Ten for the Devil - Novel (WIP)

Welcome to my new Blog site.  The other did not have the necessary space to grow.  Here is hoping that this one will be informative, interesting and you will come back to see me again and again.

My title comes from a 1600 century poem called a "Murder of One" author unknown.  We have all heard parts of the poem but never knew it all or where it came from.  When we saw a murder of crows we would start counting same and recite the verse but would stop after three or four. This is one version of this poem - there are many:

One for sorrow

Two for mirth

Three for a wedding

Four for a birth

Five for silver

Six for gold

Seven for a secret not to be told

Eight is for Heaven

Nine for Hell

and Ten for the Devil's Own Self

 





The last line stayed with me for a long time until I decided to make it the title of my first novel "Ten for the Devil" a Historical Suspense - Murder Fiction.  The story starts in England but will climax in the City of St. John. (in 1860's Saint John was spell such) during the "Great Fire of the City of St John June 20,1877.  While the city is burning my antagonist and hero's lives will collide.  Seth Shaw is a murder - Michael McLaughlin is our hero.  As a servant boy on Seth's father estate in England, Michael watched Seth murder a young girl.  The story is about their lives intertwining and the damage evil and obsession can do.  PS - I do have quite a few characters but I murder a few off.

Excerpt from a Chapter - Black Communion:

Seth kicked his horse into a run down the remaining trail.  His hair, hands and clothing coated in blood and bone fragments.  His nose took in the meaty smell of blood running down his face.  A slow moving line of blood dripped down over his cheek and onto his lips.   His tongue darted out carefully catching the drops before they ran further.  Savouring the taste of his brother’s blood on the roof of his mouth, Seth whoosh it around through his teeth and cheeks as if he was sampling a fine glass of wine.   Seth closed his eyes before swallowing.  A sweet atypical smile crossed his face and a bone nerve-jangling thrill ran down his spine.  For the first time since Zach’s murder, he felt the shock of his actions.  No moral or spiritual reflection I can assure you. 

It was as if all boundaries between Seth and his body evaporated.  He could see himself standing off to the side watching his physical body strike his brother continuously.  A wild spirit that he knew was his inched closer and stood with Zach; feeling and rejoicing with each glorious smash of the iron horseshoe ripping, tearing strong muscle and bone.  Their cheeks were side by side.  Zach’s tears, and unanswered pleads he could now feel as if they were his own.  Seth was sick to his stomach and stopped his steed to retch up his breakfast in the tall grass.  The joy when spirit and body reconnected was over-whelming.   He felt his body; its arousal was a shocking side effect.