The Ancient Order by JB Michaels Book Tour and Giveaway :)
The
Ancient Order
Bud Hutchins
Supernatural Thrillers Book 1
by
JB Michaels
Genre: Supernatural
Suspense, Urban Fantasy
Who protects you and the world from supernatural destruction?
This prequel novella will give you the answer in the most exhilarating and unexpected way.
Highly-skilled soldiers of the world's most powerful army are slaughtered.
A battle-hardened
centurion is sent on a special mission to the wilds of Roman Britain
to investigate the strange and ghastly murders of his
brothers-in-arms. With the help of a warrior Queen, Magnus will
encounter deathly forces, battle rival clans, and transform, not only
himself but an entire nation.
The Order of St.
Michael forms in tenuous times, under dour circumstances, and stands
as the world's foremost defense against darkness.
**Only
.99cents!!**
“Stand
together, men!” The battle-hardened legionary barked a
desperate order. The
devastation surrounding the few soldiers struck fear into their brave
hearts. Their brothers-in-arms once full of life and vigor, now lay
dead in a most peculiar, inexplicable fashion. “Shields
at the ready! Let it come. We’ll push it back together. Togeth—” A
thumping bass sounded once again. Though the sky painted a gloomy
gray over the land, the source of this thunder was no storm. Sweat
poured from their helmets. Heavy gasps gave way to controlled
breaths. The soldiers packed themselves into a square. Calloused
hands gripped hilts of the devastatingly effective short sword—the
gladius. Their visibility low, only the small space between their
shields showed the danger that charged them. The force that killed
their friends. Their fellow men of the mightiest empire the world had
ever known—the toughest men born from the blood of their ancestors
with the mission to spread the glory of Rome fell in great numbers
this day. The remaining thoughts of their homes, their families,
their futures, fell to the wayside as the need to survive prevailed. The
rumble of a beast’s massive feet moved closer and closer. “Stand
ready, men! Get ready to push it back!” The
loud, guttural roar of the monster muted the centurion’s commands
and words of encouragement. “Hold!
Iehova be with us!”
CHAPTER
1
Magnus
Vicillius looked out onto the shoreline from the small rowboat
powered by men in his charge. The gray sky and the cool temperature
did little to welcome the warrior to Britannia. The temperature of
the air served as harsh reminder of the wear on his body serving
twenty years for SPQR. The Senate and the People of Rome relied on
his service to maintain and strengthen the empire. The
neck of the muscular centurion ached. He hurt it pushing a battering
ram into the walls of a Germanic fort. There
were many other scars that riddled his back. The barbarians sent out
their women in the night to assassinate him and the other officers.
He woke upon the first slash of many. Her wild demeanor nearly killed
him. Magnus gained the advantage quickly, but his sleepy state caused
him much grief. He rarely slept from that night forward. The incident
proved his closest brush with death. No battle or bloody skirmishes
with men bigger and stronger than he were as dangerous.
Still,
Magnus neared the end of his term. In just five short years, he would
receive the land promised to him and be able to live peacefully. Away
from the frontiers filled with uncertainty and danger. His
reputation preceded him. A greeting party waited for him. His
men jumped from the rowboat into the shallows and pushed the boat up
to the beach. “Greetings,
Magnus. Governor Gricola requests your presence immediately.” A man
dressed in gray robes surrounded by four soldiers looked deadly
serious. “Take
me to him.” Magnus, in full centurion regalia—full metal
breastplate, his large belt which held Marius’s mule, his
centurion-class helmet with the crimson crest of hair— stepped onto
the beach of dismal Britannia. His sandal-boots sank into the wet
sand.
Governor
Gricola rubbed his hands on the robe covering his knees. “I sent
them past the wall to attempt a peaceful conversion. They have yet to
return. I sent for you to investigate and retrieve these men. I
assure you I gave them orders to escort the missionary and march on
peace and not conquest.”
Magnus
stood in front of the governor with his helmet under his arm. “The
tribes in Caledonia historically don’t take kindly to Roman legions
marching onto their land no matter the mission.”
