Today it’s my great pleasure to be a part of Aoife Sheridan’s blog tour for her book Hunters. The following is an excerpt from the book, which I did read, and it’s awesome! I’m sure you’ll enjoy it as much as I did.



Hunters – Taken from Chapter One – The Possession (Abigail)

“Where is she?” I asked as I laid out my roll of equipment on a hall table; it was the only piece of furniture in the hall so it had to do.

Taking a cross out of my pack, I poured holy water over it, splashing some on the hall table and the carpet. A small price to pay for us saving his daughter’s soul. Rolling the rest back up, I placed it back into my jacket and tucked the bible under my arm.

“This way,” the man said looking ready to bolt but thought otherwise.

He stood at the third door down the hallway. Zee placed his hand on the door, and then gave me a nod, letting me know that we had the right house. I moved towards the door, but before I turned the handle, I turned back to the man.

“How long has she been like this?”

I asked as Zee got himself ready.

Father Peter didn’t give many details, he just needed me to get there as quick as possible.

Tears filled the man’s eyes. “A week, maybe two.” At least, it didn’t have a long time to fester.

I gave Zee a nod just as I turned the door handle and entered the darken room. Light hurts them so I switched it on and let it flood the space. It was a standard sized bedroom, nothing special about it. A wardrobe rested against one wall, it once had been white but with time, it had faded. My eyes moved to the locker that was pine. It was bare of any ornaments and sat tightly against the single bed that the girl lay on. Her body was partially naked and her long blonde hair was stuck to her neck with sweat, I couldn’t make out her features as her face was no longer human looking than the hands that rested on her swollen abdominal. I turned to the man to give him a piece of my mind for leaving such a small detail out, but he had bolted, leaving us here with his pregnant and possessed daughter.

Words of another language and another time came out of the girl’s mouth, more than likely cursing us into the ground or into hell.

Zee’s hands moved robotically, taking items out of his trench coat. He placed two small white candles on the window sill, but didn’t light them – they were a just in case. He stayed close to them, but leaned against the wall. He looked so large in the small room.

“Do you want to do it or shall I?” I asked.

I always gave him the option; he did most of the work, but I hated tiring him out.

He gave me the once over, considering if I was strong enough. “You go ahead. I’ll observe,” he finally answered.

Moving towards the girl caused the demon inside her to rev up, making the girl’s body move at all the wrong angles.

I splashed her with the holy water. It bubbled up on her skin, the vapor rising and disappearing. A hiss left her mouth and more words followed. Taking out the bible, I turned to the page where the most powerful prayer lay, holding the cross steadily in my hands I started,

We drive you from us,

Whoever you may be,

Unclean spirits,

All satanic powers,

All infernal invaders,

All wicked legions,

Assemblies and sects.

In the Name, and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ,

May you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God,

And from the souls made to the image and likeness of God,

And redeemed by the Precious Blood of the Divine Lamb.

The sound of laughter made me stop. As the demon overtook the girl’s face completely. My heart rate elevated. Zee, quick to act, lit two candles, knowing what was to come as the light bulb brightened, casting a blinding light in the room before it exploded and small shards of glass flew across the room. I covered my face, protecting it from the onslaught of the flying glass. Small cuts across my hands stung and warm blood slid slowly across my fingers. I took my hands away, ignoring the pain. The flames from the small candles that Zee had lit danced across the room but gave little light. Not being able to see fully, always made a possession more frightening, no matter how many times I did it, it never got easier.

“Aaabbbiiigggaaaiilll,” the demon hissed inside the girl, slowly stretching my name, but I heard it. My body responded, causing me to stumble back, never before had a demon or spirit spoke my name. I stood paralyzed.

“Abigail,” this time it was Zee who called my name and I could hear the warning in his voice.

