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Hunters by Aoife Marie Sheridan - Book Blitz

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HUNTERS 2

Blitz: Hunters ( The Demon Series Part One)

Author: Aoife Marie Sheridan

Genre: Paranormal/Romance

Dates:29th of March


HUNTERS 2018

Blurb:

The gates of hell are opening and the demons know her name.


Abigail Thornton is a demon hunter. Working alongside Daniel has always kept Abigail safe, but when ghosts start to attack Abigail, she draws the unwanted attention of the REOTE. A secret society who keeps hells gates firmly closed.



Their investigation into the demonic activity raises more questions than Abigail wants to answer. With more secrets than she cares to admit, Abigail comes to realize, that every choice she makes has consequences, and with the man she secretly loves by her side is she willing to risk it?


As the lies start to unravel and her past rises from the ashes, Abigail just might end up causing the apocalypse…


If you like "The demon trapper" by Jana Oliver or "Sanctum" by Sarah Fine, then Hunters will feed your addiction for the dark side.

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Excerpt
 At the first knock, a man opened the door, nearly making me fall into the hall with the quickness of his answer. Zee’s hand moved to my waist steadying me. I looked up at the man in annoyance, but he didn’t seem to notice. The bags under his eyes had bags. His complexion was paler than what would be considered normal, but really, what was considered normal these days? He wore simple jeans and a shirt that was stained under the arms from sweat long dried in. His stomach bulged ever so slightly against the shirt, causing strain on the three lower buttons. My eyes moved to his feet that tapped nervously on the carpet and I was greeted with his big toe poking out of a hole in his sock. I looked back up at his brown eyes as they shifted nervously from me to Zee, but then they stopped moving and he stood back to let us in, no questions asked. 
We entered into a small hallway. A brown carpet that looked like it had its day lined the floor and the walls were an off-white color with happy family pictures hanging along them.
***
“Where is she?” I asked as I laid out my roll of equipment on a table; the only piece of furniture in the hall.
Taking a cross out of my pack, I poured holy water over it, splashing some on the hall table and the carpet. A small price to pay for us saving his daughter’s soul. Rolling the rest back up, I placed it into my jacket and tucked the bible under my arm.
“This way,” the man said looking ready to bolt but he must have thought otherwise.
 He stood at the third door along the hallway. Zee placed his hand on the door, and then gave me a nod.I moved towards the door, but before I turned the handle, I turned to the man.
“How long has she been like this?”
I asked as Zee got himself ready.
 Father Peter didn’t give many details, he just needed me to get there as quickly as possible.
Tears filled the man’s eyes. “A week, maybe two.” At least, it didn’t have a long time to fester.
 I gave Zee a nod just as I turned the handle and entered the darkened room. Light hurts them so I switched it on and let it flood the space. It was a standard sized bedroom, nothing special about it. A once white wardrobe rested against one wall, it looked old and had faded over time. My eyes moved to the locker that was pine. It was bare of any ornaments and sat tightly against the single bed that the girl lay on. Her body was partially naked and her long blonde hair was stuck to her neck with sweat. I couldn’t make out her features as her face was no longer human looking, neither were the hands that rested on her swollen abdomen. I turned to the man to give him a piece of my mind for forgetting to tell us this one small detail, but he had bolted, leaving us with his pregnant and possessed daughter.
Words of another language and another time came out of the girl’s mouth, more than likely cursing us into the ground or into hell.
Zee’s hands moved robotically, taking items out of his trench coat. He placed two small white candles on the window sill, but didn’t light them - they were a just in case. He stayed close to them but leaned against the wall. His presence dominated the space, and he looked so large in the small room.
“Do you want to do it or shall I?” I asked.
I always gave him the option; he did most of the work, but I hated tiring him out.
He gave me the once-over, considering if I was strong enough. “You go ahead. I’ll observe,” he finally answered.
My movement towards the girl caused the demon inside her to rev up, making her body move at all the wrong angles.
I splashed her with the holy water. It bubbled up on her skin, the vapor rising and disappearing. A hiss left her mouth and more words followed. Taking out the bible, I turned to the page where the most powerful prayer lay, holding the cross steadily in my hands I started,
We drive you from us,
Whoever you may be,
Unclean spirits,
All satanic powers,
All infernal invaders,
All wicked legions,
Assemblies and sects.
In the name, and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ,
May you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God,
And from the souls made to the image and likeness of God,
And redeemed by the Precious Blood of the Divine Lamb.
The sound of laughter made me stop. As the demon overtook the girl’s face completely, my heart rate elevated. Zee, quick to act, lit two candles, knowing what was to come as the light bulb brightened, casting a blinding light in the room before it exploded and small shards of glass flew into the air. I covered my face, protecting it from the onslaught of the flying glass. Small cuts across my hands stung and warm blood slid slowly down my fingers. I took my hands away, ignoring the pain. The flames from the small candles Zee had lit danced across the room but gave little light. Not being able to see fully always made a possession more frightening; no matter how many times I did it, it never got easier.
