Showing posts with label #possession. Show all posts

Teaser Tuesday & A #Free Book!

Teaser Tuesday!


It’s Tuesday! I feel like sharing a teaser from Dark Spirits. It’s the second book in my Beyond the Eyes trilogy. Btw, the first book (Beyond the Eyes) is FREE! The links to where to grab your free copy are at the end of this teaser.
Happy Reading!
Dark Spirits
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance Fantasy

Excerpt:
A tall pale-haired man who looked of Nordic descent seemed to materialize between the trees. The backdrop of the pitch black forest behind him gave the illusion of him being an imposing force not to be reckoned with, like a Viking god straight from Valhalla.
 He stood there and fixed his ice blue eyes on mine. For a second they glowed like flames peering out of a bone-white skull. There was no doubt in my mind. It was Volac. Brayden stepped away. I bowed my head and slowly shook it, the corner of my mouth pulled down in disgust. What a yellow-bellied, worthless piece-of-shit. If Tree were here, he wouldn’t have tucked tailed and left my side. Then something sparked my intuition, some kind of connection between Brayden and Anwar. But I lost it when Volac’s feet shifted. I drew myself up, my survival instincts kicking in. My brain automatically assessed Volac’s vulnerable areas: his windpipe. I could grab it around his visible Adam’s apple and squeeze the larynx, and then strike a blow across it with the edge of my hand. His knees and chest were another vulnerable areas. Hell, his whole damned body was an open season.
“You didn’t think I’d come here without reinforcements?” he said, his thin lips twisting into a smirk. He stuck his index fingers in his mouth and blew a high-pitched whistle.
I knew my mind was the primary weapon in a combat situation. So I stood there in a perfectly balanced stance, prepared to utilize all my strength.
I listened.
In the far distance were heavy footfalls, behind and in front of me, deep in the forest.  Ameerah was calling my name, fear and desperation strangling her voice. As they gained on us, the ringing in my ears elevated to a squeal.
I looked around, assessing the situation.
Like a ghostly apparition, Anwar disappeared, and I found myself questioning whether I had actually seen him or not. Brayden stood on the other side of the truck in a fighting position, like a boxer in a ring, minus the raised fists, his head jerking about.
Then they emerged, shadows growing pulses beneath the pale moonlight. All six of them were males, and the seventh was Ameerah. Three of them surfaced from the forest in front of me with Ameerah. The other three stepped out on Brayden’s side.
Volac made an abrupt whistling sound and raised his palm, halting them. He motioned to the ones behind him to join his side. They moved at his command and stopped when they reached him. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they formed a line in front of me. The brown-haired man at the end with the wind tunneled hairdo and Polo shirt had Ameerah’s hands behind her back in his tight grip. When my eyes connected with hers, she mouthed, “I’m sorry.” At this point, I didn’t know what to think.
Did she set us up? I wondered.
I could feel Volac’s eyes pressing on my face and met them with a defiance a caged tiger would have toward his captor.
“Thanks to Ameerah,” he said as if he were presenting her the medal of valor, “we were able to follow her and observe your little rendezvous from afar. Of cour–”
“I didn’t know, Nathan. I swear.” Ameerah shook her head, her voice pleading.
Although Volac’s stone face twisted in agitation from her interruption, he nodded in agreement. “She didn’t know,” he confirmed, then rubbed his chin, contemplating something. I shot a glance at Ameerah. She was looking at the man behind her. She jerked her arms back, trying to break free from his grasp, cursing at him in Latin in a high whisper. “But I had a feeling she was up to no good when she’d sought me out, only to pluck answers from me about Paige.” He laid a hand on his heart and feigned devastation. “I was quite crushed when her arrival on my doorstep was for purely selfish reasons. I thought I meant more to her than an immortal girl who has the ability to imprison our kind.
             “And then riding on my suspicion regarding the nature of Ameerah’s visit, I sent my bloodhounds and myself out tonight to follow her trail.” He paused and leaned over to frown at Ameerah. “I’m disappointed in you, consorting with the enemy.”
“You’re wrong about them,” Ameerah said. “They’re more against what the ‘old one’ plans to do than you are.”
“I doubt it. Stupid girl.” He turned to me, his eyes boring into mine. I could have easily ripped his throat out right then, but something in me told me to wait. However, if he came any closer, I knew I would because nobody was going to get near Paige. “We didn’t hear what was said between you three. However, we did observe some sort of ritual you performed.” He placed his palms together and slowly rotated his hands. “And interestingly enough, it snatched consciousness away from Paige. So you might have done me a favor because she may never return.”
“What?!” Brayden said, appalled. “Is that what happened to her?” He had an accusing pissed off tone to his voice aimed directly at me, wordlessly saying this would have never happened if she’d been with him.