I needed to continue. I sucked in a deep breath and wiped the blood from my hands onto my jeans. I started the prayer again, saying it faster, and louder. My voice trembled slightly. I felt shook up after hearing that thing say my name. The demon inside the girl roared to life and squirmed with a voracity that shook the bed savagely. The bed’s thin, wooden legs slammed into the carpet, the noise drowning out my words, but I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop for fear of what might happen. I continued as a few pictures fell from the walls, their frames snapping with the impact and the glass shattering across our feet. The curtains billowed now from an unseen wind. The bed continued to move rapidly. And the large wardrobe shook violently. Its doors swinging open and closed, the sharp bang lifting my heart every time. Zee stood protecting the candles from the breeze that raced through the room, carrying the foul stench of an unwashed body. I spoke louder closing my eyes, forcing myself to stay focused, even against the activity in the room. I clung to the cross. As my grip tightened it caused my cuts to bleed, coating my hand once again. I could feel the cross slipping and soon my hand was empty. The slamming of the wardrobe doors was getting faster and louder. The bed hit the floor harder, the wood snapping against the strain, small splinters of wood breaking free, and scattering across the floor.

Then everything ceased, silence fell upon the room, my breathing moved in and out of my nostrils, sounding so loud in the dead silence.

“Dad?” The one word was filled with fear and confusion and had come from the young girl; her voice broke through my numbness and fear.

I moved towards her slowly, looking at her face. She looked normal again, pale yet terrified, but normal. I smiled the best I could at her confused face, hoping to give her comfort. She met my eyes with big blue ones of her own, ones she must have inherited from her mother as her father had those muddy brown eyes, a ray of freckles covered her nose and cheeks making her look like she was only about sixteen. She was so young to be pregnant.

“Hi, my name is Abigail your dad called us, you were sick,” I said

She looked around the room for her father. I gave Zee a nod to go get him and he hesitated, looking at the girl for a moment.

“It’s fine, Zee. She’s okay,” I assured him.

He left hesitantly at my words.

“What’s your name?” I asked, moving closer, trying to halt all the questions that I knew must be going around in her head right now. Once someone was possessed, they could never remember the ordeal. It was for the best or lots of people would never sleep again.

“Lucy,” she said, still looking around the room that was only lit now by candle light.

“Lucy, that’s a pretty name,” I said, she was looking at me as if I was crazy.

“What are you doing in my room? And why is everything such a mess?” she asked, looking at all the frames and shattered glass on the carpet. A logical question, yet I had no logical explanation.

“How far are you gone?” I asked, looking at her stomach, trying to distract her until her dad got there and he could come up with whatever story he wanted to. She looked down at her belly after hearing my question and her cheeks lit up when she realized she was half-undressed. Fear and confusion filled her face.

“It’s okay, Lucy.” I didn’t get to finish as she started to scream while kicking her legs and pulling the remaining blankets off her, blood started to soak the sheets.

“My baby!” she screamed as Zee and her dad entered the room. I rushed forward, grabbing the blanket; I needed to stop the bleeding, her stomach rippled and I had to blink twice to make sure I was seeing what I was seeing. A hand formed, pushing its way against her stomach, reaching out to me, stretching her skin almost to breaking point. I fell back off the bed, away from the hand, while pulling the blanket with me. The bed started to levitate.

Lucy’s screams and her father’s pleas to save his daughter made the room swarm around me. “Abigail, Abigail,” the voice danced around me, I covered my ears. “No. No!” Zee’s feet rushed past me and he jumped up on the bed, fighting the hysterical flailing arms that Lucy threw around as her stomach stretched and moved at abnormal angles. The demon had attached itself to the child’s soul. I snapped out of my daze. The cross lay on the ground, its gold surface now tainted with my blood. I grabbed it and jumped up while holding onto the cross for dear life as Zee placed his hand on Lucy’s stomach, a gust of air ripped through the room, throwing everything into chaos. The candles hit the carpet and distinguished almost immediately, leaving us in darkness. I couldn’t move for a moment, but could only watch as light poured from Zee’s fingertips, blinding all of us. Sound ceased to exist at that moment, while everything around us continued to shake. I could feel the ground under my feet vibrate. Through the light, I could see Lucy was still alert, her mouth open as she screamed in fear and agony. Her eyes wild, the veins bulged in her neck as she continued to scream soundlessly. It was like watching a movie with the sound on mute. A large crack raced down the wall behind the bed, just stopping at the skirting board, and then the room went dark. The world stopped shaking.

“Lucy, sweetheart, talk to me,” her father’s frightened whispers reached my ears. I opened my eyes as Zee came to me and his strong arms pulled me into a tight embrace. His smell, his warmth calmed me. His heartbeat pounded against my ear, bringing me back. I looked up at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded, but I was anything but okay.

