I will post every few days, just FYI,
thank you who posted, for I have replied!
This is my first post and I just want to say what a pleasure it is to have you here!
this blog is about my books that are under construction, as time goes by (no pun intended)
I will post about my progress and also parts of my books and you have the right to give constructive criticism whenever about anything on that part of the books, obviously I will never divulge more then necessary at any one time.
remember, progress maybe slow, but I need help, your help in fact, I hope you enjoy the first segment of my book!
The Constantine Brothers
Scanning in the rearview mirrors, feeling panic and terror gnawing his insides, his gut tied in knots, leering; “If I get out of this alive and in one piece, I’ll be the most devout worshiper in my church.”
Speeding at 98 miles per hour he scanned the mirrors, looking for the menace he knew was there.
Was it safe to slow down?
A massive, mid-90s Chevy Suburban came hurtling, seemingly out of nowhere.
The Chevy had given him a few seconds time to realize what was going on, he deftly swung his car into another lane and slammed on the brakes, just in time. The Chevy blew past him at 150 miles per hour, and smashed into a sapling. Though not enough to disable the vehicle, the damage impaired its maneuverability; making it even more dangerous to escape.
He saw an exit and gunned the engine, went down the ramp and started to look, in vain, for a place to hide. Suddenly the SUV was behind, walloped the rear of The Wraith, and sent it into a spin.
He didn’t dare wait for the car to stop spinning, mashing the gas pedal to the floor,
The large car shot off into the darkness.
The psychopath in the SUV was now absolutely determined to take this sucker off the road and kill him.
The Wraith was at the end of its tether.
The timing belt sheared off with a squeal of rubber and steel wire.
The SUV smashed into the rear; The Wraith skidded sideways into a ditch at 100 miles per hour, went tire over roof and flew out onto the road and crashed into a bush; the front end soared into the air before landing with a ground-shaking crash, obliterating the front suspension.
The driver was knocked out cold.
The engine gave its death rattle and died as the lights flickered and went out.
The murderous psychopath stepped out, inspected the damage while giggling madly, it got into the beat to hell SUV, and drove away laughing like the maniac he was.
The man in the Wraith was called James Constantine, an exorcist, and this was a mission that had gotten seriously out of control.
He stumbled out, marveling that the door still opened and that he was still alive.
He collapsed onto the crumpled hood, falling into unconsciousness.
“Grandpa, is that really you?”
“Yes it is me, have you forgotten?”
“No, it’s just, so… unreal, that’s all.”
“Well, you’re right, this is not really happening, at least not in the physical world.’ He said pausing to look at the puzzled look on James’s face before winking, and saying,
“You are not going to die right now. You are going to go back. Why, you ask yourself, well, it’s very simple. You’re not supposed to die, no, you are going to go back and take that son of a bitch down. Remember, he’s only a minor demon, and since when did minor demons get the better of you, a Constantine?”
“‘Atta boy. But beware! Evil times lay ahead of you, times were you will have to choose between what is right, and what is easy.”
And with that, the scene vanished to be replaced by an entire world of pain. James got up, grabbed a mirror out of his pants pocket and directed it in the direction of the rapidly disappearing SUV.
He closed his eyes, and muttered, “Ego to order, quod cohibeo vos everto ut profundus secui of abyssus nunquam ut reverto ut humanus universitas. May deus have misericordia in vestri animus.”
There was a ghastly scream, and suddenly there was a demon struggling to get out before it was too late—and had just started to succeed, when Constantine smashed the mirror on the ground, and the demon was no more.
Constantine collapsed from exhaustion, and thought to himself, “In the end, demons can never turn away from their calling.”
He winced, and shuddered, the scar on the side of his face throbbed painfully, a grisly remainder of the fatal curse that the demon had let loose.
He knew that if he had hesitated for even a split second with the deflector spell, he would’ve been a goner.
The curse had been a powerful one, a curse he’d seen and heard before, the spell itself was ancient, designed for maximum damage to the opponent of a person with a lot of stamina. Supernatural stamina, in fact, and this meant only one thing, the creatures of the under world were getting stronger. A lot stronger.