GtPGKogPYT4p61R1biicqBXsUzo" /> Google+ W.I.P. it Real Good: Rachel Rawlings shares a snippet from a new series! | I Smell Sheep

Thursday, August 6, 2015

W.I.P. it Real Good: Rachel Rawlings shares a snippet from a new series!

A huge thanks to I Smell Sheep for having me on the blog today! I’m excited to be here. I went back and forth on what to talk about and finally decided to WIP it! I’m really excited about my current work in progress. It’s a new character in a new world, set in practically in my own back yard Baltimore City. I thought this would be a great opportunity to introduce people to Jax and see what they think of her. But don’t tell my first heroine Maurin Kincaide because as tough as I think I am if she sends her crew after me I’m in trouble!

I swapped out the plain black shirt I'd worn to volunteer at the shelter for a cut off white tee with a spray painted red anarchy symbol on it. One of my favorites, the shirt was short enough to show a little stomach and cut low enough to flash just the right amount of cleavage. My tips improved significantly whenever I wore it. This proved to be no exception.

The place was packed to capacity. Wall to wall people, everyone drinking and having a good time. Completely clueless to the demons roaming the streets, just waiting to torment them and snack on their souls. I envied their ignorance. I wished like hell I didn't know the things I did.

One of the regulars shouted his order for two shots of Fireball over the pounding music and roar of the crowd. I mindlessly filled the glasses and slid them across the bar top, surprised when one made its way back to me. The guy raised his shot glass, waiting for me to lift mine. I clinked my glass against his and slammed the liquor, savoring the cinnamon taste and slow burn. We both slammed the shot glasses upside down on the bar and he disappeared back into the crowd.

I'd made it a rule not to drink more than two shots a night. Something I had to remind myself of more than once during my shift. Thoughts of demons continued to creep into my mind the rest of the night, souring my mood. Thankfully none of the customers noticed or my tips would have suffered.

I made it through my shift. Exhausted and ready to crash I grabbed my stuff from the employee lockers in the backroom. I also grabbed a bottle of Kettle One and dropped some cash on my manager's desk. With a nod he added the money to the drawer he was counting down and I headed home.

I made it a block before the first demon crawled out of an alleyway on my right. The smell of sulfur hit me and I knew it was a lesser demon. The stronger demons smelled of burnt wick, like when you snuff out a candle. I figured that out a couple years ago. Useful information. It helped to know when to fight and when to run. I'd been running more than I'd used to but I could easily send this one back to hell.

I started to speak the words I'd used a dozen or so times to banish demons when I realized there was more than one. I shivered from the intense chill running down my spine. Outnumbered I decided to haul ass. Better to tuck tail and run, and live to fight another day than be ripped to shreds by a pack of lesser demons. I picked up the pace, practically race walking. Until I ran into Lazarus.

By far the most powerful demon I'd come across, Lazarus smelled like ashes, like everything laid waste to the fires of hell. Being able to smell them was just one more perk of my deal with the devil. The ability to sense them grew stronger every day. I took it as a reminder that I was one day closer to joining their ranks and paying my debt to the Lord of the Damned.

He pressed forward, pushing me back toward the alley. "I owe you one, you little bitch." Lazarus struck, back handing me across the mouth before I could back away.

I stumbled back from the blow, running the back of my hand across my mouth to wipe away the blood from my split lip. I'd made a mistake. Again - at least I was consistent. I'd gotten too comfortable with the absence of the demon and let my guard down. I hadn't even been looking for demons when I walked out of the bar. I smelled them before I felt them and that meant I'd let them get too close.

Lazarus came at me again. His hand clamped around my throat, blocking my air flow. I clawed at his fingers, tried to pry them from my neck as little black dots danced along the corners of my vision. I never should have hit him. Content to mentally torment me and haunt my everything step, this was the first time he'd ever touched me and I'd brought it on myself. I knew if I died I'd go to hell. There'd been no calls from the heavenly host, no angelic herald visiting me to say all was forgiven. If Lazarus killed me, it was a one way ticket to eternity in the fiery pits. My survival instincts kicked in to high gear. I wasn't ready to die and I certainly wasn't ready to give myself up to the devil.