A blaze of anger roared through me. He didn’t realize what Volac was doing, yet he implied Paige would be safer with him! I could feel the heat in my ears and hear the uncomfortable shifting of the group in front of me. I looked at each one individually, and I don’t know what they saw in my eyes, but they all flinched, and their hearts were racing.
“He didn’t know that would happen to her,” Ameerah spat at Brayden, coming to my defense. “And Paige wanted to.”
“Bullshit!” Brayden hollered. “If he wasn’t so obsessed with getting revenge on Aosoth, he would have paid more attention to Paige and figured out what she can and can’t do”–I whipped my head around, just in time to see him jerk a finger at me– “this would have never happened!”
Chaos erupted.
Brayden was now in my face, and Volac was laughing. I shoved Brayden aside and right when I lunged for Volac’s throat, Anwar appeared behind him and dragged him away from me. I didn’t have time to wonder what Anwar was doing because the dark spirits on the other side of the truck were trying to get inside it. One of them had hold of the door handle, trying to force it open. He looked like a vampire wannabe with jet black hair and a white painted face. Another one was standing on the hood, aiming his biker boot at the windshield directly in front of Paige. An image of it breaking, spraying shards of glass on her, infuriated me. I snatched his raised foot and twisted it. He howled when the bones snapped and fell on his back, his head smacking the hood with a loud thunk.
Agonizing wails echoed around me. At the edge of my vision, I saw Brayden casting the spirit out of the preppy-looking male who had Ameerah. The man on the hood kept gasping for air. I elbowed him in the gut. He raised his shoulders off the hood in response, half-sitting. His arm flung across his stomach and he curled to his side. I flipped him on his back and placed my palm on his forehead and said a quick incantation. He didn’t have enough air in his lungs to scream, and I could hear his heart sputtering. This soulless human was dying, and all I could think about in those few seconds was good, one less vessel to occupy. I felt the dark spirit leave, and the human died. I leaped on the hood, picked him up, and dropped him on the male still trying to get inside the truck.
“Brayden, behind you!” Anwar yelled.
I didn’t bother looking because I was on a mission to send those dark spirits to an agonizing hell similar to Aosoth’s. I flipped into the air and landed beside the man struggling to push the human off him. I lifted the body by the head and torso and tossed it into the forest. It smashed against a tree and fell to the ground in a heap.
“No. Please,” he begged, scrambling to his knees.
 I felt movement behind me. My arm flicked out, my hand encircling a scrawny neck. I swung my arm back around with a handful of throat. I came face to face with a lanky teenager with dark helmet hair. His brown eyes were wide with panic. He grasped at my fingers in a desperate attempt to release my death grip. Slowly, I squeezed his larynx, and then he made the foolhardy mistake of trying to kick me in the groin. I blocked his kick with my knee and crushed his windpipe with a quick pinch of my fingers. Without thought, I tossed him in the forest as well.
Flick.
A sharp, searing pain ripped up my shin. I looked down at the idiot still on his knees, but now he held a switchblade. In one swift move, I kicked it out of his hand, grabbed him by his black T-shirt and slammed him on the ground.
“Please. Please. No . . .  I’m sorry.”
I smacked my palm on his forehead, feeling the blood sticking to my jeans. Someone was screaming. Ameerah?
“I’ll tell you about the ‘old one.’ Just don’t cast me out.” He started to weep.
I paused. “What about the ‘old one’?”
“He’s in town, but he’s waiting.”
I leaned closer to him, my face inches from his. I could smell the fear and marijuana leaking out of his pores–a salty-sweet, pungent skunk smell. “Waiting for what?”
He sucked in a wet sob. “I . . . I. . . . don’t know.”
On that note, I began chanting. He writhed under my grip, screeching until his spirit vacated the body. In the same manner as the other two, I tossed him near their bodies. I noticed Brayden had Ameerah pinned to a tree with his hand clamped around her neck. He raised his other hand. I could hear Ameerah whimpering. In a flash, I hurled Brayden from her. He flew across the road into a ditch.
“Get out of here,” I said to Ameerah.
Her hand fluttered to her throat, her violet eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t know when I’ll see you two again.”
“I understand,” I said, watching Brayden roll onto his side and rise to his feet. “But you need to get out of here.” Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the trees.
“You mother–” Brayden took off, heading straight for me, a tracer streaking across the street.
“Stop, Brayden!” Anwar commanded. Out of nowhere, he appeared in front of me, right when I was about to get some sweet justice. To my surprise, Brayden stopped. “Go home.”
The red in Brayden’s face deepened, and his hands balled into fists. He glanced at the truck. “What about Paige?”
Anwar laid his hands on Brayden’s shoulders. “Nathaniel will take care of Paige.”
“What?” Brayden seethed through gritted teeth, the muscles in his jaw flexing.
I couldn’t see Anwar’s face, but his fingers were pinching Brayden’s shoulders. Brayden closed his eyes, his chest heaving.
“Go home,” Anwar told him again. Brayden opened his eyes and stared at Anwar for a long moment. Something silent was spoken between them because Brayden’s green eyes yielded to whatever it was. And then he took off down the road, vanishing.


