Ninie Hammon’s Blog for Readers

Sneak Preview Chapter of THE KNOWING, Book One

Posted: April 3, 2015, 2:00PM




         When I wrote this blog post, I was sharing an excerpt from an UNPUBLISHED book. The book was published Nov. 14, so this excerpt no longer qualifies for "unpublished" status. Authors constantly change what they're working on. We edit, re-write and rearrange text, shining and polishing it for publication. That's a process that continues right up until we hit "send" to the publisher. The following excerpt has been updated to reflect the changes made in the book.

You only need a little set-up so what you’re about to read will make sense.

The three books of The Knowing are based on a single premise:
If there’s any truth at all in ancient Scripture, we live on a battlefield and spiritual warfare
is going on around us all the time. Demons and angels—locked in combat. Of course, we can’t see those battles. At least most of us can’t. But there are some who can, a few who … know.




     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 ONE

                                      By Ninie Hammon 
                                            Chapter 1

     When the first morning bell at Carlisle Elementary School rang, Bishop Washington near jumped out of his skin. That thing always startled him. You’d think after all these years as a school custodian, his body’d get accustomed to it, but it never did. Then he chuckled. The scurry of them little footsteps trying to get into they rooms before that bell always put Bishop in mind of creek water tumbling over rocks, singing its song. A creek’d talk to you if you had ears to hear, sing to you, too. Lullabies to lull you to sleep, carried on the night breeze with the smell of black mud and dead crawdads and the privy in the back yard.

     Bishop opened the door of the storage room in the north hallway and eased his six-foot, seven-inch, three-hundred-fifty pound bulk down on one knee to fasten the wide dust mop head to the long pole. Had to get the hallway cleaned while children were in class and the hall was empty.

     The school was shaped like the letter U, with north and south hallways connected on the east end by the administration wing, with the office of the principal, Mrs. Maxwell, and the lounges, secretaries’ offices and such.

     He heard adult footsteps behind him and was about to turn around and ask Mr. Masterson if—

     Just a glimpse of the shadow, and the familiar terror stabbed into Bishop’s belly. He stayed right where he was, bent over with his back turned until it passed. Bishop didn’t have to see it to know what it looked like. A thick cloud, dark as tar, all around somebody’s head, with tangled tendrils of black dangling from it all the way to the ground, like seaweed rotting on the beach, or the tentacles of some monstrous space alien.

     Cold hit Bishop all at once when the thing was right behind him, felt like it did when he sneaked into the kitchen in the middle of the night, looking to snatch a bowl of ice cream when Theresa wasn’t there to grouse at him about his cholesterol. But colder than standing in front of the open freezer door, painful cold, cold that hurt your skin when it touched, so cold it burned.

     The cold paralyzed him and he stayed down on one knee, gasping, his breath frosting in front of him, unable to think.

     One heartbeat. Two. Then Bishop drew a breath and inhaled the strong odor of Pine Sol and dust and chalk. He shook his head fiercely to clear it and looked after the figure striding down the center of the hallway. Through the black fog that surrounded the man, Bishop could see that he was chubby, wearing a sweatshirt and ball cap, carrying a big leather case with a My Little Pony sticker on the side—an instrument case, maybe.

     Bishop looked down the hallway to the back door where the man had come in. The door would only open from the inside, so how’d the guy—Bishop froze again, this time in horror. The doors wouldn’t open from the inside or the outside now. Chains and a padlock fastened the bars on the doors securely closed.

The man in the sweatshirt stopped at the intersection of the north hallway and the administration hallway, set the case on the floor and opened it. Bishop didn’t wait to see what was inside. He had to get to a classroom. Any classroom.

     With only a glance at the man, who appeared to be strapping some kind of belt around his waist, Bishop stood and began to push his mop slowly down the hallway toward the back door. Even with the hair on the back of his neck prickling and his heart clacking away in his chest, he managed to whistle.

     Oh, Suzanna, don’t you cry for me…

     Involuntarily cringing away from a bullet he feared any minute would rip into his back, Bishop casually leaned the mop handle against the wall and opened the door to Erika Lund’s fifth-grade classroom.

     The teacher’s aide, Mary Waznuski, smiled pleasantly when he stepped into the classroom. A short, sturdy woman, she radiated grandmother-ness. The teacher, Miss Lund looked up inquisitively, obviously annoyed. It was only her second year teaching, so she’d adopted a stern, no-nonsense exterior to cover her lack of confidence and experience—and the fact that she looked too young to be anybody’s teacher.

