Monday, 3 March 2014



Release Date: February 10, 2014
Target Reader: Adult
Keywords: Urban Fantasy

BLURB supplied by J Taylor Publishing
Demon hunter Ty Burdin hung up his guns, knife, trench coat and fedora a year ago. Bags packed, hands washed of all demon politics, he’s done. Forever.
In fact, to get far far away, he dragged Nora, his rockabilly secretary, from Miami to the Tennessee mountains where he’s lived a life of peace—if peace can be defined as drowning in scotch and taking private eye jobs to keep the lights on. Jobs for real people. Not demons.
No demons.
He’s retired from that. Remember?
Demon hunters aren’t a dime a dozen, though, and when Ty’s brother asks him for a favor—just one—what’s a brother to do? Agreeing to take down one hillbilly demon shouldn’t take that long. In. Decapitate. Out. Favor complete. Back to the office where Nora and his bottle of whiskey are waiting.
Unfortunately for Ty, staying retired doesn’t seem to be in the cards, and an avalanche of bad luck draws him right back to an agency he despises and the career that nearly cost him his sanity.
This time, Ty has no way out and will have to face his own demons just to survive.


Alex lives in the tourist infested hills of east Tennessee with his amazing wife/muse and three superb children. He would tell you more about how awesome they are, but you probably wouldn’t believe him. When he’s not hanging out with them he’s making pizzas. When he’s not doing that he’s working at a bookstore and occasionally he jots a few words down. He’s a big fan of good music, good storytelling, and mixed martial arts.

He once wrote a short story about pirates to his wife via text message that blossomed into a full length novel and never stopped after that.


Do you work another job as well as your writing work?
Yes, I have two days jobs. I work at a pizza place and a bookstore/coffee shop.

What is the name of your latest book, and if you had to summarise it in less than 20 words what would you say?
Beasts of Burdin. Demons will die and you will laugh about it. Sounds grim, but it’s true.

Do you read all the reviews of your book/books?
Yup. Every last review I can find. How else can I find out what about my writing ticks people off and/or tickles their fancy?

What was the toughest/best review you have ever had?
I don’t know if I would call it a review, but the first critique partner I had for Beasts of Burdin took it pretty terribly. There is a lot of humor in the book and I guess we just don’t find the same things funny. I still fixed some of the things she pointed out, but I think she only made it about halfway through before suggesting I find another beta reader. She went her way and I went mine and I hope she found success. Really.

Would you ever ask a reviewer to change their review if it was not all positive about your book/books?
Nope. I’ve heard of other authors asking reviewers not to post a 1 or 2 star review, but I would like to think I would encourage them to post the bad review. In a perfect world I would prefer to not have a review that said, “This book is terrible, don’t waste your time”, but if the reviewer has problems with the book then they should share them. There is profanity in Burdin, if a reviewer said they didn’t like it because of the language, I can’t be mad at them.

Do you choose a title first, or write the book then choose the title?
I switch back and forth. Beasts of Burdin I knew the title before I even started outlining the novel, but the sequel, Burdin of Choice, I didn’t settle on until the day before I sent it to my publisher for proofreading.

Have you ever based characters on people you know or based events on things that have happened to you?
Yes. Intentionally and unintentionally. Usually I’ll borrow events from my personal life here and there, but I try not to copy any people I know. I did notice in my last read through before publication that one scene is very similar to a friend of mine and I hadn’t realized it. I guess it was just my subconscious taking over.

Which format of book do you prefer, ebook, hardback, or paperback?
Hardback. I’m a collector of things and they just look so darn good on my bookshelf.

Is there anything in your book/books you would change now if you could and what would it be?
Absolutely, but I have no idea what. It doesn’t matter how many times I read my books, I will want to change something when I read it again. I think it’s an author’s curse because most of us are like that, I think.

What do you think about book trailers?
I think they are a little silly, unless they are airing on network TV. I need one of those guys for my next book. 


Chapter 1 

“Ty Burdin! Answer the phone already. It’s your brother.” The voice comes from the next room in a tone usually used by stress-fried mothers, not twenty-something-year-old receptionists. The harsh words crack through my whiskey-soaked brain like someone snapped a bullwhip in my ear. I pick my head up off the desk and wipe the drool from my mouth, as she bursts in the door. 

“He’s adopted, and good morning,” I say, opening the drawer to my desk and digging through it. 

“It’s not morning. It’s past noon, you lazy drunk.” Her tone is accusing, but there’s a slight smile to her ruby red lips. I really do think Nora gets enjoyment from trying to keep me in line. Her rockabilly style, all tattoos and polkadots, might scare some people off, but honestly, I think it’s kind of cool. 

“Fine, I was wrong about the time, but you’re wrong, too,” I say. 

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?” Nora kicks her hip to the side and props a hand on her leopard print skirt. 

“I’m not drunk. I’m hungover.” I pull out a flask full of scotch and take a long drink. “I’m working on getting back on track, though.” I tip the flask toward her. 

“I swear someone’s gonna find you in a ditch one day.” Her voice has a trace of concern, but it’s mostly drowned out by annoyance. 

“In my line of work, that’s almost a guarantee. Now, can you tell me why you disturbed my ugly sleep?” Ugly sleep is a gross understatement. No amount of alcohol ever seems to drown out the vision of the young, innocent girl burned into my memory. The scene is even more ominous in my dreams than it was in real life. 

A thunderclap breaks the silence of my memories. Nora stares down at me, hands stuck together. “Wake up, drunkard. Hartnet’s been trying to reach you on the phone for the past fifteen minutes.” 

The pocket of my jacket buzzes, probably been ringing the entire time. Nora walks over to where it hangs by the door and withdraws the phone. “Jesus, Ty. You’ve got four missed calls, ten new messages, and over twenty emails. Do you ever check this thing?” 

“No.” I have the phone, but honestly, I hate it. 
Nora sets the still ringing phone on my desk, puts her hands on her hips and, using only facial expressions, guilts me into picking up. 

“Hello,” I say into the phone that smells of smoke. I use my free hand to dig out cigarettes and a lighter. 

“Ty! Finally, man, where you been?” Hartnet asks. 

“Oh, you know me. I just got back from hiking the Swiss Alps with Edmund Hillary.” 

“Real funny, Ty, but I imagine you’ve been spending more time with Jim or Jack.” 

“God, no, I hate southern whiskey,” I say. “I prefer a fine scotch, Macallan to be specific.” 

“You prefer whatever’s in front of you as long as there’s a proof label on the bottle,” Hartnet says. 

I don’t have any argument for that. “So, what do you want?”


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