrenaline hit him full force.
All Sawyer could see was red and death and destruction, and he rushed into the mass of feathered bodies as if possessed. He swung the shotgun with deadly accuracy, the heavy stock crushing the life out of any crow within range of his swing, his boots kicking and smashing until the ground was littered with the bloody feathers of dead crow. It was all over in less than a minute, and the surviving crows took to the air and hovered above him, their cries echoing across the compound. Sawyer bared his teeth and shouted back at the birds, the crows going mad as he slammed his heel down and smashed the head of one of their wounded comrades.
Still glaring upward, he crushed the life out of several other injured birds before he finally wiped the blood off the Mossberg and slipped it over his shoulder. He looked down at the dead man and shook his head. The body was in a horrific state: the eyes, nose, lips, and ears torn from what was left of the head, the stomach cavity ripped open, the man’s entrails pulled in every direction like strings of wet confetti on the ground. Several small, pink, unidentifiable body parts lay spread around the man, and Sawyer grimaced as he noticed a strip of hair-covered scalp still stuck in the beak of a dead crow near the body. He kicked the dead crow as hard as he could and yelled into the sky.
“Goddamn it! Goddamn it all!”
Sawyer suddenly felt eyes watching him, and he turned to see that Sara and Mason were standing only a few feet behind him. Sawyer’s face and hands were splattered with blood, and there was a mixture of anger and embarrassment on his face. He looked over at Sara.
“How long have you been standing there?”
Sara shrugged.
“Long enough, I guess. Are you OK?”
Sawyer shook his head.
“No. I’m not OK. But it’s a long story, and I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Sawyer walked past them and headed back toward the main house. He sat down on the porch and looked down at his feet, a few bloody feathers still pasted to his boots. Sara walked over and sat down beside him. They rested in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before she finally spoke, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“So, I take it that you don’t like crows very much, huh?” Sawyer gave her a look that said he was not in the mood to talk, and Sara took the hint. She smiled sweetly.
“It’s OK. I don’t like them much, either. I mean, of all the animals, it had to be the crows that take over the world? I guess now we know that we have at least one more thing in common.”
Sawyer smiled weakly, and he turned and faced her. He was not yet prepared to talk about his mother’s death, or what the crows had done to her, and he wanted to change the subject.
“So, how is your father? Was he able to keep those pills down?”
“Yes. Hopefully they will do him some good. Thanks so much again.”
Sawyer sighed and pulled a bloody feather from the sole of his boot.
“You’re welcome. Look, I didn’t know that you were both watching. I kind of lost control for a minute there. Will that upset Mason?”
Sara shrugged.
“You never know with him. He never talks about it, but I think he came from a pretty messed up situation. I’m guessing he’s seen a lot worse. To be honest, it seemed like he kind of liked it.”
Sawyer raised his eyebrows.
“He liked it?”
Sara shook her head.
“I think so. And you know what is even more strange?”
“What’s that?”
The girl pulled a second bloody feather from the bottom of Sawyer’s boot and held it up in the sunlight.
“In a weird way, I think I kind of liked it, too.”

Jeremiah Franklin is a former private investigator, arm-chair survivalist, and author of the Dark Tomorrow trilogy. When he is not creating thrilling post-apocalyptic worlds, or discussing himself in the third person, the author enjoys reading, staying active, and spending time outdoors with family and friends. He holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology, a Master’s Degree in Education, and several other certifications that no one really cares about.