The Demon Within
The Last War, #1
by
Josh Gagnier
Date of
Publication: February 2015
Genre: Urban
Fantasy
Paradise
or The Abyss, you decide
BLURB
Joe grew up listening to the voice in his
head. It helped him through school, helped him gain wealth in his career.
The final temptation of power was too much.
He hadn't considered the cost.
Now he must find a way to defeat The Demon
Within.
Little does he know, his every move is being
recorded. Every misstep is being judged. As he gets ever closer to winning over
his demon, heavenly eyes watch from above. Some root for his success while
others hope he'll fail.
While Joe fights his demon on the battlefront,
the angel Michael fights for his Soul.
Will Joe win out?
Will Michael be able to save Joe's soul?
Or will the Demon win and thrust Joe into the
Abyss.
Buy Link:
Amazon
Excerpt:
“You must be new to
these parts. Name’s Belath,” says a figure standing over a young man
lying against a large trash compactor. A look toward the sound of the
voice reveals what appears to be an older man who, by the looks of him, has
had, to put it lightly, a less than spoiled life. His dark skin is loose
with an almost leathery roughness, like a stretched hide left in the sun too
long. Several of his teeth have long escaped the captivity of his smile
and those left plot against the warden. The lines of time can be seen
through his mostly grey with spattered black scruff. His posture is the
only thing that doesn’t match his rundown appearance. He stands straight
and proud holding his shoulders square, almost in a protest, refusing to look
weak. He bears the righteous indignation of an innocent man facing the
gallows.
“Just passing
through,” replies a shaky voice trying to sound formidable. A young man,
thin, but seemingly fed well enough, slowly stands and dusts himself off.
His posture seems closer to a beaten animal than a grown man. His boots
are scuffed and old, but the heel gives him a few inches in height, which is
probably why he wears them. His knuckles are cracked and healing; more
likely from the heat than any type of hard labor. The dark circles under
his eyes and his unkempt appearance hint that he hasn’t slept an entire night
in years. His jacket makes him appear even smaller, as it is a few sizes
too big and has small rips that don’t appear to be from wear and tear. He
probably fished it from a dumpster. His jeans seem to be the least worn
of the man. Though dirty, they're nearly new. This poor sap doesn’t
look like he could fight his way through a paper bag. The only things
that don’t match his overall demeanor are his eyes. Visibly swimming
between pale yellow and bright green, they draw you in and make you trust him.
“Well, ya may want to
make yourself scarce before patrols make their rounds. They let me stay
because I’m the only one within a few hundred miles with a distiller. I
can’t guarantee they won’t haul you off to camp,” Belath warns. “What’s your
name son?”
“Don’t want to know
you. I’m not your son and I’m not staying. Just need a little
rest,” replies the young man. He pulls his hood over his head and turns
to walk down the alley toward the main street.
If he were watching
where he was going instead of ignoring the world around him, he would seen the
group of four large men, obviously armed, moving quickly toward him. He
would have heard Belath’s warning, and wouldn’t have cost himself such precious
time. Belath reached him just in time to be added as a target. The
young man realized what was happening a moment too late. A fist hit him
square in the side of the head, knocking him to one knee. Belath runs to
his side and helps him to his feet. The men must have recognized Belath
because three of them took a few steps back. Even the big one, the
apparent the leader, took a hesitant step backward. They must have
decided they had the advantage because they began to advance yet again.
“Gentlemen, do not
ring a bell you can’t unring,” says a stern, direct voice. It came from
the young man who, only moments earlier, seemed too weak to speak. “This
is a fight you will not win, regardless of your numbers,” the young man
continues.
In response, the
leader grabs a bat from one of his men and swings at the young man’s
head. Before anyone can realize what is happening, the young man lunges
at the leader. In one motion, he sidesteps the life ending swing, pulls a
long black knife from a sheath under his jacket, and plunges it deep into the
leader’s temple with his right hand while grabbing the bat from the ground with
his left. With his next step, he swings the bat at his second target, and
finds such purchase the man’s head nearly spins backward. Next, the young
man yanks the blade from the leader’s head and stabs the third man in the side
of the neck, almost as a cobra striking its prey. The young man looks for
the last of his adversaries, and sees him running down the alley toward the
main streets. The young man takes a deep breath, lifts the bat, takes
aim, and hurls it at his target. The bat’s aim is precise and the man
falls to the ground, screaming in pain. As the young man calmly walks toward
his now-felled enemy, he cleans the blood off of his knife on his pant leg, and
puts it away with such dexterity it can’t be known exactly where the sheath is
hidden.
