I'd like to thank Holly @ FMB Book Tours for giving my the opportunity to participate in the THE LAST DEGREE blog tour.
Series: Book #1
Author: Dina Rae
The Last Degree is a fictionalized account of how Freemasons and other secret societies set up the world for takeover. Ancient writings foretell a ‘Shining One’ who emerges as the world’s prophet. A murder of a Most Worshipful mason resembles a secret oath. A cop gets too close to solving the crime. Paranoid preppers go underground, preparing for war.
Headlines such as the Norway massacre, meltdown of the European Union, unscrupulous media, animal die-offs, Middle Eastern unrest, and U.S. shrinking power make the plot relevant to present day. This book is an ode to Christians, Birthers, 2012ers, Truthers, preppers, and/or other conspiracy junkies who enjoy Dan Brown, Jesse Ventura, Brad Meltzer, Alex Jones, Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHaye.
The Last Degree will be FREE Sept. 27th – 28th!
About this Author:
Dina Rae is a new author here to stay. As a former teacher, she brings an academic element to her work. Her two novels, Halo of the Damned and The Last Degree, weave research and suspense throughout the plots. Her short story, Be Paranoid Be Prepared, is a prequel of sorts to The Last Degree, focusing on the James Martin character. Dina also freelances for various entertainment blogs.
Dina lives with her husband, two daughters, and two dogs outside of Chicago. She is a Christian, an avid tennis player, movie buff, and self-proclaimed expert on several conspiracy theories. When she is not writing, she is reading novels from her favorite authors Dan Brown, Anne Rice, Stephen King, Brad Thor, George R.R. Martin, and Preston & Childs.
Check out The Last Degree Prequel as well—Be Paranoid Be Prepared!
There was only one card left to play. Jane just had a baby. If not properly healed and rested, she might hemorrhage. She was also alone and without a place to go. Helpless, she felt doomed.
Jane never felt a connection to God. In her hour of need, a prayer couldn't hurt.
God, forgive me for my lack of faith and all of my misgivings. I've been a lousy Christian, if ever really a Christian at all. I hate to be one who only calls out to You when there's a problem, yet here I am. And God, I'm calling out as loud as I can. I need help. Guide me, help me, show me a way out.
Amen. After she finished, she began to weep. The same nurse who sensed her fear of Nathan entered the room.
“I hate to bother you. You look miserable, but your mother is here. Do you want me to bring her in your room? Do you want me to tell her you are unavailable?” the nurse whispered.
Jane wiped her bloodshot eyes. “Please bring her in here.”
Jane wondered how her mother even knew where she was. They hadn't spoken in months.
Her mother, Marion, walked in with a stuffed bear, a balloon bouquet, and a bottle of champagne. Reeking of cigarettes and gin, her brown eyes were glassy and full of veins. Her aquiline nose was forming ruddy cauliflower-like compounds on her crimson face from decades of heavy drinking. Despite her condition, she was dressed to the nines in a pretty, floral-patterned sundress and low heels. She wore light makeup and had her dyed red hair professionally styled and teased.
“Congratulations!” Marion bellowed as she leaned in to kiss Jane and gaze at the newborn boy. Almost losing her balance, Marion wobbled into the nearest chair.
Jane could not have been happier to see her. Tears of despair changed to gratitude. She and Marion never were close. With all of the mistakes her mother had made, Jane learned not to rely on her for anything.
Their mother-daughter bond was destroyed when Jane was just a toddler. Although
Marion gave her plenty of reasons to sever all ties, she held no resentments.
She and her mother shared a connection, a bond. All they had was each other.
“We need to celebrate! Today's a happy day! You are a mother! And hopefully a better one than I was!” Marion reached for the empty coffee cups on the nightstand. Popping the champagne cork, she poured and announced, “And now, a toast to what’s-his-name?”
Jane couldn't help but laugh as she guzzled her drink. “Since he still doesn't have a name, I guess what's-his-name will work.” She motioned for a refill.
Alcohol would dull the harsh sting of reality.
“Mom, how did you know I was here?” Jane demanded.