Saturday, May 31, 2014

Balance of May

During the month of May, I reviewed the following:

Books:
- "Calling the Dead" by R.K.Marfurt. Read my review.
- "The Strange Will of J.W.Everett" by M.D.Meyer. Read my review.
- "The Last Confession of the Vampire Judas Iscariot" by David B.Vermont. Read my review.
Guest Author:
- David Vermont - "The Last Confession of the Vampire Judas Iscariot". See the post.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Book "The Last Confession of the Vampire Judas Iscariot" by David B.Vermont


About the Book: Of all the people who ever lived, surely Judas Iscariot, history’s most notorious betrayer, must be in hell. Or maybe not. After watching the crucifixion of Jesus, Judas despairs over what he has done and fumes that the Messiah he put his trust in has turned out to be just another pretender like all the rest. The toxic mix of emotions is too much for him to bear and Judas commits suicide by hanging himself.
He is restored to life by the Devil and made into a vampire apostle. The Devil teaches Judas to manipulate men and history. He becomes a king, a general, a teacher and a blacksmith, whatever is needed to effect the outcome of history and move it towards the goal of his new master.
Each time he is ready to move on to his next incarnation he must drink the blood of an innocent victim to be restored to his youthful vigor. But despite his many powers and abilities Judas knows there is one thing he desires and cannot have. Finally Judas meets a laicized priest, Raymond Breviary, and tries to steal from him what he was denied two thousand years before.

About the Author: David B. Vermont began writing when he was asked to author a series of articles explaining the Catholic faith on the popular blog 52 Prayers. He now writes regularly about his faith as the leader of an online Bible study group. The Last Confession of Judas Iscariot is his first foray into fiction.
He is also an attorney and accomplished litigator. He has a wife and four children and lives in Fairfax, VA. You can visit his website at www.davidvermont.com

Read the First Chapter!