     “Hi, Mr. Washington,” said Andi Burke. She peeked at him out of the storage closet behind the door where she stood holding an unopened packet of No. 2 lead pencils. “I didn’t see Miss Theresa out front this morning. She’s not sick is—?”

     “Miranda, you didn’t raise your hand for permission to speak. You know—”

     Bishop crossed the distance between him and the young teacher in two strides, leaned close and whispered two harsh words. “Code Red!”

     The color drained out of Miss Lund’s face so quickly and completely that the veins in her temples suddenly appeared like streaks of blue Magic Marker. Her pale gray eyes pleaded with Bishop to tell her it wasn’t so.

     “Lock the door,” he said, then turned to the inter-classroom intercom on the wall behind the desk, reached out and held down the button. “Code Red!” he shouted into it. “I repeat, Code R—”

     Gunshots rattled in the hallway outside, like microwave popcorn with the volume turned all the way up, and there was a crashing sound of breaking glass accompanied by high-pitched, maniacal laughter.

     The trophy cases.

     Go on ahead, shoot them trophies, kill every last one of them and give us a few more seconds to lock these children in here safe.


     Police Sergeant Jack Carpenter was running long before he had time to will his legs to pick him up out of the chair behind his desk. So were all the other officers. The squad room of the Harrelton, Ohio, Metro Police Station emptied in less than thirty seconds. Every officer rolled on pure instinct when the hot call came over the radio, the six words every police officer prays he will never hear: “Active Shooter at Carlisle Elementary School.”

     The chief, the captain, the major, all the patrol officers responded—so would officers from other agencies, other nearby jurisdictions, but when they got to the scene, rank wouldn’t matter, Jack would be in charge. He was the point man on the department’s SWAT team and the tactical training officer for the whole state of Ohio. He was also the only man in the department other than the major who’d ever been shot at.

     Jack squalled out of the police department parking lot in front of the others—Code Three, lights and siren. The wail of sirens rose in a symphony that curdled the crisp, jasmine-scented air. The school was only a couple of miles away. Half a block out from it, Jack careened his cruiser around the final corner and flipped the catch on his seat belt. As he pulled into the school parking lot, he hit the trunk release. It wouldn’t open until the car was in park, but flipping the catch now was a second saved. Seconds mattered. He whipped the car so that it slid sideways toward the curb like a slalom skier stopping at the bottom of a hill—passenger side toward the building. He slammed the car into park with one hand and unclipped his M4 patrol rifle from the ceiling rack with the other and was out of the car in a crouch, scrambling toward the trunk in less than three seconds. It opened as he got there, and he snatched out his tactical vest. That had been a judgment call. He could have shaved off another couple of seconds by leaving it, but roll into the building without it and he had twenty-eight rounds of ammo. There were a hundred and fifty rounds in the vest.

     Other officers were arriving now. He pointed to two from his department, “Paco” Ramirez and Sam Peterson, and a gray-uniformed Ohio State Police Trooper.

     “You, you, you—with me, contact team.”

     They didn’t have to be told what that meant. Cross-training of officers from all jurisdictions ensured that everybody was playing from the same sheet of music. First four officers on the scene—no matter who they were—formed the contact team. Their job was to follow the sound of gunfire and make contact with the shooter. If that meant they had to step over the bodies of bleeding and dying children in that single-minded pursuit, they had to be prepared to do just that. The next four officers would be dispatched as a search and rescue team—unless shots were still being fired, in which case they’d form a second contact team. Contact teams would continue to form until the gunfire ceased.

     The role of every contact team was the same. Jack Carpenter had only one job: find the shooter; take him out.

                                                            * * * * * * *

     Bishop was proud of Erika Lund. The fragile little blonde girl—woman, she was a woman—musta had a stainless steel rod ’tatched to her backbone. She leapt to the door, rotated the knob that slid the deadbolt into place and grabbed the piece of green construction paper conveniently stabbed to the cork board beside the door. The paper was pinned next to a piece of red paper and both already had pieces of tape stuck to them, sticky-side out. She whirled and taped the green paper over the small window in the door.

     The piece of construction paper wasn’t there by accident. Neither was the one on the window sill that Mrs. Waznuski hurriedly leaned against the glass. Every classroom was required to have both colors accessible near doors and windows at all times. Green paper would later tell police clearing the building that there were no casualties in the room. Red indicated injuries.

     Lord, please keep that paper green.

     The paper in place, Miss Lund turned to the children who had gone completely postal at the sound of the gunfire.