I pulled away and stood on trembling legs, making my way to the bedroom door. Once I opened it, light flittered into the room. I looked at Lucy, her body lay still. She looked snow white against the blood soaked sheets.

The father’s face turned to us tears stricken and red with anger. “What have you done to my baby girl?”

I didn’t reply, but took out my phone, ignoring the trembling in my hands, pausing before making the call. I turned to Zee. “Did we lose the baby?” I asked, he nodded his head, and a pang twisted my heart. “The girl?”

“She’s alive,” he answered and left the room.

I pushed the button and made the dreaded call.

 Hunters by Aoife Sheridan


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Today I was priveleged to soend some time on the virtual #shelf with Rave Reviews Book Club’s very own Nonnie Jules. I’m reblogging my interview so that you can see ho much fun Nonnie brings to the party. Hopefully, you’ll check out some of the other intervies that she’s done. they’re all onderful!

Rave Reviews By Nonnie Jules

Hello and welcome to “WHO’S ON THE SHELF?” with yours truly, Nonnie Jules!  Since we are a book club, you know we had to offer something that included a book shelf.  A lot of interviews merely cover an author’s work or an individual’s career stories.  Here on this “SHELF,”  we get down and dirty and ask the questions no other interviewer dare ask.  We ask the questions that you want to open up a book and find the answers to on your favorite authors and fellow book club members, but no one has dared to cover them.  WE get personal!  Because when you sit on the RRBC “SHELF,” YOU are an open book!

Today I have with me on the “SHELF” one of our fabulously supportive members,  Author, Rhani D’Chae!!! She comes in doing a James Brown skip dance, to the theme song of STARSKY & HUTCH.

View original post 2,570 more words

Take a chance, find a treasure

As a reader, I’m guilty of selecting books primarily from my favorite genres. But since joining Rave Reviews Book Club, I’ve been introduced to several authors and books that I would otherwise have probably overlooked. I’m now much more willing to branch out with my reading material, and I encourage you to do the same, if you don’t already. Treasures can be found in the most unlikely of places, and I have found some sparklers.

The following reviews are for two books that I stepped out of my “comfort zone” to read, and I’m so very glad that I did. Two different authors, two very different books, and I highly recommend them both.

Allergic to life: My battle for courage, survival, and hope

Kathryn Chastain Treat

I rarely read non fiction because I read to be entertained, and reality is rarely entertaining. Especially when it comes to the ailments that plague most of us as we wander through life. This was not a ‘fun’ read. Rather, it was informative about things that I think normally we might accidentally overlook or just not consider to be worth noticing. Things like mold and other toxic compounds have been made mention of for years, but I don’t think most of us really pay that much attention to what we hear. This book may change that. And if it does…if the struggle chronicled in this book saves one person from a similar fate, then the author has achieved her purpose and maybe, in some small way, her ordeal will have served a purpose.

Daydream’s Daughter, Nightmare’s Friend

Nonnie Jules

This is a book that deals with a very harsh subject – the molestation of a child. And if that’s not bad enough, the molester is her stepfather. The girl, Maiya, also suffers physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her mother, who sees her daughter as competition. Maiya does have some supportive people in her life, but fear of retaliation keeps her from disclosing what goes on at her house.

The story is well told, and draws the reader into the ups and downs of Maiya’s life in all of its sordid reality. Ms Jules pulls no punches, and Maiya’s experiences are very similar to those of girls that I’ve met along my own path who came from the same background. Because of this authenticity, I found the story to be believable, and Maiya to be someone I could truly sympathize with. The only negative that I have in regards to Daydream’s Daughter is that the narrative is too casual for my personal tastes, but that’s my own thing and I won’t penalize the author for it. This book tells a 5* story, and so that’s the rating that it received from me.


Meet Robin Lindzer

   One of the things I’d like to do with this blog is profile some Indie authors and maybe introduce them to a few new readers. For that reason, I asked my friend and fellow Rave Reviews Book Club member, Robin Lindzer to tell you about her newly published YA novel, One Wish. This is Robin’s first book, and I hope you’ll check it out the next time you’re visiting Amazon.