CHAPTER 1 – THE CHAINED DOG “…God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son, has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go in peace.” – Words of absolution during the Sacrament of Reconciliation (Confession) of the Latin rite of the Church
The town of Ars, France, 1830
“Merci, Father.”
The women left the confessional, and the priest waited a few moments for the next person to enter.
A few minutes passed, and when no one did he realized his work for the day had come to an end. He got up and exited the confessional, bringing to a close what had been a very long day. He had started early in the morning, at sunrise, and had been hearing confessions for the past seventeen hours. It was now well past eleven and the church was darkened but not empty. He looked out over the church, felt a twinge of pride, and gave a soft small smile. His little parish church had grown since he first came here over twelve years ago. It had grown to become a destination for pilgrims. They traveled far and wide, from all corners of France and Europe, to visit the little church in the town of Ars, and even now, at the late hour, they lingered in its chapels, praying for healings or forgiveness or for loved ones who had passed on.
Father John Vianney felt his pride grow as he took in the sight of the devoted souls still keeping vigil even at the late hour. An instant later he quickly reminded himself that it was not he who had done all this and not to let his human pride get the better of him. It was not he who had built the church into a destination for believers. It was not he who had built up the church and the school. It was not he who worked miracles in Ars; it was God who had done it. Vianney had been but his instrument. He offered up a short prayer of thanksgiving and asked God for the grace to keep himself humble. He looked up at the ceiling of the church and smiled more broadly. He said a prayer of thanksgiving for the many blessings God had doled out onto the town of Ars, their little church, and the pilgrims that came here.
He took a spot in the front row of the church and knelt in the pew to say his evening prayers. He flipped through his prayer book, reading the daily office of prayers. He had prayed from this book every morning, afternoon, and evening since being ordained a priest. They were the same prayers that every priest across the world, from the pope to the deacon of the smallest parish, would say that day. At the end he asked God not for blessings of greatness, not for success or for miracles, but only that he receive the grace he needed to continue serving the people of Ars and to do God’s will. Once he was finished he got up and began his walk to the back the church. He was stopped numerous times by pilgrims asking for one last blessing. He refused no one a moment’s attention. He blessed rosaries, medals, and children. It took him almost another twenty minutes to reach the exit.
Father Vianney stepped out into the night. It was brisk but not too cold, and he could see his breath. The full moon rode high in the night sky. He could see stars in every direction. Again he thanked God, this time for the glory of creation. He brought his thoughts back to the place he always tried to go in his mind. He reminded himself that he was so small and so insignificant in the grand scheme of the cosmos. He considered himself an utterly simple man. Having barely been able to pass the course of study at seminary, he knew he could not understand all the things he saw around him.
To this day he still had only a rudimentary use of Latin. He had been such a poor student that when he was first ordained, he had not been allowed to do the very thing he had spent the last twelve hours doing: hearing confessions. In fact, it had been a minor miracle that he was ordained to the priesthood at all. It took a nationwide shortage of priests in France, the personal pleading of his mentor, and a leap of faith by the bishop to make it happen. Now here he stood, nearly twenty-odd years later, on the steps of his church in a growing parish as a priest.
He had been sent to Ars in his first assignment because the town was a small backwater, far from anything important, fallen into disrepair, and all but forgotten by the Church. He had been sent to Ars because it was assumed that was where the worst student in the seminary could do the least damage. As he looked up at the stars his heart filled with joy at how far he and the people of Ars had come. When he first arrived the town had almost completely rejected him. In fact, most of the townspeople had tried to drive him out because of his tough stances on drinking, gambling, and dancing. But slowly, through prayer, sacrifice, and persistence, he had won them over.
The church had grown. Chapels were added and a school was built. Eventually miracles started to occur. People were healed of illnesses. Quickly word had spread and the people began to come — a trickle at first and then more and more until it was a tidal wave. Vianney felt humble and small but also overjoyed and grateful. Of all the places in the universe, of all the people in the world, God had looked with favor on Ars. All his work, prayers, fasting, and thanksgiving was pleasing to God.
Vianney walked the short way up the street to the school, the second floor of which housed his small residence. In the courtyard a rough stout man stood waiting for him. “Good evening, Father,” he said.
“Good evening, Charles.”
“We’ve been watching all evening,” the man replied. “I haven’t seen anyone or anything. We will be here the rest of the night. You shouldn’t have any trouble.”
“I’m grateful to you and the others,” said Father Vianney. “At least with you here, I know that what I must face is inside the house and I am safe from assault by outside forces.”
“Father, I promise you no one will get into the house, but are you sure you don’t want anyone inside with you?”
Vianney looked down and nodded his head. “Yes, I’m sure. What goes on inside is for me to face. But, Charles, I will not be alone. I will have the Lord on my side.”
“It has been many years, Father; will it never end?”
“Who knows? Perhaps tonight will be the night it ends, but even still I cannot live forever.”
“Oh, Father, don’t say that! If something should happen to you while we are just standing outside…”
Father Vianney put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Charles, that’s not how I meant it. Nothing in there can hurt me physically. It is spiritual warfare I must engage in. I plan to live to be a very old man, but if I must suffer ghosts and spirits every night for the rest of my life in protection of the souls of Ars, then I happily accept my labors.”
At the mention of ghosts Charles quickly crossed himself. Father Vianney raised his right hand and, making the sign of the cross over Charles, said, “May the Lord bless you and keep you. May he protect you in your labors tonight as you keep watch over you, his humble servant. May he see that no harm comes to you. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Goodnight, Charles. Remember, under no circumstances are you to come inside. Just keep everyone else out. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Father Vianney entered the school. The classroom was in front of him, and to his right was a stairwell leading up to his residence. Turning, he closed and bolted the door. He leaned his head up against the door and whispered, “Dear Charles, if you only knew the truth of what I face in here in the evenings.” Then he turned and, speaking more loudly to the empty room, said, “Should I even try to go to sleep tonight?” There was a moment of silence and perfect stillness in the building, followed by the sound of heavy boots walking across the floor upstairs. “Ah, very well, so begins another night with my Grapon.”
Father Vianney proceeded up the stairs to his bedroom.
He entered his room and used a candle to light three lamps that were placed about the room. The light filled the small square room entirely. The room was sparsely furnished, containing only a bed, a table, a chest of drawers, a chair, and a crucifix that hung on the wall. Vianney looked around. Holding the crucifix that dangled from his neck with his left hand, he closed his eyes and made the sign of the cross with his right. Before opening his eyes he said aloud, “I grow tired of these trivial games. Get on with it. At least show me the courtesy of showing yourself.”
When he opened his eyes, there sitting on the chair in front of him was a French nobleman. He was dressed in fine but simple clothes: beige pants and a white linen shirt. Other than the slight frills on the cuffs and the embroidery, they were timeless clothes. His olive skin glowed with a soft tan hue in the candlelight. His jet-black hair was combed back and fell to shoulder length.
“Hello, John,” the nobleman said.
“Father, if you please,” said Vianney.
“Yes, well, not by much.”
“Please, is that the best you have for me this evening, my Grapon? I’ve long since given up any doubt that I am qualified to be a priest.”
“You wondered about it tonight though…didn’t you?”
Vianney laughed. “Only long enough to praise God for how far I’ve come.”
