Excerpts From Covenant-999 Series

EXCERPT 1: Book 1 Victori Song

Kia knew the instant the classroom door opened that this woman was here to collect her. She seemed to know a lot of things that she wasn’t supposed to know. She’d once seen a boy trip over and snap one of his front teeth in half. Seconds before it had happened, she’d tried to warn him by crying, “You’re going to trip!” but it had already been too late. She knew that one of the girls in her class, the one who smelled funny, had nightmares every night that made her wet the bed, but she’d never been told that. She knew that there were invisible creatures all around that other people couldn’t sense; not fairies and gnomes, but something dark and something light. And she knew, somehow, that Loraine was not actually her mother.

She also knew, just by looking at this lady, that they had something in common—maybe this gift of knowledge. Kia had always been smart for her age, even though she was the smallest person in her class. She always kept to herself and no one ever picked on her, because if they did, they knew she would somehow get revenge, like she had with the boy who she’d predicted would trip and the smelly girl she’d blackmailed.

When the woman winked at her, Kia felt her body start to move. She picked up her books, walked over to her school bag which sat on a shelf full of other school bags, and put the books inside. When her teacher, Miss Miller, asked if this was her Aunt Nancy, the word yes came flying out of her mouth, though Kia knew intuitively that the woman’s name was not Nancy Stewart at all.

EXCERPT 2: Book 2 Rebequah Victori

She had learned to stop feeling a long time ago. After being rescued from a near death experience at the hands of three witches, she had lost her identity. Was she Kia or was she Kelta? It was too difficult a question to face, so instead she asked her aunt to change her name to Kelly. She declined to take Daniel’s surname on the basis that Kelly Vella was a tongue twister. In reality, she did not want to be associated with him since he was no relation of hers; so she took the name Kelly Stewart. Counselors also agreed it was a good idea. They said Kelly could create a new identity for herself. But instead Kelly decided to become no one and to feel nothing. It seemed safer.

EXCERPT 3: Book 2 Rebequah Victori

It was just a test in her mind. A test to confirm to herself for once-and-for-all, that she was in fact a witch. She had avoided the truth for so long; it was about time she faced it. She was born into a family of witches and her destiny to become one of them, die for them–or both–was imprinted on her soul.

EXCERPT 4: Book 3 Samantha Song

It was only a few weeks after returning to Paradise Church that Kia met Gavin. What she did not know was that Gavin had asked to meet her. He noticed her sitting with Beq and Jesse on Sunday mornings and making a quick dash for the back door after the service. He approached the Davies to learn more about Kia. By the following week Beq had Kia convinced that if she really wanted to overcome her insecurities she needed to come out for lunch after church and meet new people.

So Kia, Beq, Jesse, Aaron, Beth, Gavin, Gavin’s brother David, David’s wife Michelle and a couple of Beq and Michelle’s mutual friends Trent and Amy, went out for lunch at a buffet after church one Sunday afternoon in May 2010. Funnily enough, Kia and Gavin were the only single adults in the group.

Kia remembered how Gavin had asked her what seemed like hundreds of questions that day. Before too long she became impatient and began glaring at him for prying too deeply. Then she realized that she was using immature coping mechanisms and that she had determined to try to let people in–female and male. So she continued to answer his questions, fighting her own urges to respond with haughty indifference.

Much later in their relationship, Gavin told her that she had failed miserably and had come across as a complete snob. He quickly added, however, that it had not discouraged him. If anything, he had seen through her mask and felt convinced that she was someone in desperate need of love.

Their relationship had moved very slowly in the beginning. Gavin asked Kia to be his girlfriend four times before she finally agreed. Then she broke up with him six times in the first ten months of their relationship. She spent weeks here and there ignoring and avoiding him. She called him names, and constantly pushed him away emotionally and physically.

When she was finally able to admit to him the things that had been done to her, what she had experienced and felt, and how close she had come to murdering her own family, he told her that it didn’t change the way he felt about her. His love for her was deepening because he could see that she was blossoming into an authentic, vulnerable, beautiful woman.

That was one year ago. Kia had finally let Gavin into her heart, where he belonged. Three months later they had become engaged, and today, two years after they had met, they were getting married.

