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Crimson Oppression

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A girl with no family leaves the only home she’s known to protect herself from a new bloody addiction, only to find that she needs to protect someone else from the very thing she’s running from…

A boy with the worst case of deadly accidents behind him unknowingly faces a Virus… and a girl who shows up out of nowhere and throws his whole sense of reality out of whack as he tries to rebuild his broken family.

Cisandra feels a responsibility to help Owen… even if helping him could mean the end of both of them.

A Virus fatally plagues them both in different ways, proving that blood isn’t redder on either side.

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What people say about Crimson Oppression:

“I read Mikael Short’s novel Crimson Oppression and … The novel is a powerful read: a heroine Cisandra, which she’s moved on to from Sandra, with a problem that forces the reader to go on until it’s resolved. It’s a blood disease, a version of which actually exists, which leads to something akin to vampirism, and in Cisandra’s case, extraordinary tragedy. The style is first person narrative from the points of view of more than one character, one at a time in revolving fashion, which makes it lively, exciting, and diverse in tone. If you’re inclined to dismiss it as another vampire novel, don’t. It’s a high school situation and behind the threat of this deadly, hereditary disease, there are issues of family, love, social pressure, and religion. Good read.” – Leonard Goodisman

GuardianThe Guardian

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What happens when you’re responsible for ushering souls to the afterlife? Shannon, the new Guardian of Souls, is about to find out. Discover the dark and the light in this short story about a reaper torn between the living and the dead.

What people say about The Guardian:

“YOUR BOOK IS INCREDIBLE! #allthefeels Seriously one of the top short stories I’ve read.”– Jackie Pearce

“I don’t even like reading, but I like this!” – Spencer Lott

“I loved it! Such a cool twist.” – Amanda Layton


Pulling up the cloak of night around him, Shannon arose from the ground with the scythe in hand, finding himself surrounded by the stone markers of death. Most of the graves punctured the ground like nails while some stone stood tall as though spreading roots of despair beneath them to help them stay upright. Yet beyond the cemetery, he saw nothing. He still was earthbound, and he didn’t know why.

All he knew was that he was dead.

A full, round moon shone on this first night of the year, the sky an inky black as though the devil himself had eliminated the stars with one sweep of his cruel hand, leaving only the moon as a means of light.

Shannon nearly shuddered when he realized what must be behind him. As he turned slowly around, he saw an unmarked grave. No stone stood to say, “Here lies Shannon Barnard, loving son and friend.” The patch of grass on his grave was the only clear plot in the cemetery, the rest of the ground dusted with snow. The part of his soul that remained ached. He wanted to cry but he found he had no voice, no way to scream to the heavens the unfairness of it all.

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