Blog Tour (Guest Post, Review, & Excerpt): Beasts of Burdin by Alexander Nader

Release Date: February 10, 2014
Target Reader: Adult
Keywords: Urban Fantasy


Demon hunter Ty Burdin hung up his guns, knife, trench coat and fedora a year ago. Bags packed, hands washed of all demon politics, he’s done. Forever. 

In fact, to get far far away, he dragged Nora, his rockabilly secretary, from Miami to the Tennessee mountains where he’s lived a life of peace—if peace can be defined as drowning in scotch and taking private eye jobs to keep the lights on. Jobs for real people. Not demons.

No demons.

He’s retired from that. Remember?

Demon hunters aren’t a dime a dozen, though, and when Ty’s brother asks him for a favor—just one—what’s a brother to do? Agreeing to take down one hillbilly demon shouldn’t take that long. In. Decapitate. Out. Favor complete. Back to the office where Nora and his bottle of whiskey are waiting.

Unfortunately for Ty, staying retired doesn’t seem to be in the cards, and an avalanche of bad luck draws him right back to an agency he despises and the career that nearly cost him his sanity.

This time, Ty has no way out and will have to face his own demons just to survive.


Beasts of Burdin on GoodreadsAmazonB&N, and Kobo 
Alexander Nader’s Website


Guest Post

Tips for Fighting Demons from Alex Nader

Hey, everybody. So Jen has asked me to drop in and give you all the lowdown on fighting demons. Demon hunting is pretty serious business and not something just anyone can do. So remember, these are worst case scenario tips here. I would not, repeat, WOULD NOT go seeking out a demon to slay. They are scary and 
evil and generally have bad breath.

First thing to know is: holy artifacts, incantations, whatever else are all useless. Demons don’t really come from hell, they come from your head and the demons in your head aren’t at all concerned with what the power of Christ is compelling. So holy water, crucifix, rosary, altar, etc should all be left at home.

Let’s stick with obvious weapons choices here. I mean, a grenade would be a lot of help, but not everyone can get their hand on those babies. So, next obvious choice: omelets. Wait, no, we’re talking demons, not breakfast. I get distracted sometimes, but really, omelets are so good. Some cheese, a little hot sauce, and 
veggies…I’m rambling.

Okay, phew, back on point. Obvious choice: guns. Yes, guns will slow down your average demon. There aren’t many things out there that are oblivious to grape-sized pieces of metal lodging themselves inside their flesh. So yes, if you have a gun open fire like it’s St. Patrick’s day and you are firing off warning shots toward green beer haters. Wait, I hate beer. No, please, don’t shoot at me…

Sorry, sorry. Won’t happen again, I promise.

This is the point where you’re asking yourself, ‘What the hell can I do to stop a demon?’. I’ll tell you what the hell you can do, cut its head off. Decapitation kills everything. It’s a motto those in the demon hunting business live by. Bullets, arrows, fire, repeated groin shots: all these things can slow a demon down, but if you really want to end the thing, you have to take its head off. Well, of course it’s grim, we are talking about hunting demons. What did you think I would say, buy it some ice cream?

Thanks so much for the Alex! I'll be sure to go for the head if I ever come across a demon. Who am I kidding, I'd probably run away screaming ;)

My Review:

Here’s a story about a man named Ty

Ex demon hunter, now private eye.
He barely escaped the hunting life
Grotesque demons and a hell of a lot of strife.

One year later he’s being dragged back in
Back to killing demons and his own demon within.
Only something is different this time around
More demons than ever are here above ground.

Can this tortured man do what no one else can?
Can he stop the demons and their master plan?
Trust me, you will not regret reading Beasts of Burdin
Because sarcastic wit, action, & mystery you’ll find within.

Still not convinced? Perhaps Nora can persuade you
Her confident style won me over and I’m sure it will you too.
An undiscovered author who doesn’t take any of Ty’s crap
She’s a force to be reckoned with and well that’s a wrap.

If you’re still not convinced then I don’t know what to say
Other than it's great and I hope you pick up Beasts of Burdin today.


Chapter 1

“Ty Burdin! Answer the phone already. It’s your brother.” The voice comes from the next room in a tone usually used by stress-fried mothers, not twenty-something-year-old receptionists. The harsh words crack through my whiskey-soaked brain like someone snapped a bullwhip in my ear. I pick my head up off the desk and wipe the drool from my mouth, as she bursts in the door.

“He’s adopted, and good morning,” I say, opening the drawer to my desk and digging through it.

“It’s not morning. It’s past noon, you lazy drunk.” Her tone is accusing, but there’s a slight smile to her ruby red lips. I really do think Nora gets enjoyment from trying to keep me in line. Her rockabilly style, all tattoos and polkadots, might scare some people off, but honestly, I think it’s kind of cool.

“Fine, I was wrong about the time, but you’re wrong, too,” I say.

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?” Nora kicks her hip to the side and props a hand on her leopard print skirt.

“I’m not drunk. I’m hungover.” I pull out a flask full of scotch and take a long drink. “I’m working on getting back on track, though.” I tip the flask toward her.

“I swear someone’s gonna find you in a ditch one day.” Her voice has a trace of concern, but it’s mostly drowned out by annoyance.

“In my line of work, that’s almost a guarantee. Now, can you tell me why you disturbed my ugly sleep?” Ugly sleep is a gross understatement. No amount of alcohol ever seems to drown out the vision of the young, innocent girl burned into my memory. The scene is even more ominous in my dreams than it was in real life.

A thunderclap breaks the silence of my memories. Nora stares down at me, hands stuck together. “Wake up, drunkard. Hartnet’s been trying to reach you on the phone for the past fifteen minutes.”

The pocket of my jacket buzzes, probably been ringing the entire time. Nora walks over to where it hangs by the door and withdraws the phone. “Jesus, Ty. You’ve got four missed calls, ten new messages, and over twenty emails. Do you ever check this thing?”

“No.” I have the phone, but honestly, I hate it.
Nora sets the still ringing phone on my desk, puts her hands on her hips and, using only facial expressions, guilts me into picking up.

“Hello,” I say into the phone that smells of smoke. I use my free hand to dig out cigarettes and a lighter.

“Ty! Finally, man, where you been?” Hartnet asks.

“Oh, you know me. I just got back from hiking the Swiss Alps with Edmund Hillary.”

“Real funny, Ty, but I imagine you’ve been spending more time with Jim or Jack.”

“God, no, I hate southern whiskey,” I say. “I prefer a fine scotch, Macallan to be specific.”

“You prefer whatever’s in front of you as long as there’s a proof label on the bottle,” Hartnet says.

I don’t have any argument for that. “So, what do you want?”

Rafflecopter link:


  1. love the poem review, Jen! :)

  2. Thanks for the wonderful poem. I'm glad you liked it.

  3. This books sounds right up my alley-adding it to my tbr list :)


I love hearing from you and will try to respond to comments as much as possible.