“Today you benefit
from being last, sir,” says the young man as he sits on the ground by the last
man’s head. “Enough whimpering! You merely broke your ankle on my bat. I
have no desire to take your life,” he says as he pulls out a cigarette and
lights it. “You will do something for me. To that end, I spare you life.”
His voice is calm yet direct, “You will tell whomever you work for it was
Jekyll who reduced these men to corpses. You will tell him this and,” he
takes a long, slow drag of his cigarette, and continues, “you will tell them
this, and you will tell them, they do not wish to meet Hyde. Do we have a
deal?” the last being more statement than question.
The man, believing he
is being played, but not wanting to die, gives an exaggerated nod. The
young man stands and begins walking back to where he had been resting and calls
out over his shoulder.
“Belath, I guess I’ll be staying a while
longer,” once again speaking in the same shaky voice he had spoken with earlier.
Buy Link: Amazon
Author
Info
Josh has
had a knack for writing from a young age; mostly poetry. The Demon Within
is his debut novel and, according to Josh, nearly wrote itself. He is a
US Army veteran and has been deployed to the Balkans and Middle East. He
has been an IT professional for about a decade.
Many of
the events in The Demon Within were taken from Josh's life and "put
through the fiction blender" as he puts it. When pressed for more
details, he said he couldn't give specifics for fear of "giving
spoilers," but, he did say the book includes fictional spins on things
ranging from childhood bullying to being placed in the Las Vegas foster care
system.
He
currently lives in Columbus OH with his family and is working on book two of
his 'The Last War' series.
The Book Junkie Reads . . . Interview
with Josh Gagnier . . .
How would you describe your style of writing to someone
that has never read your work?
I would probably say it’s a roller coaster. There is no padding. If the details are in the book, they are needed.
I would probably say it’s a roller coaster. There is no padding. If the details are in the book, they are needed.
I have ADHD, so it takes a lot for a book to hold my attention. I wrote this book as if it were a movie I’d love to watch.
What are some of your writing/publishing goals for this
year?
Book 2 should be ready for my editor by next March/April. Unfortunately, the title would be spoiler for The Demon Within.
I’ve also been toying with the idea of solo books for primary/secondary characters from this series.
Book 2 should be ready for my editor by next March/April. Unfortunately, the title would be spoiler for The Demon Within.
I’ve also been toying with the idea of solo books for primary/secondary characters from this series.
Do you feel that writing is an ingrained process or just
something that flows naturally for you?
The Demon Within took about two months to write. Those two months were spanned over about two years. I don’t force it, but when the writing hits, it hits big. For example, I’d go six months without writing, only to finish 10K words on a Saturday binge writing session.
If it doesn’t flow, it doesn’t fit right.
The Demon Within took about two months to write. Those two months were spanned over about two years. I don’t force it, but when the writing hits, it hits big. For example, I’d go six months without writing, only to finish 10K words on a Saturday binge writing session.
If it doesn’t flow, it doesn’t fit right.
Where would you spend one full year, if you could go
anywhere? What would you do with this time?
If I could go anywhere, and be safe – I’d go to Mars. Then again, the solitude would probably drive me batty.
If I could go anywhere, and be safe – I’d go to Mars. Then again, the solitude would probably drive me batty.
Or, perhaps, a sailboat with a crew and I’d write letters as if I were an old merchant ship captain.
Can you share you next creative project(s)? If yes, can
you give a few details?
I am working on book 2 of this series.
It is going to be more thrilling than the first – and that’s a hard task to say the least.
I am working on book 2 of this series.
It is going to be more thrilling than the first – and that’s a hard task to say the least.
The first chapter of book 2 is at the end of The Demon Within.
Many of the same characters, with different (harder) struggles and much greater victories.
Author
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