Ninie Hammon’s Blog for Readers

Sneak Peek #2 of The Knowing, Book Two

Posted: April 20, 2016, 6:26PM


"Miss Minnie and Mr Gerald"     


         The Knowing is a trilogy--three books that tell a single story that's too big to tell in one. It's not a series, a saga where the characters continue in book after book. Instead, it is one big story with a beginning (Book One), a middle (Book Two) and an end (Book Three). Book One of the trilogy was published last fall and I am working on Book Two now. I'm hoping to release the third book around Halloween.

          Before it was published last fall, I posted two blogs that contained excerpts from Book One. I posted a sneak peek of Book 2 a couple of months ago and it seems readers have enjoyed all of them. I promised I'd provide one last look-see into The Knowing, Book Two before it was published and this is it.

         Finding just the right excerpt is not as easy as it might seem. What you share with readers before a book is published must whet a reader’s appetite, give them a glimpse at the plot/style/tone of the book and NOT give away key information that will become a spoiler when they read the book.

          I believe I've found a selection of the story that will meet all that criteria. I hope it will engage the imagination of readers who've read Book One as well as readers who have not. I don't think you need any set-up to know what's going on. It's pretty self-explanatory.

 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the                                  authorities, against the powers of this dark world.

                                                The Bible, Ephesians 6:12


  There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

                                                    William Shakespeare 


                  The Devil went down to Georgia, lookin' for a soul to steal.

                                                        Charlie Daniels 


                            THE KNOWING:
                               BOOK TWO

                                      By Ninie Hammon 


            Something was wrong. Sixty-four-year-old Theresa Washington felt it the way her grandpa felt the sudden ache of arthritis in his bones when the weather was about to change. She tried to deny it, of course, would likely continue to deny it all the way up until she found out what the bad was.

            Lightning shattered the darkness, shards of a broken mirror raining out of the sky. She tensed for the bowling-alley rumble of thunder that would follow as the street ahead appeared and disappeared in rhythm with the wipers sweep across the windshield.

           “Fool!” she muttered aloud. “Out in a storm like this, you deserve to run off the road into a ditch.” 

           ’Course, you seldom got what it was you deserved in this life and most times that was a good thing.

            She turned down Elmcrest Circle where the streetlights glowed through the veil of rain but all the houses were dark. The storm must have knocked out the power. She could see lights in the windows of most houses, though, flickering candles or the bright, luminescent glow of a lantern.

            Miss Minnie got decorative candlesticks in every room in that whole house. Even the bathroom. They’s fine!

            That was the thing, though, wasn’t it—Theresa didn’t really believe Minnie and Gerald Cohen were fine at all. Oh, today was Thursday and she hadn’t missed going to see the elderly Jewish couple every Thursday evening and Sunday in years. But that’s not why she was out in this monsoon. She was here because of the ache of evil in her bones.

           Theresa’s headlights washed the lions on both sides of the driveway in harsh light when she turned off the street. The house was totally dark. Wasn’t a light on in any of the rooms that faced the street. Aw, wasn’t nothing. They just had them heavy drapes pulled, that was all. There were plush drapes in every room. Miss Minnie called the ones in the parlor Scarlet O’Hara drapes ’cause they was made out of green velvet and had tassels on the tie-backs.

            She opened the car door and stuck the mini umbrella she kept under the front seat out into the cold downpour and opened it to cover her as she got out. Didn’t do hardly no good at all soon as she stepped away from the car—wasn’t nothing mini going to cover up her maxi. But it did keep her head dry as she hurried up the sidewalk, splashing through puddles.

            The wet rubber soles on her new shoes squeaked on the Moroccan tiles spread out in a design on the porch in front of the door. The shoes wasn’t broke in yet, hurt her feet, but they went with the white Good Samaritan Hospital’s Ladies Auxiliary uniform she wore and the old ones was worn out. She could have stopped by her house to change clothes and shoes—and to get a raincoat!—but that’s when the knowing of it come on her and she drove straight to the Cohens.

            There was no sound from inside when she knocked on the door. It was a big house, though. If neither one of them had their hearing aids in, they’d miss the sound altogether. But they’d ought to be listenin’ for it. They was expecting her. And what about Biscuit? The old couple had fed a mongrel pup a couple of years ago that never left Mr. Gerald’s side and always set up a ruckus, barking and carrying on when Theresa come to visit, so excited he’d near wet himself.

