Author Spotlight with Sean Kerr

We are very excited to have Sean Kerr for our Author Spotlight today. Sean is the Author of The Dead Camp Series and Hush Little Baby.

Hi everyone, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Sean Kerr, and I am a 47-year-old gay man living in Cardiff, Wales with my husband of 28 years, Derek. We have two cats, Rita and Harry, and a host of tropical fish.

By day, I am an Interior designer, and I have had a shop, Home Zone, in Cardiff with my amazing business partner, Jayne for eleven and a half years. It has and continues to be a struggle. The recession hit a few years after we opened, and it has been challenging, to say the least. I consider myself to be lucky though because the shop pays me a wage, and I have been lucky enough to furnish my house with lovely things because of it, and I really do have some spectacular curtains lol.

I worked on building sites for years, and I used the money earned from that to put myself through college, specialist paint techniques etc. I trained in fine art, and then I went out and painted murals on client’s walls, and created Roman Bathrooms and fantasy hand painted bedrooms, all the rage back in the late eighties and nineties. I then became an Interior Designer for a large DIY chain, and that is where I met Jayne, my business partner, and the rest is history.

By night I am an Author, and I am very proud to be an author for Extasy Books. It took me some years to get to this point. I spent a very long time trying to get an agent because I thought it was the right thing to do, and after a heck of a lot of refusals, I nearly gave up. I came so close to hitting the delete button on Dead Camp 1 because I thought I did not stand a chance. At the very last moment, I decided to have a go at approaching a few publishers directly, and I sent the manuscript to six. Within two weeks, I had offers of publication from three! Let’s just say that there may have been tears lol. It was my chance, at last, to become a part of a world that I have always loved and admired from a distance, and it is one of the very best things that has ever happened to me.

I currently have three books under my belt in my Dead Camp series, as well as a short novella called Hush Little Baby. Dead Camp is my take on the Vampire genre, a Paranormal Romance series that is set against a backdrop of World War 2. However, the series uses key moments from History to tell one enormous saga, and I have loved every single moment of writing it. There will be five books in the Dead Camp series.

Hush is a pure horror story with more than a nod towards such classic programmes as The Twilight Zone and Tales of The Unexpected. The project happened just after I completed Dead Camp 3 and it is a story that I had to get out of my system. It’s definitely a different beast to my Vampire saga, and I hope it will make you go to bed with the lights on lol!

As I write this, I am finishing my first edits on Dead Camp 4 which I hope to release upon an unsuspecting world very soon. There is one last book to write in the Dead Camp series after this, and I will feel very sad to leave it behind. Yet, at the same time, I am so proud of this saga which has been such an important part of my life for the last couple of years. I love writing, so very much. It has always been my dream, and the wonderful Extasy Books has made my dream come true, and it is a world that I am totally in love with. It is a world I hope to be a part of for a very long time to come.

We are now privileged as Sean delves into some of the deleted scenes from the Dead Camp Series which he shares with us exclusively.

It’s a funny thing, writing a book. You start out by planning your characters and the plot because one cannot exist without the other. As with all stories, conflict drives the narrative forward, so I like to plan each book in a series before I start the process of committing it to a word document. The Dead Camp series required a huge amount of research because of its Historical nature and the real-life characters that inhabit it. Each book, the events that take place within, all of that had to be in place as I structured the plot, and mapped out the conflict for each individual. It was a complex process, but one I enjoyed immensely.

When you sit down to write, things change. Scenes that you planned, that you saw in every detail within your mind's eye, change and transform. Sometimes this is for the better, and sometimes it can be infuriating. There are a few scenes in the Dead Camp universe that I had planned from the very beginning, scenes that I so wanted to commit to paper, but, for one reason or another, they had to go, or change. Sometimes if feels as though we try to shoehorn these scenes into a book because we damn well want to write them, we planned them, and therefore they bloody well must be in there! No. Try as we may, if it doesn’t work, if the characteristic of the work feels wrong, then it must go, no matter how much we love them. There were a few scenes like that for me.

Most of the scenes found a home in a different place as the books progressed. A few I could switch with a different character, but there were one or two that I felt very sad to lose, but such is the nature of the writing process. Sometimes, however, a scene must change because it is too ‘graphic’ or ‘unsavoury’ to remain as it is, and it is two such scenes as these that I wish to share with you today.

One of the best days of my life was the day I found Extasy Books and signed a publishing contract with them for my five Dead Camp books. They gave me a team of people to work with, a team of astonishing professionals whom I feel blessed to work with. One of these very special people, is Laura McNellis, my editor. Wow, what an extraordinary woman she is, and what a love she has for her craft. Laura loves the written word, and she is superb at what she does. Many authors seem to dread the editing process, but I relish working with Laura every time I send her a manuscript. I know what will happen. Laura will read the book, and send back the first round of edits, and in the margins, will be the most incredible notes, most of which make me howl with laughter, the odd one I may contest, but all of it with the sole aim of making the work even better. That is what an editor does, they help the author to hone their work and make it shine. Laura shines, like a star. However, in Dead Camp book 1, and Dead Camp book 2, there were two scenes that proved to be highly contentious.

I wrote book 1 and 2 before I had a publisher, so I had no idea about house rules, or what is acceptable to read and what subjects push it over the edge of good taste. So the following two scenes had to be rewritten to conform to house rules and make it more palatable. I happen to think that Laura and Extasy books are absolutely right about these scenes, and I am glad they asked me to change them slightly. You, however, may think differently. I would be very interested to know what you think, so please send in a comment.

