The Soulstealer’s greatest power is that no one believes it exists…
…except Steven Carpenter. One of the last remaining members of the Ordo Solis—a thousand-year-old order sworn to kill the ancient demon—even his faith has begun to wane. But when he witnesses the return of the Soulstealer with his own eyes, belief quickly turns to grim reality.
With the souls of the world at stake, Steven knows what he has to do—expose the Soulstealer. There’s just one problem, it knows it’s been discovered … and so do the nefarious cults sworn to the demon’s cause. In a race against time and evil, Steven will have to find help. But will it be enough? Or will they be too late?
Author Shane Boulware ramps up the action in his hair-raising second entry in the Soulstealer series. Burning the boundaries between urban fantasy and suspense thriller, this grim-dark stomach-churner will leave you as breathless as the characters trapped within its pages.
Steven paced his cell. He had heard of Unas’ brutality, but this brought things to a whole new level. Were these really made from our Ordo Europe brothers and sisters? His body shuddered.
The Soulstealer came and took Raeleigh, Mia, and someone from Ordo Europe that the Unas captured. They were to help with some damnable Ordo Solis peace treaty. Steven felt confident the bad blood between the two sides would prove too tricky for common ground to be found. Someone would make the wrong move.
The thought produced as much fear as it did satisfaction. Raeleigh was at that meeting. He prayed she stayed out of the crossfire should things go south. The Unas cleared out as well. One thug guarded his cell, a few Unas walked the tunnels.
If ever he should devise a plan to escape, he couldn’t pick a better time. His current confinement, however, wouldn’t give him an inch to work with. No one would claim Steven to be a small man, but he made minimal impact trying to shake loose, kick open, or shoulder bash the structure. No way out.
Occasionally, some wannabe masked barbarian trotted past. One passed by when a sharp shout came from Steven’s right. His guard and the patrolling Unas turned around. They made to bring their weapons up but were riddled with bullet holes; red spattered in every direction. One fell against the wall, the other face-first into the sandy floor.
Steven blinked at their newly minted corpses. He snapped into action, rattling the bone bars and pressing his face against them to peer down the tunnel, but couldn’t see more than ten feet. He heard hushed whispers before three figures appeared. They each wore long-sleeved bodysuits and balaclavas. The first pointed its weapon at Steven; the other two switched back and forth between Steven and further down the hallway. Their twitchy movements made Steven wonder if they had ever held a weapon before.
More masks, always more masks.
“Uh, hi,” one said, looking Steven’s prison up and down.
Steven blinked, then waved. “Who’re you guys?”
“Doesn’t matter who we are, chap, who are you?”
These guys didn’t know I was here. “I’m Steven. Proud Ordo Solis, American branch.”
The men glanced at one another, then back at Steven. “We heard you were bagged,” one said.
“We don’t have time for this,” another hissed.
“And you propose to leave this chap here? He’s obviously not Unas,” the second man replied.
“There’re two Solis Americans left,” Steven said. “I’m one, and the other, Raeleigh, is currently being held by the Soulstealer as some sort of liaison for the meeting with Solis Europe.”
“J, we have to finish clearing this section before they come back,” the first man said.
Steven motioned down the hallway. “No problem, please feel free to take ‘em all out. But make sure you come back. I’d rather not continue to be a prisoner.” He pointed at the long scratch marks on his face. “Not sure how much longer they’ll restrain themselves.”
“Good idea. Alright. Let’s go,” the second man said. They hurried away.
Those buffoons have got to be Solis Europe. Steven pumped his fist. “Yessssss!”
He paced the length of his cell. At last, he heard heavy footsteps coming toward him. The gaggle of colored balaclavas found Steven smirking as they came to a stop in front of him.
“Here he is,” one of them gestured toward Steven.
A slender figure stepped forward and peered through the bone bars. “You’re Ordo Solis?” a woman’s voice demanded.
Steven winked. “Wouldn’t dream of being otherwise.”
“Who vas the first of our Order?” she questioned in a thick German accent.
“Jedidiah, the wisest of us all,” Steven recited. He imagined the many afternoons he and Jeff spent as Ordo Solis initiates in frigid New England. Their mentor made them memorize whole paragraphs of information to pass their oral examinations.
“And who is ze Lionheart?” she asked.
Steven clenched his fists, shaking them. “We’re all the Lionheart!”
The woman looked at the bolted lock. “Destroy zese doors, break him out.” Two of the men broke the bones from the rebar and pried a few of them apart. Steven wasted no time stepping through to freedom.
