Check out this incredible excerpt of Seal of Solomon by Golden Czermak!
Releasing on August 29th, this PNR Adventure is a must read!
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ADD TO GOODREADS
Blurb:
WARNING:
This book is for mature readers only. Not for children. It contains
adult themes, violence, coarse language, sexual situations, nudity,
and paranormal themes.
The Adventure Continues...
From author Golden Czermak, comes the second installment of the enthralling Journeyman Series.
With no answers and a weapon of mass destruction slung around his neck, Gage Crosse is left with little choice but to travel with Joey Mosely to New York, seeking aid from the Order Council itself. Little do they know that they are about to embark on what may be the greatest adventure of their lives: to find the mysterious Seal of Solomon.
Meanwhile, the fragile threads holding the demon army and its monstrous allies together are unraveling. Keli must act quickly to maintain her position as ruler, else have all their efforts fall into the flames of ruin.
Can the Journeymen keep the Seal of Solomon out of demon hands, or will the Noctis succeed in wrenching all three artifacts from their control?
The Adventure Continues...
From author Golden Czermak, comes the second installment of the enthralling Journeyman Series.
With no answers and a weapon of mass destruction slung around his neck, Gage Crosse is left with little choice but to travel with Joey Mosely to New York, seeking aid from the Order Council itself. Little do they know that they are about to embark on what may be the greatest adventure of their lives: to find the mysterious Seal of Solomon.
Meanwhile, the fragile threads holding the demon army and its monstrous allies together are unraveling. Keli must act quickly to maintain her position as ruler, else have all their efforts fall into the flames of ruin.
Can the Journeymen keep the Seal of Solomon out of demon hands, or will the Noctis succeed in wrenching all three artifacts from their control?
Excerpt:
All
the Way from Denver
The
driving rain smashed against the fractured windshield of the GMC quad
cab as it raced down US 287, pavement whooshing by with a thunderous
roar. A set of dented fenders, splintered headlamps, and a shredded
bumper lead the way through the deluge; the old truck looked like it
had been through hell and back.
Which,
as so happens, it had.
The
escape from Denver was not easy, the terrible events there weighing
heavily on the driver’s mind. Grasping the steering wheel tightly
with both hands was a large man, topped with a bushy mop of black
hair that matched the stormy clouds and his bleak disposition. The
tank top he wore fit tightly over his substantial chest – tainted a
rusty brown from deep gashes underneath and also the fluids of many
dark creatures that had gotten in his way. This man was skilled at
making sure they would not be bothering anyone ever again – their
lifeblood spread across the past five hundred miles.
A
heaviness continued to bear down on Gage Crosse as he squinted
through the downpour with his weighty green eyes. Right then, it
would be all too easy to shut out the world and drift off to sleep,
but he fought off the urge to fully close them. He was used to
battling all kinds of supernatural creatures, but this time, things
were different; their numbers were far more extensive and wave after
exhausting wave came at him, leaving barely a chance to breathe.
There
were things he was experienced within the hordes, werewolves and
demons being the mainstay, but amongst the rest were horrifying
creatures, so new they hadn’t been given names or entries in any
lore book. Yet, despite overwhelming odds, Gage had once again
managed to pull through – still alive, still breathing, and still
able to feel emotions.
For
the last hundred or so miles, the route had been clear of any
confrontations, though a pervading sense of dread hung overhead like
the dark and wet sky. He let out a sigh of relief, welcoming the
respite no matter how brief. Looking over his baby, the battered GMC
was probably not going to withstand many more attacks.
They
know where you are going, Gage, a
nagging voice whispered in the back of his mind. They’re
not just going to let you go.
As
right as the voice may be, he tried to ignore it, focused instead on
staying steady while the wind whipped the cab from side to side. It
was still a challenge to see much of anything ahead, the windshield
wipers barely having any effect on the torrent. One thing was certain
– their incessant noise was contributing to a mounting
headache with each successive thump.
As
the wipers continued beating, a sharpness arose at the back of his
neck. All too familiar, he reached around to tweak the spiked chain
that hung across it. This had been happening since he left Denver and
it was growing tiresome, the feeling coming and going at chance
intervals.
Truth
be known, what he really wanted at that moment was to be behind the
safe walls of the Lodge and off of this infernal highway. Hopefully
there, the effects he was experiencing would be diminished and, for
damn sure, no monsters would be lurking. Despite those wants, reality
slapped him with a cold, hard fact; the fulfillment of those desires
remained over three and a half hours away.
The
silver amulet attached to the chain began to grow heavy, dragging
downward as if it were trying to cut its way clean through his neck.
He took a hand off the steering wheel, moving to adjust the chain.
As
soon as the ends of his thick fingers touched the polished metal
disc, there was a flare and he was whisked away from the highway.
