Welp!  I told you to watch this space.  A Demon Saved is up for pre-order (or purchase, depending on when you read this…) thanks to the vagaries of book releases, and the level of my skills before the coffee has seeped into my brain, the paperback will be available slightly before the e-book.  Either way, my friends, you too can own a spanking new book in mere days!

The other book, Personal Demons, won’t be available for another few weeks, but I consider these two to be joined at the hip almost.  They share events, and have some overlap, though they focus on entirely new characters.

So!  To get you all excited, here’s one final excerpt from A Demon Saved for you to enjoy.  Poor Michael gets into a terrible mess in this book.


The cave was dry, at least, and had been carved out into a series of rooms and passages at some point.  It smelled of dirt and rock and sawdust and something Michael couldn’t quite identify.  Something sweet.  He followed the main passage further into the hillside, descending into the earth.  He noted the kitchen, the smell of cave giving way to the smell of cooking and spices.  He found a storage room full of musty crates that might be left over from the mining operation, and a room full of equipment and clothing, but no weapons.  There must be an armory somewhere nearby.

He stumbled as he was leaving the dressing room, and put his hand out to the wall to catch himself.  Caution, he reminded himself, he needed to be careful here, not clumsily tripping over a loose rock or whatever it had been.  He would rather confront Milquert himself and leave the human forces to the police, and he couldn’t avoid the lackeys if he alerted them to his intrusion through carelessness.

Further in, now.  He found a small library, more like a cell for study, and a room with beds and trunks.  Clearly the barracks for the guards he’d attended to already and a few others.  Michael blinked and frowned.  His vision was significantly better than a human’s, especially in the dark, but the deeper into this fortress he got, the harder he had to work to see clearly.  A fog was rising up to obscure things.  He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the foul, sweet smell that felt almost thick in his throat.  It was getting stronger the deeper into the underground lair he got.  Perhaps there was a garbage dump near the back of the tunnels?

Michael rubbed his eyes hoping to clear them a bit, and stretched out with his other senses again.  It wasn’t just his eyes, his mind felt foggy.  That faintly sweet undertone that had followed him through his whole journey underground now clogged his nose and choked the breath in his lungs.  His throat felt like it was closing off his air.  His head snapped up, the realization hitting him like a club.  He’d long ago read about the incense that could take out armies, but had never thought it was more than a story.  Something based on some sort of dust or gas weapon that could be fired into attacking forces, but clearly he’d misjudged the truth of those ancient reports.  He had to get outside, to clear air.

He stumbled back the way he had come, being exaggeratedly careful and feeling like a drunk.  He had to keep his hand on the wall now, for balance, and still he had to concentrate on staying on his feet.  He shook his head trying to clear the heavy blanket of drugging smoke from his consciousness, but only succeeded in making himself dizzy.  Another stumble had him landing on his knees, his hand sliding across the stone of the wall and skidding onto the floor.

He knelt there, struggling for breath before trying to stand again, but his legs wouldn’t move the way he needed them to, wouldn’t support his weight.  He realized that in his struggle he had ended up sprawled in the dirt of the tunnel floor, immobile and helpless.  For the second time in as many weeks, Michael felt fear spike through his chest, then a moment later he felt nothing.

Personal Demons, available on Amazon

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