The first scene to change is from Dead Camp book 1. It is the chapter that covers Isaiah Nathan Silberman’s diary. Towards the end of the chapter, Isaiah confronts the Mother and Father in a crypt of a church, and in the original version, Ade rapes Isaiah. It was an uncomfortable scene to write, even though I kept it reasonably subtle, but the original version is far more graphic than the version that appears in the published book. So, it is my pleasure to present to you a section of this chapter, so that you may compare my original version to that you have read.

Dead Camp book 1, Chapter Thirteen: The Diaries of Isaiah Nathan Silberman

Klingsor leant forward and smelled the air before him, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.

'Ahh, the smell of sweet innocence, so intoxicating yes? And here we are, blessed with two such creatures, how opportune! There is nothing more abhorrent to the eyes of God than the corruption of such innocence.'

Adi smirked slyly as the meaning of Klingsor's words begun to sink in.

'No! Over my dead body! You will have to kill me first if you think I am going to stand by and let you do that!'

'Oh come now dear boy, let's not be dramatic! You are of interest to me, I told you that, what a great shame it would be to allow such a talent to go to waste! I'm sure that we can come to some sort of…arrangement?'

'Anything, I will do anything…to spare her, please, what must I do?'

'Two things actually, but the second one will not be asked of you for a while, but rest assured that I will come for you Isaiah, you will be of use to me, but for now you will remove your clothing and get on your hands and knees before the Black Messiah.'

Eva pulled away from me, her face full of pleading, full of dread.

'Isaiah no, please, you cannot do this, let them have me, for the sake of your own sanity let them do to me as they will.' She rushed once more into my arms and sobbed into my chest, her voice a barely audible whisper. 'I wanted it to be you Isaiah, my beloved, but if I have to do this to save you then I will do it. Just promise me, promise me that you will still love me, and still want me afterwards.'

Her big green eyes looked at me with such intensity, such desperation that I could barely hold back the sob that escaped my own throat. I held her tightly and I kissed her forehead. No one was going to touch her, not while I still breathed. I looked across at Klingsor and gave him an almost imperceptible nod at which point a black-uniformed guard came forward and wrestled Eva from my grasp.

'No, Isaiah, you mustn't, let me be the one, for the love of God let me do this!' she screamed as the guard dragged her away from me. I slipped off my shoes and began to strip. 'Isaiah no! No!'

I slipped off my undergarments and hunkered down on all fours facing Klingsor who sat back on his throne with a smug expression plastered across his inhuman face. Maria perched on his knee, her hand between his legs, stroking his manhood that bulged through his trousers and that thing, the shrouded thing behind them twitched with excitement, piercing yellow eyes blazing with anticipation. I felt Adi move behind me. It was all a dream, nothing but a terrible dream. I bowed my head in shame.

'Look at me little Jew,' demanded Klingsor. 'Do not take your eyes away from me.'

I gritted my teeth and looked up to see that Maria had freed his penis from his trousers and was beginning to pleasure him with her hands.

I felt Adi's painfully strong fingers grip my sides as he entered me. The pain was beyond anything that I have ever experienced before, a burning agony that ripped at my insides but I held my tongue gripped between my clenched teeth, determined not to cry out as the tears streamed down my face. I could hear Eva crying to the side of me but I would not look at her.

Maria began to move her hands faster and faster and Klingsor began to twitch on his throne, a low guttural moan issuing from his wide mouth. Adi began to move faster too and I prayed silently that this torture would soon be over. His fingers dug into my sides like knives and he too began to grunt. I could feel something warm running down my legs and I feared that the blood pouring from my ravaged body meant that I would no longer be capable of being a man. My shame, the pain, was unendurable.

Suddenly Klingsor let out a loud cry as thick black ejaculate shot from his penis into her open mouth. She lapped it up greedily. At the same time, Adi moaned and his rhythmic pounding began to lessen and I could feel his entire body trembling against my bared flesh. He pulled out of me suddenly and I tasted blood in my mouth as my teeth pierced my tongue, but I did not scream, despite the searing pain that exploded through my groin. I stood up quickly, desperate to cover myself, blood running down my legs in a steady, merciless stream. My insides were on fire as the pain blossomed through my bowels and the pain almost made me give into the darkness that threatened to blanket my eyes. Adi knelt in a pool of his own blood, the foreskin shredded back from his engorged penis that bled freely onto the floor.

'Look what you did to me you tight Jew!'

I fell backwards, my legs shaking so much that they were unable to support my weight. Eva rushed to my side, cradling my head in her arms and I grabbed my discarded clothes in an attempt to cover myself from her eyes.

Sean:This is a ‘rough cut’, the only version of this scene that still exists. The difference to the finished work is subtle, but it is in the subtly that the problem lies. The subject matter is a difficult one, and even though I tried to handle it with sensitivity, it still jarred and felt unnecessary in the overall scheme of things. So, Extasy, Laura, and I reworked this scene so that it felt more comfortable, a brief hint of the horror Isaiah endured which concentrated more on his fears of being able to father a child than the act of violation.

The second scene I would like to share with you is from Dead Camp book 2.