The devil looked away. He put his foot up on the bed and rocked back in the chair. He hesitated a moment and then announced, “I’ve got big plans for the people of Ars tonight. Drinking, fighting, perhaps even a rape or a murder…” He let the last word roll off his tongue and hang in the air.
“Well then, I will pray extra hard tonight for the townsfolk. I did want to get some sleep, but I guess it’s not meant to be.”
Vianney knelt at the foot of his bed and began to pray. The devil’s face turned stern and a look of anger spread across it. He pulled his foot from the bed and the chair slammed forward. Outside, Charles heard the sound and looked up at the window. The three lamps were extinguished by a gust of wind and Vianney’s room went dark. Lightning flashed across the sky and the thunder boomed, yet the night sky remained perfectly clear. Charles could hear loud noises and sounds like banging furniture coming from the upper floors. He made the sign of the cross and prayed. Vianney knelt at the foot of his bed, his Bible opened to a long passage he had marked. He began to read but he knew the passage by heart. He closed his eyes and continued to speak the words aloud. The devil stood by the bed over him. He closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate for just a moment. Without warning the floor of the room seemed to fall away. The wooden boards under Vianney and his bed dissolved away into a black charcoal-like rock. At the same time the walls evaporated like mist and the ceiling shot into the sky.
Vianney and his bed now stood at the flat crest of a small craggy hill. Nothing green grew anywhere. All around him as far as the eye could see were similar black rock hills. Each hill was separated from others by rivers of lava and fire. The red rivers gave the sky an orange hue, broken occasionally by black plumes of smoke.
Vianney started to sweat. His head rocked softly as he focused on repeating the words of the Bible and his prayers. He could feel the heat of the fires and lava around him, but it did not affect him adversely. Rather, the sweat came from the intensity of his effort as Vianney prayed for the deliverance of the people of Ars. The devil took a step closer to him and then sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and whispered into Vianney’s ear. “I know you can hear all the souls down here that are in my possession. Many of your precious townsfolk of Ars are already down here with me. Right now I am working on having a few more join me.” Vianney gave no indication he had heard the statement; he did not cease his prayers or react in the slightest.
The devil continued, “You know, I have servants in Ars. My spies are amongst you. Perhaps I should send them off to visit Catherine, the schoolmistress?” Still no response came from Vianney. “You know I am patient,” said the devil. “I have all eternity to work my plans. I wonder how you can be so patient while even right now my forces are loose about your precious little town…in the bar…in the bedrooms…” Still no response came from Vianney. The devil continued this tactic for some time then suddenly changed his demeanor. “I’ve had quite enough of your attitude, you stupid impertinent fool!”
In a flash, the devil jumped up on the bed, and as he did so his form changed instantly. Vianney did not see the change but he could feel it happen. The beast looked like a cross between a bear and a wolf and it landed hard on the bed, collapsing it underneath them. It had no fur, just brown leathery skin. The skin was covered in sores that bled openly. The beast snarled at Vianney, showing rows of yellow teeth. Blood pooled at the edge of its gums. Drool dripped from its mouth. The beast was in a rage, snarling incessantly at Vianney.
Vianney refused to respond or even acknowledge its presence, and soon the beast could not hold back its rage any longer and unleashed a roar. Hot breath wafted over Vianney, and the sound echoed throughout the landscape. The beast’s huge mouth gaped open over Vianney’s head as he continued to pray at the foot of the bed, but the creature did not close its mouth on Vianney. It lowered its head and a new growl began to grow in its throat. It brought its eyes close to the face of Vianney. At last Vianney opened one eye. He looked at the beast and said, “Do you mind? I’m busy.”
The animal flew into a rage. It crouched back on its haunches and leapt at Vianney, but just as it did so a collar instantly appeared around its neck. A chain that had not been there a moment ago jerked the beast back just before it reached its intended victim. The beast shook itself and got back up. It hesitantly started again toward Vianney. This time the priest opened both eyes and stared at the beast calmly. When it was one step away, Vianney said, “You are powerless over me and Ars. Go away!” He blew a short breath at the beast, like blowing out a candle. The beast flew back, dragged as if the chain had been jerked hard. It crashed into the rocks with a tremendous thud that echoed like thunder. It slid down the wall and lay motionless on the floor. Then the beast exploded into powder and a puff of black smoke.
Vianney closed his eyes again and made the sign of the cross. He opened his eyes and saw that he was back in his own room. Nothing had been touched or moved. The sun shone just over the hills, and the first light of the morning filled his room.
Vianney left the house; he had not slept, but despite being up all night praying he did not feel tired. When he came outside Charles immediately ran up to him, a look of dreadful worry on his face. “Father Vianney, are you all right? We heard terrible things last night. Banging and crashing and noises as if an animal was loose with you up there. The men wanted to enter several times but I kept them out. There are reports of strange things happening all over the town.”
“Dear Charles,” said Vianney, patting him on the shoulder. “I am fine. The Lord is my strength. No? You did well to keep the men out. For last night the battle for Ars was won.” Vianney could not contain his joy. He slapped Charles on the back and then made the sign of the cross. Charles immediately did the same. Seeing Vianney so happy, he quickly recovered his wits. “Now let us go to the church for morning Mass, and I will see to the townsfolk,” Vianney said.
As they walked the short distance to the church, from every door and path and street the people of Ars seemed to emerge. Soon almost the whole town was present. Each one shouted problems and fears and begged Vianney’s assistance. “Father, last night I heard a ghost in my cellar,” shouted one. “Father, last night the sheep would not be still…I fear there is a specter about,” said another. Vianney reached the steps of the church, climbed them, and stood in front of the door.
“Good friends, all will be well. Who can fear the night when we have the Lord as our companion? No specter or ghost has any power in Ars. Their master, the devil, he has no power here.” The crowd murmured. They wanted to believe the priest, but last night’s strange happenings had made them wary.
“What? You do not believe me? Why should you be afraid of the devil? He is but a chained dog! He is scary but not dangerous. He barks and makes noises in the night, but he cannot even come near you. We laugh at him! He goes about making a big show, but for what purpose? Is anyone here possessed? Is anyone here ill? No! To the contrary, people come to Ars to be healed, and the devil can’t stand it. Every night and every day we inflict pain on him! Now, let us go into the church for Mass.” Vianney turned and pulled wide the double doors of the church and led the crowd inside.
Across the street the blacksmith looked on. He already had his furnace burning hot. He watched the crowd make its way into the church. He turned, thinking he wouldn’t be caught dead in there. He pulled a poker from the fire, its tip glowing bright orange red. He tapped it with a heavy metal hammer, testing it. Then he hit it once, hard, making a loud clang. A delicious thought crossed his mind. He wished he could hold Father Vianney down on the anvil and hit his head with the hammer. He struck the metal again, imagining the desired scene and its result. The blacksmith could sense someone standing behind him. He knew immediately who it was. He stuck the poker back into the fire and turned around.
Just inside the doorway of the shop stood the devil, looking as he did when he first approached Vianney the night before—young, handsome, and wearing simple timeless clothes. “My friend, I share your frustration with these matters.”
“We have worked long and hard here, and he seems to have spoiled it all,” said the blacksmith.
“It is of no import. There are many battles, some are won and some are lost. He has had a victory here, but time is on our side.”
The blacksmith walked to the door. “Where are we going?”
“West,” said the devil. “Get your things; we are leaving this place.”
The blacksmith walked over to a cabinet. From it he took a small satchel, already packed, that he flung over his shoulder.
The devil smiled. “It is time you saw the new world of America.”
The man walked out of the blacksmith shop and down the road, taking nothing else with him.