     “Did I give any of you permission to scream?” she roared, like that sergeant who’d had to whip a bunch of Kentucky farm boys into soldiers before they shipped out to Vietnam. “Stop it right now!”

     There was such an unaccustomed edge of menace in her voice, the children were shocked into momentary silence. While she had their attention, she continued, not comforting or soothing, merely matter-of-fact.

     “We’re safe. The door’s locked and I…” she stepped to the desk, reached behind it and picked up her purse off the floor. The children held their breaths as she rummaged around in it until she found what she was looking for. “…I have the only key.” Which technically wasn’t true, of course, but it would do for now.

     She held up a big gold door key on her key ring like it was a light saber from one of them Star Wars movies. Bishop could see that her hands were shaking, but the kids didn’t seem to notice.

     “Is he gonna shoot us?” cried a chubby girl whose cheeks were slathered with tears. “I seen on TV where a man went into a school and shot the children. I don’t wanna die.”

     Hysteria threatened to wash over the classroom again.

     “Ain’t none of you kids gone do no dying in this here room today,” Bishop said. He had a deep, rumbling voice to match his huge stature but he always spoke quietly to children, as gentle as a fairytale teddy bear. He let the kids hear the steel in his voice now, though. His skin was as black as a crow’s feather, but the hair that encircled his head, leaving a perfectly bare spot on top, wasn’t cottony white. It had somehow got a touch of yellow in it. Theresa said it looked like popcorn.

     There was another volley of gunfire outside in the hallway, and the sound of more glass breaking, and more crazy laughter. The children squeaked and whimpered in fear, but nobody screamed this time.

     The crazy fool was taking out the trophy cases and the pictures of former principals and teachers that lined the walls. Then there was a pause between volleys, and Bishop heard it.

     “You all hear that?” he asked. The warbling wail of a whole herd of sirens grew louder by the second. “In a couple of minutes, this place gone be plum broke out with policemen.”

     They just had to stay alive until help arrived.

     “Here’s what we gone do,” he said, and glanced at Miss Lund to be sure she approved. She was holding it together real well but she didn’t appear to be in any condition to execute any safety strategies. Mrs. Waznuski, a small woman with hair the color of snow-laden clouds, only worked half days, three days a week. Bishop hardly knew her, but it was clear she was as frightened as the children. “We’re all gonna huddle together in that corner over there.” It was against the wall, as far as possible from the door. “And we’re gone turn over these desks and stack ‘em up in front of us, make a fort like.”

     Bishop had no idea if that was the right thing to do or not. Maybe they should try to get the children out a window instead. But this was an old building with windows that opened wide at the top and about a foot or so at the bottom. To get the children out them, he’d have to break the glass—if he could locate something to break it out with—and then there’d be jagged glass everywhere. More important, Bishop figured it was safest not to call attention to themselves, which breaking out windows certainly would.

     Besides, Bishop had seen only the one man, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others—outside maybe. Bishop’s money was on staying in this hidey hole until the police showed up to blast what was out there in the hallway all the way back to hell. The safest place was right here where they had a locked door between them and the crazy man in the hall.

     The children instinctively understood the need to be as quiet as possible as they hauled desks to the back of the room, picked them up—two kids to a desk—instead of dragging them. The sound of gunfire outside covered the sounds they did make as they piled the desks in a heap on top of each other. Then the children crawled in among the desks, burrowing themselves to safety.

     It grew silent. The rat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire outside had ceased. Maybe the guy had left. Maybe—

     In the hallway outside the classroom next door—the one that was locked up because they’d done touch-up painting in there before school this morning—he heard a cannon roar. That boom wasn’t no automatic rifle. That was a shotgun.

     Then another boom roared.

     On one knee in front of the pile of desks, Bishop felt the pit of his stomach drop into his shoes, and turned as if in slow motion to look at the heavy wooden door. At the lock on the door. He held his breath. Time froze. Then there was another boom right outside in the hall and the wood around the lock on the door shattered and splintered. The children huddled together in the tangle of desks in the corner began to shriek and there was no calming them this time. One more boom and a hole showed in the door where the lock had been, leaving shards of wood and sawdust floating in the air. A hand reached in through the splintered hole, grasped the door, shoved it inward and the man in a sweatshirt and baseball cap picked his way almost daintily over the rubble of shattered wood in the doorway and stepped into the room.                                                       

     Cold flowed into the classroom, along with the man in the Cincinnati Reds hat who entered, an automatic rifle of some kind slung over his shoulder on a strap and a shotgun with a sawed-off barrel in his hands. Felt like the door’d been opened to an Arctic breeze that only Bishop could feel. The man himself looked as harmless as the driver of one of them ice cream trucks that played music so loud the kids could hear it coming a couple of blocks away and had time to pester their mamas for a dollar. Or would have, if not for his eyes, open so wide no eye lids showed at all, wild, crazed eyes. He has wispy blond hair sticking out from under the cap, fat cheeks—rosy cheeks—and a puckery little mouth where the top lip came to an owl’s beak point and the pendulous bottom lip stuck out and down, like he was pouting.