Sean: I still have mixed feelings about this scene. I loved the original cut, it was so raw, so cruel, so visceral. It was a moment of pure gut-churning horror in a chapter already filled with so much horror. However, again my amazing editor proved her wisdom, because the horror within the story had already built to quite a level, but it was a horror of reality, not the cartoon death that this scene originally portrayed. It felt a bit unreal, and graphic, in a book that was hurtling towards a tremendously emotional finale. So we worked on it, toned it down, and I felt the book read far better for it. Still, I look at the scene now and wish I could have made it work in its original format lol. It deals with the Kapo, a particularly unpleasant man who made the lives of the prisoners inside the death camp Hell on Earth. Earlier in the story, I lay my plans for his demise, and Eli imagines how he will dispose of the vile human. When we get to the nitty gritty of it, Eli realises his plans with grisly intent. Sorry, I still cannot help but smirk at the cruelty and violence of this original scene. Is that wrong of me?

I saw a figure fleeing through the maze of buildings to my left, a blur of black and white stripe. It was my Kapo.

I ran along the ridge of the roof with him fleeing just below me, running as though the Devil himself bit at his heels, and I was! I reached the apex of the roof and threw myself into the night, soaring through the darkness with nothing but the wind whistling against my body to make a sound. I landed in a tight crouch before the terrified Kapo who fell backwards onto the floor with strangled yelp, and I unfurled before him, slowly, deliberately, like a precious flower greeting the sun, my arms stretching out as I stood, all in one beautifully smooth movement. The howl of panic that escaped from the Kapo’s lips sent a thrill of excitement coursing through my loins, and I was hard.

'Not so fucking smart, now are you?'

'Stay away from me…stay away from me you fucking freak!' He scuttled backwards, fear bubbling and frothing from his lips. I walked towards him slowly, inhaling the intense cloud of fright that drenched the space around him, tasting his adrenalin on my tongue, fucking delicious!

'How many have died at your hands?'

'Not enough of you fucking freaks!' he spat defiantly. My hand flashed out and grabbed his arm. I twisted and pulled. The Kapo screamed in agony as bone and skin crunched and split, and I felt the joint pop out of his shoulder. He felt it too.

'Not so fucking chopsy now are we?' The skin wound so tightly around the joint that it split like a popped balloon, and the Kapo howled into the night as I pulled the limb free, blood pumping from the wound. I brought the dripping stump up to my face and sniffed, my nose wrinkling with disgust.

'Your blood is so fucking rank that not even I would drink it!'

He writhed around on the floor, blood spurting across the muddy ground as he tried to stem the flow with his one good hand.

'Go to…hell…cock sucker!'

There was just no helping some people.

I hunkered down and ripped his trousers from around his wriggling legs. A torrent of harsh language and filth punctuated his agonising screams as my sharp nails tore at his exposed flesh. I grabbed his ankles and flipped him over.

'You going to fuck my tight ass you filthy bastard?'

'I'm more of a bottom man myself. No, you're going to fuck yourself!'

I picked up the severed limb, and I thrust it up his ass, fingers first. The Kapo let out a blood-curdling scream as his own fingernails ripped into the tender flesh of his anus. He was tight and I met with much resistance, but I persevered, adjusting the angle of the limb until I felt it slip in, the fingers crunching into a ball, but his blood helped lubricate the motion until the limb entered fist first. Barely a hiss escaped from the Kapo’s purple lips, but his eyes bulged out of his skull, and I could no longer see the hand or wrist because they had penetrated his ass so deeply. Blood loss and excruciating pain started to take their toll, and his head lolled around loosely on his shoulders, but I didn't give a shit. With a gut heaving slurp, I gave one final shove, just for good measure, and the limb disappeared up to the elbow.

I bent over his shuddering body and whispered into his dying ear. 'How satisfying to know that you can take more than a finger!'

I left him like that, to die in a pool of his own shit and blood, his body a wrecked parody of all that he detested. It was a fitting end for someone who helped kill so many, and I did it without pleasure, without mercy and without remorse.

The sound of sporadic gunfire and screams filled my ears, so I flew to the rooftops once more. Hope had fanned the flames of renewed faith and turned the tide against the oppressors; the Nazi's were losing.

Sean: I loved the blood and gore horror films of the eighties and early nineties. Maybe that explains my love for this scene. As I wrote it, I wanted it to feel vile, excessive, gory, and I wanted my reader to laugh at the ludicrous nature of the violence. But, in the end, my Laura was right. It felt too cartoony in a book that is so very far removed from that kind of overt violence. The changes we made alluded to the insertion of the arm and the finished version is very different. It was the right choice to make, even though I still lament its loss lol.

So there we have it. Two scenes that had to change because they did not fit in with the feel of the books as they developed. Both of these scenes I had planned from the very beginning, but it only goes to show how a story develops, how characters change and evolve as we write to change the best-laid plans of mice and men. That, in all its infuriating glory, is the joy of writing. It evolves even as we place each word upon the page, it mutates into something that we do not always anticipate. It is so exciting!

Thank you for indulging me in my reminiscence. I have really enjoyed looking back at these segments, badly written rough cuts as they may be! I will leave you for now, for I am about to start the final book in this series, Dead Camp 5, and I am sure there will be more deleted scenes to come!

WOW! That was riveting! Thank you so much Sean for sharing these deleted scenes with us. We are going to now have a look at Excerpts from Dead Camp One, Two and Three.