My Review: This is a very well written book, the first work of fiction from this author, where he gives us a very interesting new approach to what could have happened to Judas Iscariot after he committed suicide, moments after seeing the person he betrayed (Jesus) being crucified. After he is dead, the devil transform him into a vampire, so he can be his disciple and start influencing people to do the wrong things, like torturing their enemies with the justification that pain cause purification. But living forever is far away from being a blessing. It is more like a curse to Judas. The narration starts in Ars, France, 1830, where Father Vianney is tormented by the devil. Judas is the blacksmith of this small town and the owner of the tavern, where all the male population meets after work to get drunk and have fun with young ladies. Through prayer Father Vianney refuses to give in to the devil and as the devil does not get new followers, he moves on to the next victim.
So the story goes back and forth in time, with Judas narrating to an laicized priest (Raymond Breviary) all his deeds in those two thousand years since he is working for the devil. How he worked in many different roles, being a king, a general, a teacher, whatever was needed to affect history and make a move in the direction of the goal of his master the devil. In order to move on to his next incarnation, Judas needs to drink the blood of an innocent victim to restore his youthful vigor. 
But nothing he does brings him what he wants most and what he was denied two thousand years before.
The whole idea of this book is superb and will keep you hooked till the last page is turned.
I recommend this book to the permanent library of any reader who wants to be entertained and educated in the power of Christian religion and principles.