Harry Potter, Supernatural & Covenant-999

When I was about 25 years old I went on a family holiday to Port Macquarie and I was reading through a book similar to “The Purpose Driven Life” and talking to God about my desire to write novels. I asked him to give me ideas for books that people would actually enjoy. So I thought about what was popular at the time and Harry Potter and Supernatural came to mind.

I decided to write about witchcraft, but unlike Harry Potter, I wanted to expose its roots in Satanism. I brainstormed how I would depict the supernatural realms including angels and demons, gleaning from writers such as Frank Peretti and Ted Dekker.

Over the past 2 months I have watched Supernatural seasons 1-5 and, in the past 2 weeks, 7 out of 8 of the Harry Potter movies. Apart from some of the violence, I really enjoyed them and I remembered why I they inspired me so much. It is because the main characters have a cause and will not let any evil or doubt or fear stand in their way. They wield faith like a sword and know the power of their words. Spiritual forces submit to them and are thwarted because of their persistence.

We have a power similar to this, but we struggle to realise this spiritual power. Our eyes boggle at the likes of Harry Potter and we wish we could fly as he does and overcome the powers of darkness with the flick of a wand and a spell. Then we tell ourselves that it’s not real and there is no war going on, no need to fight and no reason to attempt the impossible.

We see Sam and Dean Winchester fight demons with salt, charms, special bullets, and words of incantation. We all know that magic bullets don’t exist. Salt is a metaphor for the purification of God, but salt in and of itself will do nothing to a demonic spirit. However, our words do indeed have power. It’s a pity that Sam and Dean never once use the name of Jesus Christ in their exorcism rituals.

I use the name of Jesus in my novels. I have explored the power that we have as spiritual beings against other supernatural forces at work in our world. I have revealed footholds that may allow a demon/s access to one’s household and how demons often manifest as something similar to what many would call a ghost. I have written about how tarot prophecies come from demonic whispers and then demons go about proving them true to suck people in.

I also describe Satanism and witchcraft in nightmarish detail. Many people have asked me how much research I did or how I discovered this information. The truth is that my research was very minimal and surface level. One reader even asked me if I am a witch. It got me thinking that maybe there is a witch in my ancestry because in all honesty, I feel as though I have always known more on the subject than I “should” naturally know. Similarly as to how I was born with musical talent (or at least, I believe I was) that was then developed when I learned to play piano and began singing along and composing music and lyrics etc., is it possible I was born with information about the spiritual realms that some people do not have?

I have always believed in God, since before my earliest memories of life. I almost feel as though I remember God from before I was conceived. Like I existed with him before time but it’s more like a feeling than a memory. I know how ridiculous it sounds. I know how creepy it is for me to suggest that I was somehow born with knowledge about evil and supernatural things that people want to ignore, suppress, avoid or gawk at and accuse. But I think it’s possible.

I also understand that some Christians no longer believe in the existence of Satan or angels and demons. I respect them and I understand why they don’t believe yet remain worshippers of God. I however, choose to believe in spiritual beings and the powers of evil.

Personally, I feel that I have brushed up against evil too many times not to believe in it. We’ve all heard of the atrocities of World War II – the concentration camps, the gas chambers, the slaughter of millions of human beings. More immediately, there are children starving to death in third world countries and being sold into the sex trade – which shouldn’t happen to anyone, let alone a child. Sexual abuse has touched my life as I daresay everyone would know at least one person who has experienced something similar. Then there are the evils of disease. Watching my mother die of cancer convinced me that it’s root cause is something evil or at the very least unhealthy and that cancer is not rooted in the love and goodness of God.

Not only do I believe in evil, but I believe there are forces behind evil. My sister has seen angels and demons with her own two eyes. I had an experience as a teenager in which I sensed the presence of evil spirits, lurking unseen in my cabin on a high school camp to the ACT. I later learned that Canberra has one of the highest witch populations in Australia. I set my third novel in the ACT and mentioned in passing the very camping ground I stayed at as a thirteen year old.