      The lip. A memory elbowed its way past Bishop’s fear and stood defiant in the forefront of his mind. Bishop Washington never forgot a face.

      The scrawny kid who’d played second base on the Little League All Star team Bishop coached years ago had had a lip like that. What was his name? Jake. Jacob. Jacob Dumas. Bishop stared into the placid face of the shooter, looking for the little boy he might once have been. Like the reverse of age-enhanced pictures of kidnapped children on milk cartons, the little boy’s face appeared as an overlay on the man’s. It was Jacob Dumas all right.

     And that meant… No, Bishop shoved the thought away before he even had a chance to think it. No! It couldn’t possibly be…

     Dumas was smiling. The thing that materialized on his shoulders was not. As Bishop watched in revulsion, the black fog around the man’s head transformed into a swarm of yellow-jacket wasps with elongated stingers like syringes. He could hear the hum of them, the sound of thousands of black flies with green bellies, the fat kind that made a big splat mark on the wall when you swatted them. The buzzing put him in mind of the time when he was eight that he’d come accidental upon the carcass of a recently dead deer in the woods and the stench’d made him chuck up his breakfast.

     Then the swarm of wasps began to morph into a shape crouched on the man’s shoulders. The shape became more and more solid until a thing emerged from the black swirling mass of wasps, a hideous creature with skin as alive as squirming maggots. It was roughly the shape of a deformed rat, with a long, spiked tail that hung halfway down the man’s back—twitching restlessly back and forth—and claws as sharp as filleting knives. Jagged fangs that looked like shards of broken glass protruded from the maw at the bottom of a nose-less face. They dripped sticky strands of green drool down the side of Dumas’s cap, where it clotted into a single stream that began to ooze down his cheek. The mouth at the bottom of the writhing-wasp face had too many teeth, blackened spikes curved inward so if it bit you, there’d be no hope of ever pulling free. It had eyes, too, pale yellow, the color of pus, with bright red centers.

     Recognition slammed into Bishop’s chest with the force of a wrecking ball. He’d seen those eyes before, too.

     The eyes slowly surveyed the room until they landed on Bishop and locked there. The creature studied him, leaning its head to the side as it confirmed his identity. When it spoke, the voice was the sound of old, rusty chains dragged over a metal floor.

     “The three who stood with the light,” the voice growled, “I want them.” The motion of speaking disturbed some of the wasps that formed its shape and for a moment the top of its hoary head disintegrated. Then, just as quickly, it reformed. “You know who they are. Where’s Becca?”

     Understanding dropped with the weight of a bowling ball deep into the pit of Bishop’s belly.

     It’s come back. After all these years, it’s got loose somehow and come back!

     Bishop would have sworn it was impossible to be any more afraid than he already was. But now that he knew what the creature was, why it had come, what it wanted, a new terror clamped his heart in a vise. Then the monster laughed, the single, most horrible sound Bishop had ever heard. Like the roar of an avalanche that tapered off into the high-pitched wail of a hyena.

     “Tell me, or the children die,” the creature said through its laughter. “One by one, they all die.”

     “You there, old man,” Dumas said to Bishop, “pull down the shades. Don’t want peeping Toms prying into our business.”

     Bishop had recognized Dumas, but apparently the shooter hadn’t recognized Bishop, though that crazy fool didn’t look like he could recognize his own mother right now. Bishop did as he was told, got up from where he was kneeling and went from one window to the next, lowering the shades. He moved the piece of green construction paper out of the way, knew that the lowered shades and no colored paper would tell police the folks inside were in real trouble.

     “So kiddies,” said the man, his voice cheery, “who wants to be the first one to die? Any volunteers?”

     Some of the children were crying softly, but most were merely whimpering, far too frightened to cry.

