The 8th Day

“The old woman sat in front of the slot machine, slowly pulling the lever repeatedly, bits of dust collecting upon her head. The oxygen mask still strapped to her face showed no signs of breathing, no air moving through the tube down to the empty oxygen tank that sat on the floor beside her. She had no idea she was dead, pulling that lever anyway waiting for the jackpot to hit, because hopes and dreams never die.”

The 8th Day is getting a new release date, along with some other big news about it. More info soon.


Thank You.

Thank you very much.

“I just read Seven Mile. I have to tell you I come from a background of abuse, and the Apartment 116 chapter really affected me. And it’s not just the subject matter, but the way you wrote it. The words so strangely flowing, almost poetic, yet telling such a dark moment. You’re really a great writer.”

The Demon of Apartment 116

Thank You

Wow. I am humbled. Thank you.

“Amazon did a wonderful and a horrible thing. Horrible because it enabled anyone who could barely put a thought together to become “writers”; and wonderful because it enabled people who are truly great storytellers to share their gift with the world. Reinhart is one of those people; a great storyteller whose ability to weave words together in ways that affect the reader outshines the throngs of pretenders who should never put pencil to paper. It’s a shame that in today’s world, those who deserve accolades are often hidden behind thousands who don’t.”


Deja Vu With #2!

“Powerful follow up to the first one, hands down.”

“The book held me in its grips to the very last word and left me wanting more.”

“Once again, Tom Reinhart shoots a goal with the second installment of his gritty ‘study-in-noir’ drama of Mason Stone!”

“Tom Reinhart has a special gift. He is able to weave a story that is intense, intriguing, and incredible! Saint of the Seven Mile is the second book in the Saint Monolith series and it will make you stay up way too late like all of his other books do. Tom makes you cheer for a killer.”

“WOW…!!! Exceptional writing…Tom is a fantastic writer! This book held my attention so much I could not stop.”

“I am a new fan of Tom Reinhart…. Fantastic Author, looking forward to reading more of Tom’s books.”

“Not every writer can bring up these kinds of emotions when you read their books, and Tom managed to do that so well that you end up finishing his book with tears in your eyes and your hands shaking with rage.”

“Chapter after chapter I was hooked and wanting more, a feeling I usually never have. I did not want to stop reading, and when I finally got to the end, it wasn’t enough. Truly something special where you find yourself lost in the story.”

See what everyone is talking about at AMAZON BOOKS


Monsters Are Real





Life is magical when you’re seven. The Transformers toy in Seth’s little hand was as real to him as the park swing he had been flying it on. In childhood the world is full of wondrous things; superheroes, cartoon characters, magicians. Things that fill a child’s mind with great fantasy and often seem so real. His mother would take him to church and speak of angels, but Seth was usually more interested in getting home to his Sunday morning cartoons.

But the world of childhood is also filled with monsters, like the one Seth was sure hid in his closet whenever the light was out; and the one that had just shoved him to the ground and pushed his mother down onto the park bench while pulling at her clothes. “Just lie there and shut up” the monster growled at him. His mother, looking horribly frightened squirming beneath the strange man, told him to do the same. “Stay there baby. Just stay there. It’s okay.”

Seth knew it wasn’t okay. One of the world’s real monsters had come. He was frozen there, the side of his face pressed against the sand, his Transformer toy held tightly to his chest. His eyes were clenched shut, forcing the tears out faster. In his ears his mother’s voice was pleading, begging, and when her voice became too loud the monster hit her, and her screams turned to silent sobbing. His mother’s surrender only heightened Seth’s terror and sense of helplessness.

Moments later footsteps near his face made Seth open his eyes. A large black motorcycle boot stood motionless beside his face, the single silver buckle glistening oddly through the fog of his snot and tears. Seth’s panic grew; another monster had come. The boot shifted into the sand as the second monster leaned down, and Seth felt a hand on his back. A gentle touch, a rub, and the hand stayed there pressed against his back for a moment, now somehow calming and soothing. Seth looked up, and above him the face of a man with a finger over his lips signaled him to stay quiet, and Seth watched the boot walk away towards his mother and her attacker.

For the next few moments Seth couldn’t turn away, couldn’t close his eyes, as he watched one monster tear apart another. Later, when he would re-tell the story, he no longer called the second man a monster, but an angel, like his mother had told him about in church.