 CHAPTER THREE No doubt they made a curious pair to any onlooker: the somber physician and the gregarious bootblack. Davy Butler had spied him the moment he left the clinic and now tagged along at his side, whistling a tune. As usual, the boy’s face begged for soap and water.
“How’s your leg this evening?” Alastair asked, noting Davy wasn’t limping as much as usual. “Right as rain,” the lad chirped. Alastair delivered a skeptical look. Davy would say anything to mollify him; it was the child’s nature. His mind skipped back to their first meeting––the twist of fate that had cost Alastair his future in Mayfair––Davy lying in the rain-soaked street, his right leg bent at an impossible angle while a carriage driver bellowed a torrent of abuse. Fighting back tears, the boy had insisted he couldn’t be hurt, that he had to work to feed his mum. CHAPTER TWO Monday, 24 September, 1888 London Pressing the coins into the hansom driver’s rough hand, Alastair shook his head at the question. “No, you do not need to wait.” “As you wish, sir,” the jarvey replied, touching his battered cap in respect. He jiggled the reins, and the cab clattered down the street. Alastair watched it turn the corner as he dropped the remaining coins into his pocket. He regretted spending the money, but he’d run late at the hospital, forcing him to secure a ride to Marylebone. Flipping open his pocket watch revealed it was three minutes until five. He would be on time. CHAPTER ONE Pompeii, Italy August, 79 A.D. The sky was falling. Pumice stones rained in a dissonant curtain, shattering roof tiles and clattering in the courtyards. An amphora near Jacynda Lassiter’s feet exploded. Crimson wine splashed her pure-white stola, cascading onto the ornate tiles. She braced herself in the doorway as an earth tremor rocked the walls of the villa, her eyes flooding from the scorching stench of sulfur. Cynda wiped away tears with the back of her hand. “Alfred Bartlesby?” The academic didn’t acknowledge her, his pale, bald head bent over a table illuminated by the anemic light of a half-dozen oil lamps. He huddled over a mound of papyrus scrolls, seemingly oblivious to Vesuvius’ rage.  It had to happen eventually and the Time Rovers series proved to be a game changer in many, many ways. Read on to find out why.
 With the exception of the UK paperback, LOST SOULS is now live in print on Amazon and in e-book editions on Amazon, iBooks and Kobo.
To find the links just go here. And now for some updates:  LOST SOULS video has been posted on my Facebook pages and on my Twitter feed!
Jana Oliver Personal Page https://www.facebook.com/668247462/videos/558128435357791/ Jana Oliver Author Page https://fb.watch/9FFnEJlBfN/ https://twitter.com/crazyauthorgirl My thanks to artist Mark Helwig for his chilling illustration of the Grade Three Gastro-Fiend. Those things are UGLY.  LOST SOULS Demon Trappers Series Book 8 FOUR Master Blackthorne’s plan to introduce her to the exorcist had hit a snag: As they were trying to find a parking place, Riley had been called to a trapping gone wrong. The injured trapper kind of wrong. After pointing her toward the church, the master had driven off at top speed. Despite her worry for the unnamed trapper, once again Katia was on her own in a city she didn’t know. At least this time she had Riley’s phone number and some money. LOST SOULS Demon Trappers Series Book 8 THREE Though she’d not wanted to act that needy, Katia had ordered a big bowl of oatmeal, two breakfast sandwiches, and the largest cup of coffee they offered. Then she’d wolfed down the food like it’d been the only meal she’d had in the last two days. Somehow Master Blackthorne had guessed this was the case. But how? She wants me to call her Riley.  LOST SOULS Demon Trappers Series Book 8 TWO Master Riley Blackthorne’s stack of official paperwork seemed to grow daily. Another form here, another report there, it all added up. Her superior was happy to hand it all off to her. If it’d been anyone else but Master Harper, she’d think him giddy at the prospect, but the grizzled trapper wasn’t wired that way. He claimed her handwriting was neater, which was true. Because this was her lot in life, she chose where to conduct this Herculean task. As was often the case, it was her favorite coffee shop in downtown Atlanta, the Grounds Zero. Unlike her usual hot chocolate, she sipped on iced coffee because it was toastier than Hell outside. Well, not quite as bad as that, but close. Riley certainly knew the difference.  LOST SOULS Demon Trappers Series Book 8 ONE May 2019 Atlanta, Georgia Simon Adler glanced at the address in the text message, then compared it to the white mailbox at the end of the driveway. It’d taken longer than he’d anticipated to find the right house. Sometimes the confusion was the fault of the subdivision, but usually it was Hell’s trickery. Since he was a lay exorcist for the Vatican, Lucifer, and his infernal minions, went out of their way to make his life difficult. |
Jana Oliveris an international & multi award-winning author in various genres including young adult, urban fantasy and paranormal romance. Archives
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