            Where was the dog?

            She started to go around to the side door, but was reluctant to get any more drenched than she already was. She tried the knob instead. The door wasn’t locked. Theresa grunted in annoyance as she pushed it open. She was gone have to give them the speech again, ’bout how they needed to lock—

            The darkness wasn’t drapes. There were no candles lit anywhere. The entry hall was a black cavern and the house beyond was still and quiet. Theresa’s heart kicked into a gallop. She closed her umbrella and stepped inside, and even though she knew it would do no good, she still reached out to the switch beside the door. There was a crystal chandelier high above her head, laced with cobwebs, that had become a word-picture for Theresa of the decay of the huge house the old couple had neither the means nor the energy to care for anymore.

           She flipped the switch up and down a time or two but no light danced in the dusty crystals. Though somehow reluctant to disturb the profound silence all around her, she called out to them.

          “Miss Minnie. Mr. Gerald. Where you at?”

           There was no response, so she stood where she was and listened hard as she could.

           Almost drowned out by the pounding of her heart was a small sound, a dog barking, only muffled, like Biscuit was down in a well. But no demon wails. She heaved in a deep breath, sniffing the air. It was musty as always, the aroma of old—crumbling plaster, ancient dust, decaying wallpaper. But no demon stink. Theresa had the knowing. Oh, she couldn’t see them like Bishop and Andi and Becca could, but she could hear and smell them. And sometimes, not always, she could flat-out sense they was there when wasn’t no reason a’tall to believe that was the case. And right now, the alarm bell on that sense was going ding, ding, ding!

           She took a couple of steps down the hallway where rooms with wide French doors or big oak ones opened on the left and right. She couldn’t wander around in the dark, though, so she set her purse and umbrella on the floor and took out her iPhone, wishing she'd let Andi put that flashlight app on it the child had wanted to download. Still, when you tapped the digital clock, the screen turned to solid light and that pallid glow chased some of the shadows into the corners. She moved toward the sound of Biscuit barking in the back of the house.

           Apprehension grew in her chest with every step. The dark, the quiet—and now a smell she couldn’t identify replaced the old-house stink. It smelled … coppery, like wet pennies. She came to the door of the parlor, strange and foreboding, like something out of a black-and-white Frankenstein movie in the shadowy incandescent glow from the cell phone screen. She put her hand on the doorknob, telling herself she’d find Mr. Gerald and Miss Minnie cuddled together on the couch in there, candlelight flooding the room as Mr. Gerald read some classic work of literature to Miss Minnie, who couldn’t see well enough to read no more.

           That’s not what she found. No flickering candles. No light of any kind, just a vast expanse of black.

            It was a big room with a sixteen-foot ceiling and the dark ate up the pale glow from her phone. The copper smell was strong here. She could almost tell … it was familiar, she’d smelled it before but couldn't place where.  She stood in the open doorway for a moment and swept the phone glow in arcs out into the room but it couldn’t penetrate the thick, tar blackness enough to—was that something there, something on the sofa on the far side of the room? Someone asleep, maybe?

           She started across the room to investigate, but had taken only a few steps when her right foot hit something slick and she slipped. She tried to regain her balance but her left foot connected with something on the floor and she tripped over it, stumbled and went down hard on one knee.  Her cell phone flew out of her hand and clattered on the hardwood floor face side—light side—down, slid across the floor and came to rest about fifteen feet away. She was able to put out a hand before she face-planted on the hardwood floor and ended up on her side, the breath temporarily knocked out of her.

           Sucking in a gasp of air, then another, she rolled over and got up on her hands and knees, her arthritis screaming in protest. When she started to crawl toward her phone. Her hand brushed something—the thing she’d tripped over—and she reached out in the dark, feeling around but couldn’t find it. What she did find was that the floor all around was wet. Sticky wet. That’s why she’d slipped. And it smelled like…

           Copper. Pennies. Suddenly, she knew what smelled like pennies.

           She scrambled the last few feet to her phone and snatched it off the floor. The face glass was cracked but the light still shone, blinding her for a moment. In its glow, she saw what was on her hands, saw the blood on her hands—for only an instant, then the light on her cell phone blinked and went out and the darkness rushed in all around her.

