Ashes Still Burn #3
“Ashburn rocks, it really does and so does this series”
What Readers are Saying About The Blood of Ashburn!
“Ashburn rocks, it really does and so does this series. Sitting in the dark reading a great story that is set in my home is a little spooky. The books are well written…and I’m really hoping there will be [a] book 4.” – bs_j
“I could hardly wait for this 3rd book to come out, it did not disappoint….awesome read…loved the way it ended!!!!” – SH
“Absolutely mint books really enjoyed them want more soon, good story great characters.” – ra
Something Hungers Beneath the Town of Ashburn
David is a human spirit trapped in a demon’s body, forced to serve the evil being who saved his soul but ruined his life.
As the supernatural enforcer of Ashburn, David’s responsible for keeping the gods and demons in town under control and out of trouble. But he's also supposed to keep them safe. So when the local sheriff finds a minor demon broken and drained of his blood, David begins a hunt for the killer.
As David sheds light on one part of the truth, he’s pulled down into an even greater darkness that lies deep beneath the town. A hidden world steeped in primordial myth, where vampiric demons roam, desperate for blood. A forgotten city built by an ancient race that thrived before the time of gods and demons. But also, a possible path to freedom.
David may finally have a chance to escape Ashburn, but to do so, first he’ll have to survive a harrowing journey through the caverns and tunnels beneath the town, where everyone, including his traveling companions, wants only one thing from him—his blood.
"The Blood of Ashburn" is Book #3 in the Ashes Still Burn Series.
A Sample from The Blood of Ashburn
“We have a problem, John,” the sheriff said through his thick mustache. “I need you to come over to the 7-11 and take a look at a body.”
“Humans aren’t my jurisdiction.”
“This thing wasn’t human. It looks…just awful, like something out of a horror movie.”
I cursed under my breath. Another dead demon. Ahriman wasn’t going to be happy.
“Give me a minute, and I’ll meet you there,” I said.
“I’ll wait in the parking lot,” the sheriff said. “And John? Maybe lose the cape. Just a suggestion.”
As soon as he was out the door, I raced to the hallway, stepped through the portal to the hidden dimension, and tossed the cape back onto the coat rack so that it once again covered up the old, gray sweater beneath it.
All in all, maybe thirty seconds passed until I was back in the store and heading for the door, ready to follow the sheriff and figure out what the hell was going on. But it turns out, that was long enough for an old lady with blue hair to step into my bookstore. She carried a large tome tucked under one arm and had a deadly glare in her eyes.
“Young man, this establishment is never open, and I have a book you must have. And do not tell me that now is not a good time. I am not leaving until you buy this volume from me.”
I started to tell her we were closed and that the sheriff was outside waiting, but I figured it would be quicker to just buy her book as fast as I could and send her on her way.
“How much?” I said, moving toward her.
She took a step back.
“Don’t you want to know what this is?”
“I’ll read it later. How much? I need to go.”
“You are not a very good book seller. Or buyer,” she said, shaking her wrinkly head. “You must first make me an offer.”
I didn’t have time to haggle with her, so I ducked behind the cash register, popped open the drawer, and looked for some cash.
Of course I didn’t find any—just a plastic sign facing the customers that said we only accepted Visa and Mastercard.
However, I did discover a drawer full of oversized, silver coins stamped with geometric symbols around their edges. One side of the coins showed a stylized, eight-pointed starburst, while the back of each coin was etched with image of a horned, demonic face. I grabbed a few of the pieces of silver and stepped in front of the counter, offering them to the old lady.
“Is this enough?”
When she studied the coins in my hand more closely, her face turned ashen. With a delicate pincer-like grip, she picked out a single coin from my upturned palm, then handed me the book.
She bowed her head, squeezed the coin inside her hand, and winced, almost imperceptibly.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, in a soft voice.