The musings of the Beautiful Malachi

I am about to follow Eli into more hell than I can shake a stick at. What am I doing, I ask myself? Really? Is there anything I will not do for love? The answer is simple my friends, I would do anything for him, for that hunk of masculine meat, with his bulging…. arms…and flat, rippled stomach. Oh please, do not look at me like that, if you could see what I see every day, then you would too! I feel his pain, I see it etched upon his beautiful face, I see it lurking behind those spectacular eyes, a darkness so terrible that it burns, and how I long to wrap my arms around him in comfort…yes, I said comfort…get your mind out of the gutter. Having said that, there was that moment when I possessed that lovely soldier, and for a time I did feel him, every part of him, and it left me wanting more. The Angel would have me believe that my actions risk my eternal soul, but what is the point of having a soul without love to fill it? An eternity of insubstantial existence, without love, is too outrageous a notion to contemplate, and if I am to love a monster, if I want that monster to love me, then should I not in turn become a monster? So I will follow Eli into hell - I will risk damnation - because I love him, that enigmatic, selfish, damnably attractive Vampire, I love him, with every molecule of my being. Wish me luck my friends, because I have the feeling that I am going to need it.

Eli is an ancient vampire with an ego the size of a planet and a sex drive to match, but his tumultuous past left him broken, so he hides from humanity and cowers from love, left to endure the crushing guilt that haunts his every waking moment. Even his best friend, Malachi, a ghost who is hopelessly in love with Eli, remains unaware of all that transpired in London.

Malachi can never know the truth.

When the Angel Daniyyel pays an unwelcome visit, Eli must face his secrets, secrets that he has tried so long to hide. To make matters worse, a chance encounter with the most beautiful man he has ever seen shatters his beloved isolation, pushing him into the world of the living once more. Something about this strange man seems so familiar, but Eli can’t even remember who he was before he became a vampire, never mind explain the unwanted emotions the enigmatic stranger ignites in his dead heart. So Eli has a choice – return to the world that ruined him, or continue his self-imposed exile with no hope of salvation.

Not a shard of light penetrated the fingers clamped so tightly across my face, but not even the darkness could banish the squall that crashed through my mind and blackened my soul. Possessed women tearing themselves apart in a rage of demonic fury, exploding pictures that scorched themselves across my vision in a never-ending mind fuck.

But there was something else. The memory of a horror from a life left behind, a life I had spent sixty years escaping. It gnawed at the corners of my brain with infuriating persistence, a flicker of memory that tugged at my consciousness, an intangible familiarity that screamed at me to open my eyes and see. Every evocative word spoken by Ethan rang in my ears with a disturbing clang of some long forgotten acquaintance. And for the life of me, I could not put the pieces together.

So I buried my head and screamed into my arms, a wretched requiem for the remnants of my isolation. The world was knocking on my door and I would not open it. I did not want it. I did not need it. I certainly did not ask for it. But it was pulling me in with cruel, mocking whispers, taunting me with an inescapable destiny, drawing me back into a world that had already fucked me up the ass.

With every stomach churning thought, the knocking at my door grew louder. If I opened the door, it would be too late, they would see me, they would find me and I would be able to hide no longer.

I needed to hear the rest of his story. Then I would shit my pants.

The Black Messiah—my skin prickled at the name. The words toyed with me, so familiar, yet so lost to the shadows of my mind, lurking at the fringes of my memory. I felt darkness pressing against my back with inevitable certainty, and I was powerless to turn around and face it.

Never was a night so endless.

I felt the edge of my mattress sink. “You know, that trick of yours is starting to wear very thin very quickly.”

“Do not mock me, Eli, and besides, I like the feel of the mattress against my bum.”

“You like the feel of anything against your bum.” Even with my eyes covered, I could feel him sticking his tongue out at me.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️out of 5 stars Sean Kerr is a fantastic story teller

ByKiki Clarkon July 25, 2016

Format: Kindle Edition

**Originally Posted on Kiki's Kinky Picks** Reviewed by Brandy Dead Camp by Sean Kerr is a phenomenal first book in the Dead Camp series. I went into this story really unaware of what I would discover, but once I read that very first page, I was hooked. You could not tear me away from this book. I HAD to find out what was going to happen to our Eli. To say this book teases you with questions is an understatement. There are so many questions throughout the book and only a few are answered. Even with so many secrets in this book, it’s written so beautifully that you get caught up in the stories shared by the different characters. Sean Kerr is an evil genius. Eli is an ancient vampire who can’t remember how he was made, or who he once was. He has exiled himself to his secluded house Alte. His only friend is Malachi, a ghost who also doesn’t remember who he was before he died and who is achingly in love with Eli. Eli, however, has decided to harden his heart to love because the man he loved more than any other broke his and left him to be alone. SO sad. My heart broke for Eli. Then suddenly, after a visit from the angel Daniyyel, also a big yelling match, Eli runs away and into a horrific scene of death. He discovers among the dead bodies one lone man still alive, and guess what happens? MORE QUESTIONS! He saves said man and brings him to his home and then we learn of Ethan’s life and that of his father Isaiah. SO even though a ton more questions are starting to float around your head, a few from before are answered. This book is a marathon. You get pulled through so much in this book. It really leaves you drained but in the best way possible. How could I not give this one a 5 star rating? As soon as I finished it, with the unanswered questions still lingering in my mind, I simply HAD to get the second one! Highly recommend this book to anyone! Sean Kerr is a fantastic story teller who I hope continues to delight and awe!