Some other places known for witchcraft in Australia are Katoomba and the Adelaide Hills. I set my first two novels in South Australia after having lived there for 3 years and observing a spiritual climate of lethargy and depression that stood out in stark contrast to the hustle-bustle-busy-stressed atmosphere of Sydney. These are my opinions and gut feelings about the spiritual energy that I believe surrounds people wherever they live. It seems to differ in each major city or perhaps even suburb.

My spiritual intuition has helped me mould the events and characters of my novels. The three heroines of my books: Victori, Rebequah and Samantha, have traces of my personality in all of them. Tori is the mother I want to be someday, who frets over her children a little bit too much. She is prone to some level of anxiety. She longs for purpose and finds fulfilment in her work, her ministry and her family.

Beq is someone I really want to be more like. She is impetuously brave, headstrong and independent. She wants to choose what she believes based on her own experience and exploration, not on other people’s opinions or manipulation and she wants to fashion her own relationship with God.

Sas is the most intuitive, intelligent, talented and relational of them all. She is musical and mathematical. She is anxious over many things, because she picks up on other people’s vibes – their emotions, doubts, fears etc. She loves so deeply that it terrifies her and she feels unworthy of the gifts and abilities God has given her. She hides them a lot of the time. She doesn’t want the attention. She has premonition-like dreams and sees angels and demons as commonly as you or I would see a tree. She feels like a freak and has few deep relationships.

I used to be a lot like Sas. In my younger years I felt like an alien who didn’t really belong on planet earth. I based my happiness on other people’s happiness. I was okay if my family was okay. I could cope as long as no one hated me. I was always trying to be perfect and not upset anyone. I faced conflict head on so that I could resolve it, and became mediator in some friendships. I belittled my own talents and opinions so as not to appear conceited.

But I am becoming more like Beq every day. More bold and full of crazy faith that tells mountains to move and they move, or demons to flee and they flee. And that’s what Covenant-999 is really all about. In the Harry Potter series, witches and wizards speak one incantation and immediately their words are manifest. We, human beings, are not so unlike wizards as one might be inclined to think.

Satan does not hold the onus on power. His power is counterfeit. The sorcery of Harry Potter pales in comparison to the authority Christians have in the Holy Spirit. The practises of Satanism, as depicted in my novels, are overcome by the power of faith-filled prayer and the presence of Jesus. For Jesus said that Christians have authority to heal the sick, cast out demons and overcome evil.

Through the Pentecostal influences in my life, I have learned about this authority and the power of our words. We are all created in the image of God and what we speak has the power of life and death. What we see in our mind is substantiated in the physical realm. What we believe becomes our reality.

This year I am challenging myself to activate the power within, just like the characters in my novels. If you haven’t read Victori Song or Rebequah Victori, get ready for an awakening to supernatural things. You will face evil head-on and experience the tragedies and triumphs of ordinary people just like you. Join me on this journey of becoming a deeply spiritual human being. Books 1 and 2 of Covenant-999 are available from amazon.com.

