Sunday, March 4, 2012

Kathryn Meyer Griffith's LAST Excerpt for Blood Forge

Blood Forge-Revised Author's Edition, Possessed gun.
Hi Goddesses,
Okay, okay....ONE MORE Excerpt of my new romantic horror/thriller Blood Forge-Revised Author's Edition (originally a 1989 Leisure paperback ) that just came out March 1 from Damnation Books. It's my 13th book (new and rereleased) from Damnation Books/Eternal Press since June 2010. And in July 2012 Evil Stalks the Night-Revised Author's Edition, my first ever published novel (originally from Leisure paperbacks 1984) will be out, as well. Then I'd have come full circle in my 40 year writing career (I actually started writing at 21 but it took 12 years to get that first book got in the way) ....all 14 of my old novels will be out again, rewritten and all in ebooks for the first time ever! I'm so happy. Tired, too. Sigh. It's been a lot of rewriting, editing and promoting. But my babies are alive again. Funny, I can't believe time has flown by so swiftly. I blinked my eyes and, wow, it's all these years later. Warmly, author Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Blood Forge-Revised Author’s Edition (originally a 1989 Leisure paperback). An ancient snake-demon lays trapped behind the stone walls of an Incan prison, for centuries demanding blood sacrifices and scheming to escape. Then it discovers a pathway into the world of men, forging itself into a malevolent 357 Colt Python, and making itself capable of incomparable destruction and misery. Through decades it torments, decimates, the unfortunate people whose lives it comes into until a loving married couple, Emily and Sam Walters, have enough love and faith–and the help of a mysterious priest who’s much more than he appears to be–to fight against and destroy it forever…and to send it back to hell where it belongs.***
From a distance she heard a phone ringing. She fought the heavy chains of sleep to reenter the world. Rubbing her eyes, half-dazed, she groped for her cell phone. It was three A.M on her clock’s lighted face.
“Hello!” she practically screamed into the phone once she’d maneuvered it to her ear. It slipped out of her hand and clattered to the floor. She retrieved it and slammed it against her ear again. She hated it when she got a telephone call in the middle of the night—it usually meant something bad—and when she smoked she could never make much sense of anything. That’s why she always waited until so late at night; there was no possibility that anyone would call or bother her. She couldn’t cope with anything when she was high. Her mouth was dry. Cotton mouth. It made it hard to talk because her tongue kept getting in the way.
“Hello! Who is it?” she roared into the phone. If this is one of those prank calls I’m going to screech in their ears so loud I hope I break their eardrums.
“Lori?” Michael’s voice asked, unsure. “Is that you?”
She sat up in bed, her senses instantly alert. Leaning against the headboard, bringing her knees up to her chest under the covers, most of the fog lifting. If it was Michael, then it was a hot story. He’d never bother her for anything less.
“Yes, Michael, it’s me. Listen, pal, you better have one good reason for waking me up in the middle of the night. What is it?” She muffled a yawn, shutting her eyes.
“Sorry for waking you, but I think you’ll agree, this couldn’t wait.” She caught an odd ambiguity in his tone. “You awake now?”
Oh, oh, Lori thought, getting ready for it. It wasn’t like Michael to hold her in suspense. It must be big. “Yeah, I’m awake. You going to stop pussy footing around and tell me why you called?” Her voice was all business now. Her fingers found the on button for the lamp.
“All right. I think I’d better start at the beginning. You listening?” He didn’t wait for her answer, but launched into it. “I happened to be out driving around town tonight. You know, looking for a story? Too bored to sleep. Went by the police station. I don’t know.” Lori could almost see him scratching his head as he often did when something upset him. “I guess it was around one thirty or so. Something like that. Well, I saw an ambulance and a lot of commotion outside and decided to investigate. Who knows, I told myself, might be something. So I snuck in during the confusion.
“Lori, you won’t believe what I found out.” His voice had become a titillating whisper.
“What?” she whispered back, every newspaper nerve alive and tingling in her body, wide awake now.