A
tinny smell filled his nostrils and there in front of him was the
visage of a lifeless woman spread across mounds of debris in a once
splendid country kitchen. Her graceful brown hair was soaked through
with blood. It was Adrienne, his dearest, and although the scene was
pure carnage, her face maintained its beauty – still as wondrous
and delightful as he remembered. To him it looked as if she could
have been sleeping peacefully amidst the rubble… but he knew that
she was not.
I
am so sorry darlin’… he
thought, lamenting over having to leave her body behind in the
collapsed ruins of his old home.
The
image shifted, rippling to her in a ghostly form, rising up from a
vortex of shadows into the heavens. “Non
Omnis Moriar,”
she said softly, disappearing into the blackness.
Then,
as quickly as the vision had appeared, it was gone. Gage was back in
driver’s seat, still moving along with his heavy boot on the gas.
Not
all of me shall die, Gage
said in a low voice as the rain seemed to diminish. That motto, inked
across the top of his back, had carried him through the darkest of
times, and this was no exception. I’ll
always remember you, Ady. Your memory will live on… still
bright. He
brought his hand to his chest and lightly tapped the middle.
He
allowed his mind to wander a bit since he could now look out through
the light sheets of drizzle and the truck continued down the flat
green countryside for another lengthy stretch.
A
depressing thought dashed in. How
am I going to break this to Joey?
Adrienne
and he were like siblings, knowing each other for at least a year
before Gage ever came into the picture. Although Gage had no brothers
or sisters of his own, he knew that Joey would take the news very
hard and could relate wholeheartedly to the feeling of loss.
“Goddammit!”
he shouted crossly, slamming the horn with the edge of his palm. This
life did nothing but bring pain everywhere with it: one
happy-go-lucky thing replaced by five unhappy-go-to-shit ones.
Gage
crumpled his brow as he thought about his own relationship with Joey.
How was this going to change their dynamic? Would it? Should it?
While those were certainly questions that had built up, he didn't yet
know if he could, or even wanted to, answer them.
Instead
of harping on it, Gage decided on a different form of remedy, one
that had worked many times in the past.
He
reached over to the radio, flicked it on, and selected his favorite
track on the mix CD that was permanently loaded in the player. Track
number seven began to play, the music of Dream
On filling
the cab, and he was left to think on old times… normal times,
before the paranormal came in and made his life anything but super.
Eventually
US 287 transitioned to I-45 outside Alma, Texas. Fort Worth and
Dallas had disappeared well beyond the receding landscape. The
musical escapism continued and before he knew it, Gage was passing by
Huntsville, Texas.
The
Lodge was now just over an hour south, but as the nagging voice
indicated to him earlier, his pursuers were not going to just let him
go. Of course, that’s when the drive suddenly took a turn for the
worse.
The
panorama grew dark again, as if someone had cranked down a global
dimmer switch. Gage looked skyward, noticing there were no more
clouds than before, so he diligently prepped himself for another
encounter. This shit was not going to keep him from his destination.
He cleared his head of excess baggage and the grip he had on the
wheel tightened. He could have navigated his way back to the Lodge
using his veins as a map since they were sticking so far out from his
arms.
The
way ahead went black, a dark figure appearing in front of the truck.
Gage slammed hard on the brakes, fishtailing on the slippery road.
Turning nimbly into the swerves, he managed to right himself before
coming to a screeching halt. Gage searched frantically, but the being
was nowhere to be seen.
“What
the fuck?” he blurted, looking down the empty freeway. With chills,
he recognized the shadowy form from his brief but defining encounter
with it back in early 2014. It was Death. “What’re ya doing here,
Skeletor?” Gage probed. Despite the big man’s lack of fear,
Death’s presence, especially now, was particularly disturbing to
him.
A
loud thud came
from the truck bed and Gage shot a glance in the rearview, expecting
to see a pair of shriveled hands coming at him. What he saw was no
less dangerous: a heavyset man had leapt into the bed, his eyes pitch
black, rimmed with crimson.
“Another
one of you damn red eyed freaks?” Gage grumbled. He floored the
gas, using the demon’s size against him. The chubby man fell onto
his ass, rolling toward the back like a huge ball. His rotund body
struck against the tailgate with a mighty boom and
it came right off, sending a shower of sparks into the air as they
both careened into the grassy median, smashing hard against the
dividing barricade.
“Well,
fuck my life!” Gage shouted at the empty spot where the tailgate
had been, speeding up to put some distance between him and the demon
paste. “Sorry old girl!”
Another
loud noise came from ahead, the tall shape of a werewolf landing
squarely on the hood.
“I
swear, if a damn bloodsucker shows up to complete this trio, I’m
officially retiring,” Gage jeered, grabbing his choice pistol from
its resting spot beside him.