           Theresa clutched her phone in her wet, shaking hands, frantically punching the button on the top to start it again. Nothing. The button on the bottom, then, the Siri button. She slid her wet fingers down the cracked face and punched the indentation at the bottom. No voice asked, “What can I help you with?”

           Now, her heart was hammering in her chest like some lunatic on a padded door. But she was afraid to try to stand. The knee she’d banged was a hot poker of agony. Old, fat women couldn’t fall down without messing up something. Besides, even if she hadn’t hurt her knee, she didn’t think her legs could hold her right now. Couldn’t crawl far on that bum knee either. She’d scoot then—across the hardwood floor to the door. She looked around in the profound blackness. Where was the door? Before it went out, the cell phone light had flashed in her eyes and they weren’t adjusted enough to the darkness to see whatever little bit of illumination might be shining through the doorway.

           Her heartbeat ratcheted up another notch and panic swelled in her chest. The door had to be … this way, this was the way she’d come, wasn’t it? She scooted as fast as she could, tried not to let herself know what was on the floor that made it so slick she’d fallen, in the puddles her hand fell into as she scooted. She wiped her hands on her blouse repeatedly, feeling around in the blackness, but encountered no door frame. She’d only come in the room a few steps, then fell, then crawled toward her cell phone. She couldn’t have come this far. It must be the other way. Reversing direction, she started to scoot again, her heart roaring in her ears so loud she didn’t know if Biscuit had stopped barking or she just couldn’t hear the sound anymore.

           Her hand hit something else on the wet floor besides a puddle. What her fingers touched  felt like … hair? No. Please, no. Her fingers followed the tresses—soft like Miss Minnie’s white hair when it wasn’t caught up in a bun—but wet and sticky. She reached out farther in the blackness until her fingers touched something solid. She felt along its surface until she touched … a forehead—the skin was cold, like a doll’s.  A scream crawled on hairy black legs up the back of her throat but she couldn’t give it voice because her lungs were full of the air she’d gasped in at the touch of cold human flesh and now she couldn’t exhale.

           She reflexively yanked her hand away from the clammy touch, but her fingers were tangled in the sticky hair. Struggling to get her fingers free—panic bursting bright colored lights in front of her eyes—air finally exploded out of her lungs, carrying with it a screeching wail like a rip racing down a canvas sail. She staggered upward. Away. Had to get away! Tried to stand and run, but merely slipped and fell again on the slick floor, landing on her back this time. Her head banged into the floor and shiny spots burst in front of her eyes.

           She closed her eyes to blink the spots away, her heart exploding out of her chest, and when she opened them again, the spots were gone. But they’d been replaced by a red glow high above her. In the corner on the other side of the room, up next to the ceiling, was a strange red light. Without pausing to consider what it might be, she rolled over on her side and got to her knees preparing to stand again. The glow got brighter, but didn’t really illuminate anything. Facing away from it now, she nevertheless saw it spread out across the ceiling, flow across the ceiling like water from a wave gliding across wet sand. It reached the wall in front of her, then began to … drip down it. It was light, but it oozed down the wallpaper like blood dripping from the ceiling.

            And then she knew she didn’t want to look back at that far corner to see where the light was coming from. Must not. She cringed away from it in the dark, shrank down into the smallest part of herself in the profound dark that was somehow not lit at all by the red glow above, the glow that was dripping down the walls.

           “I was just finishing up.”

            The voice.

            She was utterly paralyzed by the sound. It was more than mesmerizing, stronger than hypnotic. It was pure evil, wrapped in a pleasant baritone, honey poured over shards of glass, so totally other that the foreign sound took Theresa’s breath away.

            “Look at me,” the voice said. And Theresa felt her body and head turning toward the sound. Only she wasn’t doin’ the turning. She fought against it, tried to resist, but her pitiful little effort meant nothing at all. She suspected—no, she was sure—that if she could somehow have kept her head still, her neck would have snapped from the pressure.

            What slid into view when she turned was impossible. The red glow came from the corner of the room up near the ceiling. It radiated in undulating waves from a man, distorting him the way heat waves in the desert warp the horizon. He hung there, suspended, dressed in a business suit, tie straight, pants creased, every hair in place. Well, what hair there was. Much of it on the right side had been burned off and a jagged piece of scar snaked down across his face like red barbed wire.