     “Come on out of there, all of you.” He reached out with his free hand and picked up one of the overturned desks and pitched it over his shoulder as effortlessly as tossing away an apple peel. It banged heavily against the wall beneath the windows.

     “Bunch up here in front of me.”

     He spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, not threatening, more like the basketball coach telling the kids to line up so he could pick out who had to do laps around the gym.

     “I won’t shoot all of you, Scouts’ honor. I want some of you to live the rest of your lives remembering our special day together.” He made the high-pitched sound he’d made out in the hallway, a sound too corrupted to be called laughter.

     Then he casually swung the barrel of the shotgun around toward Erika Lund, who was trying unsuccessfully to position herself between him and the children as they crawled out of the tumble of desks in the back corner. He wiggled his finger at her. She looked quizzical. He wiggled it again and she tentatively approached him.

     “On your knees,” he said. She hesitated for a beat, then straightened her back and dropped to her knees on his left, between him and the back of the room. He held out the rifle an inch in front of her nose.

     The creature on Dumas’s shoulders fixed its swarming eyes on Bishop.

     “Tell me where to find the one who stood with The Light!” the creature rumbled.

     “’Fraid I can’t do that.” Bishop’s voice didn’t have no volume, was so soft maybe only the creature heard. He had to suck in another breath to continue, to tell the creature he didn’t have no idea where Becca was. He didn’t have a chance to say nothing, though, before the creature on the gunman’s shoulder lifted a paw where a vicious claw longer than the others extended from the middle finger. In a slow, lazy motion, it began to shove the claw downward into Jacob Dumas’s skull.

     Bishop watched Dumas tense. The creature paused, looked a question at Bishop without speaking. The young, blonde teacher who had signed on the loan for her first house only two days ago, who had a mother with Alzheimer’s in Omaha, papers to grade in her desk, and the only key to this room safe and snug in her purse was seconds away from instant death.

     But Bishop didn’t know where Becca was. What could he do if he didn’t know?




Lori Smith April 6, 2015, 9:27AM

Ok, I'm hooked, lol. I'll be waiting, impatiently, for the book! Thanks for teaser, it's as we awesome!   Reply

Replies (1)

Pamela Amato April 6, 2015, 10:19AM

The beginning is interesting. It succeded in making my heart race and my mind trying to find a way help the teacher janitor and children.
I'm not too sure about the ability of the book to hold my attention the whole way through - let alone for three books. But, it's grabbed me enough to look forward to another chapter.    Reply

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Edna Kelly April 6, 2015, 10:45AM

Oh, wow! I hope this gets released during a week when I don't have to be anywhere or do anything. I can already see that it will be an all-nighter!   Reply

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Terry Mengle April 6, 2015, 10:50AM

Intense. It will be a good book. Can't wait to read it. You really set the hook!   Reply

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Cecil Harper April 6, 2015, 11:15AM

Great....Thank You!!!!!   Reply

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Linda Williams April 6, 2015, 11:24AM

Ninie Hammon , you do know your subject matter...I can smell the school, the classroom, the fear. I can hear the small whimpering sounds of the children, the outbreak of gun fire, the firm purposeful, duty filled voice of the teacher's aid.. I can see each character and feel their emotions, think their thoughts..
very intense preview. Thank you. I will be looking forward to what comes next as, I enjoy your writing and communications very much. LW

What and where is Verification number?   Reply

Replies (5)

Judy Buckler April 6, 2015, 12:39PM

Extremely intense and yet lyrical in the telling. The dialogue is so down-to-Earth, especially Bishop's. While reading this chapter, I was there. I felt like I was in that classroom and experiencing all of it in person. I am so looking forward to the book and the series release. There is a constant battle between good and evil and you have truly shown that in this first chapter. Thank you for breaking your rule and sharing this with all of us!!! You are absolutely amazing.    Reply

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Paula Mainhart April 6, 2015, 1:30PM

All I can say is WOW! Definitely sounds like a set of books I won't be able to put down until they are finished.   Reply

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Jaysie April 6, 2015, 1:56PM

Ninie. ...I'm squealing. ...not outside the kids would freak...but my insides are! !!! So excited to read this series! !!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!   Reply

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Netta April 6, 2015, 2:38PM

Reminds me of Stephen King! Can't wait to read the whole book. Thanks   Reply

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martha April 6, 2015, 2:47PM

wow! i want to keep reading it, please send more chapters!   Reply

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Wes April 6, 2015, 3:37PM

This is great!!!   Reply

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Renee April 6, 2015, 4:31PM

I went straight to Amazon to see if I could pre-order!
Am so hooked on what I've read so far...this is going to be like waiting for the Outlander Series to start again...
I just got over that - now I'll be watching for The Knowing!
I don't care what you decide to write - just please keep writing!!!
Hasn't Hollywood caught onto you yet??? Would love to see how they'd try to bring your books to film.....
r   Reply