Get the first book  (Beyond the Eyes) FREE  hereà




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Cheers!


Sinful Sunday: August 27th, 2017



Okay, gals and gents, this clip is from Ameerah. It’s most of chapter twenty, which is one of my all-time favorite chapters. It’s long, but it’s worth it.

Trust me.

If you gals ever wondered (Come on, I’m sure you have) what it’s like for a guy to have sex with a woman, you’ll no longer have to wonder after this chapter. I’ve had male readers personally contact me to tell me the scene you’re about to read in this chapter where Ameerah is possessing a male for the first time since she became a dark spirit and then having sex with a female, is spot on. They loved it and so did my female readers. In fact, they had to read what I’ll be sharing with you to their husbands.

Seriously.

So those of you who don’t know about Ameerah, she's in book two and three (Dark Spirits and The Devil’s Third) in my Beyond the Eyes trilogy, BUT you don’t have to read those books before reading her story. Her story is a standalone book and can honestly be the first one in the trilogy if it were ever made into a movie or TV series.

Here’s a quick recap of Ameerah: When Ameerah was alive, it was in the 1920s. She loved to dance and became a flapper gal. She was having the time of her life and a bright future was ahead of her—until her own family betrayed her. She was wrongfully committed to an insane asylum, abused, and brutally murdered there. As she was dying, hate for humanity swelled in her heart and consumed her. She then was transported to a recruiting station for the dark spirits. She decided to become one where she could possess soulless humans, be whoever she wanted to be, live the life she desired, indulge in her hedonistic ways (drinking, smoking, sex), and get revenge on those who took everything from her . . .

