Fighting demons with faith, fury, and a side of ramen.
DEMONS & RAMEN, an addictive and humorous fast-paced, genre-blending adventure from A.M. Loweecey, is coming April 29th, and we have an exclusive excerpt!
Check out a Sneak Peek of Demons and Ramen Below!
Forty-five minutes after I entered the poltergeist-ridden house I drew a salt circle on the foyer’s parquet floor and placed candles in a triangle with me in the center.
“Mr. Eaton,” I called, “could you bring the older kids into the front hall?”
He went to the bottom step of the central staircase.
“Eliot! Elise! Please come downstairs.”
Clattering footsteps screeched to a halt when the kids saw me. Elise, fourteen and trying to look grown up. Eliot, gangly and clumsy at eleven and a half, thrilled to be able to watch me without sneaking around. Eliot thought exorcists were cool, so I got to see the secret “devil’s tattoo” on his butt when I visited the house last week. Stupid kid. Lucky he hadn’t gotten blood poisoning from his friend’s needle and homemade ink.
If the work of art was two inches higher it’d be a tramp stamp. Eliot and friend got hold of a pirated video of The Devil Rides Out—Satan and naked women: a preteen boy’s wet dream—and tried to copy Baphomet from the Hammer film’s opening credits image.
Some things can’t be unseen. Like a middle-schooler’s attempt at the man-goat. Schools should never cut art classes from the budget.
I lit the three candles and centered myself. Elise whispered something and her mother shushed her. Five-year-old Eleanore, the youngest, chattered with the cook in the kitchen.
The girls’ silver-white auras shone clear. Their parents’ were shot through with red fear and muddy greed, but those colors were nothing I hadn’t seen before. Eliot’s was mustard yellow and gray. The kid would need years of therapy if he could see the entity clinging to the ink on his butt cheek.
My eyes rolled back in my head. One of my smaller useful skills.
Mrs. Eaton’s nails scraped the banister.
Eliot muttered, “Cool!” and his father cuffed him.
A splash of true evil clung to Eliot. He hated their new house, was bullied at school; his soul was curdled with jealousy over his little sister. The kid had nursed it all in true “Poison Tree” fashion and scoured the Net until he made himself into a fine little pseudo-poltergeist.
I began the standard exorcism in a mix of Early Latin and Hebrew in case either of the adults had a classical education. At the same time, I reached out with my power to the kid’s tattoo and got the smoky scrap of demon in a death grip. It fizzled with a smell like a rotting opossum before I finished the second verse of Psalm 67.
A small part of my brain registered the gasps and gagging from the stairs. Good. I opened my hands and the stink dissipated. Then I drew a cross in the air and recited the appropriate prayer in regular Latin, so Mom and Dad Eaton might be able to understand it.
More gasps. I let my eyes slide back into position in time to see the blue-white image fade. I smelled sage and myrrh and winter air on mountains.
Eliot had puked all over himself. I pretended not to see it and met Mr. Eaton’s terrified eyes with a reassuring smile.
Mrs. Eaton clutched the kids to her, Eliot’s puke-stained shirt messing up her designer dress. Mr. Eaton sat on the bottom step. His wife and daughter started to cry. Eliot tried to rub his tattoo without his mother noticing, his face scrunched in pain.
“Ew!” Eleanore’s voice from the kitchen doorway broke up the tableau. “Who made poopy gas?”
"[...] a fun occult detective romp that will appeal to fans of John Constantine, Anita Blake and Harry Dresden."- Brian Keene, bestselling author of The Rising
Exorcism is easy. Living with loss is f*cking impossible.
Father Denis Kaine has spent his life-fighting demons, but nothing could prepare him for losing his twin brother, Xavier. When the Vatican declares Xavier's death a suicide, Denis knows better. Something made his brother pull the trigger. And he's gonna hunt it down.
Fueled by rage, whiskey, and a reckless disregard for his own survival, Denis scours the dark underbelly of Rome, exorcising every creature that slithers up from Hell to get in his way. But his search takes a dangerous turn when he stumbles upon a Vatican-sealed crypt and accidentally releases something far older, far more powerful than any demon he's ever faced.
She's not a ghost. She's not a demon. But she’s hungry, and she’s not leaving without raiding his fridge.
Now, exiled from the Church and stuck with a thousand year old roommate named Emma, Denis is forced into an uneasy alliance. If he wants to know the truth about Xavier's death, he'll need Emma’s help. Armed with a messenger bag full of holy water and their habit of making bad decisions, they dive into the darkest corners of faith, power, and the Vatican's buried secrets.
And something is watching. Hell isn't the only thing hunting him.
A darkly humorous journey through loss and the search for redemption.
Solve a mystery. Eat some Ramen.
Preorder today!
Amazon:
https://amzn.to/4i21INm
B&N, Apple, Kobo, Google Play, and more:
https://books2read.com/u/mgnvN0
About A.M. Loweecey
A.M. Loweecey, also known as Alice Loweecey, lives in New York with her dog Zeus, who firmly believes he’s the more photogenic half of the duo—and wishes A.M. would learn to dictate her stories so their walks could last longer. A lifelong fan of Hammer horror films and Scooby-Doo mysteries (which explains a lot), A.M. delights in scaring the pants off readers with nightmare-inducing horror and crafting humorous mysteries. When not tormenting characters or baking brownies, she can be found tending her garden in pursuit of the perfect tomato or growing water lilies in their koi pond. A.M. is the author of the Giulia Driscoll PI mystery series (9 books) and two stand-alone horrors, Staking Cinderella and The Redeemers, with several short stories appearing in anthologies.
Connect with A.M.
Website: aliceloweecey.net
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/alice.loweecey
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