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Elaine April 6, 2015, 6:01PM

Intriguing! Will be waiting to read this book!   Reply

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Stacy Cilas April 6, 2015, 7:31PM

I love it! I'll be anxiously awaiting the release of the series! Thank you for the preview. :)   Reply

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Tammi Lafleur April 6, 2015, 12:31AM

Grabbed me from the start and held me captive until the end! Waiting with bated breath for the trilogy.   Reply

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Mary Ellen Garza April 7, 2015, 3:19AM

This chapter of book 1 , The Knowing, is awesome because you have given each person character & wirh your ability to give us readers much action, intrigue & mystery.   Reply

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Robinn April 7, 2015, 3:57AM

Can't wait to read more!! Vivid description - it's almost like being there! I could visualize the whole thing. Looking forward to the book.    Reply

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tyna April 7, 2015, 11:03AM

It grabs you right from the start. I thought I was reading a Stephen King book. Can't wait to read the series.   Reply

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Dawn April 7, 2015, 10:52PM

This chapter you've so kindly let us read is amazing. It has so much happening in it I can't even imagine what the whole series will be like. I will be patiently awaiting the trilogy!!!

Dawn   Reply

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Norman Martin April 8, 2015, 6:03PM

Wow, I liked the chapter and attempted to give a somewhat detailed review, but somehow my code was rejected.
"Ye are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world." (I John 4:4 I hope your Christian characters are able to claim this verse.   Reply

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Rose April 10, 2015, 8:53PM

WOW and WOW Now I have something to look forward to in September! I loved this chapter and can't hardly wait to get my hands on that book. Thank you for sharing.   Reply

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Karen April 10, 2015, 12:22AM

No fair, Ninie! Making us wait months to see the rest!   Reply

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Kate Jude April 11, 2015, 11:05AM

Oh you can't leave us like this, it's so unfair. I want, no, need to know what happens next!

Can't wait until you have finished writing and we can get the book, HURRY UP!   Reply

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Beth April 13, 2015, 10:34PM

WOW!!!! I'm already hooked, I can't wait until September. Please, please, please share more.....    Reply

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Linda Dupree April 25, 2015, 5:28AM

What an incredibly heart stopping and intriguing chapter. I really like the premise and the description of a school shooting filled me with more horror than the demon(or whatever you call it,lol)itself. I really like Bishop but I'm sure now that I said that he's as good as dead, lol. I really can't wait until fall all of the sudden. Happy writing and may the light be with you.   Reply

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Linda Dupree April 25, 2015, 5:33AM

What an incredibly heart stopping and intriguing chapter. I really like the premise and the description of a school shooting filled me with more horror than the demon(or whatever you call it,lol)itself. I really like Bishop but I'm sure now that I said that he's as good as dead, lol. I really can't wait until fall all of the sudden. Happy writing and may the light be with you.   Reply

Replies (3)

Sue Ambrose May 23, 2015, 2:10AM

Okayyyyyyy, give me more, you have definitely got me hooked, can't wait to read more. Thank you so much for giving us this taster, will be looking forward to September to read the book.   Reply

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Shirley May 23, 2015, 10:41AM

Wow! What an intense peek! I'll be waiting for the series so I can "read myself scared"! You definitely have me hooked!   Reply

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Anna Rasmussen May 23, 2015, 2:03PM

Wow is RIGHT...this grabbed me and I could not read fast enough, felt like I was there in the classroom and got chills. Can't wait for the series. Thank you for the sneak preview. I will be first in line.   Reply

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Helen May 26, 2015, 5:52PM

Love it! This is great....but I don't think I can wait too long for the rest of it! When I got to the end of what you'd written I just thought "Noooooooooooo!!!!" More please!    Reply

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Terrie Guin May 26, 2015, 8:52PM

Thanks for giving me the first chapter of "The Knowing". It was so intense and descriptive! Can't wait for it to be available. Hope you won't make us wait long for you to release the other two books in the series.   Reply

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Sandra May 26, 2015, 10:00PM

What a wonderful talent you have to draw a picture with words that transports the reader into the book as a bystander seeing and feeling all the emotions drawn by your words. Thank you for "beaming" me up.   Reply

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Sophia May 26, 2015, 12:18AM

Wow......I'm not sure that I breathed the whole time I was reading. Anxiously waiting for the book...   Reply

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Sandy Falk May 27, 2015, 2:10AM

Love your attention to detail! My heart is breaking, surely the children will be spared ? ! ? Anytime time to wait is too long! Really looking forward to the rest of the novel.

