Guest Post and Excerpt by Tim Marquitz, Author of To Hell and Back

In my two and a half years of blogging, I was lucky enough to meet and work with many wonderful people, but few of them are as kind and pleasant as Tim Marquitz (altough I'm sure he'll hate me for revealing this about him). I've been a fan of his Demon Squad series for years now, so when he decided to release To Hell and Back, I jumped at the chance to help him spread the word.

Welcome to The Nocturnal Library, Tim!

To Hell and Back features the first three Demon Squad novels (Armageddon Bound, Resurrection, and At the Gates) alongside Betrayal (a lead in short to At the Gates) and the never before released Demon Squad short stories A Hell of a Way to Die (featuring the origin of Chatterbox ) and The Great Brain Robbery (featuring Frank in the Wild West.)

Frank “Triggaltheron” Trigg has lived in the shadow of Lucifer his entire life, but now that God and the Devil have abandoned Earth, Frank’s been left to his own devices, which is never a good thing.

The supernatural world’s punching bag, Frank must hold the line between mankind and the paranormal elements bent on staking their claim in the absence of divine rule.

Humanity is so screwed

Writing the Demon Squad is a guilty pleasure for me. I get to throw convention out the window, political correctness right along with it, and just write without the pressure of wondering how people will react. The main character, Frank “Triggaltheron” Trigg is a flawed being, and he revels in it. There are no apologies for his lewdness, for his acerbic tongue, or for the hate or love he eschews. He is who he is, having made peace with that.

As a writer, I’ve made peace with it, too, and that’s the best part. I get to step into the role and let loose, running amok with whatever comes to mind. It’s a freedom that resonates with me, and I hope with the reader as well. The Demon Squad isn’t a moral treatise on life or some philosophical examination of failed humanity. No, it’s all about entertainment, the roller coaster that makes your nether regions clench yet you still keep climbing aboard.

And I’m glad to have you. Welcome to the ride.

Excerpt from The Great Brain Robbery

Night had caught up to us a good ways north of where Mika and I’d met the freakish foursome. The two brothers talked pretty much non-stop the entire way. Big Red chuckled along as though he were three hides short of a teepee. May Lin held her silence and didn’t so much as give me a quick peek past her flowing robes. She could have been an animate head and a pair of pale hands for all I could see. It was a disappointing ride with only manly Indian boobs on display.

Clay had called a halt to the ride after he’d found a deep ravine along our path, leading us down its winding path until we were obscured from the land above. He and his brother had scavenged some tinder and started a small fire. The light breeze whistling through the crevice dispersed the smoke and scattered it long before it reached the top of the ravine. Folks would have to stumble right onto us to know we were even there.

Once we’d settled in, Clay tossed me a hunk of jerky and a chunk of stale bread. “T’ain’t much, but it’s better than starvin’, right?”

I couldn’t agree more, thanking him with a nod. Everything I’d brought to Earth with me had been left back in Bisbee. Cletus came up alongside me and dropped a satchel at my side.

“Ol’ Ciepher seemed ta think you might need more help than most folks we work with.” He motioned to the bag with his chin. “Packed you a goody bag, he did.” A big grin split Cletus’s lips. “Guess he was right, huh?”

Unktowa hur, hurred in the background while he shoved handfuls of bread into his mouth. My only hope was that he wasn’t the brains of the operation. Speaking of boobs, I glanced around to find May Lin. She was nowhere to be found.

Clay caught me looking. “Don’t you fret about little Miss Lin, there. She can take care of herself.”

“Last stud who tried to mount her got a slant-eyed makeover from his throat down to his almond sack,” Cletus added with a laugh.

Mika gave me an I told you so look.

“That’s not what I was thinking about.” It was exactly what I’d been thinking about. “So, since Lou didn’t let me in on the specifics—” he rarely ever did—“what’s the plan?”

I knew the job was to hunt down a relic that had been stolen from my uncle a while back. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but he was sure I’d know it when I saw it. Lou was all about being cryptic and not letting me know more than he felt comfortable with, which was usually not very much. He’d hired the goons because he wasn’t certain I could handle the small time wizard—Alton Mares—who’d snatched his shit. It was kind of depressing how little faith my uncle had in me.

Not that I deserved any, but still, that’s not the point.

“Ciepher got word that Mares would roll past Tombstone, taking the railroad into California where he supposedly has some hotshot ready to buy the loot.”

“So we take him down when he stops in Tombstone?”

Unktowa grunted something that sounded like amusement, crumbs turning into tiny stars as they hit the campfire.

“Well, you see, Mares won’t be taking no chances,” Clay told me, waggling a finger. “He ain’t planning on stopping at all. Not till he gets where he’s going.”

The words sank into my ears like a cell mate’s profession of love. “We’re taking down the train?”

“See, Cletus? He ain’t half as slow as Ciepher made him out to be.”

I slunk against the ravine’s dirt wall as the group chuckled, Mika covering his mouth to keep me from seeing him joining in.

“Best get some sleep, boy,” Clay said, grinning. “We got a long ride ahead tomorrow that’ll put us right in the crosshairs of our targets come about sundown. Won’t be no sleep for a while after that unless it’s a dirt nap.”

“And don’t you go wandering off. That sweet little Chinee might cut your rooster off ‘fore she reckons it’s you,” Cletus added. He laid down with a laugh. “Sweet dreams. We got a train to catch.”

Unktowa grinned and fell asleep where he sat while the Brothers Dim settled in. Mika curled up nearby and caught my eye. He smiled.

“If you get cold, snuggle with fire.” He pointed at his ass. “This Happy Hunting Ground not for pale skins.” The guide rolled over and promptly started to snore.

I sighed again, and then once more to make sure anyone listening realized how aggrieved I was. Passive aggressive whining done, I snuggled up to the wall, dragged my bag over to use as a pillow, and went to sleep with visions of scalps floating in my head.

Thanks, Tim!
To Hell and Back is available now on Amazon.