The world is at war, a war determined to involve Eli, whether he likes it or not. Hitler, his dark army of feral vampires, and even the Devil himself, all conspire against Eli, leaving him no choice but to fight back, risking Malachi’s soul in the process. Eli is determined to find Ethan’s father, no matter the cost to himself or Malachi, and in a place filled with death and unending cruelty, Eli realizes that some truths should remain buried, and some truths are just too terrible to bear. When the old enemy, demons from Eli’s dark past, find him once more, they reveal a secret so impossible, so terrible, that it pushes Eli to the very edge of his endurance. They took his boyfriend from him once, and the secrets that they reveal about the man he once loved threaten to strip Eli of everything that he holds dear, pushing him to the edge of his sanity. Eli thought that he had nothing left to lose, but at Welwelsburg Concentration Camp, he realizes that he was very wrong.

He was such a young thing, frail and delicate, beautiful. He would have been lovely in another life. To my surprise, I read no fear in his face, just a burning curiosity behind his eyes and an intelligence that saw me for what I was. As I slipped into the showers, he offered me a gentle, kind smile, and the corners of my mouth flickered upward in response. I was grateful for his discretion and hoped I would have the opportunity to thank him, but in a place already full of horrors, I was the least of his troubles. I walked into a tunnel lined with cold white tiles. Showerheads protruded intermittently from the walls and they sprayed forth a noxious liquid that stank, a mix of disinfectant and ammonia. Prisoners standing along the opposite wall, each wielding long handled brooms, pushed us under the showerheads with brutal force, scrubbing our bodies with the rough unforgiving bristles. My hard vampire flesh thought nothing of the assault but I made a show of discomfort and pain all the same, unlike the others who suffered the burning purification in its entire skin-blistering entirety. Many Nazi twats were going to die by my hand.

⭐️⭐️⭐️ ⭐️⭐️out of 5 stars History can be a bitch....

ByPetra Andreaon September 23, 2016

Format: Kindle Edition

I really wish this book would be just some awesome fantasy, written by a very gifted author that is Sean Kerr! Sadly most of it isn’t, its history, it’s the darkest part in German history ever, it’s my history. Dead Camp 2 with its 179 pages took me almost two weeks to read. Sure I’m not the fastest reader on earth, but it hadn’t been because of that. It was because sometimes I just couldn’t take anymore and I needed time to grief, to understand. I’ve been growing up in Germany in the 70th, sure we had history at school, we knew about all the things that happened then, we even had been in one of those Death Camps and I have seen the furnaces where the corps where burned myself, but at my age it was more like someone told you a once upon a time fairy tale, like Hansel & Gretel by the Brothers Grimm. With Sean Kerr’s book and his gift of very visual writing, Germany’s dark history became flesh & blood; it became faces, voices and names. With every new name there had been another soul abandoned to a horrible fate. It wasn’t like reading Anne Frank or watching Schindler’s list. This book had been intense, very intense and sometimes just too much for me to bear and that’s why I needed lots of breaks and it took me so long to finish. Thru Eli’s eyes I could see and feel the pain, the terror and the desperation. The fantasy part of the book had not been less intense for me, and the hardest part of it was to lose Malachi. I dearly loved the bubbly ghost; he’d been my Sunshine in all that dark. Malachi, as the camp he was, had been good for more than one hilarious moment in the Dad Camp series. Even though I knew there was a risk to lose Malachi’s soul in the process, I couldn’t believe how things turned out and it left me more than just a bit heartbroken. Thank God the Dead Camp series isn’t just about Nazi Germany; it’s about a history that reaches back since time immemorial, including heaven and hell, as well as everything between. Sean Kerr is a wonderful story teller and has a very special way with words, or like a friend the other day laconic said; Sean Kerr’s texts should win the Pulitzer!

As Wewelsburg Castle burns, Eli carries Isaiah to safety. So much is lost, Malachi is gone, the Demon from Eli’s terrible past is reborn into the world already at war, and to make matters worse, Gideon is back. Yet, before Eli can even reach the sanctuary of his home, he learns a painful truth about Gideon, the truth of why he left him, and Eli can barely hold onto his own sanity. Eli quickly understands that not everything in life, or death, is black and white, and sometimes to protect the ones we love, we have to make the greatest sacrifice of all.

Hear my soul speak. The very instance that I saw you, did my heart run to your service. Shakespeare As Related By Malachi

Oh, and it so did, the very moment that his hunky countenance filled my vision. I, the King upon the stage, and he, the dazzling beauty whose gaze sought me out from that audience of adulation. Was I not a star? Was I not a God upon the stage of Heaven? Yes! I, the star in ascendance, more dazzling than any other meagre thing that London had to offer. And yet, there in the dark, I saw him, his eyes, so bright, so moved by the brilliance of my performance, eyes that sought me out, and love lay lost at my feet. My heart belonged to him from that very moment. There, upon that stage, I fell in love with a dream. I fell in love with a beauty that blinded all else, and every word, every emotion that I invoked, all of it I directed towards him, my muse in the dark.

That was before he killed me, of course.

It took every ounce of strength left in me to leave him. Poor Eli. He looked so hopeful standing there on that hill overlooking Wewelsburg Castle, naked. Where to focus my eyes? I had to scrape my gaze away from his hard, muscular body and that thing hanging between his legs and remind myself that there stood the man who killed me. Eli ripped open my throat, and he drank my love away, every drop, and he cast me away, an empty thing, a savaged testament to his own insurmountable grief. As we stood upon that hill of decisions, I searched his eyes, and I saw his guilt glistening inside there, the pain that sparkled with such sharp definition, cutting away his insufferable confidence as he faced me. I heard my Bard inside my head, his words never truer to my ears. The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on.