   Robin, the floor is yours.

   “The premise of the book is that a 12 year-old boy (named Josh) is given a puzzle box that hasn’t been solved in over 600 years.  When he takes it home, he solves it, and out pops a genie–one who has been stuck in the box for those 600+ years.  She appears in front of Josh and grants him one wish.

   If you were only given one wish, what would you wish for?

   Josh wishes for something unimaginable, and the adventures begin, complete with an evil Jinn named Iblis that loves to complicate the main characters’ lives.

   I got the idea for the book when one day, daydreaming. I thought if a genie were to give me one wish, what would I wish for?  That started the whole process going, and I wrote the book. 

   I’m already working on the second book, tentatively entitled, Wish Masters.  However, I’m finding that the second book might actually be the third book; I haven’t decided yet.

   I have no writing quirks, really.  I just plop down in front of my computer every morning and write.  Sometimes what comes out is pure drivel; other items that come out are like gems found deep in a rock.  It’s the writer’s  job to chip away at that rock, in order to bring out said gem–the book.

   To get in contact with me, you can find me at Facebook under Robin Lindzer

   On Twitter, I’m on as @rlindzer”

   One Wish Amazon link:



Two great indie books

   Thank you for reading my Sunday post. I’m actually having fun with this blog, and I’m so grateful to all of you for following.

   Today I wanted to share the Amazon reviews that I wrote for a couple of indie books that I enjoyed reading. I met both of the authors on Twitter, and am so very glad that I did.  The first book was written by Bruce A. Borders, @BruceABorders. Bruce is also a member of Rave Reviews Book Club, which is an awesome group of people who actively support and promote indie authors. The second book is from James Weathorford, @JimWeathorford1, who was one of my very first Twitter friends. Follow them both on Twitter, find their books on Amazon, and lose yourself In the worlds created by these two talented authors.



Inside Room 913

Bruce A. Borders

   This is a great suspense novel, with one of my favorite plotlines – a mysterious person who is locked away from a world that is allowed no contact. Cynthia Holt is a young girl just starting a new job at Parkview Manor, an assisted living facility. She is told that the person in room 913 is off limits, but she is curious and pokes around anyway. Rumors are everywhere, but lead to nothing and the story takes several twists and turns as Cynthia continues to dig. The book was fun, and I enjoyed it all the way to the end, which did not disappoint. Great ending twist!



The Last Soldier; Nature of the Beast

James Weatherford

   In a time yet to come, the inhabitants of an over populated world struggle to survive the shortage of food, water, and other vital necessities. Huge numbers of people are confined in brutal prison camps where inhumanity and atrocities are daily fare, and the odds of making it out alive are practically nonexistent. It’s an ugly world, but one that could possibly be our future, and that is the true horror of this story.

James Weatherford has crafted a futuristic military novel that will keep the reader riveted until the very last page. The characters are compelling, the action intense, and the story itself is a well written blend of civilization’s failure, governmental dictatorship, and the fierce determination that I believe lies, largely untapped, within the human animal. The same determination that will ensure survival of the species no matter how far down we may someday fall.




Shadow’s birthday giveaway results

Thank you for taking the time to read my Thursday post. First off, I want to thank everyone who commented on the post for Shadow’s birthday giveaway last week. It was a great response, and I’m pleased to tell you that Harmony Kent won the Amazon gift card and Beem Weeks won the signed paperback copy of Shadow of the Drill. Thank you both for participating, and for being so welcoming when I joined #RRBC.


   I thought that for today, I’d give you a peek into Winter of the Drill. Please feel free to give feedback, as there’s still some fine tuning to be done. This book picks up a few months after Shadow, and brings back the character of Hunter Grae. I hope that you enjoy it.



Winter of the Drill

Chapter One

   A slight rain misted the December afternoon and moistened the face of the young man who raced through the alley, frantically seeking refuge. A graffiti covered doorway caught his eye as he flew past and he spun on his heel, running back and rattling the doorknob in a vain attempt to gain entry. Frantic intensity strengthened his hands and he pounded on the door with both fists, even though he knew that there would be no help on the other side. For even if there was someone there to open the door, they would betray him in a heartbeat once they learned who was chasing him. Once they knew that he ran from the Drill.

