Was it a Spirit, a Monster, or a Sorcerer?

Ah, yes. Sometimes these rural simpletons bore me. Concerning the slaughter of birds and bunnies, these are my findings: The following day we accompanied Forrest to the fortified steel cages were he had cleverly placed the stricken rabbits. They were strong cages, but the sight that presented itself was one of horror. My werewolf companion began to slather with a mix of anger, and I suppose hunger.
One of the rabbits was flayed and headless near the outer cage door. Another was headless within the cage, while another was high up on a shelf where the unfortunate late pigeons used to perch. Its liver lay next to the mangled body. None of the animals had been consumed properly, proving that it was a killing for malicious reasons alone.
“What sort of magic is this?” Forrest screamed in frustration before vomiting. “How is it that the cage door is securely locked, yet the rabbits are dead?”
I looked and saw that indeed, the cage was soundly locked, but I smelled no sorcery. Then I saw it. “Observe,” I said. “The creature crawled through the feeder and into the cage. It had to be long and quite skinny.”
“How did it get the large rabbits out of the cage?” he asked.
“Hmm…” I mused to myself. “Perhaps it broke their bones.”
Tigran roared and began to roll in the carrion. I was not in the mood to think about the subtleties of animal husbandry. “I will ask my minion to guard the animals,” I offered, pointing to Tigran.
Forrest shook his head. “That monster will eat the rest of them—I’m sure of that.”
“That is my offer. He will refrain from eating the rabbits, ducks, and chickens. I will allow him to eat one large Wal-Mart shopper before the night comes. Although it is certain to contain much of the dreaded cholesterol, he can digest it well,” I assured him.
“Well, okay, then. Just make sure it is an evil person,” he grumbled. I smiled and patted the werewolf’s red fur. It made a series of purring roars.

Psamtik's Mother--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The work done for the day, Matwa went to Psamtik, the pharaoh-to-be’s quarters. The wretch’s mother had called him. Psamtik was asleep in his mother’s arms. He slept naked and his mother looked fondly at his skinny, angular body. His shiny shaved head showed off many bumps and irregularities. He had had an erection in his sleep and she stroked it down gently. Matwa stood a while and finally cleared his throat, causing Psamtik to stir and grit his teeth, making an awful grinding sound. The woman looked up and smiled proudly as she slipped out of the bed.

“Matwa, how are the arrangements for his ascension progressing? I feel that the priesthood is not very enthusiastic about my son’s coronation, and I want to know that the army will be loyal.” She paced silently. “At least we have you, Matwa. I’m sure you can control the other priests.”
Matwa nodded, “Yes Your Grace, I will do my best. Every thing is going as planned.”

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-sorcerers-secret-5/

{WARNING} Contains scenes of extreme violence that may be offensive to some readers. Fire—dreams of Fire—visions of Fire. Where do they come from? Aryazate doesn’t know why, but he fears the power secretly growing in him. Am I a demon, or a sorcerer? Kavada, the blacksmith, seems to be the only one he can trust, but even he doesn’t know the extent of Aryazate’s secrets. What would he say if he found out that the beautiful maiden Aryazate, is really a young man forced by circumstances to conceal this truth, which day by day becomes more evident? Just when he thinks Kavada is ready to hear the truth, Aryazate’s worst nightmares become reality. The Head-Mage Monushir accuses him of sorcery and has him imprisoned. What will this trial reveal? Is the truth so horrible that Aryazate will welcome torture and death by fire—by the same fire that haunts his dreams?

Still Waters: Novel by KB Forrest

http://www.extasybooks.com/still-waters-5/

Charlie Stillwaters thinks Yoshifumi Murakami is cuter than a sack full of puppies, even after he learns of his connections with the notorious Japanese Yakuza mob, and the fact that he’s so mean that if a rattlesnake struck him five times, it’d die. There is something Charlie just has to have. He’s bad after Yoshi – he’s as hot as a billy-goat in a pepper patch, but will they live to do it … or will they die and become haints of the worst sort? With the New Orleans-based mob hot on their tails, and suspicions mounting, Yoshifumi is forced to pair up with Charlie, who insists that he can “learn him plain an’ fittin’ American,” and who thinks ‘possum in the half-shell, a.k.a. road-kill armadillo, is good eatin.’

The Demon of Death

As I am a historian of ancient cultures, I know the intricacies of the belief systems too. In the Sorcerer’s Secret, which was set in ancient Persia, I found it difficult to convey the ordinariness of the belief in the Demon of Death. People believed that when a person died, a demon immediately possessed the body. The demon was stronger in relation to how good the person had been in life. In other words, the more virtuous a person, the stronger the demon. Why? The Avesta, the Zoroastrian scripture explains that the demons can’t attack a good person while he or she is alive. They want a person’s soul, but at the time of death, a good person is taken to Heaven. When the demons eagerly enter the body, they find it empty, and like an enemy army that lays siege to a city and then finds that the king has escaped, they rage about in anger. When the demons enter the body of a bad person, they find the soul, the “king,” and they are satisfied.

Dead bodies were thought to be teeming with evil spirits. The Demon of Death was so powerful that it could enter the body of a living person who approached or touched a dead body. The only way to stop it was by the use of specially trained dogs. Dogs had the power to dispel the demon by their vision. This was called “sag-did,” being seen by a dog. Persians believed that dogs had an extra set of eyes by which they could see demons and cast them out. I will write more about dogs later.

The body thus teeming with evil, could not be buried into the earth, or burned by fire, as these were holy elements. Instead, they were placed on the “Towers of Silence,” or daxmas, elevated platforms where hundreds of vultures waited to devour the flesh of the dead. This could be accomplished in a matter of minutes, depending on the number of birds. Being accustomed to feedings of human flesh, these birds waited expectantly. I have actually seen this sight and believe me, it was quite like I described it in my book. Again, truth can be stranger than fiction.