THE UP, UP AND AWAY: the Kevin J Anderson Superhero Bundle

THE UP, UP AND AWAY SUPERHEROES BUNDLE

Curated by Kevin J. Anderson

If reading is your kryptonite, Kevin J Anderson has put together a superpowered StoryBundle—thirteen books with marvelous heroes, supervillains, secret identities, mutant powers, and extraordinary gentlemen (and ladies).
For StoryBundle, you decide what price you want to pay. For $5 (or more, if you're feeling generous), you'll get the basic bundle of five books in any ebook format.

• Captain Nemo - The Fantastic Adventures of a Dark Genius by Kevin J. Anderson• Cynetic Wolf by Matt Ward• Working Class Hero by James Robert Smith• Dove Season by Robin Brande• The Superhero's Test by Lucas Flint

If you pay at least the bonus price of just $15, you get all five of the regular books, plus eight more more books, for a total of thirteen!

• Playing a Hunch by Dean Wesley Smith• Fid's Crusade by David Reiss• The Enlivening by Ashlyn Frost• Nobody's Hero by Mark Leslie• Morning Sun by Jeremy Flagg• Overlook by Jon Mollison
• Hellbent by Tina Glasneck• Brave New World Revolution by Matt Forbeck

This bundle is available only for a limited time . It allows easy reading on computers, smartphones, and tablets as well as Kindle and other ereaders via file transfer, email, and other methods. You get multiple DRM-free formats (.epub, .mobi) for all books!

It's also super easy to give the gift of reading with StoryBundle, thanks to our gift cards – which allow you to send someone a code that they can redeem for any future StoryBundle bundle – and timed delivery, which allows you to control exactly when your recipient will get the gift of StoryBundle.

* * * *

Yes, I'm pimping this one because Overlook was awesome. It really is my Dragon Award pick for best SF this year. I don't think I can recommend it enough. This might have something to do with this using my own superpower (no, the bright yellow jacket doesn't always help). If you don't get the joke.... read the damn book already. :)  It really is quite good.

And while I have you here, be sure to vote in the Dragon Awards.

Review: When the Gods Fell, Richard Paolinelli

Welcome to When the Gods Fell, the latest by the Dragon Award finalist Richard Paolinelli (Escaping Infinity)

Mars Is Hiding A Secret

When the first small group of humans arrive on Mars, they expect to retrieve some probes and learn more about Earth’s neighbor. Instead, they find Oracle Veritas, of House Delphi, who has waited 65 million years to brief these children of Olympus about their own origins, their very essence … and the danger that threatens them.

Seas and lakes, deserts and icecaps, forests and mountains once covered this planet then called Olympus. Veritas tells them that it was home to a race of immortals—Zeus, Odin, Yahweh, Lucifer, and others—who guided the fates of other worlds and fought among themselves for supremacy.

Zeus, Odin, Yahweh, and Lucifer, supported by characters from other realms, had battled for control. As civil war loomed, the most powerful of all the gods, Zeus, foresaw chaos and destruction. Left with a single, terrible solution to save all the worlds, Zeus turned to the only person he could trust to carry out his last order … and change all existence forever.

This was hands-down awesome. This is one part 2001: A Space Odyssey, one part Dan Simmons, and one part Babylon 5, with a hint of Mass Effect.

The short version? The concepts are brilliant The execution is spot on. There is about 10-15% of the book that needed a little bit of a trim, but aside from that? Wonderful.

This one is very much a novel. I don't mean to be masty about the description. But this is as much of a novel as The Martian. Only without as much smart ass. Okay, there's still plenty of smart ass -- with the Mars station Von Braun, and rovers named Aldren and The Glenn -- but this one is a bit more serious than The Martian. The execution of the science bit felt an a lot like the Martian -- sensible, straightforward, and sciencey. (I especially like how Russia, in 2040, is still trying to cover their inferiority complex with bravado.)

As the flap copy mentions, the martian crew is wandering around the planet, minding their own business .... until they stumble upon a woman just standing in the middle of the martian landscape. She's so happy that the humans seeded on Earth finally made it to Mars. Of course she managed to survive that long -- she had become a being of pure energy (damn Vorlons. They get everywhere). And it's a story 65 million years in the making (yes, I stole the Jurassic Park ad campaign).

The following story is an epic tale of ... well, we're going to take ALL the mythology, and make the gods aliens with style. There were so many mythological references in this one that I'm certain that I missed some. As this is mythology, there are enough betrayals and back stabbing to make the cast of Game of Thrones look like amateurs.

We have Caste Zion, led by Lord Yahweh, where everyone in the City of Eden is part of the national guard, which was helpful when Lucifer's House Satania challenged Chronos Saturnius' Caste Olympia a hundred years before hand, and Lord Marduk and Lord Tiamat of Houses Canaan and Dagon are plotting a followup coup....

Okay, this book is a little chocked FULL of smartass, if just requires a degree in classical studies (or a read-through of Bullfinch's Mythology) to really get the jokes.

As I said before, when Richard uses ALL of the mythologies, he uses ALL of the mythologies. If he missed one, I can't tell you what he may have left out. We have appearances by Thor, Loki, Shiva, Kali. Nippon, a literal Mount Fuji .... okay, Ganesh didn't make it into the book, but there's a sequel. And yes, Loki is still Loki. Then again, when everyone's pantheon gets together, everyone starts to look a little like Loki. (Honestly, straight up mythology has enough murder and incest porn to make Game of Thrones look like Kindergarten).

Now, in a book that mixes mythology and scifi -- especially when one turned mythology into Scifi -- you'd normally expect a ton of handwavium. Not really. I especially enjoyed describing Hades' House Orcus as underground, on the banks of a fire river Styx .... but that Styx had carved out tubes and caves from pole to pole, and the way the water is described as being laced with enough methane so that the water was always on fire. It was just such a nice touch. It's less scifi and more ... fi.