   And they would find out; though Tommy had never met the man, he had heard enough to know that the Drill would tear the city apart until he flushed his prey out into the open. He was a man who took great pride in his work, and made it a point not to fail those who purchased his expensive services.  He was also a man whose vicious reputation was legend among the hookers and the hustlers who called those dark and dreary streets their home. They would never risk his anger by sheltering one such as Thomas Gaylord Jenkins III; two-bit dealer, pimp, and all around loser in spite of his pretentious name. They knew better, as surely as Tommy Jenkins had not. But he was learning fast.

   Abandoning his attempts to gain entrance to the building, Tommy sprinted for the far end of the alley. Heart pounding, he prayed desperately for enough time to reach the cross street and make his escape before his pursuer closed enough of the gap between them to see where he went. He knew that the odds were against him, for the hellhound on his tail had been hand picked by the Drill and was as much at home on the dingy streets as Tommy himself. Perhaps even more so. Every turn, every shortcut would be known to him, and the possibility of escape faded with each passing second. But knowing that his options were quickly dwindling did not destroy Tommy’s hopes completely. There was still a chance, and it was almost close enough to touch.

   The bus station! Hang a right ,then two blocks up. I can do this! The thought of watching his neighborhood shrink into the distance through the tinted windows of a Greyhound caused his heart to thump with anticipation. Just a ticket away from a brand-new life!

But that life was not to be. Tommy was only a dozen or so steps from the mouth of the alley when a lean figure stepped out of the shadows and held up a hand in greeting.

   Tommy skidded to a stop, his stomach clenching when he recognized the man who stood before him – another of the young thugs in the employ of the Drill. Tommy knew that the man could not be reasoned with, so he wasted no time with arguments or bargains. Turning quickly, he raced back the way that he had come, cursing loudly when he stumbled over a small pile of debris. His shoes pounded against the damp pavement and his breath burned in his throat as he pushed his exhausted body forward. He knew that retracing his steps gave him a miniscule chance of escape at best, but to stay where he was and face the consequences of his actions required more bravery than he had ever possessed, under any circumstances.

   And so he ran.

   There was a cab parked across from the alley entrance and he felt a sudden rush of exhilaration. Just a few more steps to the street and

then –

   A fist struck him in the diaphragm, lifting him to his toes and forcing the air from his lungs. He fell to his knees, retching, unable to prevent the flow of urine that darkened the front of his pants.

   Idiot! He screamed silently at himself, disgusted with his own stupidity. He should have known that there would be sentries stationed at both ends of the alley and he should never have gone in, should never have looked at the narrow, rat infested passage as a route to salvation. But he was tired, and the machinery that governed his rational thought was no longer operating at top efficiency. The only thing he knew for certain was that he had gotten himself into the middle of some incredibly deep shit.

   The “businessmen” that he had so gleefully cheated wanted him. Wanted him badly enough to pay the Drill and his team to hunt him down, and the Drill was not the kind to let his quarry slip through his fingers. Therefore, Tommy knew that he would most likely be dead by morning.

   Idiot, he berated himself again when a strong hand gripped his hair, pulling his head back and forcing him to look up into the face of the one who held him.

   To his surprise, the man who had chased him into the alley was not the man who stood before him. His pursuer had been young, of average height and build, with light blonde hair poking out from beneath a blue stocking cap.

   This man was older, darker, and completely unknown to Tommy Jenkins. He was also very tall, and would have towered over Tommy even if the boy had not been kneeling. But his height was not the only thing that caught Tommy’s eye. Massively built, his broad shoulders and muscular arms left no question as to the raw power that lurked beneath the surface of his skin.

   Tommy began to whimper uncontrollably when the man lifted his hand, pulling him to his feet by his hair. Standing, he dared another quick look at the stranger’s face and saw with astonishment that it bore a pleasantly amused expression instead of the scowl he had expected. And when the big man spoke, his voice was easy on the ears with a tone that was almost friendly.

   “Look at you,” he said as he released Tommy’s hair and rested a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What a mess you are. Hard to believe you’re man enough to get yourself into the kind of trouble you’re in. But…stranger things have happened.” He paused briefly, eyeing Tommy without any change of expression. “So…what do you have to say for yourself?”