If you read this review, feel free to leave a comment.  

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PUYB-Tour-Schedule-A

May 5
Book Spotlight and Chapter One Excerpt at Bluebell Books

May 6
Book Spotlight at Book Nook Nuts

May 7
Interview at Pump Up Your Book

May 9
Chapter One Review at Rebecca’s Writing Services

May 12
Interview at The Writer’s Life

May 13
Guest Post at Saphs Book Blog

May 14
Spotlight at Vampire Review


May 15

May 16
Interview at Literarily Speaking

May 20
Review at Gothic Moms

May 21
Chapter One Review at The Book Connection

May 22
Interviewed at Book Publishing Secrets

May 23
Guest Post at Hot Author Report

May 27

May 29

May 30
Book Spotlight and Giveaway at Mary’s Cup of Tea

June 6
Guest Post and Giveaway at Thoughts in Progress

June 20

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Book "The Strange Will of J.W.Everett" by M.D.Meyer

About the Book: Intrepid journalist Jared Blake makes an amazing discovery while researching the history of an 1870s estate built by reclusive silver baron, J.W. Everett. Upon his death, the silver baron's will names a child, to be born forty years in the future and who has no blood relationship to him, as his heir. How is that even possible? What bizarre motive would he have for doing so? As Jared works to solve the mystery surrounding the circumstances of the will, he finds that in the past others have investigated the estate, only to end up dead or in an asylum. What dreadful secret is the estate hiding? Could the rumors of a hidden treasure be true? Someone else, someone with a more sinister reputation, thinks they are and is determined to uncover the estate’s secret and find the treasure.