“I am not coming with you, Eli.” I had said the words, I meant the words, yet even so, the suffering they caused upon that beautiful face pained me so. A darkness washed over him that had nothing to do with the weak sky or the sun that fought to rise above the mountains, it had to do with me. I never thought I had it in me, the strength to leave him, the one thing that kept me bound to the Earth, the one thing on Earth that I truly loved, even more than Shakespeare.

So I turned my back on him, and I walked away. Without flesh to contain my emotions, it felt worse somehow, as though my own despair could not stand to stay inside me. I could almost see my own heart aching inside my chest, a pathetic, broken thing, shattered like myself, beyond recognition. My tears streamed down my cheeks in a torrent of misplaced love, as wasted as the years I spent at his side, yearning for his affection. And like my tears, I too felt wasted. I wanted nothing more than my time upon the Earth to come to an end, to release me from my pain.

“Daniyyel! Ask me, Daniyyel! Please ask me, I am ready.” How pathetic my voice sounded as I bellowed into the sky, so weak, so ineffectual, so inconsequential. That just about summed me up.

⭐️⭐️⭐️ ⭐️⭐️ out of 5 stars Absolutely Brilliant!

ByDale Federicoon February 1, 2017

Format: Kindle Edition

Author Sean Kerr is simply the best! His impeccable knack for research and authenticity is written in his words in his books. But wait, did I say authentic? Oh noooo, Sean's authentic has his own twists and turns ups and downs and his spin on history! He has an uncanny way of pushing the envelope in epic proportions in this historical book of events. This is an intense story going back to Christ's execution, Pontius Pilate, to the Fuhrer in his concentration camps, hence "Dead Camp", with vampires, angels demons and a ghost! This is a fantastic story of love and loss of an ancient vampire who has lived for centuries and has been thru the most unspeakable horrors. This series is captivating, intense, evil, shocking, yet loving! I shed many tears for my favorites and revelations. I highly recommend you take this journey with this brilliant author. His writing is superb! I am looking forward to Book 4 in the Dead Camp Series!

Now for a special Sneak Peak at Dead Camp Book 4

If you did not know what to look for, the little black door sandwiched between two black encrusted brick buildings could so easily pass you by. It was a door I had become so familiar with, and as I knocked upon its flaky painted surface, a gentle shiver of excited anticipation trickled across my cold skin.

I wanted to fuck his ass until he couldn’t walk anymore, and with any luck, he would fill my hole, too.

A little trap door slid open in the door, and a pair of heavily made up eyes glared through the tiny slit.

“Hi Maggie, open wide, there’s a good girl.”

The trap door slid closed and the door opened to receive us. The stench of Absinth and semen hit me in a delicious wave of unbridled decadence. Grabbing Malachi’s hand, I pulled him into Heaven.

“Good to see you, Eli,” came Maggie’s gruff voice. Malachi stared at the figure, dressed in a white Tootoo and a heavily beaded bask, as he closed the door behind us.

“Is it busy tonight, Maggie?”

He shuffled around to face us, thick makeup crusting two days’ worth of stubble. There was not much room in that small space, and his Tootoo splayed up across us.

“So, so, though Collars is in.”

“Oh, really?” That pleased me. He was a dirty fucker, and just the mention of his name made my asshole twitch.

Malachi stared at Maggie open mouthed.

“Oie, haven’t I seen you, aren’t you that actor?”

Malachi immediately went into meltdown, and his face burned with guilt.

“Nothing gets past you, does it, Maggie? Yes, this is the man himself, the love of London! Malachi, this is Maggie, Maggie, keep your fucking hands off!”

Maggie laughed a rough, butch growl that gurgled with phlegm. “Thought so, I’m good with faces, see. Saw you at the Lyceum, didn’t I? Very good you was, too!”

Malachi opened his mouth, but barely a high-pitched squeak issued from the back of his throat.

“Quiet one, ain’t he?”

“He just needs a drink. Come along, actor man,” I laughed, pulling him towards the stairs just before me. “And close your fucking mouth, for God’s sakes!” I whispered as we climbed the stairway to Heaven.

“She was a man…”

“Yeah, we get a lot of that.”

We climbed the black staircase, up into a throng of baroque indulgence. Walls painted blood red, festooned with ornate mirrors and mouldings, gold gilt and feather caressing every available surface in an explosion of campness. Poor Malachi’s eyes bulged out of his head at the excess of it all. Smoke from a dozen black cigarette holders added to the heavy atmosphere to assault my nostrils with its decadent pleasures.

Maggie was right. There sat Collars and Cuffs, tucked away in a secluded corner surrounded by a group of young, fawning socialites hanging upon his every word. He looked so very bored. Collars had an attention span of a fish. His pale, fluid eyes swivelled around in my direction as though he sensed the very presence of me, and when they found me, I saw the flash of excitement that burned behind them. Collars nodded, the subtlest of movements to let me know that he had seen me. It made me grin from ear to ear. I felt my ass blowing him kisses.

“This place…it is so…exuberant,” breathed Malachi, unable to disguise his rising excitement. It was there in his pants for all to see.

A striking looking woman, dressed in men’s black formal evening wear, with her blond hair slicked back across her scalp, sashayed past the aghast actor. Her long, slender hand, clasping a black cigarette holder, brushed across Malachi’s chest.

“Well, hello darling, aren’t you just the cutest. Good to see you keeping your end up as always Eli. This one is positively delicious.”