The
wolf man rose, anchoring the claws of both feet and one arm into the
thin metal, using the other to strike the windshield as he howled.
The window spider-webbed across the entire thing; Gage couldn't see
anything at all.
“Dammit!”
he shouted, pointing the gun forward with a long exhale. “I promise
to get ya fixed up after.” He pulled the trigger several times and
the safety glass shattered, pelting the giant dog with a harmless
crystalline shower.
Now
with a clear shot, he aimed again and fired, the silver bullet racing
straight between the wolf’s eyes.
Without
warning, a cloud of shadow swooped in and swiftly encased the wolf
like a barrier. Gage thought he saw a monstrous lion’s head amidst
the smoke and watched as the wisps of vapor were sucked into the
wolf’s body.
“Well
shit, this is a first!” he said, letting loose with the remains of
the silver bullets.
The
wolf flung its eyes open as the bullets struck; they had shifted from
penetrating yellow to black and red. Silver had lost its
effectiveness and with renewed vigor, the werewolf swiped at Gage.
Its claws narrowly missed as he ducked out of the way.
“A
demon possessed werewolf… great,” Gage grumbled as he laid low
with his face pressed against the seat. “Don’t you Noctis know
how to play by the rules?”
The
truck veered as he drove for a bit without looking, ejecting the
spent clip onto the floor mat. It clinked against a collection of
other empties that had grown around his feet like metallic weeds.
Reaching into the ammo rack mounted under the dash, where the last of
the clips were stored, he took a tan colored one. The magazine was
filled with a dozen iron bullets, his only hope against the
demon-wolf.
Before
he could load it, the vehicle swerved sharply to the left. Yanking
the wheel in the opposite direction, Gage glanced up to see the
werewolf had a tight hold of it.
Hell
no! he
thought, rising up in the seat menacingly.
“Crosse!
Prepare to die!” the beast snarled, wrenching the wheel back over
toward the median. The truck left the pavement and tore into the
grass. Metal barriers whooshed by, grating against the sides of the
GMC and stripping away its brown and white paint.
Gage
choked. “Nobody drives this truck but me,” he said boldly,
grabbing the clawed hand with his own. Slowly, he unwrapped each of
the coarse fingers and squeezed them tightly, bending them back until
he could both hear and feel a snap. They did so satisfyingly and the
corner of Gage’s mouth turned up as he steered the truck back into
a lane.
The
monster groaned in pain, but did not topple, still locked in sturdily
by the anchors he had made. Wasting no time, he lashed back at Gage.
Seeing
the oncoming talons, Gage’s smirk evaporated as he dodged them
again. The brute missed, though a few loose strands of Gage’s hair
were sliced right off the top. The driver’s seat ended up catching
the brunt of the attack – shreds of fabric floated by as Gage
loaded the new clip into the custom MK-23.
The click it
made was so reassuring, but the racket that followed wasn’t. The
sounds of metal being punctured reached his ears, the enemy taking
meticulous steps toward the cab. There Gage wouldn’t stand much of
a chance in the tight space.
Not
about to let himself become dog chow, he sat up confidently with the
backing of his loaded weapon. “That ain't gonna happen, fucker.”
Seven
bullets, dull and ferrous, leapt from the barrel, making their way
into the beast. Most struck hard in the center of his chest, while a
couple entered his anchor arm, spreading a raging pain like fire.
Three more bullets arrived, forcing him down to his belly like a
snake. He held on tight to the detaching hood, determined not to fall
and become a smear on the whizzing pavement.
“Gah!”
Gage yelled. “Stubborn son of a bitch! The edge is right… there…
would be nice of ya to USE IT!”
Arm
over arm the werewolf pulled itself across sharp, flayed edges.
Streams of dark blood were left behind, contrasting against the
bright white paint.
Gage
had long grown tired of this fool and just wanted him gone, so he
aimed and almost pulled the trigger again. But he resisted.
With only two bullets left, there wasn’t much room for error. So,
despite the urge to simply let loose, he chose to stay still and do
nothing. That would bide time to make sure these bullets counted.
The
werewolf continued to claw his way to the window, the outer edge of
the frame bending beneath his hands.
Closer…
Gage
glanced down to check the pistol hidden in his lap, then returned to
staring down the monster.
Closer…
The
monster grasped at the wheel, dragging his weighty body into the cab.
His snout was mere inches from the tip of Gage’s nose and each
breath was hot and sticky with spit, reeking with the smell of rancid
eggs.
Resisting
the urge to hurl what little fluid he had left, Gage brought up his
pistol and set it right against the creature’s temple. His hand was
as steady as a rock and his confidence pegged on high.