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Kathy May 27, 2015, 5:44PM

The Knowing starts off with a bang! I can't wait to read more!   Reply

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Deb May 27, 2015, 11:51PM

Wow this book will keep you on the edge of your seat.......can't wait to read the entire thing.   Reply

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Carol May 30, 2015, 8:47PM

Wow, very intense.   Reply

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Judy May 30, 2015, 8:59PM

For sure I will be reading this new book the day it is released I hope it will be soon!!!!   Reply

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Kim May 31, 2015, 11:18AM

Sounds exciting... can't wait for this series to come out. Eagerly awaiting!   Reply

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Cathy June 1, 2015, 8:59AM

Reading your "teaser" made me think of Stephen King!Will look forward to the series!Five Days In May awesome book loved it!!! Thank you for the free download!!!!   Reply

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Beth Parcells June 3, 2015, 7:06PM

Simply said....I have a New favorite Storyteller!!! I have read every one of your books and.....this one will be eagerly waited for!!   Reply

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Marianne Byrum June 13, 2015, 7:49AM

So far, I've read The Memory Closet, and Five Days In May. I love your books! So looking forward to reading The Knowing Trilogy! Thank you!   Reply

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Kelly Koch June 27, 2015, 9:25PM

Goodness! Thank you for that holding of my breath! I love your work. Keep us posted. Great job.   Reply

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Urs! June 28, 2015, 12:50AM

Oh, yeah! I can't wait! This is going to be AWESOME! :D

Thanks so much for the sneak peek! You ROCK!


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Sandie Dragos June 29, 2015, 4:00PM

Cant wait for this to be released!!!    Reply

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dubbia June 29, 2015, 6:29PM

Thanks for sharing. Won't be reading this at bed time, but will be in line to purchase as soon as it is available. Love the mystery with just a hint of the paranormal. Totally believable stories that grip and carry the reader on a fabulous journey.   Reply

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Virginia July 1, 2015, 8:49PM

Oooooh. I KNEW I shouldn't have read it! Now, how am I supposed to wait several months for the book to be available?? Can't wait.    Reply

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Chris (aka Kotuku) July 2, 2015, 9:27PM

Excellent and makes me want to read more. Ninie has drawn the character of the cleaner exceptionally well both in the way he speaks (internal verbalising) to the way he reacts to the shooter. By his actions, denotes he is exceptional in many ways eg, gets to the classroom, doesn’t panic, gets the children organised forming a ‘fortress’! The sense of foreboding and of something supernatural happening, makes the story more than just a story about a school shooting and/or massacre.
Can't wait to read the books!   Reply

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Kimberly July 3, 2015, 7:26PM

Oh man, I'd be reading all day if this story was finished! Thanks for the teaser.    Reply

Replies (1) July 4, 2015, 11:11PM

sorry, I think there's too much violence in the world, and that this book has no reason or rhyme to glamorize it. Oh well better luck next time.74717   Reply

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Carl (The Old Man) July 31, 2015, 8:14AM

It took a lot for me to put aside "The Memory Closet" long enough to read this "teaser" (and that's what it is!) but I'm glad I did! It seems that every book I read of yours' is my new favorite, and it looks like this trilogy will be a REAL favorite! I always hate it when I have to say good-bye to the characters you create, but this time I'll be able to go on a real roller coaster ride! Can't wait, Ninie, can't wait!!!   Reply

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Wendy August 20, 2015, 9:03PM

Having been a secretary, I wanted to edit but then I became interested and din't care about that anymore.
Well done to set the scene and have the janitor calmly whisper "Code Red". When Stephenson blasted the door and entered, it became very intense especially with the description of the creature.

