Monday, October 13, 2014

PELICAN BAY: Jesse Giles Christiansen


Ahoy, Mateys! Why did I just say that? And why do I keep hearing “AHHHRRRRRRRR!” in my ear? And where’s the rattling of old bones coming from … and the smell of seawater? I get it! It’s time for the Daily Book Giveaway. If you’re lucky, you too will have that skeleton of a sea captain following you around because the gnarly Captain Shelby is at the heart of a story that’ll shiver your timbers and make you wince in fright! PELICAN BAY is a chiller-mystery concocted by the delectably twisted mind of Jesse Giles Christiansen! He’s an up-and-coming author that’s causing a lot of people to move inland after reading this harrowing tale!

Jesse is offering ONE PRINT and ONE ECOPY of PELICAN BAY, but he’s not done! With just a little pressure applied to the arm being twisted around his back, he also agreed to give a sneak preview of his new bestseller called GOTH TOWN and wrote a story to get us even more paranoid in this most terrifying of seasons! It’s called THE NIGHT THAT NIGHTTIME CAME BACK! So Captain Shelby be damned! Let’s launch this giveaway!!! 

Jesse Giles Christiansen is an American author who writes compelling literary fiction that weaves the real with the surreal. He attended Florida State University where he received his B.A. in English literature. He is the author of PELICAN BAY, an Amazon #1 list bestseller, outselling Old Man and the Sea by Hemingway. He'll be releasing what is expected to be one of the most unique Christmas stories in years, GOTH TOWN, on November 6th, 2014. One of Christiansen's literary goals is to write at least fifty novels, and he always reminds himself of something that Ray Bradbury once said: "You fail only if you stop writing."

You can also visit this author at:

PELICAN BAY (The Captain Shelby Trilogy Book 1)   
“Christiansen offers a tale sure to entrance readers—a story of love and wisdom and the mystery of a forgotten graveyard under the waters of PELICAN BAY.”” – Man Martin, author of Paradise Dogs

Some things are better left alone

After Ethan Hodges discovers an undersea cemetery just off the beach of Pelican Bay, South Carolina, he seeks answers from a grandfatherly fisherman named Captain Shelby. The captain wants the past to remain buried, and he warns Ethan to stay away. But Ethan doesn't listen.

Ethan's best friend and secret love interest, Morgan Olinsworth, joins in the investigation, unearthing intriguing secrets about the mysterious fisherman. When Captain Shelby is suspected of murder and disappears, a manhunt ensues, revealing a truth that unnerves everyone in Pelican Bay.

SNEAK PREVIEW: Coming November 6th, 2014



She was gone as mysteriously as she came, like a rogue raven gust of wind. I cried. A little boy who cried on that worn front step.
But one day she came back, in the middle of the month of ghosts.
Her name was Nighttime, because she first came in the night, from the black, squalid streets of a disappearing neighborhood. My brothers and I agreed on the name immediately, as if we were all whispered it by destiny. She was shiny as all black cats seem to be, perhaps radiating in rebellion against the tyranny of the Curse of October. But she was fluffy, too; we thought she was touched by Persia. She loved to jump this way and that, much like a distant cousin of a sunburnt crab tangoing with a naughty shore.
One morning I awakened and went outside to play with Nighttime.
But she was gone.
We waited for days, cried tears like child parents losing a child. “She’ll come back,” I said. “She’s just sewing her wild oats,” my mother said. “What if a car got her?” my brother said.
The heavy days blackened as they trudged on, hurling for October like desperately lonely spooks.
When she came back it was a mid-October night. I don’t remember the exact date. Were it not for the gigantic, orange moon, it would have been too black to see anything. The night even veiled the few meager street lamps.
We were sitting on the worn step telling that ghost story about the man with the golden arm. After a friend murders the man and amputates his golden arm, becoming quite rich, not a night passes afterwards when he does not hear that hoarse whisper surfing the wind, “Where is my golden arm? Where is my golden arm?”
After I told the story, my brother and I sat in the orange-black night and listened for the golden-armed man’s voice, goose bumps riddling our flesh as if we might dissolve into Halloween ghosts ourselves. But we didn’t hear the man’s voice—only a meow—more of a blood-rippling howl—very low and surreal, as if born of that crawling night.
“Do you hear that?” I asked.
“Yes,” my brother said. “Could it be Nighttime?”
“But I thought you said she got hit by a car?”
We looked at each other with eyes as big as that moon.
I saw her first. She looked eternally wet as she shimmied up the old sidewalk. Her once fine coat of black hair was sullied and matted, and there was a whimper as she crept toward us, orange moonlight lending her the appearance of a jagged cat crayon-drawn by a possessed kindergartener.
“Nighttime? Is that you, Sweetie?” I said.
Just that spine-tingling howl.
“I wouldn’t touch her if I were you.”
“Poor thing. She needs a bath.”
“Don’t do it.”
“Look, she’s fine. She’s purring now,” I said, stroking her hideous coat and shaking the violently shedding hair from my hand.
“Leave her alone,” my brother said. “I don’t trust her.”
It’s amazing how deep a cat’s teeth can sink, and how feline rage can whip up from nowhere like a Kansas tornado summoned by the Wicked Witch of the West.
I still hold the crescent-shaped scar in the palm of my hand today.
My brother kicked her.
“Don’t do that! Why did you do that?”
Off she ran.
And that car. How I wanted to murder the driver. After all, he did have the orange moon to lead his way.
And the night-kidnapped street lights.
Happy Halloween,
Jesse Giles Christiansen.


1. Simply click on link below
2. Comment "I Want to Win" on the October 13th Daily Giveaway post
3. That's it! All names will be put into at 8 PM this evening. Winner's will be posted on FB! 



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