“Of
course, Vicillius. I wouldn’t have sent them had I not sent scouts
to procure a meeting with a tribal leader who sought knowledge of
Iehova or Yeshua or whichever nomenclature they use. Of course, it
would be in my best interest to bring Constantine’s god to the
frontier.” “I
shall march with my men upon first light.” “No
more time should be wasted. I’d hoped they would return in the time
it took for the message to reach Rome. Alas, they have yet to
return.” “I
assure you, my men will find out what happened to them, Governor.”
Magnus stood tall in the lavish, intricate, wood-carved sitting room
of the governor’s villa. “That
is why I requested you, Magnus. You shall have the full complement of
my local auxiliaries manning Hadrian’s wall, if you please.” “Though
I appreciate the gesture, we’d better not stir up the tribes with
another larger force beyond the walls. If we need the might of your
forces, I shall send my best messenger for their assistance.” “Remember,
Magnus. There is a reason we built the wall. Please come back.” The
governor stood from his chair and nodded to Magnus. The
centurion didn’t know if Gricola’s plea was genuine. He’d just
admitted that he sent the troop to help convert the pagans of the
North to gain favor with the emperor. Over the years, Magnus realized
that rarely were the intentions of the patricians in power purely
selfless.
“I
appreciate your concern for the finest soldiers of the empire. We
will be back, Governor.”
The
Order of St. Michael
Bud
Hutchins Supernatural Thrillers Book 2
What
do you get when you pair a smart-mouthed geek with a fake English
accent and a disciplined, headstrong woman with incredible powers?
Meet
Bud Hutchins, a socially awkward super genius who talks too much and
can’t get out of his own way. Will he heed the call to join the
Order and save humanity?
Eh,
maybe.
Meet
Maeve, a beautiful young woman who happens to be a monk of an ancient
Order tasked with keeping evil spirits at bay and saving Bud Hutchins
from himself.
She
rolls her eyes. Alot.
In
this globe-trotting, action-packed supernatural thriller, our heroes
fight to contain an ancient evil that calls from beyond.
It’s
time for you to join the Order. Battle monsters. Avenge the dead and
save the natural world from supernatural destruction.
**On
Sale for $2.99 now!!**
"Check
the desk for more shells." Bud
walked to the mahogany desk. On the floor behind the desk was a dead
man with a box of shotgun shells spilled next to him. The man looked
emaciated not from decay but from starvation. Bud collected the
shotgun shells, placed them in the box, and stood ready to provide
ammo. "Don't
just stand there. Let's move the desk to the door so we can slow them
some more!" Maeve grabbed an end of the desk. Bud shut the door
and grabbed the other side of the desk. "How
long do you think this desk will hold them off?" "Not
very long at all. That is why I have the shotgun." Bud
handed her two shells when the first thump on the door rattled the
bookshelves of the old library. Bud's heartbeat quickened. THUMP.
The second pound knocked some books off the shelves. The dust
billowed as the books hit the hardwood floor. "Is
the gun even operational?" Maeve
loaded two shells into the double barrel and waited. THUMP.
The third impact showed a crack in the door. "How,
might I inquire, did you learn how to load, handle, and presumably
shoot a gun that size?" Bud asked. "My
uncle took me hunting." Maeve lifted the shotgun to shoulder
height. A
crack in the door grew larger with each successive pounding. The
undead soldiers were relentless. Bud and Maeve couldn't tell if the
audible cracking was wood or frail bones. The space in the door
spread into a fissure. A deathly arm burst through. Another arm
pulled at the opening and the fissure grew into a chasm. Maeve
readied the shotgun. "You
are planning to use the shotgun?" Bud asked. BOOM.
Maeve squeezed off the first shot. Three undead soldier's heads blew
off their shoulders. Bone splinters and rotted flesh sprayed the
doorway. The
second line moved forward with many more intact heads and shoulders.
