Spells for the Dead by Faith Hunter Blog Tour and Excerpt

@hunterfaith Spells for the Dead #giveaway #excerpt #blogtour  

About Spells for the Dead:

Nell Ingram faces a dark craft known as death magic in the newest pulse-pounding paranormal procedural in the New York Times bestselling Soulwood series.

Nell Ingram is a rookie PsyLed agent, using the powers she can channel from deep within the earth to solve paranormal crimes. Together with her team, she's taken on the darkest magic and the direst foes. But she'll need to tap into every ounce of power she has for her newest case.

Nell is called to the Tennessee mansion of a country music star and finds a disturbing scene—dead bodies rapidly decaying before everyone's eyes. The witch on her team, T. Laine, knows this can only be one thing: death magic, a rare type of craft used to steal life forces. PsyLed needs to find this lethal killer fast. But when a paranormal-hating FBI agent tries to derail the investigation, they find themselves under attack from all sides.

About Faith Hunter:

Faith Hunter is the award-winning New York Times and USAToday bestselling author of the Jane Yellowrock, Soulwood, Rogue Mage, and Junkyard Cats series. In addition, she has edited several anthologies and co-authored the Rogue Mage RPG. She is the coauthor and author of 16 thrillers under pen names Gary Hunter and Gwen Hunter. Altogether she has 40+ books and dozens of short stories in print and is juggling multiple projects.

She sold her first book in 1989 and hasn’t stopped writing since.

Faith collects orchids and animal skulls, loves thunderstorms, and writes. She likes to cook soup, bake bread, garden, and kayak Class II & III whitewater rivers. She edits the occasional anthology and drinks a lot of tea. Some days she’s a lady. Some days she ain't.

Find Faith online at -

Website: www.faithhunter.net

Facebook (official): https://www.facebook.com/official.faith.hunter

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/faith.hunter?fref=ts 

Twitter: @hunterfaith

Yellowrock Securities website: http://www.yellowrocksecurities.com  

Gwen Hunter website: www.gwenhunter.com

Tour-wide Giveaway!

Enter to win some fabulous prizes! Giveaway is open to US residents only.

• $25 Amazon or B&N e-giftcard 
• 3” wide armband
• 1.5” narrow armband

Excerpt

An older, pudgy cop standing inside the door stopped me and I had to go through the entire show-and-tell of my ID again. “Not that I mind,” I said mildly, “but why all the security?”

“Sheeee-ut. A purdy little media photographer in a doctor’s coat made it through the kitchen earlier, following the coroner.” Lips pursed between his chubby cheeks, he compared my face with my official ID and my driver’s license. He shook his head and returned my IDs. “She looked even younger than you do. He-yell, she even had an official-looking ID pinned to her doctor’s coat. Switching her ass at me and smiling like she belonged here. The broad was inventive, I’ll give her that. But I got my ass chewed, so full ID protocol it is.” He lowered his voice, checking my name off a paper on a clipboard. “The sheriff’s my cousin or I’d be in real trouble. You’re on the list,” he finished. “They’re down the hall.” He handed me a handful of plastic-wrapped candy. “Here. You’ll need these. Extra-strong mints.”

“Oh. Thanks.” That was ominous. Mints were used in crime scenes where the bodies had been dead a while, to combat the stench and control the nausea that came from dealing with them. I shoved the mints into my pocket. I was pretty sure the sheriff’s cousin was checking out my backside as I moved through the high-end kitchen toward the hallway. And yep, when I looked back, I caught him eyeing me. I’d been ogled by churchmen since I was ten, and had little patience with it. I really wanted to smack him with my badge, but that might make waves. I had to be on more professional behavior than I sometimes wanted to be, or knew how to be. I hadn’t been a special agent for long and acting like one wasn’t second nature to me. I frowned at him, but he just grinned, unrepentant and probably thinking he was cute, or that giving me mints gave him the right to leer.

The kitchen and gathering room struck a chord of lust in my heart, the sin of covetousness the churchmen always talked about. Thinking about my own home and the discord waiting for me there, I turned down the spacious hallway with natural plank flooring and wide doorways. At the end, near the staircase, the stench of death hit me and I slowed. The smell circulated on the air, ripe, foul, sickly sweet. As if they didn’t smell it, there were clumps of chatting LEOs—law enforcement officers—uniformed, plainclothes, and one member of my team. Occam looked up, wearing his cop-face expression, and my heart gave a little jolt of joy.