Blurb
When an
expert Demonologist meets a Reality Show Producer on the Ghost Hunting Show
Finders, sparks of true love fly so brightly even the Devil takes notice.
Demonologist
Luke Melloy has seen the face of pure evil. He's fought it and sent it back to
hell. It's what he does. To Claire Westin, ghosts and demons are just great
television and good for ratings. When she’s faced with the truth Luke has seen,
her reality is turned upside down as the two are swept into dire straits
moments after they meet. Desire sparks between the unlikely pair, throwing
their hearts into chaos with a love neither of them expected nor wanted.
When the
Demon targets an unsuspecting Claire with his wrath, Luke finds his focus split
between his oath to God and the awakening of his heart. Together, can they face
the ancient evil and defeat it, or will they lose everything?
Excerpt
On every
investigation, big or small, Grant Henley’s priority was always the safety of
his team. Splitting the central team into mini-teams posed the best option. If
anything happened on any of the walks, an experienced team member would be
present to handle the situation. While he hand-picked and trusted every member
of his team, he also knew in the face of pure evil or peril, people could
freeze, loose reason, and panic. It was only human nature. He needed to
anticipate all the possibilities.
He would not
admit aloud to the team, but the investigation of Crestwater Church would most
likely be one of the most intense and riskiest endeavors many of them would ever
experience.
“What have we
got?” Grant asked, entering the open door on the opposite side of the altar
from where he’d just been with Luke.
“Dust, and
lots of it,” Craig replied, standing triumphant and placing the bolt cutters
against the wall. Finders’ investigators Brian, Glen, and Maggie were
standing with him, having assisted in the excavation.
“Let’s take a
look,” Grant said, turning on his flashlight again and leading the way into the
area. He’d expected a wooden floor but found it to be solid rock. Good news
meant they wouldn’t have to worry about falling through any holes in an old
weakening wooden floor.
They ventured
inside, and the dust began to settle, revealing the scant contents of the room.
Walking around, they found a few small single beds, broken empty dressers, and
a cracked mirror on the far wall. Grant took a few steps toward the far wall
and stopped. He raised his hand in a hold position, signaling for everyone to
stop. Listening, he waited and heard it again, louder this time, definitely a
growl. He swung the flashlight toward the sound and stopped, illuminating a
snarling, growling dog. The light flashed red in its eyes. Grant stepped back.
“Out, get out. Slowly and quietly leave the room,” he said in a low tone to the
rest of the group.
In his
peripheral vision, he watched the group of three slowly back out of the room.
Keeping eye contact with the still angry animal, he began with a first step
back, simultaneously searching for anything he could put between himself and
the animal.
The bed to
his left was close enough he would be able to skirt it between them, giving him
a few seconds to exit the space. Two more steps and he could reach the bed. He
felt someone enter the room and saw Luke’s outline slowly approaching him.
“The bed,” Luke
said, knowing his plan.
“Yes.”
“Move fast.”
“Not a
problem,” Grant replied.
The dog
inched forward, getting ready to strike.
“On three,”
Luke said, and Grant silently nodded. He mapped out in his mind how this was
going to work. “Ready?”
"Yeah,
okay…one…"
"Two."
"Three."
Grant lunged
for the bed, flipping it on its side and dashed. Without warning, something
grabbed his ankle. He fell to his knees, giving the dog a chance to strike.
* * * *
Luke watched
the bed flip on its side, creating a temporary barrier. Luke, bolt cutters in
hand, watched and waited. Grant fell to his knees. The dog caught Grant’s ankle
before Luke could bridge the gap. The dog’s jaws were locked. Grant struggled
to get out of the dog’s grip. Luke stepped between the two and swung the cutter
at the dog’s head to get the hound to release. Luke hit the dog harder and
harder, with no effect and no damage to the animal.
Luke stopped,
holding his cross. "In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I
stand with the power of the Lord God Almighty to bind Satan and all his evil
spirits, demonic forces, satanic powers, principalities, along with all kings
and princes of terrors, from the air, water, fire, ground, netherworld, and the
evil forces of nature.”
The dog
continued to bite down, and Grant bellowed in pain. “Fuck!”
“I take
authority over all demonic assignments and functions of destruction sent
against me, and I expose all demonic forces as weakened, defeated enemies of
Jesus Christ. I stand with the power of the Lord God Almighty to bind together
all enemies of Christ present here, all demonic entities under their one and
highest authority, and I command these spirits into the abyss to never again
return.”
The dog
whined in pain, released Grant’s leg, and scurried behind the bed. Luke
grasped
Grant’s hand, pulling him to his feet and out the door. They slammed the door
shut in unison. Something heavy and strong banged against it, pushing to get
out. “What do we do?” Craig asked.
“Find
something to wedge against the door,” Luke called. Glen and Brian helped to
hold the door closed. The pounding continued. “Get the salt!”
Craig
disappeared with Maggie out the door. Luke started a prayer to bless the door.
The pushing and banging stopped just as Maggie and Craig reappeared. “Is it
over?”
“Doesn’t
matter,” Grant said, motioning to Craig for the piece of wood he’d brought to
wedge the door closed. Grant took the piece and positioned the wood against the
door to keep it closed. “Go get the nail gun out of the truck.”
“You got it,
Boss,” Craig said with a nod.
“You have the
salt?” Luke asked Maggie. She nodded, face pale. Giving the clear glass jar to
him with shaking hands, he gave her a reassuring nod. “We’ve got this. Go take
a break.”
Luke opened
the salt and poured it against the threshold.
“Not very
Christian of you,” Brian commented.
“Actually,
for centuries since the advent of Jesus, salt that had been cleansed and
sanctified by special exorcisms and prayers was given to catechumens before
entering the church for baptism. According to the fifth canon of the Third
Council of Carthage in the third century, salt was administered to the
catechumens several times a year, a process attested by Augustine of Hippo.”
Craig returned with the nail gun and handed it
to Grant, who started nailing the door.
Luke
continued,
“Two specific
rites, namely a cross traced on the forehead and a taste of blessed salt, not
only marked the entrance into the catechumenate but were repeated regularly. By
his own account, Augustine was "blessed regularly with the Sign of the
Cross and seasoned with God's salt. Therefore, it is very Christian of me.”
Grant
finished securing his side of the door and handed Luke the nail gun. “Early in the
sixth century, John the Deacon also explained the use of blessed salt. he said So
the mind which is drenched and weakened by the waves of this world is held
steady.”
“That is
blessed salt?”
“Yep, take it
wherever I go,” Luke replied.
“Consider me
schooled,” Brian said.
“What
happened in there?” Glen asked.
“Stray dog,”
Craig quickly said from behind Glen. “It happens in these abandoned buildings.
A dog or raccoon gets trapped inside and is relatively pissed off when someone
finds it. Greg could use your help in the vestibule. We’ll finish up here.”
Glen and Brian nodded and exited the room. “All secure?”
“Yep, let’s
get you outside to wrap up that ankle,” Luke said, offering Grant his shoulder.
“Claire’s
gonna be pissed,” Grant said.
* * * *
Come Find Me!
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