And the ending .... well, all I can say is that you should pay VERY close attention to the numbers they throw about.

There is only one problem with this book.

And no, I'm not kvetching about "Yahweh is a Vorlon." Even in the book, the Oracle telling the story said that yes, there was a Deity to whom these "gods" prayed. And I saw no mention of one of the kids becoming a carpenter. If you're that concerned, unbunch your panties and just relax. This is not Dan Brown. Paolinelli is not poking at your faith with malice aforethought.

The real problem: As the book nears the end, it's fairly obvious how this runaway freight train is going to end. In fact, we kinda know how the book is going to end from the beginning -- but the journey to how it gets there is so interesting and so readable, you don't care how it ends, you want to see how they got there. But after a certain point, runaway train is not only running off the rails, but is on fire. What comes next?

What comes next ... is a heck of an epilogue that sets up for an apocalyptic battle that I'm sure will be very interesting....

But damnit man, why did you have to end it THERE?

Anyway, at least pick up When the Gods Fell , and you'll see why I considered it for my Best SF novel for the Dragon Awards.

And please remember to vote in the Dragon Awards. If you think you know what you're going to vote for, you can click here and cast your vote right now, COMPLETELY FREE

If you think you might have some open slots in your ballot, then here's what I voted for -- and if you don't see something you like on my ballot, keep scrolling down the post, and you'll see all of the eligible books that I could find.

Review: Come, Seeling Night

What families don't have their little problems?

Paxton Lock is back, and payback can be a mutha.

Enter Come, Seeling Night.

Paxton Locke’s been in some pretty tight spaces before. This one might be the worst.

Drugged and shipped to who-knows-where on an airplane, he’s locked up by men who seem to be Feds. But they haven’t given him his phone call, and Pax isn’t sure if his cell mates are even human.

This is one cell he can’t get out of, but he’s got to find a way to escape. Mother has his girlfriend, and she wants a redo of the night she killed Paxton’s father. But this time she won’t be interrupted. Paxton’s got to find Cassie, and he’s got to stop his mother.

Or the world might end.

Apocalyptic visions from Mother’s grimoire have haunted him for years. Now she’s close to making it happen. And all Paxton can do is wait in his cell for someone to realize he’s not the bad guy.

Can Paxton escape his magical prison and stop Mother? Or will he be too late, and lose Cassie just like he lost his dad?

The third installment of the Paxton Locke series delves deeper into the meaning of love and forgiveness, while providing plenty of action, magic, and Humphreys’ signature subtle horror.

Will Mother bring about a world on fire, or a dead Earth? Can Paxton defeat her? Find out and read Come Seeling Night today!

Once again, this is a brilliantly executed plot. Even the tangential subplot that becomes a thread to be untangled in the rest of the series is nicely place. It effects the plot of this book, sets up for the next book, and we move right along.

In short, there's nothing like C4 to cut through red tape.

I'm not sure if I can add anything new to my review that isn't a spoiler. Though I will admit that the historical aspects we have revealed to us over the course of the novel are very interesting.

And if you think I mean a mention here or there, no. There are whole characters who are historical references. I think I have about or or three figured out.

But yeah, a lot of what impressed me about this book was the setup for everything to come. It almost feels like a three-book origin story.

Yeah, I know it almost feels like cheating that I'm saying so little. But everything interesting really is a spoiler... and I read the ARC for this book months ago, and I'm a bit rusty trying to catch up to my book reviews.

And damn does Paxton want to be Harry Dresden when he grows up... if he grows up. Right down to pissing off everybody he meets. And if anything ever happens to Butcher (God forbid), Humphreys can Sanderson in as replacement quite well.

And I like the punchline. Very Terry Goodkind.... except for the speeches. There are no speeches.

But Come, Seeling Night here.

This would be my Dragon Award nomination for fantasy this year -- except that Dan wants A Place Called Hope for military SFF.

Please remember to vote in the Dragon Awards.

My ballot is here.

The Final Dragon Award Discussion, 2019

Dragon Con has one massive award, with thousands of people voting on it. In the second year, there were 8,000 people voting.

And now, the eligibility window has closed as of the end of June. Start marking the books that have come out since July 1st for next year.

However...

Voting doesn't close until July 19.

That's right. Anything that comes out before the deadline of June 30th is eligible, but voting cuts off on July 19th. So if you haven't voted yet, you might want to finish off the books you have coming.

This time, the format is going to be a little different. This time, I'm going to tell you who I'm voting for, based off of books I've read and enjoyed.

The NEXT section is going to have everything and everyone I could scrape together just on a level of pure eligibility.

This second section will include books I haven't read, from people I don't even know.

It is a huge freaking list, and I would clutter up the blog post if I dealt with them as I have previous posts.  The lists of the purely eligible are so long, I considered making them a separate post entirely. But I figure having one place for my conclusions and everyone else's suggestions would make it easier on everyone.  Okay, easier on me, but moving right along....

Here we go.

Best Science Fiction Novel

I have already reviewed Heroes Fall by Morgon Newquist. You might think. Still one Hell of a solid novel, and some of the best SF I've read in years.

What is it? Superheroes. If you liked Astro City, or JMS's Rising Stars, or, hell, the MCU, you're going to want to read this one, and I think you're going to agree with me that it's pretty kickass.

And I really, really wanted to nominate Richard Paolinelli. But I haven't gotten to When the Gods Fell yet. Sorry Richard. Don't worry, I'm going to get there much, much later. Probably next year. With my luck, it'll be after the sequel comes out.

Best Fantasy Novel 

(Including Paranormal)

Karl Gallagher's The Lost War.

Wait? What? What happened to Bokerah Brumley's "Keepers of New Haven: Woe for a Faerie?

Two things happened. And I'll explain in the next section...

Okay, three things happened. One of which was I actually read Karl's book.