“I kind of hid off to the side and stayed quiet and listened. Watched. It seems that there was a murder in town earlier tonight—a real scandal—a man shot another man over his wife. Seems she was going to leave him for this other man and he couldn’t take it. Went off his rocker. So he lured him over to his house this afternoon, they were best friends, you see, and boom! boom! boom! Shot him so full of bullets you couldn’t hardly recognize the poor slob. Killed him.” Michael was breathless.
“You’re kidding? In Fairfield? This afternoon?” Lori was instantly suspicious. “Why didn’t we hear about it?”
“Hold on, I’m getting to the best part!” Michael interjected. “Let me finish. We weren’t told about it because the police hushed it up. It’s going to be a heck of a media circus and now—whew!—even bigger.”
“Hushed it up?” Lori was astounded. “Why?”
Michael sniggered. “Because the two men involved were both cops here in Fairfield. They put the one in jail tonight.”
“Both cops?” An alarm went off in her head.
Emily was married to a cop, wasn’t she? “Who are they; did you get that information?”
“Uh huh. The one who was killed was, let me see, I got it written down here somewhere...a Tom Johnston, and the one who did the killing was named Roger Greene. Both patrolmen. Both married. The one who did the killing has two little girls. They were in the house when it happened. Probably traumatized, but unharmed. They’re with their mother. The woman the whole mess was over.”
Lori released a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Sam. If one of them had been Sam, knowing Emily as well as she did, she would have just died. Michael was right, what a hell of a scandal this was going to be. “This Roger Greene, they have him locked up? What are the charges?”
“None, now.”
Lori was almost speechless, but not quite. “Michael, are you saying that the police are going to cover for him? A murderer?”
“No, I’m saying there are no charges because a short while ago Roger Greene hung himself in his cell. Committed suicide. He’s dead. That’s what the commotion was at the station. I was there when they notified his wife, Sandy, by phone. Overheard it.”
Lori felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach as she remembered something. Roger and Sandy Greene. She’d heard Emily mention those names before. Two little girls. That was them, all right. Sandy was Emily’s best friend. They were close and always had been. In fact, she now recalled Emily speaking about Sandy and Roger a lot. All of them were friends.
God, this would kill her when she found out.
“Good Lord,” Lori swore. “I don’t believe it. You said he hung himself? How? Weren’t they watching him?”
“Yeah. He still did it. Found the poor guy hanging from the bars. He’d taken his shirt and torn it up and noosed himself with it. They said he looked horrified when they found him. Well, is that a story or isn’t it?
“I snuck into the cell when they weren’t looking,” he chuckled wickedly, “and snapped a couple fast shots of the scene of the crime. Then I ran like hell and slipped out of the place. It was bedlam by then. It was easy.”
“Good boy,” she replied, biting her lip. “I’m sure we’ll use them too. It’s going to be quite a story.” She stopped and thought for a moment, and added, “See me first thing in the morning. I’m going to get our best crime reporter on this thing right away.” Lori squinted at the clock. Way too early. But in a few hours it would be day­light. Then she could get someone on it. “In the meantime, find out anything—anything—else we might be able to use, all right?”
“Sure will, boss!” Michael responded. “Sorry to wake you like that.”
“Don’t mention it. You did good. Bye. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” he replied and the line went dead.
Lori hung up the phone and, shivering, slid back under the covers, cradling a purring Modred in her arms as the headlines came fast and furious. Lurid love triangle ends in tragedy for two cops! Cop killed in cold blood by closest cop buddy! Cop kills another cop over wife and then hangs himself in his cell out of guilt! Lord. What a story. What a juicy scandal.
Poor Emily, though, Lori contemplated soberly, stroking the cat absentmindedly. Poor Emily. She had known both of them. Closely. They’d been her friends. Sam’s too.Lying there in bed, Lori found herself wondering if Emily knew what had happened yet. Well, if not, no doubt she’d know soon enough. ***

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