Now, get some coffee, tea, whatever you fancy, then get comfortably settled in. Let’s get to this chapter. Ameerah and her friends are going to a speakeasy. Her buddy Sylis, who is a dark spirit you don’t want to piss off, talks Ameerah into possessing a guy. Ameerah is a lesbian, btw. Out of curiosity, she enters a male vessel. Here’s the rest of chapter twenty.
____

That night, Sylis talked me into possessing a male. He thought it would be great to fool Aidan at the speakeasy where I was supposed to meet him. I wasn’t too keen on the idea, but my curiosity got the best of me.
What was it like to have a penis?
I asked Sylis, and he roared with laughter, telling me I’d have to find out for myself, so what the hell? I did. I chose a nifty dark-haired fella in a black suit with a matching bowtie at the collar of a white shirt. His eyes were green.
“How do you feel?” Sylis asked after I entered the body. The corner of his mouth twitched from trying not to laugh. I must have had a silly expression on my face or something.
I moved my hips back and forth and grabbed my crotch to adjust it. Good thing we were in the back alley behind the building the speakeasy was in. I wouldn’t want to make a public spectacle of myself. “I really don’t care for this body.” The deep voice that came out of my mouth startled me. Then, my attention shifted to between my legs. The left nut wasn’t sitting right. What a pain-in-the-ass. I moved it over so it sat comfortably.
“Are you having troubles?” Sylis asked, still trying to compose himself from breaking into laughter. He had chosen a vessel similar to his likeness, except this one had olive skin and short, wavy hair.
Ava was back in the same human she was in the previous night, and I imagined Aidan would be, too. She giggled. “Sometimes I’ll jump into a fella when life becomes dull. I didn’t care for it at first, but once I adjusted to the mechanics of the male body, I had a ball.”
“You mean two,” Sylis said, and they both cracked up.
I frowned. The muscles and skin felt tight and heavy. I rubbed my chin. Smooth. At least this one liked a clean shaven-face.
“Well?” Sylis cocked an eyebrow, reminding me I hadn’t answered his question.
“I feel fine,” I told him, “but I don’t know how long I want to remain. I prefer a vagina over a nut sack and ding dong.”
Both Sylis and Ava busted a gut, their laughter surrounding me. I followed them to the front of the brick building, into the barber shop, to the back of the store, and through a hidden door behind a paneled wall. We descended a steep set of stairs and entered another door where we were welcomed with live, toe-tapping music and a smoky room. The club wasn’t as crowded as the night before, but it was still hopping.
“There’s Aidan.” Ava pointed to the fella in the newsboy hat heading to the bar. I was right. He chose the same body as before. “Do you want your usual cocktail, Ameer–” She touched her lips and an Oh-My-God expression entered her face. “What’s this human’s name?”
“Wesley,” I answered in a deep voice I still found bizarre, “but people call him Wes.” I pulled a silver cigarette case out of the inside pocket of the suit I was wearing and plucked a ciggy out. “And yes, I would love a drink.”
She smiled and winked. “Coming right up, Wes.”
“I’m impressed,” Sylis said while I handed him a ciggy and lit mine. “Usually, a newbie wouldn’t be able to reside so soon in a vessel of the opposite sex, but you’re doing remarkably well.”
I realized prodding me to enter a male body wasn’t about fooling Aidan. Sylis was testing me before we took care of Dr. Stratton. I could see why Volac trusted Sylis to take me under his wing. Clever.
“Aside from not enjoying being inside this monkey suit, I feel nifty,” I answered, taking a drag and inhaling deeply. The instant relaxation and euphoric feeling washed over me while I held the smoke in my lungs before slowly breathing it out. The sensation was marvelous.
“Here comes Aidan.” Sylis blew a tunnel of smoke in the direction of Aidan and Ava, both carrying drinks. “You might despise your current host’s gender, but if you lighten up a bit and not hang up your fiddle, you can have a great time.”
Sylis was right. I didn’t want to be a wet blanket, and I should at least try to embrace this foreign body to see if I could receive any enjoyment from it.