Best YA / Middle Grade Novel

Bokerah Brumley's "Keepers of New Haven: Woe for a Faerie."

Yes, I know. After months of talking about The King's Regret by Ligon before it was published, I'm shifting one novel, and deleting the author. WTF?

Three things happened.

1) I read Karl's book.
2) Bokerah mentioned online that this was more YA than Fantasy
3) Amazon screwed the pooch on releasing Ligon's book that I don't think it's reached a wide enough audience to gather votes.

If you have read and liked Ligon's book, I still recommend it. But right now it's a matter of timing and a matter of math.

Lucky for everyone, Jagi hasn't come out with another Rachel Griffin novel. Otherwise I'd be pushing that one like a maniac, because she's earned one for the last four novels.

Best Military SFF Novel

Daniel Humphrey's A Place For War... Still.

For the record, no, I have not yet read David Weber's Uncompromising Honor. I suspect he will not need additional support.

Imagine this is like Ringo's Black Tide Rising, only ten years after the world fell apart, during the reemergence of human civilization.

And then the shit hits the fan again.

Best Alternate History Novel

Hans Schantz's Brave and the Bold (reviewed here).

So, my vote goes to Hans.

Best Media Tie-In Novel

Thrawn: Alliance
Timothy Zahn is doing a Thrawn novel. Your argument is so invalid, it's not even funny.

Best Horror Novel

This is funny, since by the time the Dragons comes out, I will have SIX horror novels eligible.

Hell Spawn
Death Cult
Infernal Affairs
City of Shadows
Crusader (
Deus Vult (Coming soon....ish)

..... But as I argued, it's best to nominate Hell Spawn and move on. And if you disagree and would like to nominate one of the other books in another category ... okay, but I'd like you not to split the vote too too much.

Please refer here for my thoughts on the matter.

Then again, Hell Spawn has already won an award, so yeah, it's worth it. It's endorsed by the CLFA for their book of the year, and Jim McCoy, Richard Paolinelli, and Karl Gallagher have all said they're voting for it. So... yeah, not bad.

Best Comic Book

Dark Maiden #2, by Jonathan Baird.

Joan of Arc fantasy comic book.

I dare you to find me something better.

Best Graphic Novel

I may leave this one blank.

Best SFF TV Series

God Friended Me ...

Best SFF Movie

Aquaman.

Because everyone else is going to vote Endgame.

Best SFF PC / Console Game

Spiderman, PS4, Insomniac games.

Yup. No hesitation. This was .... amazing.

As for ... Best Science Fiction or Fantasy Mobile Game ....
AND
Best Science Fiction or Fantasy Board Game....

No idea.

However, 

Best SFF Miniatures / Collectible Card 

/ Role-Playing Game....

Nathan to the rescue on this one: Warhammer 40,000: Kill Team


And if you want to vote RIGHT THIS MINUTE, without looking at anyone else's thoughts.that would be here.

HOWEVER, if you want to look below the break, LET THE DISCUSSION BEGIN!!!  BWAHAHAHAHAHA

Catholic reads: Declan Finn Returns

Catholics reads wanted me back.

I went.

Fun was had by all.

Get City of Shadows here.

As you wait for the books to download to your Kindle, please join the discussion about the Dragon Awards. I've got the latest post updated and ready to go, and I seriously want to hear from you and your thoughts on what you enjoyed..

Heroes Fall: Heroes United Book 1

People keep trying to give us "realistic superheroes."

 I think the trend may have started with "Watchmen," which frankly told me more of what was in the soul of Alan Moore than said anything about the superhero genre. A better example (I'm told) is Kurt Busiek's Astro City, which addresses themes such as a man who becomes a superhero to find redemption, or even the legalities of X-Ray vision and super senses.

Here's the successor.

For those of you who long for the days when comic books were actually entertaining, and the most angst you were subjected to was the occasional Spider Man nervous breakdown, welcome to Heroes Fall, Serenity City, book 1, by Morgon Newquist.

We open with The Rampage, a mission where Superman, Batman and .... Iron Fist, I guess.... goes horribly, horribly wrong. One is murdered, the other goes mad, and only one is left standing.

Sounds like fun ... except this isn't a comic book crossover. This is Morgon's new world of heroes and villains. The heroes are Achilles, Pendragon and Banshee. And an epic battle of massive destruction throughout the city 

He wanted to be a good man. Instead he became a hero.
Twenty years ago, Serenity City's great Triumvirate of heroes - Achilles, the Banshee, and Pendragon - maintained a golden age of peace and prosperity. Then, in an instant, it all went wrong. The city's mightiest champion, Achilles, lost his mind during a showdown with the enigmatic supervillain Thanatos and went on a rampage across the city, leaving the Banshee dead and a swath of destruction in his wake before Pendragon could stop him.

Today, as Achilles rots in solitary confinement, Victoria Westerdale investigates a new mystery. Why are young and forgotten heroes disappearing off the streets? Why doesn't anybody else care? And how is it tied in to those infamous events that brought the city's greatest heroes to ruin?

And what's going to happen to them all after Achilles escapes?

The first of a new wave of superhero novels! Coming soon:

• Hollow City from Dragon Award nominee Kai Wai Cheah
• The Phoenix Ring from Jon Mollison
• Gemini Man from J.D. Cowan
• Atlantean Archons from Richard W Watts

So, yeah, this one was fun. It starts strong, introducing plenty of side characters (even throwaway characters) effortlessly. It was a Hell of a way to open.

Despite the amount of time the blurb spent on the setup, 90% of the story focuses on Victory Westerdale. She doesn't want to be a superhero, just a simple, straightforward hero who saves people and goes back to the daily nine to five. Victory's powers are like Jessica Jones, if the latter weren't a raving bitch. It's mostly a mystery set in a new and improved Astro City. And I can't say a whole heck of a lot without spoiling it, so I won't.