Shane Boulware is an unconventional idealist from Orlando, Florida. Naturally, he commissioned as a Contracting Officer in the United States Air Force in 2012, where he promptly got tased, was hit with pepper spray, participated in a mock riot, jumped out of an airplane, and lived in a combat zone. These experiences tempered his creative instinct and led him to publish two music albums, found an innovation company, break a Guinness World Record, and learn over sixteen dance styles.
Having grown up a huge fan of Dune, Star Wars, Stargate SG-1, Warhammer 40K, Harry Potter, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and The Lord of the Rings, Shane always wanted to create and share a world of his own. His imagination set him on a path to write the supernatural thriller, Soulstealer, and its sequel, The Ordo Solis.
When he’s not negotiating contracts or salsa dancing the night away, you can find Shane taking his creative passion out on an unsuspecting keyboard. If you want to know when his next book will be available, visit his website at ShaneBoulware.com, where you can sign up to receive release updates and join a community of savants, swashbucklers, and nerds.
After enduring Delphine’s dangerous training regimen, the young gods and demigods embark on a mission to take down the corrupt shipping company once and for all, to liberate victimized communities up and down the Mediterranean and nearby seas. But unforeseen conflicts cause the young gods and demigods to question the nature of their mission, their purpose, and their relationships with one another.
In the face of impossible choices, how important are love, loyalty, and friendship? Moreover, how far should one go to defend those who can’t defend themselves? Should one sacrifice everything?
Read the surprising conclusion of The Vampires and Gods Series. For lovers of Greek mythology, paranormal romance, and action adventure stories.
Gertie stood in the foyer of the great hall on Mount Olympus, waiting for Hector to finish his tour with Hephaestus. Hector had invited her to join him to see the magical forge, but she’d wanted him to have this chance to be alone with his father. She hadn’t thought about her own comfort—or lack of it as she stood there with the Olympians on their thrones only a few yards away. Although she’d earned their respect in the battle with the old man of the sea and his entourage of monsters and was about to become a goddess herself, she didn’t dare presume that she was free to speak with them.
She pushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and glanced nervously at the gods before averting her eyes to her boots. Her stomach hurt, and her heart wouldn’t slow down no matter how deeply she breathed. An eternity seemed to pass when Hector finally emerged with his father.
Just seeing Hector’s face again made her less nervous. Although people often mistook them for brother and sister because they both had blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, fortunately for them, they weren’t, even though they were both descended from gods.
“Are you ready for the council meeting?” Hephaestus asked her.
Gertie took a deep breath. “I think so.”
“Of course, she is,” Hector said. “She hasn’t stopped talking about it for days. Have you, Gertie?”
“Are you sure you’re ready?” Hephaestus asked again.
“Yes,” she said, this time without hesitation. “I’m just a little nervous about how it will feel and how I’ll adapt. There isn’t much written about apotheosis. I feel unprepared.”
Hephaestus laughed. “Preparation has its virtues, but surprises make life exciting.”
“I like that.” Hector beamed up at his dad.
Gertie would rather be prepared.
“Good luck,” Hephaestus said as he turned to walk away.
“Thanks again for showing me around, Father,” Hector said. “I hope I’ll have the chance to see you again soon.”
The god gave Hector a polite, if not distant, nod before taking a few strides to his throne, next to Apollo and across the white marble floor from Aphrodite.
“How did it go?” Gertie whispered to Hector, who hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d emerged from the forge.
“I’ve never felt happier,” he said, his blue eyes bright. “My father has finally acknowledged me publicly and has given me more than a moment of his time. It’s a dream come true.”
“Oh, Hector.” Gertie squeezed his hand. “I’m really happy for you.”
“Thanks. Being here has made it easy for me to make a decision.”
Gertie tilted her head to one side. “What decision?”
“I want to be a god, and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to prove I’m worthy.”
Gertie’s mouth dropped open, and she felt like jumping up and down with joy. “What?”
“I know . . . I was against it before. I wanted a normal life, so I could give my kids a better childhood than the one I had. Now I know things don’t have to be the way they were with my mom—alienated from my father and from the other gods.” He circled his arm around Gertie’s waist. “We can be a part of this life here on Mount Olympus. We can be gods together.”
Gertie thew her arms around him. “Really?”
“Really.” He reached down and kissed her.
As much as Gertie enjoyed the kiss, she soon came to her senses and noticed that some of the Olympians were watching her. “I’ll make my acceptance conditional. If they want me to become the goddess of vampires, they’ll have to make you a god, too.”