Ava handed me my glass. “Aidan knows.”
“You can’t pull the wool over my eyes.” Aidan thumped his chest with his fingertip. “Although, I find your ruse fair play.” He held his beverage up. “Cheers.”
“Too bad,” Sylis said, raising his glass along with the rest of us. “I was hoping you’d fall for our hoax.”
Ava shook her head. “Not Aidan. He’s too sharp.”
“How does it feel to have a flute, lass?” Aidan asked me and laughed.
“I find it . . . unappealing,” I answered.
“You need to get chubbed up and use it,” he told me. “Then, you can thank me later.” He gestured to an attractive blonde who reminded me of Betty with her bobbed hair, feathered, sequined headband, and white fringed flapper dress. “That human tramp has been eyeing you.”
“How do you know she’s human?” Ava wanted to know, a note of alarm in her voice.
“She was at the bar earlier, and I could hear her soul.” Aidan wrapped his arm around Ava’s shoulders. “No worries, lass. You’re my gal, and a fine lookin’ one.” He dipped her backward and kissed her.
“What do you think?” Sylis asked me, shooting glances from me to the blonde.
I imagined her naked. I didn’t know why because normally I wouldn’t. A vision of me sucking on her nipples and penetrating her followed. I could feel warmth in my pelvic area, then blood rushing to the penis, the balls tightening. The penis stirred and grew, stretching against my trousers. I turned my back to the doll eyeing me and stared at the bulge in my trousers.
“What’s eating you?” Ava asked. Her eyes darted to my crotch, and she giggled. “Wow, you’re big.”
“It’s still growing,” I said in horror, “and I can’t stop fantasizing about her.”
Aidan slapped me on the shoulder. “Way ta go. You’re chubbed up. Now, you need to knock the hole off her.”
Sexual images and feelings raged within me. The thing grew some more and throbbed. I touched it through the material and shifted my erection to the side so it wasn’t as noticeable.
“The male body is hardwired differently than the female,” Sylis explained. “When we possess a human, we incur the desires of the human flesh and body, which explains your present situation. Your thoughts and insatiable need to claim her is a byproduct of those things.”
“I say you take her to the backroom where they have petting parties and poke her,” Aidan said.
I swung around, once again facing the crowd, and locked gazes with the blonde. She smiled and waved, feeding the sexual imagery playing in my mind. Waves passed through my throbbing erection. I was rock hard. 
“What are you waiting for, lass?” Aidan nudged my elbow.
“Is there another way to get rid of this?” I didn’t dare point to the bulge out in the open, but Aidan knew what I was talking about, because his gaze bounced from between my legs, back to my face.
“Your only other option is to do a vigorous hand job on the ol’ boy, which in that case”—Aidan pointed in the direction of the john—“you need to find an empty stall and pray you don’t get caught.”
“Not true,” Sylis chided. “Ameerah can think of a mathematical problem or something repulsive to cure her problem, but why waste something that brings you intense pleasure?”
“She’s heading this way,” Ava said, sounding amused.
Sylis leaned next to my ear. “The human is a whore. Time to make a decision, but I suggest you take advantage of her, because if you don’t, I will.”
I attempted to concentrate on counting backward from one hundred, but I couldn’t think straight. The yearning to do more than petting with this blonde held me in its grasp. I drained the last of my cocktail and handed him my glass. I broke free from my group and met her halfway between two tables occupied by a lively bunch engrossed in their own conversations.
She looked at me. Her green eyes were hooded with desire. A coy smile played on her red lips. “I was wondering if you were going to make an appearance tonight, Wes,” she said, surprising me she knew this vessel. Then, out of nowhere, her name came to me.
Ella.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know anything else and would have to play along.
She stepped closer, and I could feel the heat of her sexual hunger for Wes rolling off her in waves. My erection continued to throb and strain against my trousers. “I enjoyed necking with you the other night and was hoping we could finish what we started.” She opened her beaded handbag and pulled out a key. She dangled it in front of me. “The backroom is locked, but I know the owner. We won’t be disturbed this time. What do you say?”