I like the breakdown of the superhero class structure. No, we're not going into class warfare here, merely a practical approach to superheroes. DC and Marvel comics are truly unrealistic -- that only one superhero (Booster Gold, IIRC) -- seems to be offered or has desires for fame and notoriety. In the world of Serenity City, everyone wants to climb the hero totem pole. It's a competitive culture for the next brand endorsement, coming with a good paycheck. And there are some of those heroes who are Iron Man narcissistic and some who are simply saving people and heroing, and taking cash because they'll take all the help they can get. Of course, this environment means that no one really teams up, but considering how many times the JSA and the JLA have broken up, is anyone surprised when heroes can't get along?

The villain of the piece ... there are two. They're both fairly well developed, though one has barely any screen time. If you're wondering how that happens, it's largely because of the quality of the "evil plan." One is a narrative underdog, and the other is a cunning master manipulator. One comes off as David Tennant's Kilgrave, and the other is trying to do "good" for noble reasons, but has all the skills and talents of Richard III, or the MCU's Civil War villain. It's a bit of a train wreck, with a moral quandary that had only one solution.

At the end of the day, fans of the superhero genre should recognize the occasional tip of the hat to everything from The Dark Knight to Astro City to Green Hornet. That would be a spoiler if you could get the permutations right. We have Alfred with superpowers. A character named Ash who I suspect could be played by Bruce Campbell. A healer hero named Panacea (yes, really). A hero lawyer with the ability to cloud men's minds. And oh dear me, we're going to have a realistic portrayl of what it would be like as a superhero, only none of this grim and gritty Alan Moore BS? Be still my heart. 

Also acknowledging that Batman basically has a superpower. Long story. But the description of the bat cave here will have you playing the Danny Elfman score from the Batman film in head.

Of course, Morgon gets her martial arts right. If she didn't, I think everyone who knows her would worry. And she does a good job of playing superhero chess -- how does Y superhero use X powers against Z and Z's powers. Even the execution of powers are well thought out.

Also, Morgon has a degree in Latin, so expect a ton of quotes and references from ... everyone. Peter Pan, The Aenid, The Illiad, The Odyssey, Greek myth, Roman myth, a few other myths. I do so enjoy it when the authors I read actively read other people .... and steal from them. It warms my heart. You get little bits like "He is Lancelot, not Arthur. Byt even Lancelot is better than Mordred."

And the moral of the story, as it usually is in classical mythology -- Pride kills.

Just get Heroes Fall: Heroes Unleashed Book 1, today. If you like superheroes, you'll enjoy it. If you like "literature," you'll enjoy it. Or fight scenes. Or action pieces. Or mysteries. Or Scifi. Or Fantasy.

Yeah. It's just plain fun.

While you're at Amazon picking up a copy of Heroes Fall, here, have some more superhero novels.

Hell Spawn  Death Cult

Jim McCoy Reviews Death Cult

I will not deprive you of the fun that is the review of Death Cult by Jim McCoy over on his blog.

I will however, give you a few samples if you don't want to start on his blog.

Ladies and Gentleman (and you in the back) I present to you a plot synopsis of Declan Finn's Latest Book, Death Cult.

Hi
OOF!
OUCH!
Dude, don't
He did?
Really?
That sounds like it hurt.
That had to have hurt
Them again
I'm not sure that's physically possible
I KNOW that's NOT physically possible
COOL!
HOT!
The End!

I don't know about you, but I found that funny as heck. Jim pretty much as the most entertaining reviews on a blog, so you read them for fun as much as you would the book.

For example

In Hell Spawn Saint Tommy fought a demon. It was ugly. There was lots of fighting and many people died to death. It was quite horrifying. I loved the book, but I was a bit worried. Don't get me wrong. Finn is a good author. But when you're writing Christian fiction and you go up against a demon, what comes next? 

.... I'm going to have to skip down the line of the review, otherwise I'm just going to be copying and pasting the whole review.

Finn has built his world very well. We're treated to some old friends and some new acquaintances and they all fit together nicely. I really like it when a book stays true to the universe it is written in. Death Cult does so nicely. The internal logic is consistent, the characters stay true to their own motivations. I don't mean that the book is predictable because it's not. There is, however, a difference between logical and predictable and Finn has found his groove here.

Yeah. This paragraph made me happy on a number of levels.

Trust me, I'm always worried about book two... don't even ask me why. I have no problem writing it, though I always look at it and say, "I didn't make this predictable, did I? This went fast enough, didn't it?"

I'm going to stop citing the review, and just tell you to go and read it. It's highly entertaining.

And of course, once you do that, you can buy Hell Spawn and Death Cult.  And if you have already done that, well then, you can go leave a review. Wouldn't that be fun?

Hell Spawn  Death Cult.

Catholic Reads declares Honor at Stake one of the best books of 2018

The headline pretty much says it all.

Declan Finn is proving himself to be the go-to guy for the campy fun adventure book that is just smart enough to completely subvert your expectations in ways that never fail to delight.

One of the strongest features of the novel and one of the most Catholic is how it establishes a sense of reality by a great balance of sincerity and dramatic irony. Finn has a way of making things look one way, and then revealing things to be exactly the opposite. It reminds me of Jesus saying he came to turn the world upside-down, and in a way, Finn seeks to do just that for Brooklyn via the lenses of vampire romance action horror (with light sci-fi and espionage elements). I loved its masterful use of dramatic irony and it’s a great portrayal of a young masculine perspective.

This book was also a nominee for the Dragon Award, a feat in and of itself for Indie & Catholic book

Just wait until they read Hell Spawn.

If you haven't read Honor at Stake yet, now would be a good time.

Playlist: Death Cult

Death Cult, the sequel to the Dragon Award Horror winner for 2019, Hell Spawn, is out and it's live.

.... Yes, I am that confident.

When I'm writing, I use music.

Lately, I've discovered Spotify, and it's opened up my music tastes.

