Where The Wicked Read.... My Spot To Talk About, Review, Share My Love Of Books, and Anything Else That Comes To Mind..

Thursday, August 14, 2014




The world has broken out in wars. Las Vegas has been ravaged by chemical warfare and is now home to several clans and creatures.

Welcome to I-D-8 Entertainment’s newest game: Clans of Vegas—Endless Night.

Friends and family have gathered for a crunch time playtest of C.O.V.E.N.. When a horrible thunderstorm hits, everyone’s sucked into the game for real. In the MMORPG, Hope Collins is kidnapped by Buzz and forced to submit to his whims. Her boyfriend, Alden, has to delay his quest of defeating a clan’s prince to save her, but time and circumstance don’t seem to be on his side. Faith Collins is bombarded by strange dreams brought on by Buzz. Her boyfriend, Tavis, learns to dream walk, but can he help break the spell she’s under and save her before she’s lost to him?

C.O.V.E.N. is more than just a game. It’s a whole other world.


Hope appeared in the middle of what looked to be a homeless shelter. It wasn’t what she’d pictured back at…

She shook her head and scratched it. Where’d she come from? Where was it that she wanted to go? Her mind acted like a blank chalkboard being looked at through a fisheye lens. Writing appeared hazy and indecipherable on the outer edges of the sphere, but the blackness in the middle was clean.

Her body tensed, reacted as if she should run. With wide eyes, she surveyed the area. People on chairs and benches were scattered through the large room. Broken windows and shattered glass doors at the entrance looked out upon a gray day. The other way revealed an opening to a courtyard type parking lot with long carports on the perimeter.

A young, Goth-looking cashier with black hair, white makeup and piercings in her lips, eyebrows and ears, gaped at her as if she had grown a pair of horns and sprouted a third eye in the middle of her forehead.

Hope wavered, trying to reconcile what was happening. She knew her name, knew that she had a family and wanted to be a dancer? But anything else? “Where am I? How’d…how’d I get here?” Her voice faltered over the questions. She stared at the teen.

“You in the ol’ bus term.” The goth snapped the gum in her mouth. “How ya got ‘ere is beyon’ me. Ya jist kinda appeared outta nothing.”

Another teen in his goth phase came up to them. “Yeah. Poof. There you be. Totes mcgotes cray-cray.”

“But I don’t want to be here.” Tears of frustration pooled in Hope’s eyes. She swiped at them. She was tired. She was hungry. She was dirty and hot. In the time she’d been in the bus station, dry, oven-like air had sapped all the moisture from her skin. She believed she was a walking piece of water-depleted, brittle clay, which would crumble into dust and blow away with the slightest touch.

“Then flash on outta ‘ere like ya did to git ‘ere.” The goth’s voice was monotone with no vestige of sympathy.

Hope closed her eyes, did her best to picture a place to go to, but none came to mind. Try as she might to ‘flash on out,’ she continued to stand amongst a bunch of uncaring strangers.

The goth shook her head and ran her black-nailed fingers through her hair. “Guess ya usin’ the door like the rest o’ us.” She chomped on her gum a few times, then tilted her head toward the exit.


Inspiration on becoming a writer

I believe deep down I was always meant to be a writer. When I was younger, way back many years, my family and I lived in a rural area. Because of this, I didn’t have a neighborhood full of children to play with, so I had to learn to entertain myself. I’d make up stories and use my stuffed animals as an audience. I’d dream up different scenarios of the fairy tales I used to read.

It wasn’t until middle school, though, that I got hit in the head with the proverbial brick. I was in my sixth grade English class and was handed a paper back with an A on it. That’s when the voice inside told me that I was going to be a writer. I started reading more ‘grown up’ type books (VC Andrews to name one author I read back then) and started writing poetry and more stories. I submitted my first story when I was twelve. Granted, it didn’t get published, and I have no idea what happened to it, but that was my start.

Then in high school in my freshman year, a friend of mine (who is now my hubby BTW) lent me a Stephen King novel. I realized then what type of stories I wanted to focus on. I took a creative writing class in high school, entered teen arts festivals, and went to college with a focus on interpersonal communications and English.

When my husband and I moved to Texas, I became friends with a wonderful woman who lent me a Jude Deveraux book - A Knight in Shining Armor. That’s when I was inspired to write romance as well as horror. It’s also the reason why I have two pen names now. Under my C.R. name I write lighter romance and erotic romance. Under my Casey name you’ll find more intense stories with and without romantic elements. For more about my Casey pen name, please visit http://caseymossbooks.com/author/


Casey Moss delves into the darker aspects of life in her writing, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the light-hearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore…

~ Author Links ~

~ Buy Links ~


Casey will be awarding a $25.00 Gift Certificate to Amazon or B&N to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour, and a $10 Gift Certificate to Amazon or B&N to a randomly drawn host.

 a Rafflecopter giveaway


  1. Thanks for having me on and spotlighting my story!

  2. Cool idea for a book! Can't wait to read.


  4. I love these types of blog posts because they introduce me to new books and authors that I wouldn'tve otherwise known about :) Thanks for the giveaway!

  5. I love the author! She seems so quirky and cool :)

  6. Awesome guest post! It's great that your write in different genres. Thanks for sharing!


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