One soldier's eye dangled from his skull. Another's jaw detached and
fell to the ground. BOOM. Another
shot rattled Bud's ears. Maeve stood three feet behind the blockade
desk calm as can be. She put her hand toward Bud for more shells
which he happily provided. The second shell had blown back three more
soldiers.
The
Elixir
Bud
Hutchins Supernatural Thrillers Book 3
How
far would you go to save a friend?
From
award-winning author JB Michaels, author of The Order of St. Michael
and the award-winning Tannenbaum Tailors series
Join
Bud Hutchins in an action-packed urban fantasy set in Chicago, home
to the world's most notorious urban legends. A murder rocks Chicago
Metro University. Maeve, a monk of the Order of St. Michael, faces
possible annihilation. A poltergeist wreaks havoc across the city.
With the help of the brilliant Ivy, a doctoral candidate, Bud will
need to employ science and the supernatural in his most harrowing
adventure yet, The Elixir: A Bud Hutchins Thriller.
The
Ghost of Capone
Mt.
Olivet Cemetery, the original resting place of gangster Al Capone, is
disturbed by an ungodly menace.
Resurrection
Mary strikes
The
forested roads of Archer Avenue are once again stalked by the deathly
and cunning Resurrection Mary.
Murder,
Mayhem, and the Elixir
A
beautiful, young teacher's assistant is murdered over a mysterious
elixir: an ancient concoction that could change history!
From
Wrigleyville to the Willis Tower, the Museum of Science and Industry
to Beverly...
...join
Bud Hutchins on an epic adventure through Chicago!
The
Elixir is ready. Scroll up and grab a copy today.
Maeve moved further into the cemetery and ascended the hilltop towards the mausoleums at the crest. There were trees up there. The scent grew stronger. She reached the top of the hill and down the path saw a police squad car. Parked. No lights were on. Maeve quickly dropped on all fours, bounded off the path and used the tombstones for cover as she approached. The squad car’s passenger door and rear passenger side door were open. Maeve stood back up and examined the car closely. There was an unconscious police officer inside, leaning on the passenger door. Another officer’s head rested on the steering wheel. Maeve noticed their sidearms were missing. Normal chatter and codes burst forth from the radio. The rack that usually held a bigger weapon was bent and broken. The shotgun missing. The source of the odor had to have been here. It was strongest in this area. A piercing, booming, sound resonated in the cemetery and rattled Maeve’s sensitive ear drums. A bullet smacked up against the front passenger door, which Maeve stood behind. Another shot hit the window. It cracked. Maeve ducked behind the cover of the door. She waited to see if another shot would ring out. Nothing. She surmised that the gunman was near the mausoleum closer to the entrance. She bounded back to the tombstones for cover. Then she saw him--a man dressed in a cream trench coat and a suit that matched the jacket. He wore a fedora cocked to the left. The man’s face bore a large scar. Al Capone had risen from the dead. The notorious world-famous gangster and king of Prohibition lived again.
The
Castle
Bud
Hutchins Supernatural Thrillers Book 4
No rest for the wicked they say.
Barely
catching their breath, Bud, Ivy, and Maeve find themselves pitted
against the Chicago police, the FBI, and the world’s most powerful
vampire. Will they escape injury-free or will the fangs of doom
pierce their jugular veins?
The answers can only be found in The Castle: A Bud Hutchins Thriller.
The
three slayers of the supernatural will face their most formidable
threats, seek solutions to their most important problems, and be
forever changed.
The threats are plenty. The stakes are higher. The tasks nigh impossible.
Time
to grab your favorite monster-slaying weapon, raise your torch, and
storm the Castle walls.