For example, much of the book had a running theme.....

From Sabaton

Though I have to admit, I picked that deliberately. I had already tripped over Sabaton.  Trust me, had I known of The Last Stand while writing The Pius Trilogy, I would have had endless references to it throughout the novels.

And then, during the final shootout, I had Spotify on random.

And during this epic fight with the forces of Hell, I got .... this.

You can just imagine what the finale looks like.

Death Cult is out, it's live, and you can buy it here.

Death Cult, Chapter 3: Adventures in Investigation

Death Cult is officially released... if not this minute, then in about 3 hours, because Amazon is on Pacific time, the losers....

Anyway....

After Hell Spawn was finished, I knew that I needed to wrap up some loose ends.

But I didn't want to end the book with a lot of explaining. It would basically be a process interview.

But hey, wouldn't it make great recap in book 2?

I think it does.

Chapter 3: Adventures in Investigation

Both Alex and I were dressed to impress at the station. Okay, one of us was. I wore a solid black suit, with a police-blue clip-on tie (clip on because we don’t want to be throttled with our own neck wear) and overcoat. Alex’s suit was gray and wrinkled, with a skinny brown tie that may have been black in a former life. That life had long since faded.

Alex seemed to have finally calmed down. Along the way, I had helped a woman with her spilled groceries, then helped her walk a block out of the way. I didn’t think it was that far out of the way, but Alex seemed to be annoyed about it. (Seriously, it was one block, and the groceries were under twenty pounds.)

We walked into the police station together and had to walk around a stack of glass. I waved to the glazier. “Hey, Eric. This your last day?”

Eric Mahoney, a middle-aged, beefy fellow in a hard hat, scowled. “If I’m lucky. Seriously, what was it that made you people trash all of the glass in the building?”

“The perp got out of control,” Alex explained.

“Yeah, yeah, so you guys keep telling me.” Eric rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Seriously, one little guy on PCP, and he strings himself up? Did he have to work really hard to smash everything? And the vending machine, really? That, too?”

It was another moment I couldn’t exactly explain to him. The “junkie” had been a man named Hayes, who had been the first host of the demons within Christopher Curran. It was how the demon had targeted me before jumping into the serial killer.

“Pardon us, Eric.” I stepped around the glass, worried about the placement.

At which point, we ran into Internal Affairs.

* * *

The worst part about being me – a living Saint (for lack of a better term)-- was hiding it.

Obviously, I don’t mean that one has to lie about one’s good deeds. That would be idiotic. Just look at Mother Theresa. She didn’t hide what she did from day to day. And someone who is truly a saint is humble enough to acknowledge all the flaws of which we are aware, and hence usually do not advertise how good we are—because we know better. We know better, because we know what happens in our heads.

The problematic part of being a “living Saint” (which is oxymoronic, as all Saints are dead by definition) is being a Wonder Worker. Basically, a Wonder Worker has miracles performed through them. You wouldn’t think this was a problem … but when you’re a law enforcement officer, saying “I healed my wife of the knife wound to the throat” or “I bilocated a copy of myself onto the other side of the barricade” doesn’t exactly fit neatly into the average daily DD5 report NYPD officers have to fill out.

And if you have earned enough brownie points to actually be a Wonder Worker, lying isn’t a valid option. While being honest is good and virtuous, it is the sort of thing that gives you a first-class ticket to the funny farm.

So when Internal Affairs asks a question where the real answer involves you being in two places at once, it becomes imperative to become creative.

The two IA investigators who had been assigned to my were McNally and Horowitz, usually referred to as Statler and Waldorf. Don’t ask me which one was supposed to be which.

No, before you get confused, this wasn’t even about the event in my home. This wasn’t about my family shooting their way out for our own survival. No, this was about the “Rykers’ Riot” of two months before.

“How did you get past the police blockade to an island with only one path?”

“I was really fast,” was my answer. And I had been. I had to move really fast once my bilocated self materialized on the other side of the bridge, and the blockade. I didn’t want to be caught in the sights of the machineguns on the armored cars.

“Uh huh,” McNally huffed. “You going to tell me you just beamed on the other side of the fence?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t say that, you did.” It was also a fairly good description, too.

“And your wife?” Horowitz asked. “We took a closer look at your body camera video. Christopher Curran slashed her throat open. And yet she didn’t die? Care to explain that?”

I shrugged. “I always got the impression that any wound above the collar bone bled profusely. Artery in the arm, the throat, anything in the head. You’ll have to ask the paramedics. I’m not a doctor.” Notice, I didn’t lie. I just stated random facts and hoped they didn’t notice I didn’t even pretend to offer an explanation.

“How about the blood left at the scene around Curran’s body?” McNally asked. “There were at least two massive blood patches on the walls and floor around the body. How did that happen?”

My eyebrow went up. The question was phrased awkwardly, and strangely. Even better: no one had ever requisitioned my DNA for a crime scene. At most, they might have typed it. Unless someone routed through my trash for samples, they didn’t have proof that it was my blood.

Normally, I wouldn’t be too concerned with my blood at the scene. They saw me leaving Rikers Island. Everyone knew I was there. Everyone presumed that I personally put down the riot … somehow.

The official story involved me going in, breaking up some fights, and disrupting the pace and inertia of the riot. With the major players of the riot put out of commission, the riot dispersed. This was more or less what happened. If you replace “major players of the riot” with “the possessed.”

Part of the problem was that I had bilocated … in the end, I had actually done a four-way split, all but one of me dying in the line of duty. The bodies had faded away, but the blood remained. The two big pools of blood were mine, where I had been impaled with prison bars that had been made into spears. I didn’t know if my DNA would be the same coming from a duplicate, but I didn’t want to bet one way or another. Hopefully, no one outside of my wife would ever see me without my shirt on – every wound that killed me had stayed on my body as a scar.

