The second book in my bestselling TIM REAPER series is now available for pre-order!

What’s it about?

After saving the humanity from a psychopathic angel bent on hastening the end of days, Tim Reaper can be forgiven for hitting the bottle hard. It’s not every day that a former grim reaper gets to fall in love for the very first time only to have to kill the girl he’s fallen for or let the world burn. It’s five months since Reaper had to make that impossible choice.

Meanwhile, in North End Dartmouth, a mother has been stabbed to death in her bed and the only witness is an eight-year-old girl with a peculiar gift. She knows the truth of all things and has taken to writing the base code of the universe on her bedroom wall. She possesses knowledge no human being was ever meant to have and that means she’s got a target on her back. Angels, demons, and everything in-between want the girl dead and her only hope of survival rests with Tim Reaper who must keep her alive long enough to meet with someone Reaper calls, The Man with the Big White Beard.

Annnnd … here’s a sample!


I thought for a moment that the earth might open my up and swallow me hole because the look on Charlotte’s face could melt the hull of an aircraft carrier. I motioned for her to calm down and said, “We’ll just leave questions about who and what you are alone for now, okay?”

Charlotte nodded and followed me to the small ante-room where I’d set up the sleeping arrangements during Amy’s brief stay in Das Bunker. It took me a couple of minutes to create a comfy little nook in the corner complete with a cot, an air mattress, and a spare sleeping bag. I placed a small battery powered lamp on a milk crate beside the makeshift bed and then tossed a copy of Muscle Car Fury on the bed.

“What’s this?” asked Charlotte, holding up the magazine.

“It’s a magazine filled with pictures of classic American muscle cars. I don’t have any kid’s books in here, and we’re not heading to town to get any until we figure out a plan for how to keep you safe.”

She tossed it onto her bed and then crawled inside the sleeping bag. “Well?”

I arched my eyebrows. “Well, what?”

“Are you going to zip me up? It’s not a real bed so you can’t tuck me in, but you can zip me up, Mister.”

“What is that—some parental ritual or something?” I asked, immediately regretting it.

Charlotte sniffled for a moment and then wiped her nose.  “I miss my mom,” she said in the tiniest of whispers.

And a strange thing happened. I felt a flutter in the center of my chest. A tiny ache that I’d never experienced before in all my years walking the Earth and living inside human skin. I wasn’t entirely sure what it was—possibly a tiny case of heartache? A human feeling of empathy? The tiny girl had lost everything over the last few hours. She was attacked by her mom’s boyfriend, an Abraxas-possessed social worker and then a truckload of demons—all in a matter of hours. If this was the way her life had always been, then I had to question whether it was a life at all. The girl was powerful—too powerful based on what I’d already witnessed. All that power trapped inside a child’s body; something was bound to give.

I didn’t possess any form of parental instinct, but that tiny fluttering in the center of my chest wasn’t going away as I watched the girl sob into her pillow. I had to do something that instinct would allow me to do without thinking but I didn’t know what it was.

And so I just leaned against the wall opposite the cot and slid down until I was sitting on the floor. It would be my first shift on sentry, and I reckoned the first of many until I could figure out why Charlotte was on Hell’s hit list. She sobbed for about five minutes before crying herself to sleep.

“The girl can’t live like this,” I whispered.




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Posted August 23, 2017 by Sean Cummings in category "Blog

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