Prologue to Rebequah Victori


Most of the population across the globe held their breath, counting away the seconds at the turn of the millennium. Some were afraid for their very lives after rumours surfaced of a millennium-bug capable of destroying the world’s highest technological advances. This computer glitch was expected to reverse all the good that computers had done in the world; shutting them down so that any facility, company or individual that relied on computers would falter.
Internet and email that connected people internationally with growing popularity could potentially become inaccessible. Banks could lose all soft copy records of exactly how much dough was stored in each account: the rich could become poor and the debtors cleared. Traffic and street lights could become nothing but stakes in the ground waiting for unsuspecting drivers, plunged into darkness, to wrap their cars around. Television, radio, mobile phones and other communication devises could be nothing but useless shells ready for the scrap heap.
Preparing for the worst case scenario meant preparing for worldwide anarchy. Many families had bought years of tinned food supplies and other resources in case this superbug brought the world to its knees. Others withdrew large sums of cash, hiding it in an underwear drawer for the impending disaster.
But this five did not care. This five had never used a computer or mobile phone in their lives. Not that they refused to, it was simply unnecessary for them at this point in time. And any sort of anarchy that might result from the millennium-bug, would only work in their favour. While others were vulnerable, they would take a stand. If the world was turned upside down, they would gladly add to the destruction. While the world looked left, they would ambush from the right!
Not that they needed this millennium-bug to help them. The people of this world were blind enough without having to turn the physical lights out. But the time for war was fast approaching. And when that day came, the millennium-bug would pale in comparison to the upheaval that awaited the unsuspecting billions.
The five witches stood like the points of a pentagram; hands clasped in such a way as to form the shape of their prized astrological symbol. They chanted around a fire in the South Australian bushland, where there were no fireworks to celebrate the New Year; only dark skies with diamond stars shining down on them.
In the flickering firelight, their faces looked quite normal. Female only. Undeniably gaunt; but not unattractive. In fact, some were more attractive than others. One with eyes the colour of a blue lagoon; another with eyes that mysteriously changed shades from dark to light: browns, blues and greens. Their heights varied and they were all exceptionally thin. They did not have unusually long, pointy noses, warts, or unwanted hair follicles. They were just women. But they were not just any women.
They wore black from head to toe. Black dresses with skirts that touched the ground and sleeves that extended with jagged ends to the fingers. Black shoes and stockings tucked beneath. Long, black hair – whether dyed or naturally dark – extending past their shoulders. Black eye liner and mascara with dark burgundy shades of eye shadow and lipstick – the colour of dried blood – for those who chose to wear it. Black fingernail polish.
They were chanting to Beelzebub, prophesying a future that had not yet come to pass. A new day was dawning! Not just a new year or a new century or a new millennium; but a new period in history when the world would come to see the powers that surrounded them!
It was now time for them to emerge from the distant suburbs of South Australia and rejoin the society of Adelaide City. The city where Kelta still lived: the young woman who was going to lead them into power!
Kelta would be eighteen in a few more years. By that time she would be ready and so would they. But for now, sacrifices needed to be made. Blood needed to be shed. Identities needed to be redefined and personalities remoulded.
Two of the witches hadn’t killed in almost nine years. Nicia’s last assignment was to murder a little girl by the name of Bronwyn Leach in 1991; Dido’s was to kill Jennifer Patterson that same year. Calypso had killed more recently; her own mother in fact, in 1994.
But this would be Pleuro and Venus’s first time: the final step toward their initiation into the Undercover Satanic Witches’ Coven.
Pleuro was technically Calypso’s adopted sister. Nimbus had taken her in, nine years ago. She’d referred to the girl as ‘Princess Pleuro.’ Princess because there was something special about her, and Pleuro because she was the plural. Like the ‘s’ on the end of a word, she was the add-on; extra: Nimbus’s back-up plan.
However, when Calypso relieved her mother from her duties to the coven, sentencing her to whatever eternal plan Beelzebub had devised, she scrapped the ‘Princess’ reference. It was tacky. The girl was no more a Princess than she was. Pleuro may be important, but, not at this stage, irreplaceable.
Pleuro, who had just turned thirteen, showed enormous potential. She had passed several tests: ingesting the blood of a human being; skinning a rabbit and eating it raw; and stabbing herself through the wrists and ankles, to create false stigmata wounds as her act of self-mutilation.
Venus, on the other hand was not Calypso’s adopted sister, but her adopted daughter. A year ago Calypso had followed in the footsteps of her mother and taken in the orphan who was at that time, eight and a half years old. She too, now appeared to be ready. Venus’s early days of bed wetting and hysterical crying had ended eight months ago on the day that she’d first slaughtered a sheep, after her life had been threatened by starvation. Now Venus had come to accept her purpose in life as a Satanic witch.
Another orphan Calypso had adopted the year before, had actually starved, although the autopsy report cited a cerebral haemorrhage resulting from a car accident as the cause of death. ‘What a shame.’
As the witches chanted, Calypso could hear the whispers of the demonic forces around her. She was given four names. In a matter of time the people who went by those names would be dead. They would have a new residence for their coven. Three of the witches would have new names and new roles under these identities so they could blend into the world around them for a few years.
The sigh of relief over the superbug false alarm, would soon be drowned out by the mass hysteria of a world at war. And nobody would suspect a thing until it was too late.