“Aaabbbiiigggaaaiilll,” the demon hissed inside the girl, slowly stretching my name, but I heard it. My body responded, causing me to stumble back, never before had a demon or spirit spoke my name. I stood paralyzed.
 “Abigail,” this time it was Zee and I could hear the warning in his voice.
 I needed to continue. I sucked in a deep breath and wiped the blood from my hands onto my jeans. I started the prayer again, saying it faster, and louder. My voice trembled slightly. I was shaken after hearing that thing say my name. The demon inside the girl roared to life and squirmed with a voracity that shook the bed savagely. The bed’s thin, wooden legs slammed into the carpet, the noise drowning out my words, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop for fear of what might happen. I continued as pictures fell from the walls, their frames snapping with the impact and the glass shattering across our feet. The curtains billowed now from an unseen wind. The bed continued to move rapidly. And the large wardrobe shook violently, its doors swinging open and closed, the sharp bang lifting my heart every time. Zee stood protecting the candles from the breeze that raced through the room, carrying the foul stench of an unwashed body. I spoke louder closing my eyes, forcing myself to stay focused, even against the activity in the room. I clung to the cross. As my grip tightened it caused my cuts to bleed, coating my hand once again. I could feel the cross slipping and soon my hand was empty. The banging of the wardrobe doors was getting faster and louder. The bed hit the floor harder, the wood snapping against the strain, small splinters of wood breaking free, and scattering across the floor.
Then everything ceased. Silence fell upon the room. My breathing moved in and out of my nostrils, sounding so loud in the dead silence. 
“Dad?” The one word was filled with fear and confusion and had come from the young girl; her voice broke through my numbness and fear.
I moved towards her slowly, looking at her face. She looked normal again, pale yet terrified, but normal. I smiled the best I could at her confused face, hoping to give her comfort. She met my eyes with big blue ones of her own, ones she must have inherited from her mother as her father had those muddy brown eyes. A ray of freckles covered her nose and cheeks making her look like she was only about sixteen. She was so young to be pregnant.
“Hi, my name is Abigail your dad called us, you were sick,” I said.
She looked around the room for her father. I gave Zee a nod to go get him and he hesitated, looking at the girl for a moment.
“It’s fine, Zee. She’s okay,” I assured him.
He left hesitantly at my words.
“What’s your name?” I asked, moving closer, trying to halt all the questions that I knew must be going around in her head right now. Once someone was possessed, they could never remember the ordeal. It was for the best or lots of people would never sleep again.
“Lucy,” she said, still looking around the room that was only lit now by candlelight.
“Lucy? That’s a pretty name,” I said. She looked at me as if I was crazy as I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“What are you doing in my room? And why is everything such a mess?” she asked, looking at all the frames and shattered the glass on the carpet. A logical question, yet I had no logical explanation.
“How far are you gone?” I asked, looking at her stomach, trying to distract her until her dad arrived and he could come up with whatever story he wanted. She looked down at her belly after hearing my question and her cheeks lit up when she realized she was half-undressed. Fear and confusion filled her face.
“It’s okay, Lucy.” I didn’t get to finish as she started to scream while kicking her legs and pulling the remaining blankets off her, blood started to soak the sheets.
“My baby!” she screamed as Zee and her father entered the room. I rushed forward, grabbing the blanket; I needed to stop the bleeding. Her stomach rippled, and I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. A hand formed, pushing its way against her stomach, reaching out to me, stretching her skin almost to breaking point. I fell back off the bed, away from the hand, while pulling the blanket with me. The bed started to levitate.
Lucy’s screams and her father’s pleas to save his daughter made the room swarm.
“Abigail, Abigail,” the voice danced around me, I covered my ears.
“No. No!” Zee’s feet rushed past me and he jumped up on the bed, fighting the hysterical flailing arms that Lucy threw around as her stomach stretched and moved at abnormal angles. The demon had attached itself to the child’s soul. I snapped out of my daze. The cross lay on the ground, its gold surface now tainted with my blood. I grabbed it and jumped up while holding onto the cross for dear life. As Zee placed his hand on Lucy’s stomach, a gust of air ripped through the room, throwing everything into chaos. The candles hit the carpet and distinguished almost immediately, leaving us in darkness. I couldn’t move for a moment, but could only watch as light poured from Zee’s fingertips, blinding us all. The sound ceased to exist at that moment while everything around us continued to shake. I could feel the ground under my feet vibrate. Through the light, I could see Lucy was still alert, her mouth open as she screamed in fear and agony. Her eyes wild, the veins bulged in her neck as she continued to scream soundlessly. It was like watching a movie with the sound on mute. A large crack raced down the wall behind the bed, just stopping at the skirting board, and then the room went dark. The world stopped shaking. 
 


Author Bio:

Aoife

USA Today Bestselling author Aoife Marie Sheridan lives in Ireland, has two leprechauns and a hawthorn tree in her back garden, which she guards day and night against the mischief fairy folk.

When she's off duty she loves to write, read and drink tons of coffee. Oh, and she eats’ lots of chocolate, LOTS of chocolate!

To find out more about Aoife Marie Sheridan you can visit her at:

Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00B5W8SK6

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Aoifemariesheri

Website: www.aoifemariesheridan.com





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