“It was a prison riot. I presume there will be blood.” Especially since I had to slide through at least one hallway full of it, and none of it was mine.

“How did he die?”

“He fell on some bars, like a tiger trap. All I had to do was step out of his way when he came at me.”

“And you got no blood on you? At all?”

I shrugged, not answering. Again, that would require explaining that the body that walked out of Rikers wasn’t the body that walked in. Nor had I gotten into any direct fights the last time I bilocated.

Don’t worry if you’re confused. So was I, and I had been there and done that.

There were more questions, but I managed to stave them off with relative ease. I suspect that I had Help from Above with my little deceptions. While Christopher Curran and his personal demons had made no attempt to be subtle about their rampage, God was more low key.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to ask me about the incident in my home.”

McNally smiled. “Just you wait.”

“We’ll get there,” Horowitz said.

* * *

I sat at my desk in the back corner of the bullpen, planting my back against solid wall. I had no interest in getting taken by surprise. Alex was in on my clean little secret but I didn’t want to share if I could avoid it. I’d prefer to keep it between me and my confessor, but witnessing some of my abilities had dragged Alex and my wife into it. Jeremy just thought I was a superhero, but he’d thought that before I performed miracles. Unfortunately, Enemies from the Other Side also seemed to know about me. Apparently, sending demons back to Hell just allowed them to communicate better via infernal interoffice memos.

“How do you want to play this?” Alex asked. “As much as you’d like a piece of the case, I’m not sure you can. Or should.”

He had a point. There was a good reason officer-involved crimes weren’t investigated by said officer. I was the target of some obviously bad people and putting me out there was waving a red flag with crosshairs on it.

“I mean, what do we want to say?” Alex continued. “That Curran was really just part of some sort of cult and now they’re out to get you?”

I frowned. “Thing is … you might not be too far from the truth.”

Alex blinked as though I had struck him. “What? You saying there really is one?”

I leaned forward. While I was certain of my fellow officers’ apathy towards what I had to say, I didn’t want to take the chance of being overheard. “When Curran was gloating, he—it—told me that it had been summoned. Which means somebody, an actual person, deliberately brought the demon to Earth.”

Alex frowned, then leaned back in his chair. “You have nothing else?”

I shook my head. He leaned back further, lifting the front legs off of the ground. “Well, I see why you didn’t follow up with it. I’m not sure there were any leads to follow up with.”

I nodded. It was the exact reason why I didn’t want to bother. “Until now. With the symbols on the guys who broke in, there should at least be some sort of trail behind them.”

Alex held up a hand to slow me down. “Curran was a politically protected monster. Are you sure we want to play these games again?”

I frowned. Considering the lobby behind Christopher Curran and his day job as an abortionist, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that whoever was behind him had similar protection.

Alex continued. “I mean, if I’m not mistaken, when you get at least four people with demonic symbols everywhere, this counts as a cult. We could call the FBI and give it to them. After all, he was a serial killer, and this cult seems to connect to him. They do serial killers. These guys are at the very least serial killer adjacent. Why not give it to them?”

I nodded to concede his point. “That is all true. Except, who in the FBI do you think could stop them? What if they have another Curran up their sleeves? Unless you know if the FBI has their own squad to handle the occult for real.”

Alex said nothing but continued to frown, chewing that one over. We had all hoped that the nightmare was behind us. Unfortunately, I couldn’t imagine a situation where anyone else could have handled it without at least the exact same knowledge, resources and abilities that we’d had back then. And we were lucky. Maybe the Feds could have brought more manpower to bear. Or perhaps they would have shot Curran, had the demon jump bodies, and we would still be trying to figure out who and what the next perpetrator was.

Alex finally said, “How would you pitch it?”

I sighed. “The tats on our John Does tell us that it’s connected to the Curran case, and we were the leads. The fact that Curran’s buddies have targeted me just means that the case wasn’t actually closed yet, we just didn’t know it. They don’t take investigators off of an open case just because someone shoots at us.”

Alex shook his head. “That could be used against us. You didn’t make any friends by the time we were done with the Curran case. There’s rocking the boat, and then there’s hitting the boat with an iceberg. You, my friend, are an iceberg. And there’s a difference between being the target of a lone psycho and being the target of a cult bent on your death. I mean, heck, they could screw up and get me by mistake.”

* * *

Our Lieutenant eventually agreed with me. I think he was less swayed by the “open case” aspect of my argument and more swayed by the political angle that I was already involved. I had already pissed off everyone there was to piss off and having bigwig politicos be angry at one officer was better than being pissed off at the entire precinct.

Alex scoffed and said, “What am I? Chopped liver?”

When our Lieutenant added, “I know they’re the wrong tattoos but have you considered MS-13? I’m sure they’re still upset at you.”

I knew exactly where we were going to go that day.

Continue reading here.

Death Cult, Chapter 2: Clean up

The official release of Death Cult is in 24 hours.

Hopefully, you're looking forward to it as much as I am, especially after reading chapter one yesterday.

I did say that it started a little faster than book 1 did. Heh heh heh.

Now, one of the things that caused me to place Tommy Nolan in Glen Oaks is that it fit. It was a relatively enclosed community, with it's own small security force. It wasn't anything big, but it was enough to call the cops in case of emergencies.

.... Fat lot of good that did in Hell Spawn.

But sadly, after everything I put him through in Hell Spawn... yeah, there was no way in Hell that any community, no matter how open, no matter how relaxed they are, no way in Hell would Nolan be allowed to stay.

Then there's this.

Yesterday's post was chapter 1, so if you're behind, just click and you're right there.

Chapter 2: Clean Up

I waited outside my house as the street once more became a parking lot for police cars. The Glen Oaks Village Office, which ran this little community, had objected to the previous three times that this had happened. It scared the neighbors. It’s why this was the last day we would live there. At the very least, we would not have to be threatened with eviction. We were leaving in the morning.