I took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Lead the way, Ella.”
A sensual smile crossed her face. “I want you to know I’m normally not this forward, but since we’ve known each other for a while now and we kissed . . .” She shrugged. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I cradled her cheek in my hand. “The feeling is mutual.”  Let’s get on with it. This monster will not stop pulsing!
She took my hand in hers, and we maneuvered through the crowd to the back. An oak door stood before us. She unlocked it. The room was dark, but once she closed and locked the door and turned on a couple lamps, a soft light flooded the room. There were couches and plush thick rugs scattered about. The glossy wooden walls and art décor made the setting classier than one would suspect, considering what this room was designed for.
She tossed her handbag on a couch, and I didn’t waste any time. I had to release this pressure in my crotch and act on the fantasies plaguing me since I saw her. I kissed her, softly at first. But when she stuck her tongue in my mouth, our kiss grew deeper. Her hand went to my crotch, and when she began massaging the hardness between my legs, I thought I was going to burst. The feeling was remarkable. Despite myself, I groaned and followed her lead, sliding my hand between her smooth legs and rubbing her clitoris in slow circles over her damp satin panties. Breaking our kiss, she threw her head back and moaned. The sound almost drove me over the edge. She reached for the belt and buttons on my trousers and undid them. When they fell to my ankles, I was amazed at how big this human’s penis was and how it stood straight up and bobbed against my abs. The anxiousness to use it became overpowering. We undressed each other and lowered ourselves onto a thick crimson rug. She lay beneath me, and I was careful not to push all my weight on her while I captured her lips, then trailed kisses down her neck.
“I want you inside me,” she murmured.
My lesbian side fought the urge to swiftly take her, so I sucked and nibbled on each of her erect nipples while slipping two fingers between her slick folds and pumping them. Her breaths became fast and thick, and when she arched her back and moaned, I could no longer refrain from not fucking her like this body wanted.
I had to have her.
Now.
With my hand, I guided the penis inside her, and sweet mother of Mary, what a glorious feeling. Her warm wetness and the snug feeling sent off a whirlwind of sensations. Once again, she arched her back and grabbed her breasts, which I found extremely sexy and erotic. More stimulation in the male genital area developed at a rapid speed. I could actually feel the semen rising from the balls, and what followed was a feeling of fullness. How odd, and what a pain-in-the-ass for a fella who would want to prolong the act of intercourse but couldn’t. But those were fleeting thoughts, for I was too wrapped up in a foreign sexual high to focus on one thing.
When I moved my hips forward and backward, her moans grew louder, and her vaginal muscles gripped the penis tighter, nearly sending me to the moon. Despite the warm, tingling sensation in my groin, I managed to hold on, to enjoy this new sexual experience. I lifted her legs, placing her ankles on my shoulders, penetrating her deeper. Her continuous moans, thick breaths, and beautiful body, turned me on to the point where I caught myself huffing and releasing pleasurable sounds. When her hand flitted between her legs to rub herself, and she cried out she was going to come, a warmth spread across my crotch. Waves of sexual pleasure sent me on an intense plateau. I felt fluid expelling up my shaft and a euphoric release. At the same time, Ella’s body tightened and shook.
Blackness.
Son-of-a-bitch!
I catapulted out of the human and found myself standing next to Wes whose body thankfully slumped sideways beside Ella, his arm slung over her stomach. The image of the spot deep in the forest where I’d been to reenergize my spirit, sprang to mind. The next thing I knew, I was there—alone and frustrated.
****
Ameerah received a Reader’s Favorite 5-Star Seal for her story.