   The ringing of a cell phone spared the boy from having to answer and his mind raced, trying to think of the best way to extract himself from the situation while his captor answered his phone one-handedly.

   “Hunt,” he said into the mouthpiece, laughing with genuine delight. “Damn, it’s good to hear your voice. How was the flight? Are you all settled in?”

   Tommy found himself hoping that the conversation would take a while, but it proved to be a brief exchange. “Hunt” was not a man of excess words, and only a few sentences passed between him and the giant whose fingers still gripped Tommy’s shoulder like talons of steel.

   “You’re sure you’re up for this? From what I’ve been told they’re just a bunch of kids but…well, let’s be real, bud. You’re not as young as you used to be.” There was a burst of indignant chatter from the cell and the man laughed again. “Okay, okay. Don’t blow a gasket. Grab a nap and we’ll see you tonight.”

   The stranger disconnected the call and turned his full attention back to Tommy, his ruggedly handsome face still wearing the same bemused expression.   

   His smile gave Tommy the faintest stirrings of hope that this man, unlike the others who had been chasing him, might be of a more sympathetic nature. Taking a deep breath, he met the man’s gaze and prepared to plead for his life.

   But before the first words were spoken he realized that he was mistaken, that there would be no chance of gaining his freedom. 

   The smile was still gentle, but from under a shock of raven-black hair, crystal blue eyes that glittered like shards of the purest ice bored directly into his. Devoid of both mercy and soul, they were the eyes of a jungle cat, of a bird of prey. Cold as the grave, they were the eyes of the Drill.




A surprisingly good action film

   Please forgive the lateness of this post. Life interrupted art a few days ago, so I am behind on pretty much everything writing related.

   Today I thought I’d share one of my favorite action movies with you. It’s a  lighthearted little romp called Smokin’ Aces, and if you like shoot ’em up flicks with a decent plot and an all star cast of people who really seem to be enjoying themselves, then this would be a great one for you.

   This 2006 film stars Jeremy Piven as Buddy “Aces” Israel, a Las Vegas magician with close personal ties to the Vegas mob. When Israel agrees to turn state’s evidence, Primo Sparazza puts a contract on his head. The FBI, seeing a chance to use the situation to bring down Sparazza, puts Israel into protective custody in a Lake Tahoe luxury hotel.

   Sparazza’s call brings out a dozen or so bounty hunters, excellently portrayed by such notables as Ben Affleck, Peter Berg, Chris Pine, and Kevin Durand. In addition, high end hit men Nestor Carbonell (Lost) and Tommy Flanagan (Sons of Anarchy) are also on Buddy’s trail. Alecia Keys is a tough as nails hitwoman who is joined by Taraji P. Henson and her Barrett M107 .50 cal.

   The FBI is well represented by Andy Garcia, Ray Liota, and Ryan Reynolds, who gives one of his very best performances.

   Two other standouts are Joel Edgerton as Hugo, and Common as Sir Ivy. I first saw Edgerton in King Arthur, where he was an exquisite Gawain. As Hugo, his appearance had changed so drastically that he was unrecognizable to me. Common brings such great depth to he role of Sir Ivy, Israel’s longsuffering right-hand man, that it’s easy to forget he’s not the star of the film.

   Aces is a high-octane ride that doesn’t take its foot off the gas once the action starts. Piven shines as the self-indulgent Israel, and the cast also contains the talents of Alex Rocco, Matthew Fox, Jason Bateman, and Vladimir Kulich. The plot might be a little far fetched in one or two places, but watching is so much fun that it doesn’t really matter. The film contains strong language, brief nudity, and enough gunfire to get your blood racing and your adrenaline flowing almost from the get-go. There is a fairly high body count, but most of the victims are the bad guys, and they kind of have it coming. (Watch for the shootout in the hall outside the elevators.) Surprisingly, Aces is quite funny. There is some subtle humor as well as some that will have you laughing so hard you’ll fall out of your chair. There’s also a plot twist that may or may not be predictable, but regardless, it’s an important fact.

   All in all, for the kind of film that it is, Smokin’ Aces is better than most. It’s easy to see why so many big names wanted a part of it, and even easier to see why it is that even those whose characters were short-lived brought with them an undercurrent of pure fun.