A new car pulled up, parking at a fire hydrant just outside the crime-scene tape. Out strode an older man built like a bean pole. His cheap suit flapped on his thin frame like a scarecrow in a strong wind. He was bald right up the center, with a tonsure of gray hair around the back and sides. His jowls were covered in gray whiskers, as though some grew faster than others. There was a handlebar mustache that was barely on this side of neat. He was too old to be a millennial, but they sure loved his hair. Sorta the way he loved his mustache.

And I worked with him.

“So, Tom, if your place has been shot up twice, do they charge you double safety deposit?” my partner Alex Packard called out as he strolled up my walkway.

I gave him a casual shrug … as casual as one could be wearing a bathrobe outside in the coldest January on record.

“You forget,” I told him, “this is number three. There was MS-13, then the car through the front window, and maybe the Molotov to the front door. So, number four, really. Remember, there’s a reason we were ‘invited’ to leave.”

Alex nodded. “Yup. You’re hard on the upholstery.”

I rolled my eyes. Also the people of Glen Oaks Village weren’t all that friendly. Never mind that I had solved the murder of one of their own residents. Perhaps they just wanted to purge everyone involved in the incident. “Don’t ask me, I’m just the target. Take it up with the forces of Hell.”

Alex held up his hands. “No thanks. Last time was enough. More than.”

I couldn’t blame him. Christopher Curran and the legion of nightmares inside of him had come close to wrecking my family, my job, and my city. No one wanted to relive that spot of trouble. That included me, my partner, my wife, my son, the entire NYPD Emergency Services Unit, and the total population of Rikers Island.

I walked back into the house, and Alex came in with me. Uniforms were talking to Mariel and Jeremy. We were still out of earshot when Alex asked, “How’d they get in? Any sign of entry?”

I nodded to the uniforms. “They haven’t found anything during the search. Neither have I. Three guys came in, no signs of how.” I shrugged. “If these guys succeeded in killing us off, you wouldn’t know where to begin.” I frowned, thinking it over. “If they could get out as spotlessly as they came in, they could have made me look like a family annihilator.”

Alex gave a wrinkled smile and shook his head. “Nah. No one who knew you would buy that for a second. We’d start the investigation immediately by assembling a list of everyone you pissed off. Starting last week, and working backwards. I’d be done compiling the list sometime before I die of natural causes.”

I shrugged again as I considered all of the various and sundry people I had rubbed the wrong way during the Curran case. I had made enemies out of at least two movements and the employees of the “Women’s Health Corps,” and probably the ACLU. When the newspapers made me front page news, I had become fodder for every nutjob with an agenda and too much time on their hands, as well as every anti-cop. It was responsible for one of the three attacks on my home the previous year.

“Probably right.”

Alex chuckled. “I guess you’ll have plenty of time to move. No way anyone will let you work on this case.”

I gave him a small smile. I had thought of that. “We’ll see.”

Alex nodded to himself, probably working out his own angle on getting me on the case. “Have you checked them out for any identifying marks?”

I had to shake my head. “Didn’t get the chance. By the time I had the scene secured and got Mariel and Jeremy out, the unis were pulling up. They took over, and I haven’t been allowed near one of them—the bodies or the prisoner.”

“Understood.”

Alex wandered over into the dining room. Mariel was seated against the wall, since the table had already been packed up and away to the new house. Jeremy sprawled out partially on her lap, partially hanging off. He had fallen asleep. I guess after last time, when a demon-possessed serial killer held him at knife point, this was relatively boring.

Alex gave a little wave. “Hey Mariel. How’re you doing?”

Mariel gave him a wan smile. “I’ve been better.” She readjusted Jeremy and looked back to the uni, who finished making her notes, gave a quick nod, and wandered off.

Alex grabbed a chair and turned it around so he could straddle it. “So, walk me through it, from the top.”

It was over in fifteen minutes, after we retold the entire incident about six times. For an incident that took about thirty to sixty seconds, you’d be surprised how long it can take in the retelling. We went over our plans, the rehearsals, the guns. Explaining Jeremy’s gun was a problem. It was in my name, and Jeremy had used it. It was less a police issue and more a “New York City hates guns” issue. It wasn’t mandatory that every gun had to be locked away unless it was being used, though it often felt like it. I had to make certain to avoid all mention that the three of us considered it “Jeremy’s gun” in the reports. Don’t ask me to explain the city’s hatred of guns. The only good argument against guns in the city came from a visiting Texan who took one look at the crowded city streets and deemed them too unsafe for anyone to fire in self defense, because if the bullet went through the target, somebody else was going to get hit.

By the time Alex, Mariel, and I were done with that conversation, the meat wagon had arrived. Medical Examiner Holland strolled in. Two bruisers carried a stretcher behind her. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said that they were her personal security while she was on the job. But carrying dead weight around all day was probably better than a gym membership for building muscle.

Alex laughed at the stretcher. “You’re going to need another one for upstairs.”

The uniform looked up from the note pad, confused. “Another two.”

I looked over, startled. There had been two shots coming into the bedroom, and I would have sworn that the one in Jeremy’s room wasn’t that bad. “You have three dead up there?”

The uni arched a brow. “Why? Should there be more?”

“No. But one guy should be alive.”

“Really?” She shrugged. “I guess that’s why that one guy was handcuffed to the radiator.”

I frowned. That last perpetrator hadn’t been bleeding excessively, so it made no sense why he died. I looked to Holland. “Sorry, Sinead. More work for you.”

She laughed. “They made the mistake of breaking into your place. Their fault, not yours.”

They tramped upstairs and came down with the first body within ten minutes. I waved them to a stop. Now that the body was moved from where it fell, I figured it was time to follow through on something Alex mentioned.

Alex and I approached, and Holland nodded. “I thought you’d want a closer look.”

“If only to see if I knew the guy.”

Holland gave one of her sly smiled. “Oh, there’s something here you know.”