           She was no more surprised by a man suspended in the air than she was by who the man was. Chapman Whitworth. The man who’d summoned a monster demon into the world when Jack, Daniel and Becca was twelve years old, more than a quarter of a century ago. The man who just a few days ago was nominated by the president to fill a vacant seat on the United States Supreme Court.

            “Do you think you can stand against me?” Whitworth asked, his tone bemused. “Seriously? You and Jack and Daniel—is that what you think? Because if you do …” His voice changed then, became the voice of an elderly black woman with a soft southern drawl, “…you got a whole heap more thinks a’coming, missy-girl.”


           It felt like he’d slapped her.

            “This is the only warning you’ll get. Pass it along. If you mess with me”—then the voice ceased to be mesmerizing and hypnotic. It turned raw and guttural, so harsh and jagged her ears might bleed from hearing it—“I’ll make you wish you were dead. I'll take you completely out of the game.”

          Theresa’s thoughts scattered, leaves hit by a breeze.

          Don’t let me cry.

          Reckon anybody ever died just from being afraid?.

          I wish Bishop was here.

          His strong presence would have changed everything. She was certainly a poor second best. Bishop spoke his last words to a demon ’fore it killed him and he could see the monstrous thing, not just the man form it was living in. Jack said Bishop’s voice had sounded strong and firm.

          “We will beat you,” Theresa said. “Just like we did the last time.”

          Where did that come from? Theresa had absolutely not formed them words in her mind or pushed them out of her mouth. Not with a steady voice—she was shaking like a half froze hummingbird. The thought, the intent, the words, the will to say them—none of it had come from Theresa. And that was both the most comfortin’ and most frightenin’ realization of her life.

          The red glow grew so suddenly intense she could have seen it clearly with her eyes closed. Something formed around the man, a red shape, a monster face twisted with anger and hatred. Like Andi’d seen that day they all found out the war wasn’t over yet, that their battle against a king of demons called an efreet was just beginning. The face glowed above--

          Light suddenly flooded the room, along with the sound of music—literally The Sound of Music—blaring from stereo speakers brought to life by returning electricity. The glare struck Theresa blind, staggered her like a blow. She squinted through a forest of eyelashes but her mind flatly refused to assemble the flashing images of what she could see into an identifiable whole.

         Red everywhere. Blood! On the furniture, the floor. All over her own hands and arms and clothing. Miss Minnie lay on the floor a few feet away, covered in blood. Mr. Gerald lay sprawled spread-eagled by the door—she’d tripped over his foot. An ax was stuck in his chest like a lumberjack had left it in a tree stump.

         She screamed again, startling the man dressed in black sweatpants and a black hoodie who had just appeared in the doorway on the other side of the room.

          “What are you doing here?” Whitworth yelled at him. And it was his voice, a man’s voice. She turned to see him standing in the corner of the room where an instant before he’d been suspended near the ceiling. The red light was gone. Whitworth looked normal, though he still seemed almost to be outlined in red Magic Marker.

           The man made a move to come into the room, had one foot lifted.

          “Stay out of here, fool,” Whitworth said. “I told you to turn the electricity back on and then wait in the car. Go!” The man vanished out the doorway.

          Whitworth turned his attention back to Theresa, but her mind had gone to a place where even a demon from hell couldn’t call her back. Reality had finally elbowed its way into her consciousness. The old couple she loved, sweet Miss Minnie and gentle Mr. Gerald—had been hacked to death.

         Suddenly, Whitworth was standing in front of her, though she never saw him take a step. His feet were not touching the floor.

          Then the ax in Mr. Gerald’s chest moved, wiggled slightly and pulled out of the bloody chest with a distinct “smuck” sound. It moved through the air like a kid’s helium balloon on a string until it was there beside Whitworth.

          He was gonna kill her after all, bury the blade in her like it’d been in Mr. Gerald. She instinctively lifted her arm up above her head to ward off the blow.

          Whitworth kicked her leg, not like to hurt her but a nudge to get her attention. She opened the eyes she’d squeezed shut and looked up at him, his scarred face clear in the light from the pole lamp beside the chair. Mr. Gerald’s chair, where he sat and read the sports page of the Cincinnati Inquirer every morning after breakfast. 

         “Take it,” he said and nodded to the ax. When she didn’t move, he spoke again, a tone of menace in his voice. “I said take it.”

         Theresa reached up a trembling hand and took the ax by the bloody handle, then sat unmoving, holding it awkwardly in front of her.