“Thank you, Kitty, he is rather magnificent, is he not? You should see the things he can do with his mouth.”

“Oh, I bet darling, I bet. Such a creature could almost make me forsake the clunge, but not quite.”

Kitty moved away, a movement so liquid, and so erotic as to rival my own sublime body. She wrapped her long splendid arms around a glittering black flapper, and the two merged as one as lips met through the smoke.

“But…but that is…”

“Beautiful, Malachi, the word you are looking for is beautiful. We are all beautiful in The Damnation Club. You can be whatever you want to be in here, Mal. Man, woman, both. It doesn’t matter.”

“And what, pray tell, is a clunge?”

I laughed. It fell out of my mouth in an unexpected burst of wet sound, and I could barely talk through my amusement.

“Down there,” I howled, pointing between my legs, but Malachi looked at me none the wiser. “A lady garden!”

“I beg your pardon? A what, what?”

“Vagina, you daft bat! A clunge is a vagina!”

I could almost see the blood drain out of his face. “I need a drink.”

“One stiff one coming up!”

I dragged Malachi over to the small walnut bar nestled discreetly in the corner. A solitary figure, wearing a crisp white shirt and black dickie bow stood behind the bar polishing a crystal tumbler. He was a beautiful thing, all high cheekbones, and pouty lips, and though I had not had the pleasure of him, yet, I just knew that he would be a turnover. They always turned out to be a turnover. He positively screamed fuck me as I approached the bar.

It was time to play our little game.

“Well hello, Eli! Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Me?”

“One day, Cadena, I may just take you up on that.”

“Then I shall make sure to gird my loins in readiness.”

“Make sure you do. I just hope that you can take it.”

“Oh, believe me, sir. I can take everything that you wish to give and more.”

The bartender leant across the bar and kissed me, full on the lips, with tongue. He tasted of youth, used, and wasted, yet full of promise with a sprinkling of potential. It was a flavour I rather appreciated.

Malachi’s jaw dropped. One could almost hear it hit the counter with a slap. As we disengaged our lips, the bartender laughed, his breath a hot explosion across my cold face.

“Have you brought us a new plaything, sir?”

Poor Malachi. He nearly passed out on the spot.

“Behave, Cadena. Be gentle with him.”

“Oh, for sure, sir, I will use kid gloves, and maybe some restraints?”

Malachi gripped the counter for support as his entire body sagged.

“Absinth, Cadena. Two.”

“Two, sir?”

“Cheeky fuck! Good job you’re pretty. Get one for yourself as well, then.”

As Cadena gathered the necessary components, I slide closer to Malachi, my fingers resting upon his hand which clenched the bar so very tightly.

“Are you okay, Mal?”

“I feel queer.”

“That’s the idea!”

Malachi laughed. The sound issued from his mouth in a joyous burst of relief, and I could not help but laugh along with him, so infectious was the sound.

The back of my head throbbed with a strange ache that made my entire body stiffen. Something was in the room, watching me, I could feel it, a heavy weight of inhuman scrutiny that burrowed into the back of my head. I spun around, alarm tingling through my taught limbs, and something else, something that I was unaccustomed to feeling, something that I could only attribute to fear.

My Vampire rippled beneath the surface of my skin, and I turned around, slowly, my gaze scanning the smoky depths of the club. It saw me, it saw me for the monster I am, and I felt it regarding me through curious eyes, a thing unlike anything that I had ever experienced before, and I feared it.

It was out there, somewhere in the dark. I could almost taste it, something so old, so powerful, and for a moment the room seemed to cave in on me. The walls and the ceiling drew in, brick and plaster that wanted to crush my bones and eat my flesh, a tomb constructed of Victorian architecture. Then I saw them, glaring at me through my own fear, two orbs of glowing curiosity that penetrated my soul to the monster beneath, eyes of such terrifying beauty that they burned. The eyes belonged to a man unlike any I had seen before, a vision of such masculine perfection that my body withered beneath his gaze. A beast dressed in a white dinner suit.

“Your drinks, sir,” announced Cadena behind me. I turned back to the bar to find three tall crystal glasses half filled with a shimmering, emerald green liquid. Atop each glass sat a silver strainer with a sugar cube perched in their centres.

“The secret of the Green Goddess is patience. It is important that the Goddess should be cold, and the water equally so,” he continued, his tone hypnotic as he raised a beautiful crystal carafe filled with iced water.

I glanced back over my shoulder.

“One should take time while pouring…”

My eyes searched out the stranger in white, but of that incredible creature, I saw no sign.

“…to ensure that mother earth has sufficient time to dissolve her sweet succulence into the Green Goddess.”

My gaze darted around the room, searching for him, for a flash of his white brilliance.

“It is important to allow such sweet nectar to drip into our Goddess, until, as one hits the sweet spot, she rewards you with a change of colour, a moment of exquisite creation contained within the crystal.”

I still felt him, his powerful presence, an aftershock of lingering power that set the atmosphere aflame, but my eyes refused to see him.

“When we partake of our Goddess, as we drink from her, we do so with respect, a slow desire, one that should linger on the lips as she slides down our throats, lest we should succumb to the green Devil contained within her all-consuming depths.”

Cadena’s every word hypnotised Malachi, who remained completely held within his thrall, entranced by the erotic sensuality pouring from the youth’s full lips. Cadena handed each of us a glass and then raised his own in a toast.

“To the Green Goddess. To her unquenchable desires.”