You can grab a copy of her story at the following places:








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What Readers Are Saying:

Reading this book had me envisioning this awesome book on screen. I can hear the music in my ears, smell the cigarette smoke and taste the alcohol in between my lips. ★★★★★

I am absolutely in love with Ameerah!!! Rebekkah Ford has a way of painting such a visual that I feel as if I've been transported to that era and living right alongside the characters. ★★★★★

Feel free to contact me if you have any questions. I love hearing from my readers. :) 

Cheers!





Teaser Tuesday!

Teaser Tuesday!

Ameerah
Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy
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Rebekkah Ford draws you in and holds you so tight you feel breathless~Chloe Thurlow author of Katie in Love

Ameerah is a ghostly paranormal with a historical twist. Well-researched, well-written, and fun to read~Amazon reader.

In life, Ameerah is a rebellious flapper gal from the 1920s. In death, she's a vengeful ghost~Amazon reader.

----

Excerpt:
After the horrid bath, Norma threw a towel at me, along with a gray and black checkered cotton dress, white undergarments, gray socks, and black slippers. I put the clothes on, refusing to look at my tormentors. Afterward, Florence took a comb to my hair. Closing my eyes, I endured the rough tugging the best I could, but when the teeth of the comb touched the sore spot on the back of my head, along with Florence’s rough pulling, I hollered, “Ow!” and my hand automatically knocked her hand away, my palm covering that sensitive area. The next thing I knew, I was being yanked backward by my hair.
“You will not disrespect me,” Florence said, gripping my tresses harder. “You will take what I dish out. Period!”
Something snapped inside my brain. The fear of all the consequences I’d have to bear for my actions was gone.
I had enough.
I backed into her in quick steps, and with all my strength, I shoved her into a wall, driving my elbow as hard as I could into her stomach. She let out a sharp gasp and released her grip. Norma charged me, her manly features contorted into a mask of anger. I dodged her and went to grab a wooden chair near the tub. I could have run out of the room, but then what? I had no way of unlocking the doors, so my plan was simple: knock Norma and Florence out with the chair, take the keys and everything else from them, and bust out of here. But when I picked it up, I could hardly lift it. I hadn’t realized how weak I was from the lack of nutrition. I turned and was met with a hard blow square in the face. A loud crunching noise came from my nose, and blood poured out like a running faucet. My hands immediately went up in front of me, and I couldn’t see anything because my eyes were watering from Norma’s punch. The sudden pain almost blinded me.
“We need to teach Sixty-four to respect her elders,” I heard Florence say.
I was roughly shoved backward into the bathtub. The sound of water splashing onto the floor surrounded me when I fell in. I was sitting sideways in the middle, my feet sticking up, my clothes soaked.
I swung my feet in while flinging water at them. “Get away from me!”
“It’s too late for this one,” Norma said, pushing my shoulders down into the soiled liquid and then my head.
My arms flung up to stop her, but Florence snatched my wrists and locked them to my sides. I kicked my feet as hard as I could and in panic, my body twisted back and forth in a struggle to survive. I ran out of breath, and my mouth opened, allowing the water to pour inside me. My chest and lungs were on fire, and everything became yellow and started to fade.
Some birds cannot be caged, and I’m one of them.
A sudden blackness followed, along with a fierce hate that swelled in my heart toward humanity. I detested humans, and mark my words, I would get my revenge on those who wronged me.  
                          ***     
I was in a black void.
One Mississippi.
Two Mississippi.
Three Mississippi.
Three seconds later, everything turned bright white, but it didn’t harm my eyes. Silhouettes of people stood in the distance. There were a couple fellas wearing top hats among the group. I could hear them inside my head; their voices were much clearer and brighter than on earth. It was as if the sun shined on each spoken word. They were talking about my arrival. Curious. But then someone said murder when another asked how I died. The anger in me boiled when sharp images of my demise took hold of me, and the thread of communication between us distorted. The air swirled around me. A grayish, black funnel formed, encasing me inside its belly.
Don’t be afraid.
I wasn’t, I told the phantom voice. The resentment I harbored was too intense to bother with such frivolities. My state of being was wound tightly with sinews of hate, revenge, disgust, and the like.
Good.
 In a matter of seconds, I found myself in a dreary realm, standing on a wooden bridge. A wrought iron lamp post was positioned on both ends. A golden hue lit its glass case. Mist rose from the dark water below, and tall ebony trees stretched across the landscape, their bare limbs webbing the greenish, yellowish sky.
“Where am I?” I wondered out loud, more intrigued than scared. In fact, I felt a sense of elation rather than doom, like I was on the cusp of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that could elevate me in ways I’d never imagined.
“You’re at a recruiting station.”
My eyes darted around me, looking for the owner of the voice I heard. A tall fella appeared through a break between the trees. I crossed the bridge and met him halfway. His attire reminded me of the bartender at Slim’s speakeasy: brown trousers, matching suspenders, newsboy hat, and an off-white long sleeved button-up shirt—a familiar sight that warmed my heart. I instantly liked him.
“Recruiting station?” I was off the trolley, because I didn’t understand what he meant. “I see no one here but us?”
His welcoming smile reached his deep blue eyes. “I have a lot to teach you, lass, but before my manners run away from me, I’m Aidan Cain Logan to be precise. If you accept my offer, I’ll help you along.” I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but he spoke before I could, his Irish accent sprinkling each word. “Ameerah Arrowood. No middle name. I know all about you, so there is no need for you to layout your biography.”
“How?” I was dumbfounded he had knowledge of my existence and wondered if he really did know everything about me and my life on earth or if he was fooling me.
He moved his hand above his head clockwise. The trees vanished, revealing a vast, endless field of crushed wheat. Groups of shadowy figures in pairs were scattered across the planes. He repeated his gesture; only, this time his hand went counterclockwise instead. The image disappeared, replaced by the prior one.
“Just because your eyes cannot see what’s around you, doesn’t mean it’s not there,” he simply stated. “On the matter of me knowing who you are, the best way I can explain it is each recruiter is assigned a certain area on earth. When a spirit harbors and emits an energy, much like our own, we’re drawn to it. We watch it.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about his admission. Was he the cause of all the turmoil in my life? “Did you have a hand in my demise?”
His brown hair brushed back and forth against his collar when he shook his head. “Nah, I’ve never toyed with your life. I like your spunk. Besides, recruiters can’t possess soulless humans or humans who allow us passage into their bodies unless we’re on duty with a newbie.”
“Soulless humans?”
“There are people born without a soul,” he said as if it were old news. “Dark spirits can dwell in these soulless humans, live the life they desire, and enjoy the pleasures of being back in the flesh, such as sex, alcohol, drugs, food, and whatnot. It’s quite fun actually. I’m looking forward to jumping into the game again.”
My thoughts spun.
Dark spirits?
Soulless humans?
Possession?
Normally, I would think he was full of baloney, but considering where I was and what I’d seen thus far, I had no reason not to believe him.
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#SALE $3.00 Off The Cover Price! #Ameerah: A Gripping #Paranormal Thriller