          “…every mountain, ford every stream, follow every rainbow…” Julie Andrews’s voice filled the room, not quite drowning out the sound of far-away barking.

          “Have a nice rest of your day,” Whitworth said, and she felt herself being flung forward, her head connected with the oak floor and the world was gone.



Reba April 21, 2016, 10:59PM

No words can describe the awesomeness of this sneak peek!    Reply

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Kat April 21, 2016, 11:07PM

Wow. That was worth the wait! Amazing, it left me breathless and speechless.   Reply

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Anna Rasmussen April 21, 2016, 11:14PM

He just framed her good and proper. Can't wait to get Book 2. You done good again! I just know it.   Reply

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Carlene Coleman April 21, 2016, 11:17PM

More, more! Guess I'll have to wait, but WOW!!!!!!$   Reply

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Stephenie Gray April 21, 2016, 11:21PM

I can't wait! Thank you for being good to your fans! We may not reach out but you are endeared. Reading your personal quips reminds me of my mothers way of writing. I love your humor and would love to see you in Colorado. Grand junction or evergreen would be my two options. :)   Reply

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Judy April 21, 2016, 11:49PM

Wow!! This was like dangling a lobster tail in front of my face, then pulling it back at the last second! June? That's way too long for your readers.
This sampling already shows signs of being just as good as The Knowing. You needn't have worried about that.
Thank you for sharing!   Reply

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Janis Dyke April 21, 2016, 12:23AM

I can't wait until JUNE to see what happens! I hope it is June 1.    Reply

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Abbie Thackrah April 21, 2016, 12:39AM

Holy mother of The Knowing. Wow, just wow. Ninie, you take all the time you need to finish this book. The excerpt I just read astounded me with tastes, smells, sounds and a seriously racing pulse. I already fear what will happen to Theresa now that Whitworth has targeted her. Your prowess as an author is already well established, this series may catapult you into another stratosphere altogether. Write on!   Reply

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Lynn Geth April 22, 2016, 2:10AM

OMG Ninie, this second book is a winner already. I was about to go to bed but decided to read this excerpt "just for a minute" and then couldn't stop reading. I was mesmerized by your descriptions in the scene. Poor Theresa....she'll be blamed for the Cohens' death! I didn't see that coming. I can't wait until June 1st when I can buy the book and read the whole thing. You are amazing!! (Meanwhile, I hope I can sleep tonight.)   Reply

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Patty April 22, 2016, 3:08AM

You did it again Ninie. Just one small part of the bigger picture and I'm hooked. Can't wait for part 2 to be done.
You really do "Set Pages on Fire".   Reply

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Mary Ellen Garza April 22, 2016, 3:13AM

OMG, this is a fantastic story !! I can't hardly wait for the release !!   Reply

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Karen Pillay April 22, 2016, 8:12AM

Gee whiz- here's a hot tip. Don't read this at night just before you go to sleep- because YOU WONT! Wow Ninie. Just, WOW!! You did good!! Wow. Sorry, but I'm out of superlatives and expressions of exclamation. This is *really* good. Bring it on. :)   Reply

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Susan Sparks April 22, 2016, 9:31AM

wow!! amazing. I want to keep reading. can't wait for it to come out....


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Sharon Leidall April 22, 2016, 11:44AM

OhmygoshOhmygoshOhmygoshOhmygosh.....okayokay...okay...Okay. Probably not the most intelligent comment. But that's all my mind seems able to say right now. Maybe later, after I read it again....which I will do later....I can make a thoughtful remark. I cannot wait to read the rest!    Reply

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Rose Leatherman April 22, 2016, 4:00PM

Can't wait to read the rest of the book.   Reply

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Jane Clausen April 22, 2016, 6:23PM

Thank you so much for including me on this second sample! I was all ready to spend the rest of the afternoon with Theresa, find out what has happened to Biscuit, et al, but no, not yet. That's ok, I'm a rather patient person. Carry on Ninie, this is excellent!   Reply

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JoAnn Pine April 22, 2016, 7:24PM

I haven't even finished book one, and I'm salivating already for book two. Thanks for the tempting taste.   Reply

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Donna Wentzel April 22, 2016, 8:39PM