Thank you so much Sean for letting us have that sneak peak at Dead Camp 4. I know a lot of people can't wait for it to be published.

For all Dead Camp Series

Extasy Books Links Dead Camp 1 Dead Camp 2 Dead Camp 3

Amazon US Links Dead Camp 1 Dead Camp 2 Dead Camp 3

Amazon UK Links Dead Camp 1 Dead Camp 2 Dead Camp 3




Sian and Andy have good lives, loyal friends, a beautiful home and a loving family. To everyone else, they are the perfect couple, the doting husband, and the successful wife. But every family has secrets, and Sian and Andy’s are about to realise that nothing stays hidden forever. Some secrets are just dying to get out.

At what point does a career become more important than your life, than the one you love, than your own sanity? Sian is about to find out because she keeps seeing things, dark monstrous shapes that hide in her bed, that lurk in every corner and no-one will believe her. Even her own mother thinks that she has lost her mind. To make matters worse, Andy thinks that her hallucinations are caused by guilt, a guilt that is slowly devouring their perfect relationship. After a blazing row, Sian is left alone in a house that feels hostile, dangerous and as darkness falls, Sian must face her guilt in the form of a horror more profound and more terrifying than her worse nightmares.

Pale blue eyes snapped open, glittering in the half-light. Her pale white hand disentangled itself from beneath the bedclothes to flick back a stray lock of blonde hair from the little Princess’ face. She was a pretty little thing, with pale, milky, porcelain-like skin that accentuated the clarity of her pale blue eyes. With a stifled yawn, she swung her small delicate body over the edge of the bed, her toes scrunching into the pink pile of the carpet as she allowed her white nightdress to fall over her ankles.

Half dazed, sleep still heavy upon her eyes, the little Princess dragged herself toward the bedroom door and pulled on the handle, spilling sickly pink light out into the dark landing beyond. Muffled voices laughed downstairs and she smiled to herself. She liked to hear her mummy and daddy having a good time. The house seemed to lack much laughter of late, it felt dark to her, lonely somehow.

The bathroom exploded in a frenzy of harsh white light, making her squint as she hitched up her nightdress and sat on the toilet. The cold of the seat against her bared flesh came as a shock and she squealed slightly. To her left lay the bath, a white plastic shower curtain was drawn across its length while to her right sat the sink. Above the sink hung a mirrored cabinet, one of its doors open to reveal a host of face creams and toothbrushes inside. For some reason, the sight of the open door in the otherwise neat little room irritated the little Princess, and she made a mental note to close it, to make it just the way mummy liked it.

Something dark moved across the marble effect lino beneath her feet, a spider, scuttling toward her naked toes with alarming speed. The tinkling stopped and she lifted her feet, a slight yelp of horror bursting from her lips as the spider hit the base of the toilet. The spider’s repulsive legs had felt their way around the porcelain before it darted away, squeezing itself through a gap between the wall and the bath panel. Her eyes searched the area thoroughly to make sure it had gone before she dared to lower her feet back to the floor.

The sound of running water mingled with the gentle flush of the toilet as the little Princes swilled her tiny hands in the sink. She wiped her hands on her nightdress then reached up to push the cabinet door closed, standing on tip toes so that her fingers barely reached the bottom of the door. It was just enough to set the door moving on its soft close hinges and satisfied, she turned away.

As the cabinet door slowly closed, it reflected the bath and a dark silhouette that stood behind the shower curtain. The figure darted forward, the crude profile of a face pressed into the flimsy plastic and its mouth sucked in the material just as the light blinked out to plunge the small room into darkness.

⭐️⭐️⭐️ ⭐️⭐️out of 5 starsA New Name in Horror!

ByAmazon Customeron March 20, 2017

Format: Kindle Edition

Sean Kerr, accomplished author of the DEAD CAMP series, takes a stab at the Horror genre and slays it! Not only that, he disembowels it for us all to see the entrails of a new take on Horror. In Kerr’s usual tantalizing descriptive style, he walks—sometimes thrusts—us down a winding path of deceptive visages wrapped in the arms of a couple simply going through marital issues. But as this path eloquently unfolds we find ourselves dead-ended in many dark corners that we are desperate to get out of, and that I’m personally glad I have the luxury of only getting to read about. It would be easy for one to say there is a political statement embedded in this tale, but I believe Kerr’s caution has more to do with consequence. There are consequences for ever action and Kerr makes sure we won’t bloody forget it. Consequences can come with a vengeance!


For a signed copy of Dead Camp Book One, tell us the name of Sean's shop in Cardiff. First one to answer correctly is the winner. Email us the answer at

Top 10 things on Sean's Bucket List

1 Retire to Barcelona where I can write, surrounded by gorgeous Spanish men

2 Write an episode for Doctor Who

3 Write the next Alien film

4 See my Dead Camp series made into a film or a Netflix series

5 Go on a world cruise on a Luxury Liner

6 Travel around America and Canada (there are some people there I particularly want to visit!)

7 Earn enough from my writing to enable me to give up the day job.

8 Share a bed with Hugh Jackman

9 Be the first gay man to play the role of Norma Desmond in Andrew Lloyd Webbers Sunset Boulevard

10 I want a naked house boy to attend to my every need – possibly in the shape of Hugh Jackman or Henry Cavill.

My stalking links!

Twitter: FB Blog: Goodreads: Dead Camp website

We hope you have enjoyed our Author Spotlight with Sean Kerr and if you or any you know of any Author who would love to have a spotlight with please contact us in our contacts Link.