By Stephen Paul Sayers
An ancient evil has returned... and it comes for the children.
A battle between good and evil rages across otherworldly dimensions. Caretakers protect earthly souls--jumpers hunt them as prey. RG and Kacey Granville have made it their life's mission to intercept and defeat these dark forces, but nothing could prepare them for the malevolent spirit they're facing--a deadly jumper, plucking children from their homes, taking them back in time to a hidden corner of the past...
... adding them to his collection.
In a heart-stopping trek across time, the team must risk it all and jump seventy years into the past to rescue the innocent--and hope their mission isn't a one-way ticket into history. And if they're to save the children, they must halt an unspeakable evil that will stop at nothing to protect its 'precious' souls.
The second installment in the Caretakers Series, The Soul Dweller brings every child's nightmare to life and puts a face to that monster in the closet.
Pick up A Taker of Morrows (Book One) for $0.99 on Amazon, Nov. 26 only!
About the Author
As a research scientist, Stephen yields to the left-brain world of data analysis and statistics by day, but releases the demons in his slightly twisted right-brain by night. It gets strange around dusk when neither side is fully in control. He makes his home in Columbia, MO and Plymouth, MA—not far from the Cape Cod locations he writes about in the Caretakers novels. Throughout his journey, he has accumulated five guitars, four herniated discs, three academic degrees, two dogs, and one wife, son, and daughter. But not necessarily in that order.
For more about the author, visit https://www.stephenpaulsayers.com or reach out on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stephenpaulsayers;
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/SayersAuthor; or
On Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07K1P2ZLL
You wonder sometimes. About a face.
Someone passing you on the street, in the subway or airport, a face you’ve never laid eyes on before and will likely never see again.
So many different ones, with welcoming eyes, maybe an intimidating scowl…or a false smile, a distracted glance, a courteous nod, a lustful once-over.
A face can communicate some things…but not everything. No face reveals the true world lurking behind it. It hides things no one could ever see.
No one but Robert Granville, that is. “RG” could see it all.
The thoughts of unsuspecting strangers streamed through their well-constructed facades and into RG’s mind like blinding sleet in a winter storm. Their truths…well, don’t you look like shit today, honey…their sins…you still have time to hide the body where no one will ever find it…their pleas for help…don’t let him track me down again. Don’t let him find me here, please God…
Who would have guessed looking into RG’s face that he sheltered some of the darkest secrets of the universe behind his brown eyes and kind smile, secrets nobody could possibly fathom.
Who would have guessed that he had discovered a battle between good and evil raging outside life’s boundaries, one determining the fate of earthly souls, where ‘caretakers’ protect the living and ‘jumpers’ hunt them as prey; that his loving wife, Kacey, could glimpse the future in her dreams and change it, and transport herself into otherworldly dimensions; that his long-dead father and caretaker, Morrow, had saved him from a collision course with a ruthless and vengeful jumper from the afterlife.
No one could glimpse that in his face.
RG stared at the familiar curves and lines reflecting in the bathroom mirror as he braved another day, another chance to mull over the abrupt, life-altering events that had upset his world, turned him upside down and inside out, and redefined his life. And he was nowhere near wrapping his head around it. Life had tried to settle back into some variance of normal, the entire last year shifting him back to a steady acceptance of lost ground, unfavorable notoriety, and the need to claw his way back out of the trenches.
Shuffling into the bedroom, RG ran a hand through his thick hair to flatten it down, what Kacey lovingly called his wavy brown garden of weeds, then stretched through a silent yawn. He
paused a moment and traced his wife’s face and body contours with an appreciative gaze, part of his waking ritual he had yet to kick. With a spate of freckles across her nose and a river of near-auburn hair spilling over tan shoulders, Kacey Granville could send his heartbeat rocketing with a simple glance, or laugh, or a million other things she drew from her arsenal to paralyze his senses. And each passing day brought with it something different, something else to trip the switch and increase the palpitations. If a cardiologist wired him up and monitored him throughout the day, the wild swings in rhythm would force the doc to send for an ambulance before he had finished his first cup of morning coffee.