Holland pulled down the sheet. It was the corpse with the bullet graze on the forehead and one in the ear. He was shirtless, a feature I hadn’t seen in the dark. His upper chest was covered with a full artistic rendering of a man getting his heart ripped out and held up to the sun. It was the image of an Aztec ritual of human sacrifice.

It was also one of the many symbols left in blood at two of the crimes scenes of Christopher Curran, while he was possessed by a legion of demons.

I didn’t even look away when I asked my partner, “Think I can be on the case now, Alex?”

Alex winced. “Maybe. You can replace me. I don’t think I want any part of it.”

I nodded. I didn’t, either. But I didn’t think I would have a choice. The demon had promised, that the people who summoned it wouldn’t be happy with me. I had no reason to doubt it.

He frowned as the body was covered up and carried away. “You know what? I have a problem.”

“I thought you quit drinking.” I joked.

“Ha. Ha,” he stated flatly. He shook his head. “No. I mean that Curran …” He looked around and made certain that no one was close enough to hear him. His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, “You could smell him coming? Right? But you didn’t mention a thing about catching a whiff of these guys. Did they just walk in without you noticing until they were almost on you?”

I nodded with a frown. I had noticed what Alex meant. As part of being a Saint … Argh. Wonder Worker. I’m not a saint, I’m not dead yet. Why can’t we get better names for these things? … One of my abilities was to literally smell evil. I had caught the scent of the demons within Christopher Curran, even before I knew what they were, and even back when they were in a different human being. Like a blood hound, I could even smell the lingering stench of evil left behind at a crime scene, and follow it like a bloodhound. I’d even smelled it coming off a human once, as well as an entire building. But these killers had only given off a faint scent. Being connected to the demon should have caused a smell like a stink bomb.

What fresh Hell is this?

Death Cult can be purchased at Amazon right here.

Death Cult Chapter 1: Blowback from Hell

This is it.

Death Cult's official release is this Tuesday, December 11th.

But you don't have to wait that long.

Because here it is, Chapter 1.

Be warned, this one starts a little faster than book 1.

Chapter 1: Blowback from Hell

I was awoken from sleep to the sounds of my son screaming.

I pulled my service weapon from under my pillow. It wasn't procedure, but I'd had a strange year. My wife Mariel had also drawn her handgun. Large, human shapes appeared in our bedroom doorway. No one had shouted police, nor had they given any indication of who they were.

In short, we shot first, and aimed high. The first one went down easily. Mariel's bullet grazed his head, twisting it around. It made his ear the 10 ring, which I hit. The second one took three bullets in the chest and barely lost a step. The fourth bullet made him drop forward.

By this time, we were both on our feet and heading for Jeremy’s room. We hadn't practiced this often, but it had been a rough few months, and we were already hardwired.

I wheeled into the doorway of Jeremy’s room at a crouch. Mariel was at my back, watching for any other incoming from the stairs.

The man held my ten year old son off the ground with one arm, a gun to his head. The man was tall and narrow, swathed in brown leather. His hair was slicked back and slightly mussed from holding my struggling son.

Jeremy held his plushy Ninja Turtle, and seemed to be clutching it with both hands, though I couldn’t see his right hand. When we thought he was too old for stuffed animals, he argued that one is never too old for Donatello.

The man cocked his Beretta, and I knew there would be no discussion.

All I said was, “Please don’t hurt my family.”

The turtle exploded. So did the man’s knee. He lurched to one side. Most importantly, his gun went one way, and Jeremy dropped to the floor and rolled out from between me and the perp.

I fired. I didn’t shoot to kill, since I wanted him alive. (IA liked living perps). I was prepared for this, so I stitched a line of bullets into his gun shoulder. His arm dropped, and the gun tumbled from his fingers. I charged off the floor and caught him with a flying knee. He didn’t scream once, even when we crashed into the radiator and his other knee buckled.

I ended up on top of him, but he wasn’t discouraged. He threw an uppercut, driving his fist deep into my gut. The impact lifted me off the floor. I’d been lucky, he caught me on the exhale, otherwise the fight would have been over. (Trust me. You don’t want the wind knocked out of you. Ever) The terrible strength was familiar from the first, and only, supernatural creature I’d battled. It was why I shot for his shoulder joint. I knew firsthand that immobilizing the joint would disable even someone on PCP…Or one possessed by a demon.

With the first hit, I knew I didn’t want a second. I jammed the muzzle of my pistol into the crook of his elbow as he cocked his fist back for another blow. Then I blew his elbow out with a nine-mm jacketed round.

Without a sound, he stopped struggling.

I pushed myself to my feet and backed up, gun ready.

I didn’t take my eyes off the invader. “Mariel. Is Jeremy okay?”

“He is. I have him.”

I nodded and backed up. I kicked the exploded turtle to one side. I’d worked out plans with my wife and son, since the previous monster had tried to kill them both. We just executed scenario 1, variation B. One meant attack in the home. “B” was always a variation with Jeremy held, with his turtle. On my signal, Jeremy was to distract the felon holding him hostage.

The signal was Please don’t hurt my family.

At that point, Jeremy was to fire the .22-caliber pistol hidden inside Donatello.

Yes, a pistol for a ten-year-old. It wasn’t uncommon for seven-year-olds in some areas to have a .22 rifle, and wait a spell before a pistol. But it was mostly a matter of maturity. After Jeremy had directly encountered a demonic infestation, and a possessed serial killer and never throwing the first punch in all the schoolyard fights that followed, despite more than sufficient provocation. He didn’t even have nightmares. Think he’s mature enough?

We secured the threat, called it in, and got backup (even though village security was probably on it already).

As we went through the motions, one thing kept bugging me. The invader we captured had had his knee, shoulder, and elbow utterly destroyed. I’d slammed into him, adding my weight to his on his knee, and driving the wounded knee into the radiator.

He had never even screamed. Not once.

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