I reached into my bag, fumbling around until I got a hold of the neck of the vodka bottle. I yanked it out and cracked it over the head of the demon. The bottle bounced off his head without any of the satisfying shattering glass I'd come to expect from the movies but he did drop me. After gulping in air, I smashed the bottle against the wall and slashed out with the jagged neck. I missed, taking a sharp jab to the ribs in the process. Doubled over, but still holding the broken glass, I tried for another strike, managing to slice Lazarus's thigh. He hissed from the pain but didn't back down. He had me by the neck again, slamming me into the brick wall of the building behind me. Close to blacking out, the bottle neck slipped from my grip.

He pawed my body with his free hand, squeezing hard on my left breast before settling between my thighs. I tried to knee him in the groin, hoping it had the same effect on demons as it did on men but he blocked it. He pulled his hand out from my crotch and punched me in the stomach before clamping it down with his other hand around my throat. If I could have breathed, it would have been a sigh of relief. Lazarus was back to simply trying to kill me. I'd rather be murdered than raped by a demon. Resolved to my fate, I stopped fighting and prepared to meet the Devil.

The sound of footsteps and someone shouting reached my ears as I slid down the wall. Lazarus took off, disappearing at the end of the alleyway. The lesser demons scattered like wharf rats down by the peer. I sat there on the damp ground, surrounded by trash bags and over flowing dumpsters, trying to catch my breath. The person who'd been yelling reached the alley, their footsteps slowed as they realized my attacker fled the scene. Grateful the guy passed by at the same time Lazarus was kicking my ass, I looked up to thank my rescuer.

He extended a hand to help me up off the ground, waiting patiently when I stared at him with my mouth agape. He wiggled his fingers, trying to encourage me to take his hand but I smacked it away. I've never believed in coincidence before and I wasn't about to start. Dane didn't just happen by, he'd been looking for me.

"I'm going to file for a restraining order if you keep this up." I pushed off the cement and stumbled to my feet.

Dane reached out to help me after I swayed a couple times but I shook my head.

"You want me to take you to the emergency room? Get those ribs looked at?" Dane glanced at the arm I'd wrapped around my midsection. "You can fill out a police report while you're there."

"I'm fine. No hospitals, no police." Because when you tell people demons are attacking you they didn't put out an apb for the assailant, they locked you up.

While you wait for Jax's book check out Rachel's The Maurin Kincaide Series! Book one is free!

The Morrigna
The Maurin Kincaide Series
Book One
Rachel Rawlings
Genre: Paranormal Urban Fantasy
Number of pages: 326
Cover Artist: Joseph Eastwood
I'm Maurin Kincaide, a psychometric, and until a few days ago I was working for Salem's Preternatural Task Force as an interrogator. I cracked more cold cases and got more confessions than anyone else in the department. Of course that was before I traded in my badge for an ancient Celtic sword. Now, I'm the Special Liaison for the Council, the governing body of the Others, and I take my orders from witches, werewolves and vampires.

I didn't just make a career change though. I'm not the same person I was before. I'm stronger, I can heal from wounds that would kill a normal person. I'm developing latent psychic skills at a breakneck speed. Oh yeah, and it would seem that a Pagan goddess has taken permanent residence in my body and mind. Crazy thing is, I'm starting to feel normal, like this is who I'm supposed to be.

Of course, there are those who don't agree. Morrigan and her sisters for example. Actually, I'm pretty sure they'd like nothing more than to see me dead. And if I can't stop them and the demons they've raised, they just might get their wish.

Free at Amazon Audible BN

About the Author:
Rachel Rawlings was born and raised in the Baltimore Metropolitan area. Her family, originally from Rhode Island, spent summers in New England sparking her fascination with Salem, MA. She has been writing fictional stories and poems since middle school, but it wasn't until 2009 that she found the inspiration to create her heroine Maurin Kincaide and complete her first full length novel, The Morrigna.

When she isn't writing, Rachel can often be found with her nose buried in a good book. An avid reader of Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, Horror and Steampunk herself, Rachel founded Hallowread- an interactive convention for both authors and fans of those genres.

More information on Hallowread, its schedule of events and participating authors can be found at and .

She still lives in Maryland with her husband and three children.

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for the excerpt! This will definitely be on my "to read soon" list!