About the Author: M.D. Meyer is the pen name of Michael D. Meyer (1949 - ). Born in Pennsylvania, his family soon moved to the suburbs of Chicago, eventually settling in Evanston, Illinois, where he grew up, went to school, and on to college at Northwestern University. He graduated 1971 with a B.A. in History with a focus on Asian history. It was during these college years that he developed an intense interest in eastern philosophy, mysticism, and the paranormal, and read widely in those fields. Many of the books in the library of his fictional character, Nicholas Freeman, from his mystery novel, The Strange will of J.W. Everett, are books he actually read during and after his college years. After college he pursued his budding interest in computer technology, which developed into a forty year career in Information Technology. During this career he honed his writing skills by drafting IT strategic planning studies for medium and large sized companies. He retired in 2012. When he saw a library announcement for the November 2013 National Novel Writing Month, he was intrigued, and his current novel is the result.

My Review: This is a very entertaining reading, where the author develops a nice idea in a plot easy to follow and that keeps you reading eagerly to find out the mystery behind J.W.Everett and his state. Jared Blake is a journalist that since young age was fascinated with the state of J.W.Everett in his home town. Upon becoming a journalist, he decide to shot a movie on the story of the state and in order to do his movie he set a visit into the house to talk to the current owner. What from outside seemed to be almost an abandon house, as a matter of fact it is a very comfortable and very well decorated house from inside, hiding more secrets than the imagination can handle. A love story is resumed with the help of our journalist and the final explanation of the mystery is quite imaginative!
I recommend this book to the permanent library of any reader that wants to be entertained  for hours with a very well written story, that will hook you from the very first page.
I received an electronic copy from the author and I was not requested to provide a positive review. Opinion expressed here is my own.
If you read this review, feel free to leave a comment!

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Guest Author David Vermont - "The Last Confession of the Vampire Judas Iscariot"



My guest author David Vermont shares his best advice for aspiring authors. An attorney and accomplished litigator at one of Washington D.C.’s top law firms, Vermont began writing about religion when he was asked to author a series of articles explaining the Catholic faith on the popular blog 52 Prayers.  He now writes regularly about his faith as the leader of an online Bible study group. The Last Confession of The Vampire Judas Iscariot is his first foray into fiction. 

David: I was halfway through my first attempt on a different book when the story of Judas as a vampire kept invading my thoughts.  At first I resisted, what if I got halfway through Judas and then couldn’t finish?  Then I would have two books half done and nothing to show for it.  I put aside my other book and began writing The Last Confession of the Vampire Judas Iscariot.  It was the best decision I made.  Follow the voice inside your head.

About The Last Confession of the Vampire Judas Iscariot
Of all the people who ever lived, surely Judas Iscariot, history’s most notorious betrayer, must be in hell. Or maybe not.

After watching the crucifixion of Jesus, Judas despairs over what he has done and fumes that the Messiah he put his trust in has turned out to be just another pretender like all the rest. The toxic mix of emotions is too much for him to bear and Judas commits suicide by hanging himself.

He is restored to life by the Devil and made into a vampire apostle. The Devil teaches Judas to manipulate men and history. He becomes a king, a general, a teacher and a blacksmith, whatever is needed to affect the outcome of history and move it towards the goal of his new master.

Each time he is ready to move on to his next incarnation he must drink the blood of an innocent victim to be restored to his youthful vigor. But despite his many powers and abilities Judas knows there is one thing he desires and cannot have. Finally Judas meets a laicized priest, Raymond Breviary, and tries to steal from him what he was denied two thousand years before.


