The
Curse Servant
The
Dark Choir
Book
2
J.P.
Sloan
Genre: Urban
Fantasy
Publisher:
Curiosity Quills Press
Date of
Publication: February 26, 2015
ISBN (eBook):
9781620078228
ISBN
(Paperback): 9781620078235
ISBN
(Hardcover): 9781620078242
ISBN (Smashwords):
9781620078259
ASIN: B00QEQN1XC
Number of
pages: 346
Word Count: 99,400
Cover
Artist: Conzpiracy Digital Arts
Book
Description:
The
one person standing between Hell… and an innocent girl… is a man without a
soul.
A regular life
isn’t in the cards for Dorian Lake, but with his charm-crafting business
invigorated, and the prospect of a serious relationship within his grasp, life
is closer to normal than Dorian could ever expect. In the heat of the Baltimore
mayoral campaign, Dorian has managed to balance his arrangements with Deputy
Mayor Julian Bright with his search to find his lost soul. Dorian soon learns
of a Netherworker, the head of a dangerous West Coast cabal, who might be able
to find and return his soul. The price? Just one curse.
Sounds easy… but
nothing ever is for Dorian. A dark presence arrives in the city, hell-bent on
finding Dorian’s soul first. Innocents are caught in the crossfire, and Dorian
finds it harder to keep his commitments to Bright. When the fight gets
personal, and the entity hits too close to home, Dorian must rely on those he
trusts the least to save the ones he loves. As he tests the limits of his
hermetic skills to defeat this new enemy, will Dorian lose his one chance to
avoid damnation?
Available at Amazon
Excerpt:
I
knew this wasn't going to be the typical meeting with Julian Bright when,
instead of the usual political organ-grinders at the campaign headquarters, I
found a soccer mom duct taped to a chair, foaming at the mouth. Her grunting
and growling echoed off the bare sheetrock walls of Julian's office, vacant
except for the three of us.
I
peeked through the blinds covering the locked storefront to make sure none of
volunteers were back from the morning rounds. Satisfied we were alone, I turned
to Julian.
He
waved his arm at the woman in a lazy circle. "So, this is why I
called."
"Who
is she?"
"Her
name is Amy Mancuso. You know her?"
I
shook my head.
"She's
a volunteer. Her team was working Cold Spring by Loyola when she started
swearing and spitting at the residents. By the time her team captain called me,
she'd kicked someone's dog. Terrier, I think. Or one of those purse dogs."
I
winced. "Remind me not to hand out yard signs for you. Jesus."
"It's
not like we do background checks on volunteers. I figured she probably missed
some meds or something."
"But
you called me instead of the paramedics."
"Right."
"Why?"
I asked as I took a step toward her.
Amy's
grunting halted as she straightened in her chair. Her head swiveled slowly in
my direction, and her eyes sent the creeping chills up my neck.
With
a nerve-rattling tone she growled, "Is that Dorian Lake I smell?"
I'd never
enjoyed the sound of my own name less.
Julian
turned a shoulder to me and whispered, "That's why."
"Gotcha."
I
slowly approached Amy, pulling my pendulum from my jacket pocket in a slow,
non-threatening motion. Last thing I needed at that moment was to send a crazy
person into a panic. I assumed she was crazy. My pendulum would determine
whether she was unnaturally energized or the usual cat-shaving flavor of
lunatic.
Her
eyes were dilated; her mouth twisted into the most unsettling smile one could
imagine on the face of an otherwise average woman.
"Have
we met?"
"Poor
little Dorian lost his soul."
Okay,
this was probably a legitimate problem.
I
dangled the pendulum in front of Amy. The little nugget of copper spun from the
end of its chain in a perfectly Newtonian fashion. Nothing pulled it contrary
to the laws of Nature. I couldn't even feel a tug on the chain.
She
continued, "Lost his soul, he lost his soul. Dropped it down a rabbit
hole."
"I
suppose you think you're being clever?"
"Is
he doomed or is he dead? Will he damn your soul instead?"
This
conversation had lost all of its charm.
"Who
am I talking to?"
She
sucked in a huge gulp of air and craned her neck at a painful angle toward the
ceiling. A sick squealing noise leaked from her lips as her arms trembled. When
she finally released her breath and sank back down into her chair, she simply
chuckled.
"We're
going to find it, you know. And when we do, we're going to eat it."
I
leaned in as close as I dared and whispered, "If you think I'm afraid of you,
then you need to know something. I'm not impressed."
"It
won't be long now."
"Did
someone send you, or is this just a courtesy call?"
She
smirked. "We're going to enjoy this."
I was
knitting together a clever response when a loud rip of tape crackled through
the room. Her hand slammed up underneath my jaw, fingers clamping around my
throat. My head filled with blood, and I tried to cough through the gag reflex.
The harder I beat on her hand to let go, the wider that creepy smile got.
J.P. Sloan is a
speculative fiction author ... primarily of urban fantasy, horror and several
shades between. His writing explores the strangeness in that which is familiar,
at times stretching the limits of the human experience, or only hinting at the
monsters lurking under your bed.
A Louisiana
native, Sloan relocated to the vineyards and cow pastures of Central Maryland
after Hurricane Katrina, where he lives with his wife and son. During the day
he commutes to the city of Baltimore, a setting which inspires much of his
writing.
In his spare
time, Sloan enjoys wine-making and home brewing, and is a certified beer judge.
Web page: www.jp-sloan.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JPSloanAuthor
Twitter:
@J_P_Sloan
Tumblr: http://jpsloan.tumblr.com/
Tour
giveaway
5 Digital copies
of The Curse Merchant, Book 1 of the Dark Choir series
a Rafflecopter giveaway
The cover is very creepy looking.
ReplyDeleteAnn
It's interesting that you say that because the whole time I was putting this post together it kept reminding me about the movie "The Ring" - and I found that movie quite creepy.
DeleteThat sounds very different... and the cover has a real foreboding look to it.
ReplyDelete