The candlelight flickered. The soft glow accentuated his finely drawn cheekbones and strong jawline. His blue eyes bore a look of joy in the laughter he shared with his female companion. The brunette with the green eyes and ruby-red lipstick closed her eyes and laughed, nearly spilling the wine from her medieval goblet. Before she stopped giggling and her eyes reopened in recovery of her jovial fit, his brow furrowed. His eyes showed his true condition—a menacing yet brief look, one of lust and of hunger in full and equitable measure. The look vanished. His courtly composure retained. “Oh, my dear Vincentas, who knew you could be so amusing?” “Shall I take umbrage with your last statement and just kill you right now?” Vincentas grinned. Another loud burst of laughter. The Cabernet Sauvignon didn’t have a higher level of spirits than any other wine he usually picked from his cellar. Still, Vincentas poured more into her goblet. His attempts at humor could land, but usually with a casual, rather weak effect. She acted as if he’d performed a comedy routine for years and had earned his own television show. “That is enough wine for me, Vincentas. What are you trying to do me?” She leaned over the small table, giving him full view of her cleavage. “I do nothing that one does not allow amicably.” He smiled, leaned forward, and kissed both of her cheeks then pulled back to survey her reaction. She stood up from her chair, took another swig from her goblet, walked to his side of the table, and pulled him off his chair. She grasped his shirt collar with both hands and kissed him like a lioness devoured a fresh kill. Her aggression took Vincentas by surprise. She wasn’t the real monster though. The candlelight moved violently, then the flames extinguished, and darkness overtook the room. Vincentas didn’t need the light. His hands caressed her where they had touched many other women in his long life. He loved discovering the slight variations of the female physique. The curves, the hips, the muscles both hard and soft, the flesh. His particular favorite: the length of the neck. She moaned. The sensual and soft sounds of sexual assurance turned to a panicked scream. A loud crash filled the dark room. In the struggle to free herself, she kicked over the dinner table. “No! No! Please! Plea—” Her voice gargled with blood.The candlelight flickered. The soft glow accentuated his finely drawn cheekbones and strong jawline. His blue eyes bore a look of joy in the laughter he shared with his female companion. The brunette with the green eyes and ruby-red lipstick closed her eyes and laughed, nearly spilling the wine from her medieval goblet. Before she stopped giggling and her eyes reopened in recovery of her jovial fit, his brow furrowed. His eyes showed his true condition—a menacing yet brief look, one of lust and of hunger in full and equitable measure. The look vanished. His courtly composure retained. “Oh, my dear Vincentas, who knew you could be so amusing?” “Shall I take umbrage with your last statement and just kill you right now?” Vincentas grinned. Another loud burst of laughter. The Cabernet Sauvignon didn’t have a higher level of spirits than any other wine he usually picked from his cellar. Still, Vincentas poured more into her goblet. His attempts at humor could land, but usually with a casual, rather weak effect. She acted as if he’d performed a comedy routine for years and had earned his own television show. “That is enough wine for me, Vincentas. What are you trying to do me?” She leaned over the small table, giving him full view of her cleavage. “I do nothing that one does not allow amicably.” He smiled, leaned forward, and kissed both of her cheeks then pulled back to survey her reaction. She stood up from her chair, took another swig from her goblet, walked to his side of the table, and pulled him off his chair. She grasped his shirt collar with both hands and kissed him like a lioness devoured a fresh kill. Her aggression took Vincentas by surprise. She wasn’t the real monster though. The candlelight moved violently, then the flames extinguished, and darkness overtook the room. Vincentas didn’t need the light. His hands caressed her where they had touched many other women in his long life. He loved discovering the slight variations of the female physique. The curves, the hips, the muscles both hard and soft, the flesh. His particular favorite: the length of the neck. She moaned. The sensual and soft sounds of sexual assurance turned to a panicked scream. A loud crash filled the dark room. In the struggle to free herself, she kicked over the dinner table. “No! No! Please! Plea—” Her voice gargled with blood.
Greetings!
For the official site of JB Michaels head on over
to http://mistermichaels.com/for
two free books!
J. B. Michaels,
multi-award winning author and member of the Society of Children’s
Book Writers and Illustrators, has written stories since he was in
fourth grade. He is a history teacher who loves his job.
Married
and with a son, Michaels has a great love of family. He has two
series: the Gold and Bronze medal-winning Tannenbaum Tailors and Bud
Hutchins Thrillers.
Follow
the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!