“I
believe this is checkmate, Fido,” he whispered as he popped off a
couple pieces of hot iron into the wolf’s skull.
“No…
this is,” the werewolf replied, tearing the steering wheel from its
column with his last bit of strength. Deed done, he pushed himself
out then listed, falling from the edge of the hood. His body hit the
rushing pavement and rolled underneath the rear tires with a
grotesque crunch.
The
truck lurched and barreled off the highway. Gage couldn’t steer,
now riding a bullet himself. Fastening his seatbelt, he tried to slam
on the brakes but it was too late, the barrier coming up fast before
all went dark…
***
The
gentle rhythm of rain had returned and wreckage of the GMC was
hard-pressed into the barricade. The sprinkling water thinned the
blood stains into a light pink runoff which was pooling underneath
the inoperable vehicle. The front end was obliterated steel, far
beyond repair, yet three of the four tires were still in decent
order. However, the last one hung from a busted rim like an inner
tube wrapped around an alloy taco shell.
Despite
her battered appearance, most of the GMC could possibly be salvaged.
Which was more than could be said of Gage. He was slumped over in his
seat, eyes loosely closed. No breaths came from his open mouth, nor
rise or fall from his large chest. In fact, there was no movement at
all except for the steady flow of tepid blood from his body.
The
situation was grim and that is when he reappeared.
Death
hovered over the median, dark, graceful, and menacing. Holding a long
pole of gnarled mahogany, his robes caught the wind and the tattered
black fabric moved like snakes, yet slowly as if underwater.
It
grew frigid and the sheets of rain transformed into hail as he made
his way toward the crash site. Releasing the staff, it hung in the
air for a second before vanishing in a wisp of shade. The grass
froze, pummeled by the falling chunks of ice, leaving a cracked trail
in his wake.
Back
on the highway, traffic had gotten heavier, but zoomed by as if
nothing was out of the ordinary – unable to see the disastrous
wreckage between the north and south bound lanes.
Reaching
the driver’s side, Death glared ominously at Gage’s motionless
face. There was glimmer below his large black hood, as if eyes
underneath had caught a stray flicker from a distant candle.
Whispers
then came, skimming on the breeze from all directions. A cacophony of
a thousand voices speaking in unison, all addressing one man.
Amidst
the clamor, the Reaper lifted one of his skinless hands and extended
it into the cab. A lean finger, dusty and splintered, rose to point
at Gage, hovering just above his temple. “Gage… Crosse…”
Death spoke, his hollow voice rising above the discordance of the
others. “There is much left for you to do, man who does not fear
death.”
With
dagger-like quickness, the trembling finger was thrust deep into his
skull, penetrating the bone with ease. Gage convulsed in the seat,
belching up ungodly amounts of fluid.
“Rise...”
Abruptly,
the hail became rain once again, the grass soft and fertile. Death
was gone and with a painful, dry gasp, Gage awoke.
Make sure you're all caught up with Homeward Bound! OUT NOW!
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Blurb:
WARNING:
This book is for mature readers only. Not for children. It contains
adult themes, violence, coarse language, sexual situations, nudity,
and paranormal themes.
The entire world is on the brink of finding out nightmares are real.
An army of demons known as the Noctis is growing in strength.They control all manner of foul beasts and if not stopped soon, cities will burn, lives will end, and hope will be lost.
The only thing standing in the way are the Journeymen; humans and supernatural beings united against the darkness.
There is one known amongst men and the supernatural alike that you don’t mess with. Unless it’s on his terms.
His name is Gage Crosse and he's the best damn Journeyman around.
These are his adventures.
The entire world is on the brink of finding out nightmares are real.
An army of demons known as the Noctis is growing in strength.They control all manner of foul beasts and if not stopped soon, cities will burn, lives will end, and hope will be lost.
The only thing standing in the way are the Journeymen; humans and supernatural beings united against the darkness.
There is one known amongst men and the supernatural alike that you don’t mess with. Unless it’s on his terms.
His name is Gage Crosse and he's the best damn Journeyman around.
These are his adventures.
About the Author:
In the beginning, Golden worked the standard corporate rat race, completed college for a Chemical Engineering Degree, and began a small photography company on the side.
Since then, and the growth of the FuriousFotog brand, Golden became an internationally published modeling/fitness photographer and eventually began working as a book cover model.
Having been in the industry for at least four years, he has interfaced and networked with countless authors and other clients. As part of his work as a photographer, he worked with them to create book cover images - now numbering well over 250 at the beginning of 2016.
Learning the ins and out of the book world, along with being an avid reader and storyteller himself, Golden finally decided to write and publish his first book, Homeward Bound, in 2016. This paranormal adventure romance will span a total of six books and new ideas for other stories are in the works as well.
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