Excerpts and Giveaway: Winter's Demon (Vesik, #3) by Eric R. Asher

Description  Book #1: Days Gone Bad

My name is Damian Valdis Vesik. I am a necromancer, an ability feared and hated as much as the powers my master and I set ourselves against. We've vanquished many evils, but now something is releasing an old darkness, forcing us to hunt an enemy beyond anything I’ve faced before. I was already busy enough with vampires, fairies, witches, Watchers, weddings, and … damn, I need a vacation.

Description Book #2: Wolves and River of Stone

Philip, Zola’s boyfriend from one hundred and fifty years ago, is not nearly as dead as we thought. I really wish he was. Not only has he kidnapped Zola, but he’s raising an army to scour humanity from the earth. Hopefully the local werewolf pack will help. What could possibly go wrong?

Description Book #3

Some things can never be undone. The horrors I've defeated—or even caused—with my own hands … they are nothing compared to what’s coming. Philip Pinkerton has brought his madness upon my family, my own blood. His army of necromancers is on the move, harbingers of a great darkness. I fear the war has begun ... and damn, I don't get paid enough for this.

Author's Top ten ingredients that an Urban Fantasy must have

Ahem, *cracks knuckles*:

10) Sarcasm.

9) Trench coats.

8) Passive aggressive fairies.

7) Giant slobbering cu siths.

6) Mystical stuff.

5) Bowlers.

4) Bad people.

3) Dead people.

2) Undead people.

1) Pizza (No, seriously, what was the last UF you read without pizza?).

EXCERPT:

Days

Gone Bad

I was standing outside the birdcage in the dead of night with a tiny ghost holding my hand and a seven-foot fairy watching our backs. I closed my eyes and focused, gathering up a glowing ball of fae before sending it out in a pulse of power across the park. It wasn’t aimed at just any dead; it was aimed at attracting the attention of one particular ghost. It didn’t take long.

The little girl at my side squealed as Happy came bounding through the bars of the birdcage, much to the chagrin of the scattering birds.

Happy pulled up about six inches in front of us. I held up another ball of energy and the spirit quaffed it down before I started scratching his ears. “Hey buddy, still terrorizing the birds, huh?” He leaned into the ear scratching and grunted.

“That is so wrong,” Foster said.

I turned to the little girl. She clung tightly to the back of my leg. Happy pushed his head between my legs and I heard another squeal. So, there I was, with a fairy laughing at me, a ghost panda between my legs, and a little girl unwilling to relinquish her death grip on me while she tried to get away from Happy.

Wolves and the River of Stone

Edgar’s face soured and he turned away from Zola. He looked nauseous. “Someone has to be held responsible for this mess. I’d rather prefer it be Vesik.”

“What?” I said. “What’d I ever do to you?”

Edgar leveled a glare at me.

“Ah, fair enough,” I said.

“Edgar, Ah don’t have time for this right now.” Zola gently pushed him aside with her scorched cane. Zola bent down and started digging beside the vampires and Hugh. Vik handed her a spade and she nodded her thanks.

“You may cite me if you wish,” Hugh said. He didn’t look up from the furrow he was digging in the dirt. “I have no issues with the Watchers’ duty.”

“That is kind, wolf,” Zola said. She glanced at Edgar. “Ah think we should play a game, Edgar. If you can spell this wolf’s name, you can issue him a citation.

Edgar blew out a breath. “You haven’t changed a bit, Adannaya.” He actually cracked a tiny smile and I thought my world was ending. “What is your name, wolf?”

“Hohnihohkaiyohos,” Hugh said.

Edgar glared at Zola for almost a minute. His mouth was open and his eyebrows were raised. I was waiting for him to break down crying or laughing. Instead he just shook his head.

“You get used to it Eddie,” I said as Foster snickered.

Winter's Demon

I was standing outside the birdcage in the dead of night with a tiny ghost holding my hand and a seven-foot fairy watching our backs. I closed my eyes and focused, gathering up a glowing ball of fae before sending it out in a pulse of power across the park. It wasn’t aimed at just any dead; it was aimed at attracting the attention of one particular ghost. It didn’t take long.

The little girl at my side squealed as Happy came bounding through the bars of the birdcage, much to the chagrin of the scattering birds.

Happy pulled up about six inches in front of us. I held up another ball of energy and the spirit quaffed it down before I started scratching his ears. “Hey buddy, still terrorizing the birds, huh?” He leaned into the ear scratching and grunted.

“That is so wrong,” Foster said.

I turned to the little girl. She clung tightly to the back of my leg. Happy pushed his head between my legs and I heard another squeal. So, there I was, with a fairy laughing at me, a ghost panda between my legs, and a little girl unwilling to relinquish her death grip on me while she tried to get away from Happy.

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About the author:

Eric is a former bookseller, guitarist, and comic seller currently living in Saint Louis, Missouri. A lifelong enthusiast of books, music, toys, and games, he discovered a love for the written word after being dragged to the library by his parents at a young age. When he is not writing, you can usually find him reading, gaming, or buried beneath a small avalanche of Transformers.

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