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Synopsis
In part 3 of the Ravenswood series, George Dabrowski has a problem, a very terrifying one.
One Texas night he picks up a woman on his Harley on his drive east. That morning she is violently murdered in front of his eyes by a terrible, vengeful spirit.
The bloodthirsty ghost tells him he and his former Marine compatriots are to pay for causing her death in Grenada back in 1983. Running for his life, George gathers together his old squad mates, including one Noah Ravenswood, practicing wizard and occultist. But when the specter traps them in Noah’s shop, he and his associate, Dr. Sarah Booking, have only hours to uncover the truth. What is behind the wraith’s attacks and is one of his old comrades a serial killer and rapist?
Can they solve the mystery before the killer strikes again?
EXCERPT
Those Dangerous Times
In part 3 of the Ravenswood series, George Dabrowski has a problem, a very
terrifying one.
One Texas night he picks up a woman on his Harley on his drive east. That
morning she is violently murdered in front of his eyes by a terrible, vengeful
spirit.
The bloodthirsty ghost tells him he and his former Marine compatriots are to
pay for causing her death in Grenada back in 1983. Running for his life, George
gathers together his old squad mates, including one Noah Ravenswood, practicing
wizard and occultist. But when the specter traps them in Noah’s shop, he and his
associate, Dr. Sarah Booking, have only hours to uncover the truth. What is
behind the wraith’s attacks and is one of his old comrades a serial killer and
rapist?
Can they solve the mystery before the killer strikes again?
Excerpt
There, standing completely nude in the pale dawn light, was Lisa. She was
facing him and her body was quivering like she was having some sort of seizure.
George watched in horror as a pair of dark gray arms emerged from her stomach--
and the hands on the ends of those arms obscenely caressed Lisa’s ample chest.
Blood ran down from the wounds that the arms had made in her stomach as those
hands, pitch-black, clutched more like talons than fingers into the meat of the
ex-barmaid’s bosom. Lisa’s eyes widened; they silently begged and pleaded with
George to do something. A ragged rush of air passed between her clenched teeth
as she found the strength to breathe.
“George,” she softly cried as the color of her flesh became pallor with a
sickening speed.
“What the fuck!” the big man spat, and he ran forward. As he approached, a
creature’s face appeared over Lisa’s right shoulder.
The long wild black hair framed a dark expanse that was twisted into a hateful
sneer. The thing had no eyes, just twin wells of deep darkness on either side of
its nose. It smoked; rolls of gray steam seemed to waft off of the thing’s body,
creating a strange misty background to accent Lisa’s trembling, pale skin.
Lisa’s body shook even harder and blood erupted from her lips, painting her chin
a dreadful crimson.
“Aaarrgggh,” the twenty-year old softly gurgled before slumping lifeless in the
apparition’s hold.
The phantom smiled; it was horrible to behold and made George’s blood run icily
in his veins. It lifted up Lisa’s limp form and tossed her aside like the wadded
up remains of a fast food meal.
“George Dabrowski,” it hoarsely whispered with a chilling voice. “Do you
remember me…?”
“No!” he shouted at the figure creeping upon the ground towards him. “I-it
can’t be! You’ve been dead for… t-twenty-four years!”
“No, not dead,” it whispered in that terrible tone. “Just searching, searching
and wandering until I could find those who murdered me. You will lead me to them
all, George Dabrowski… I will have my revenge upon all of you!”
“Fuck off!” he screamed at the smoking gray spirit. “They’re my brothers! I’ll
never help you kill us all!”
George ran to the bike and jumped upon it. He fired it up with a roar and tore
off down the road as if his ass was on fire. Behind him he could hear the
creature laugh. It was one of the few sounds he would never forget. It was more
of a coughing bark than a laugh, but a laugh it was all the same.
Author Information
Chris Newman lives in northeast Ohio with his soul-mate Diane, two sons (Anthony and Brendan), and has five grandchildren (Sebastian, Miguel, Duncan, Keegan, and Nathan). The residence is home to their pet cat Murphy (who is always under foot). Much to Murphy’s dismay Michaeledes the rat peers down from his cage (if only he had a ladder). Michaeledes teases him as Chris writes nearby. Chris is the published author of The Truth About Vampires, and its sequel Rites of the Vampire Cult, as well as “Ghost Lover & Other Erotic Fantasies” an anthology of erotic/horror. A life-long fan of Robert E. Howard, Richard Matheson, and Stephen King the bookshelves at the Newman residence run the gambit from erotica to horror to spirituality to humor. In fact, Chris hopes one day to inherit a library (or a castle with a library, that’d be nice!). Surrounding his eclectic library is his collection of medieval weaponry, helms, and shields. Woe be to the foolish mortal who tries to invade the Newman home.
Publisher Information
Dark Roast Press is an ePublisher with a thirst for the dark side of life. Our goal is to create a company that has much to offer; a little bit of everything to please anyone.