The candlelight flickered. The soft glow accentuated his finely drawn cheekbones and strong jawline. His blue eyes bore a look of joy in the laughter he shared with his female companion. The brunette with the green eyes and ruby-red lipstick closed her eyes and laughed, nearly spilling the wine from her medieval goblet. Before she stopped giggling and her eyes reopened in recovery of her jovial fit, his brow furrowed. His eyes showed his true condition—a menacing yet brief look, one of lust and of hunger in full and equitable measure. The look vanished. His courtly composure retained. “Oh, my dear Vincentas, who knew you could be so amusing?” “Shall I take umbrage with your last statement and just kill you right now?” Vincentas grinned. Another loud burst of laughter. The Cabernet Sauvignon didn’t have a higher level of spirits than any other wine he usually picked from his cellar. Still, Vincentas poured more into her goblet. His attempts at humor could land, but usually with a casual, rather weak effect. She acted as if he’d performed a comedy routine for years and had earned his own television show. “That is enough wine for me, Vincentas. What are you trying to do me?” She leaned over the small table, giving him full view of her cleavage. “I do nothing that one does not allow amicably.” He smiled, leaned forward, and kissed both of her cheeks then pulled back to survey her reaction. She stood up from her chair, took another swig from her goblet, walked to his side of the table, and pulled him off his chair. She grasped his shirt collar with both hands and kissed him like a lioness devoured a fresh kill. Her aggression took Vincentas by surprise. She wasn’t the real monster though. The candlelight moved violently, then the flames extinguished, and darkness overtook the room. Vincentas didn’t need the light. His hands caressed her where they had touched many other women in his long life. He loved discovering the slight variations of the female physique. The curves, the hips, the muscles both hard and soft, the flesh. His particular favorite: the length of the neck. She moaned. The sensual and soft sounds of sexual assurance turned to a panicked scream. A loud crash filled the dark room. In the struggle to free herself, she kicked over the dinner table. “No! No! Please! Plea—” Her voice gargled with blood.The candlelight flickered. The soft glow accentuated his finely drawn cheekbones and strong jawline. His blue eyes bore a look of joy in the laughter he shared with his female companion. The brunette with the green eyes and ruby-red lipstick closed her eyes and laughed, nearly spilling the wine from her medieval goblet. Before she stopped giggling and her eyes reopened in recovery of her jovial fit, his brow furrowed. His eyes showed his true condition—a menacing yet brief look, one of lust and of hunger in full and equitable measure. The look vanished. His courtly composure retained. “Oh, my dear Vincentas, who knew you could be so amusing?” “Shall I take umbrage with your last statement and just kill you right now?” Vincentas grinned. Another loud burst of laughter. The Cabernet Sauvignon didn’t have a higher level of spirits than any other wine he usually picked from his cellar. Still, Vincentas poured more into her goblet. His attempts at humor could land, but usually with a casual, rather weak effect. She acted as if he’d performed a comedy routine for years and had earned his own television show. “That is enough wine for me, Vincentas. What are you trying to do me?” She leaned over the small table, giving him full view of her cleavage. “I do nothing that one does not allow amicably.” He smiled, leaned forward, and kissed both of her cheeks then pulled back to survey her reaction. She stood up from her chair, took another swig from her goblet, walked to his side of the table, and pulled him off his chair. She grasped his shirt collar with both hands and kissed him like a lioness devoured a fresh kill. Her aggression took Vincentas by surprise. She wasn’t the real monster though. The candlelight moved violently, then the flames extinguished, and darkness overtook the room. Vincentas didn’t need the light. His hands caressed her where they had touched many other women in his long life. He loved discovering the slight variations of the female physique. The curves, the hips, the muscles both hard and soft, the flesh. His particular favorite: the length of the neck. She moaned. The sensual and soft sounds of sexual assurance turned to a panicked scream. A loud crash filled the dark room. In the struggle to free herself, she kicked over the dinner table. “No! No! Please! Plea—” Her voice gargled with blood.
Greetings! For the official site of JB Michaels head on over to http://mistermichaels.com/for two free books!
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