Hooked!   Reply

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Norman Martin August 25, 2015, 5:16PM

It is a Nine's book for sure. I like the chapter very much, however I don't usually like the forces of evil seen as stronger than the forces of good. I do know that with Nine good does somehow trump in the end.
I do think I've read this portion of the book before.    Reply

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Peggy Whitehead August 25, 2015, 7:56PM

Okay, I thought being a "Team 9e" member was going to be positive...sneak peeks & all...
However, its just teasing us! Maybe it's my lack of patience combined with an incredible & suspenseful read, but now we have to wait until Spring for more?
Ninie, can you write any faster? Please?
I wouldn't change anything, you definately had me hooked! No lie, I had actual goosebumps on my arms!
And for some who have said, they didn't like the book so far & consider it glamorizing violence since there's too much in the world, does ignorance & avoidance make it any less real?
This is a BOOK, an incredible work of fiction!
If you don't like it, then don't read it!
Ninie, keep 'em coming!   Reply

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Shelly September 2, 2015, 1:48PM

Nothing makes me sick quite like reading the news of a school shooting. Putting myself right in the middle of one was difficult - and that is right where I was when I read your excerpt. I love your books and the always present theme of love, sacrifice, and spiritual guidance. It is rare to find those elements in this genre. As much as this preview turned my stomach, I look forward to reading the book knowing that it will touch my heart.   Reply

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robert September 12, 2015, 10:54PM

I like it . I got to wait how long ? Well ok.   Reply

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cathy September 19, 2015, 7:35PM

loved the first chapter,can't wait to read more. you have talent keep writing   Reply

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Roberta September 20, 2015, 5:10PM

This is a great teaser. You made me feel the terror of the custodian as that beast passed behind him in the hallway. The theme of angels vs demons fighting over the world seems appropriate to me in light of all the evil we are seeing across the world. It seems it has a sort of end of times feel about it too. I can't wait to read the real thing when it is published.   Reply

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Wendy Mills September 28, 2015, 1:52PM

Oh my goodness. Its riveting. Can not wait to read this book.   Reply

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susie anderson October 1, 2015, 7:09PM

I am holding my breath! Intense and horrible and pulling me in at the same time. Please continue------------------------   Reply

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Renee Hammond October 1, 2015, 7:16PM

O My Lord!!! I don't know how I missed this before - thanks for adding the link. I am sitting here horrified and scared right along with everyone in that room! Now how do you expect us to put that on hold until...

I gotta go NOW and see what the second release says...   Reply

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Marilyn Wolfe October 1, 2015, 11:08PM

I'm hooked. It is fall. Where is the finished product? Absolutely love your writing.    Reply

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Charlene White October 5, 2015, 12:39AM

Awesome!!! Can't wait for the rest!   Reply

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Outdoorgal October 7, 2015, 5:50PM

Love the suspense. I thoroughly enjoy a book that you cannot put down. Want more.....   Reply

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Dez October 19, 2015, 8:54PM

This is great so far 9ie can't wait for more!   Reply

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Anne Marks October 23, 2015, 3:07PM

I am hooked already, roll on more   Reply

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Arlkarr October 23, 2015, 3:10PM

At first I thought it was going to be a spook book but that is not the case I will be waiting for the books to come out. You have sold me a book for sure.   Reply

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Debbie October 23, 2015, 9:55PM threw us right into this. Definitely got my attention. Your storytelling ability is amazing, I felt like I was right there. I am not good at waiting. Great start.   Reply

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Judy October 26, 2015, 9:40AM

This is like sniffing that new smell in a vehicle and then you're told the price! I want this now, lol!! This is definitely going to be a great book, Ninie, and have us in a state of suspense until you release it! Thank you for sharing.   Reply

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Linda October 30, 2015, 12:07PM

Absolutely terrifying!!! Whew, I can't wait to read the whole. It will definitely be too difficult to put this one down once I've started.   Reply

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Barbara Schick November 3, 2015, 6:47PM

I was going to pre-order it but Amazon doesn't list it. I figure November 14th it will be on there right? Thank you.   Reply

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Lynda November 15, 2015, 11:46PM

Very heart-stopping considering all the events we have had in this country. Hope the ending of the book/series is more hopeful.    Reply

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Denise Mavin November 18, 2015, 7:32AM

I am so looking forward to reading this book. This excerpt has me hooked.    Reply

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Wendy Williams March 14, 2016, 9:32PM

Don't usually get involved with authors, blogs, facebook, etc. I just love to read. Always have a book that I'm reading. After reading sneak preview book one of The KnowingI will be reading the series.


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Sherry Svec June 23, 2016, 4:42PM

Compelling. The characters you create have such depth, I feel I know them. Very much looking forward to the trilogy. If you have any need of another pair of eyes, keep me in mind. When I read a typo it's like walking down the street reading a book and not noticing a curb. I used to work in the editorial dept. of the local paper, it's strange that my duties never included editing.    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.