About This Book
The epic conclusion to the first Tarimain series
The only thing worse than dying is never having it as an option. The Tarimain, the immortal soldiers of God, tasked with fighting on the front lines of the eternal war, uncover a dark demonic plot to raise an army. Atharron, a four thousand year old former ruler of Calnis; Sarah, apathetic, but determined to do her duty; and Luke, a young Tarimai discovering the wonders and burdens of immortality. Together, they make their way through the first half of the twentieth century on the trail of a Great President of Hell and the mysterious Man with the Eyes. Plymouth, England - Cologne, Germany, 1941 The world is at war again, a vampire army is marching forwards, and the Shrine that must be kept shut, has been opened. The Earth is falling into chaos and decay. Luke leads an army of ghosts, Atharron duels a demon, and Sarah travels to the heart of the turmoil to repair the fissure between fantasy and reality. 
The tenth Chronicle in the Tarimain series. ~8400 words Naomi stepped towards her god. In the darkness, his fiery eyes glowed; within them she witnessed Sifellon growing in strength and straining against his shackles. The massive cathedral slowly brightened in the glow of hundreds of candles and Naomi was now able to see John Harrison, kindly smiling, ‘Thank you, my dear,’ he said to her. Naomi fell into his arms and he caught her, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out sooner.’ ‘It’s alright,’ John said, stroking her hair. ‘It’s just, you didn’t tell me much about the spell. I had to research it and make sure I did everything right.’ ‘You did it all admirably.’ He gently pushed her back and looked at her, ‘I see you’ve mastered the art of appearance.’ She brushed her hair back and felt the lies on her face. She was only forty, but a couple of shallow wrinkles had appeared in the last year or so. She laughed lightly at his observation, ‘Covering the ageing up is a simple matter, but that doesn’t prevent me from knowing it’s there.’ ‘When the time comes, you won’t have to worry about it.’ Naomi smiled, ‘So did the spell work, is there now a doorway to Heaven?’ John looked away and shook his head, ‘I was interrupted. I can feel the energy in this place, and for miles around. It’s not right.’ ‘Something’s happened though.’ ‘What?’ Naomi took his hand and led him down the aisle. From outside came the muffled sounds of John’s failed mission. He looked around, hearing it for the first time, then he turned to her with a questioning look. Naomi smiled as she opened the giant front doors. Outside, houses burned, or melted. Roads ran like rivers, some with water, some like molten rock. People screamed as they ran from centaurs or giants. Alien spaceships flew through the sky, targeting houses. An army led by Napoleon fought off a pack of huge wolves. The clouds rolled through the sky, marbling the heavens with red, black, and grey, and on one of the domineering spires of the cathedral, perched an enormous black dragon being ridden by a boy no older than ten. The dragon roared, sending flames a hundred feet outwards. ‘Welcome,’ Naomi said, ‘to Heaven on Earth.’