Hector furrowed his brows. “What if they refuse?”
“They won’t, especially if your father speaks up for you.”
He kissed her once more, and, together, they made their way to his father’s side, to await the others.
After earning her Ph.D. in English and teaching writing and literature for over twenty years, Eva Pohler became a USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels in multiple genres, including mysteries, thrillers, and young adult paranormal romance based on Greek mythology. Her books have been described as “addictive” and “sure to thrill”–Kirkus Reviews.
Amphitrite has always lived in the shadows of her sisters, but the shadows are where she does her best work. Living two lives was always easy enough for the Goddess; from being a pirate ship captain chasing secrets instead of gold to an upstanding government official. She has worked alongside her spies and sirens for centuries, guarding both the sea and Halcyon.
But a war has started against the Titans, and the darkness taking over the sea is now more than she can handle alone.
West Murphy has been the golden heir all his life, making selfish choices and surrounding himself with disposable people. That was until the night an act of violence forever changed his life. Now, feeling betrayed by everyone he knows, he considers himself a hollow shell of a man with no true purpose.
Until a tsunami changes the tides of his fate forever.
Sirens and Leviathans is the second book in the Reign of Goddesses series.
Everything around West spun out of focus, Hera having light jumped them somewhere else.
An abrupt halt made his stomach turn, and he attempted to steady himself and his queasy stomach. A soft set of giggles had him standing to see where they had ended up.
A large, all white room with floor to ceiling windows looking out over Halcyon. Long strings of varying color hung from the walls. Three women sat in front of them: an elderly woman, a middle-aged woman, and a young woman. His mind put it all together.
The Fates. The Moirai, if they were to settle into the form of a singular sister that alternated between ages in a small space of time.
The young woman clapped her hands at the sight of them.
The Goddesses did not return her enthusiasm.
Persephone spoke first. “The sea is not getting better, even with two Titans and its Goddess,” she said.
“And for once, make yourself useful with something that actually makes sense. I am not above retiring you from the mortal realm,” Hera seethed, stepping in front of the group to face off against the Fates.
West observed carefully from where he stood between his father and Amphitrite, who swayed against him. He moved his arm around her shoulders to hold her firmly against his side. He was drained, but he needed to stay strong for her.
He could tell his father was drained as well by the way he leaned against the wall.
In fact, they all looked worn, even Persephone and Devon, who stood on Amphitrite’s other side.
“Your power is great but will not cure the water,” the young one sang out.
He was sure he heard someone grinding their teeth.
“Okay, let’s make this simple, since that is all you are capable of,” Hera growled. “What will cure the water?”
“It’s a bandage, but the infection is strong,” the middle-aged one told her.
“The rot is here and only when it is cut from the mortal plane will the water heal!” the oldest one yelled, a bit too loud for the room.
“What. Is. The. Rot. You. Old. Hags!” Hera seethed through her teeth. The room was suddenly way hotter than it had been when they first arrived.
All three of the women looked at West.
“Me? How?” he asked as the Goddesses all looked at him as well.
“Not you as you.”
“But who you could be.”
“Determines if the rot can spread.”
“Or if it will die.”
His eyebrows rose into his hairline. Who he could be? He suddenly understood why Hera was ready to tear into them as soon as they arrived.
“What does that mean? Who will I be?” he asked, looking at the others helplessly. He was begging for some clue he wasn’t the enemy in this story.
“Your story is twisty and cannot be told. There are paths to take that can lead to the demise and ruin of those who walk our plane, or you can bring to life those believed lost.”
He clenched his fists, his own temper rising.
“Cut the crap!” he snapped. Amphitrite started at the volume, jostling slightly at his side. He heard a clap of approval, probably from Hera. “Tell me how I can fix the sea, then, if it all lands on me!”
C.D. Britt began her writing journey when her husband told her she needed to use her excessive imagination to write stories as opposed to creating a daily narrative for him. Ever since she penned her first words, life has been a lot more peaceful for him.
She currently resides in Texas where she has yet to adapt to the heat. Her husband thrives in it, so unfortunately they will not be relocating to colder climates anytime soon.
Their two young children would honestly complain either way.
When she is not in her writing cave (hiding from the sun), she enjoys ignoring the world as much as her children will allow with a good book, music, and vast amounts of coffee (until it’s time for wine).
C.D. Britt is the author of Shadows and Vines and the upcoming book, Sirens and Leviathans.
Both books are part of the Reign of Goddesses series.
