Book Description
Some Things are Worse Than Demons.
Jimmy Holiday, reluctant exorcist, is finally getting the help he needs from the higher-ups. The Order of Markers is sending him to the Vatican’s exorcism school. Now, he’ll receive the training he should have gotten at the beginning. One problem, someone wants to sabotage him.
When his time at the school is cut short, Jimmy receives an interesting new case. It is the assignment that no one wants—a corpse has come back to life. And it isn’t a zombie.
Too bad nothing goes as expected. Armed with his usual bag of tricks, Jimmy thinks everything will eventually be all right. Well, that is until his betrayer turns out to be the person he trusts most.
Excerpt
If ever I thought stuff couldn’t get any weirder in my life, boy was I wrong. Getting out of Arizona was—well, interesting to say the least. No way could we take Lucy on a plane—not without documentation or permission from her parents, which wasn’t going to happen. Poor kid had it rough learning how to walk on real feet again. Then there was the airplane itself. She’d been through enough having been possessed, separated from her body, and ultimately left with me to take care of her. Now this.
How did you call up someone to ask if you could take their daughter’s spirit that had just developed its own body on an airplane while they still had her real body in Virginia? It was enough to make my brain bleed.
And of course, I didn’t have their new phone number, but that was beside the point.
Like I said, things had gotten a whole heap weirder.
“Are you going to help me or not?” Tabby stood behind the car, fiddling with the suitcase.
I was in trouble again. It was starting to become a trend. One of these days she would clobber me. I could see it coming. I got out of the car, took the monstrous suitcase from her, and loaded it into the trunk.
“Car rental place said we can have the car, but there’s a fee,” I said, closing the back hatch.
Of course there would be. It wasn’t like some big organization was going to be nice or anything. Hell, I had trouble with people in general. Why would a corporation be any different?
“How much?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”
Thwap. My head rocked forward.
“Did you hit me?” I stared at her. Maybe being psychic was another added bonus to this marker thing. Nah, if that were the case, I wouldn’t have screwed up in Arizona.
Tabby stood with her hands on her hips. Her red hair framed her face like she was some sort of pissed-off goddess. Her eyes darkened, and I was reminded of that guy on TV who kept hitting his workers on the back of the head.
“Yes, I did,” she said. “Just because you love that magic black card, it doesn’t mean you don’t have to worry about it.”
I rubbed my head. Damn, she hit hard. “If this was my sort of normal I’d be worried. But how else are we getting this menagerie home?”
“Good point.”
I was glad she saw it that way because there wasn’t another option. It wasn’t like I had some amazing powers like flight or anything.
“Was that the last of it?” I asked. The trunk was almost full. I could maybe fit a small stuffed animal in there, but that was questionable.
“Yep.”
“Okay. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
Bio
Named one of the Examiner’s 2014 Women in Horror: 93 Horror Authors you Need to Read Right Now, Danielle DeVor has been spinning the spider webs, or rather, the keyboard for more frights and oddities. She spent her early years fantasizing about vampires and watching “Salem’s Lot” way too many times. When not writing and reading about weird things, you will find her hanging out at the nearest coffee shop, enjoying a mocha frappuccino.
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