I have a March Madness sale going on that you don’t want to miss. $3.00 off the cover price.
Who doesn’t like a good deal?
Ameerah is getting great reviews and readers are urging me to get this story made into a movie. I’m flattered. I told them I’ll see what I can do to make it happen, but in the meantime, the world needs to know about Ameerah.
So who is Ameerah and what’s the story about?
I’m a visual person so I’m going to tell you through pictures and teasers.













Like Louis in Interview with the Vampire, Ameerah tells her story on why and how she became a dark spirit who can possess soulless humans. The story begins in present day, then she takes the reader to 1925 when she was alive, having the time of her life as a flapper gal working at a speakeasy, then she’s betrayed by her own parents. She’s wrongfully committed to an insane asylum where horrible things are done to her. 
She’s murdered there. 
She finds herself in a dreary realm that happens to be a recruiting station for the dark spirits. Aidan is her recruiter. He’s Irish. He’s hot. He’s hilarious. He talks her into becoming a dark spirit to seek her revenge on those who double-crossed her. From there he teaches her about his world and how to possess soulless humans–how it all works. The story progresses from there, weaving between timelines, to present day.
Ameerah is seeking salvation, hoping if she tells her story to her dark spirit friend Derek, he’ll help her, and she’ll be able to cross over.
Will Ameerah succeed or will another blow to her fragile heart send her over the edge?
In a nutshell, that’s the story; however, it’s much deeper than that.

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