Tuesday, January 20, 2015

The Devil at Play By Marcus Damanda ~ The Devil in Miss Drake's Class ~Giveaway ~

The Devil at Play
The Devil in Miss Drake's Class, 3
By Marcus Damanda

$10 Evernight Teen Gift Card. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter.


When I was thirteen years old, I wrote a little kidnapping thriller I was very proud of called The Falcons. I know—real original title, huh? I’d already been a writer (a term I apply to anyone who does it for fun, not just because they’re told to) since I was nine. But that was the year, and that was the story, when I started imagining “soundtracks” to my tales.
The Falcons got written in my living room, not my bedroom, while I played the songs from the Kevin Bacon movie Footloose on repeat, over and over. And, yeah, the teeny-bopper dance tracks may seem wildly incongruous at first estimation for a kidnapping thriller, but if you listen to some of those tracks, and if you were to read that story … Well, the song Never has a lot of desperation and hope in it. And Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out for a Hero … Okay. I was thirteen. Give me a break, already.
Up until recently, I honestly thought the whole make-a-dream-soundtrack-for-my-book thing was something only I did. Now I see it’s a common thing, and they get posted everywhere. So, with that in mind, I figured I’d share my latest dream soundtrack with you—not just for The Devil at Play (available NOW! They make great late Christmas gifts!), but for the whole trilogy.
The thing is, I don’t listen to these “soundtracks” while I write anymore. I write in total silence, then I celebrate the session with a listening afterwards. Usually I’m playing a video game by then, while scribbling fresh ideas on notecards. And I do utilize those songs during revision. They run over and over and over, once I get to that point.
I got on a real KONGOS kick while doing the trilogy version of these PARTICULAR stories (the original single-book version had a different soundtrack). Some of the songs, like the first track by Pink Floyd and I’m Only Joking, are lyrically good matches for the themes in the books. Others just connect in a purely sonic way. They’re in order, each pertaining to a particular scene or character from the books. Have fun guessing them out, if you have a mind. Anyway, here they are:

Another Brick in the Wall Part 3 (not to be confused with Part 2, the radio hit)—Pink Floyd
I’m Only Joking—Kongos
Trance Awake—Lacuna Coil
The Beautiful People—Marilyn Manson
Planetary (GO!)—My Chemical Romance
Kids These Days—Kongos
This Time I Won’t Forget—Kongos
March of the Damned—Judas Priest

(The biggest book in the trilogy has the shortest soundtrack. Go figure.)

Teenagers—My Chemical Romance
Numb—Linkin Park
The Nobodies—Marilyn Manson
Hey, I Don’t Know—Kongos
Useless Talent #32—Rose McGowan, from the Grindhouse soundtrack


Zombie Dance—Escape the Fate
Nowhere Kids—Shinedown
Trap Door—Ozzy Osbourne
Whispers in the Dark—Skillet
Wish—Nine Inch Nails
Spider Baby—Fantomas
Bye Bye Beautiful—Nightwish
Two Against the World—Rose McGowan, from the Grindhouse soundtrack
The Old Account Was Settled Long Ago—Johnny Cash, the live version from At San Quentin

“Everyone loves the devil until they know him. Until they see him for what he really is.” 

Nobody ever did, even as the bodies started to pile up. 

But now, too late for it to matter, Audrey understands at last. The devil of Fairview has been courting her for days, and watching her for much longer than that. The murderer is her boyfriend—and he’s been killing on her behalf. 

His name is Jack Maddox, but everyone calls him Mad Jack. He’s planning a party, where everyone is invited, especially Audrey’s tormentors—especially the Facebook Fifteen. 

Audrey will have her revenge, whether she wants it or not. 

Because, in Miss Drake’s class, the devil will have his due.

14+ due to violence and adult situations

Buy Links:  

Evernight Teen    Amazon


As he cleaned the knife, she fought her way back to the surface. Eventually, she managed words. “I still don’t know which parts of this were real. Or if I’m completely crazy.”
“You’re not crazy, Audrey,” he reassured her. “You never were. No more than I was. And you’re not crazy now. Just the opposite, in fact.”
When she let the silence stretch again, making it meaningful, he continued.
“Your problem is the same as mine. You see things how they really are, and it makes you sad. Makes you angry. What happened here wasn’t a hallucination. What happened here was justice—for you.”
Polishing the blade, he glanced at her sidelong, expectantly.
He’s holding a knife, she said to herself. And spoke her mind anyway. “I’m nothing like you.”
He smiled. “You’re nicer than me, that’s for sure. No contest.”
“You’re… like the devil, Jack.” Please don’t kill me. You can read my thoughts, I know it now. You’ll know if I lie. I’m being honest with you. I want the truth.
“The devil?” Jack said, chuckling. “Not sure if I believe in ‘the devil.’ Never been to the other side, either way. But I know from pictures he has red skin, pointy tail, horns, carries a pitchfork… usually has pretty big eyebrows.”
Audrey put her hand over his wrists, stopped his polishing. “No, Jack,” she said. “The devil is far too smart to look like that. Everyone loves the devil, until they know him. Until they see him for what he really is.”
They regarded each other.
“Does this mean we can’t be friends?” he joked. “Bet you never thought you’d have first period English with the devil.”
“No,” she said. “I never did.”
“By your description,” Jack said, his smile fading. “The devil was in Miss Drake’s class. But it wasn’t me.”
“Jack,” Audrey said, giving up. “I want to go home. Can I go home, please?”
“Soon,” he said, tossing the knife in the sink, turning around, and leaning up against it. “You have to do something for me first. Don’t worry. I don’t think you’ll have a problem with it. I hope not, anyway.”
Audrey narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t afraid. After tonight, she didn’t know if she had any fear left in her. “What?” she asked.
“In order for you to understand the ‘what,’” he said. “You first have to understand who Ireally am. Completely—or at least as much as I understand, myself. Time is short, so pay attention.”
Audrey listened.

About the Author:

Marcus Damanda lives in Woodbridge, Virginia with his cat, Shazam. At various times throughout his life, he played bass guitar for the garage heavy metal band 

Mother’s Day, wrote for The Dale City Messenger, and published editorials in The Potomac News and The Freelance Star. Currently, while not plotting his next foray into fictitious suburban mayhem, he spoils his nieces and nephews and teaches middle school English.

Find Marcus Damanda here:

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