File Size: 604 KB
Print Length: 154 pages
Publisher: Koehler Books (April 15, 2014)
Sold by: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
Language: English
ASIN: B00J4GISH8



About David Vermont
Born and raised in New York City, David B. Vermont now lives in Alexandria, VA with his wife and four kids.
An attorney and accomplished litigator at one of Washington D.C.’s top law firms, he began writing about religion when he was asked to author a series of articles explaining the Catholic faith on the popular blog 52 Prayers.  He now writes regularly about his faith as the leader of an online Bible study group.

Feel free to leave comments or questions to the author!


Sunday, May 4, 2014

Book "Calling the Dead" by R.K.Marfurt

About the Book: Eusapia Palladino’s wretched childhood in a small Italian village, her evolution into one of Europe’s most successful mediums and her travels to France, England and America at the turn of the 20th century come alive in this gripping tale that spans literary, historical, feminist, occult and paranormal categories. Since Eusapia’s special powers spring from her relationship with her deceased mother, her story will fittingly be released on Mother’s Day.
In a period when the emergence of modern science calls into question long-held assumptions, and spiritualism fills a void caused by the resulting decline in traditional religious beliefs, Eusapia taps successfully into the new hopes and fears of her time.
Communicating with the dead is deeply personal for Eusapia. She survives the misery of her childhood only by holding on to her dead mother who died giving birth to her. For a poor but clever and independent girl without schooling, becoming a medium is one of her only means to get by in life and maybe even do well. With the help of influential spiritualists, Eusapia develops her powers. Her reputation soars and brings her to cities all over the world. She is sought out by famous people and investigated by renowned scientists and Nobel Prize winners like Charles Richet and Marie and Pierre Curie.
R.K. Marfurt’s novel explores Eusapia’s conflicted, not always savory, yet courageous journey through life and mediumship, as well as the multifaceted relationships of scientists and upper-class people with spiritualism and the dark séance rooms where peculiar and unexpected things happen.

About the Author: Growing up in a small, historic Swiss town where everyone knew each other’s business, R.K. Marfurt let the stories of its inhabitants, their joys, heartbreaks, quarrels, discontent and dreams fill her heart. They echo in her to this day. However removed her writing might seem from its origin — transformed through new experiences and locations, through education in different countries, through family and work life — early impressions rarely fade, and much living and writing is done in reaction to them. Her stories have appeared in American and Canadian literary journals.
Calling the Dead, the story of medium Eusapia Palladino, is R.K. Marfurt’s first novel. She has always been fascinated by psychics and fortune tellers, their motivations, self-perceptions and views of reality. That her main character is intricately connected to the academic milieu is no accident either, as R.K. Marfurt has a longstanding interest in academic research, her husband is an academic, and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada where she worked as an administrator dealt with academics and their research.
R.K. Marfurt lives with her husband in Ottawa, Canada. She has four children and six grandchildren.

My Review: This is a very well written book that tells the story of Eusapia Palladino, a famous medium that lived mostly in the 19th century in Naples, Italy. After an excruciating childhood, in order to have a way of living she learnt to develop her medium capabilities, through the established contact with her deceased mother, that died giving birth to her and guidance from other mediums and her relationship with a magician. The author was able to recreate all the atmosphere to count her story in a very vivid way, so we end up getting very much involved in the description of events, cheering for the success of our heroine. The book describes her struggles with relationships, her travels to England, France and America to be investigated by famous scientists like the Curie couple. Eusapia's successes and failures make us reflect on how much we want others to believe in our own stories, making us tell lies or to tell more or less than the reality, sometimes to comfort others, sometimes to comfort ourselves. Besides all séances, struggles and investigations, we have a love story that span for decades and although it develops in different directions, the love, care and dedication lasts till the end.
This is a very entertaining reading and I recommend it for the permanent library of any reader who appreciates an excellent novel and wants to get hooked from the beginning. It took me around 16 hours to read the whole book. I received a free copy from the author for reviewing and I was not requested to provide a positive review. Opinions expressed here are my own.

If you read this review, feel free to comment.