The only bad thing about the second book is the fact I will , most likely,stay up all night to read it in one sitting!! Then I will have to impatiently wait for the third book to become available.....what a dilemma. There is just one thing I noticed right away, however. Instead of my alarm bells going "ding,ding.ding" I'm afraid, under the circumstances, my bells would have been tolling.Bong,Bong,Bong! Absolutely can't wait until I can read the entire story!   Reply

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Jane Hewitt April 22, 2016, 9:00PM

How cruel you are Ninie to give us that juicy morsel and then tell us we have to wait for the rest. I can't wait to read the whole book. Write fast!   Reply

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Tracey Herber April 22, 2016, 10:23PM

This excerpt is amazing! Such a teaser. I can't wait to read the entire story. I love your descriptions and the way your characters' thoughts come out. I rate you as one of the greatest writers in thrillers and have recommended your books to many!! Thank you!!   Reply

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Peggy Gray April 22, 2016, 11:55PM

Wow! Thanks for the sneak peek! It was amazing! Can't wait till June to read the rest!   Reply

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Elaine Kirchner April 22, 2016, 12:54AM

Intense!   Reply

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Shirley April 23, 2016, 3:57PM

All I can say is WOW! Thank you so much for giving us this little taste, Ninie! What an appetizer, can't wait for the main course!   Reply

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Virginia April 23, 2016, 6:43PM

Love it!! Can't wait to read the whole book!!!   Reply

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Renee Hammond April 24, 2016, 9:56AM

I am scared of you!! Don't know if my heart can get through reading parts. I used to read Stephen King books by reading the end FIRST to be sure I'd get through it - but, what am I gonna do with this???   Reply

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Phyllis April 26, 2016, 3:11AM

I don't believe that reading your books is in my best interest! By the time I was halfway through the excerpt my breathing was shallow, my heart was pounding, and every muscle in my body was tense! Gracious sakes, girl! What goes on in that red head of yours???
Sheesh! I was sitting here mumbling "Copper pennies, you're smelling pennies... It's BLOOD, get out of there!!!" But by then she hit the slick spot...

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JoAnn Lynch April 26, 2016, 2:14PM

Wonderful, just wonderful! I can hardly wait for June now. Thanks for the preview!   Reply

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Julie Landis April 26, 2016, 7:21PM

Awesome beginning to another suspense filled reading. Hurry and finish so I can find out what's next!!!!!   Reply

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Beth May 1, 2016, 7:15PM

I can't wait for the next book to come out. I love your books, my family knows to not bother me when I start one. I try to read slow and savor the book, I just can't. You keep me entranced from the first page to the last.    Reply

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Vickie Bolton May 1, 2016, 9:44PM

Ninie at her very best! Can't wait to read more!   Reply

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Bob Young June 22, 2016, 2:57AM

Oh my goodness...and with that reading, I am completely, totally hooked. You've done it again. What a great start. Now I'm looking forward to the book with great anticipation. Thanks...   Reply

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Cheri July 5, 2016, 7:53PM

Just now finished The Knowing. Each character, demons included, comes bursting off the pages- loving some & hating others. This brief look at what I know to be The Descending will surely surpass my expectations as The Knowing is just that GREAT!

Nine, keep up the fantastic progress you've made as an author. I'm looking forward to reading all that follows. Thank you.   Reply

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Linda Scholz October 18, 2016, 5:35PM

Read books one and two - WHEN IS THREE GOING TO BE RELEASED?!?!? I can't find anything about it anywhere on the internet....   Reply

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"Oh, and about the 9 and the e beside my name. Say it fast, emphasis on the 9. That’s how you pronounce my first name -9e. (Think “rhymes with tiny and shiny, NOT with skinny and penny.”)

Suspense Author

I have soooo many stories I want to tell you, so many worlds I want you to see, so many people I want you to meet. People in trouble, most of them. Big trouble they didn't ask for but there it is. Ordinary folks like you and me who are forced by circumstances to fight for their lives. And then, smack in the middle of their everyday worlds they encounter the unexplainable. It's always the game-changer.

Welcome to my world. If you'd like to know more about me, I'm easy. Click on Meet Ninie and you'll see. My life isn't really an open book; it's more of a pamphlet, and you are cordially invited to read it. I'd love to interact with you on Twitter, Facebook Fan page, and Goodreads. Or come visit with me at 9e's Kitchen Table, a Facebook group where readers and I hang out. I think you'd like it.