Book Review (SERIES): Quincy Harker Year Four

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I spend a lot more time talking about the Bubbaverse John Hartness created than the Quincyverse … although Canon has them sharing the universe. Hartness says it is because he can’t keep things straight. Quincy Harker focuses on a more traditional brand of Urban Fantasy, whereas Bubba is more humor-filled (and the humor is why I love it so).

Salvation: Quincy Harker, Demon Hunter Year Four by John G. Hartness

  1. She Talks to Angels
  2. Shout at the Devil
  3. Angel of Harlem
  4. Sympathy for the Devil

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON for SALVATION

The Quest for Glory comes to its thrilling conclusion in this Quincy Harker collection! Glory’s lost her wings, and Harker is running around collection Archangels like they’re Pokémon, but things go from bad to worse as he gets nearer to his final battle with the king of lies himself, Lucifer! Follow the adventures of Harker and the modern day Shadow Council as they try to save the world and restore Glory’s divinity.

MY REVIEW for SALVATION

The final four novellas of the Quincy Harker, Quest for Glory, have been collected in one volume: She Talks to Angels, Shout at the Devil, Angel of Harlem, and Sympathy for the Devil.

A well-done urban fantasy series beginning to end within the greater lore of the Quincy Harker universe. I loved how each of the angels had their own particular style and personality. The fight scenes are Quincy blow-outs – leveling mansions and erasing demons.

 

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BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON for SHE TALKS TO ANGELS

She’s part Harley Quinn and part Wynona Earp.
She’s the granddaughter of the greatest vampire hunter who ever lived.
She’s part of The Shadow Council, a secret group of people working to save the world.
She’s Gabriella Van Helsing, and she’s going to blow some crap up.

In the fifth part of the Quincy Harker crossover series, Gabby helps hunt down a rogue archangel in St. Louis, learning more about herself, about history, and about that cute doctor’s son than she expected when she took the gig. The fate of the world is in her hands, and now this non-magical woman from Chicago has to suit up and play in the metaphysical big leagues to hunt down The Voice of God and keep the Midwest from becoming Ground Zero for the Apocalypse!

MY REVIEW for SHE TALKS TO ANGELS

Gabby Van Helsing gets her own book in the Shadow Council Case Files and fills it cover to cover with action, humor, and her own version of mayhem. A gray hat – straddling talking to angels and drinking with demons (and trying to get dates with both) – Gabrielle will settle gun fights with grenades and magic battles with daggers.

John G. Hartness does put in one darling (technical editing term) into the book when Gabrielle joins a poker game. Long-time followers of Hatness knows he got his writing start in blogging about poker championships.

Two Jacks represents Gabby’s placement in the world perfectly. Not powerful enough to win on her own, usually, but with good enough support – she might-could rake in the pot. And she picks up an Ace supporting card – but can she keep him … and his very hot son … in her hand and on her side?

An action-packed and funny addition to Quincy Harker’s world.

 

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BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON for SHOUT AT THE DEVIL

The Quest for Glory continues as Quincy Harker travels west to hunt down a rogue Archangel and avenge the murder of a good friend!

For the past year, Quincy Harker and the Shadow Council have been hurtling toward a climactic confrontation with Lucifer for the fate of the world. That final battle moves ever nearer as Harker learns of the murder of an old friend in San Francisco. He puts his quest on hold to find his friend’s killer, but when he gets to the City by the Bay, he finds that his two cases are irrevocably entwined and leading to a cataclysmic confrontation that may leave all of San Francisco a smoking ruin!

Ah crap, aren’t angels supposed to be the good guys?

Well, nothing is ever easy with Harker and the gang!

MY REVIEW for SHOUT AT THE DEVIL

Quincy Harker may gain friends from time-to-time but few are old friends – as in, they reach an old age and die of natural causes. Faye Spataro, a West Coast water mage, unfortunately was not the exception to prove the rule. Happily married and now brutally murdered, Quincy investigates among the supernaturals in a town he is unfamiliar with, Sparato’s wife at his side seeking her own vengence.

Then Quincy finds the signs of an Archangel among the corpses of more of the city’s Talented.

While Quincy may be equal a tactical nuke in the supernatural world – capable of laying waste to city blocks, Archangels are the Yellowstone supervolcano. Without his normal team, can he (and the city … and the state and the country) survive when the Archangel of Death walks the Earth?

The normal action-packed magic-slinging Quincy Harker story with a side of police procedural thrown in. If you like Quincy, you’ll love this.

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BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON for ANGEL OF HARLEM

The Quest for Glory rushes toward its conclusion as Quincy Harker steps in for a missing Shadow Council member and goes to New York City to find the last Archangel. But when pieces of his past come back to haunt him, Quincy Harker must face feelings long buried and horrors brand new when the Big Apple and a band of angry demons try to take a bite out of him!

MY REVIEW for ANGEL OF HARLEM

A pitch perfect Quincy Harker story – magic and mayhem, unexpected twists, Harker cursing, emotions, amusement, and moving the Quest for Glory forward. Each angel finding gets harder and harder; and the final one comes with a nearly impossible price to pay.

This novella’s book buzz was so good, I’m scared to go into the next.

 

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BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON for SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

He’s collected Archangels like Pokémon. He’s battled monsters all over the country. Now he’s fighting his way through all the Circles of Hell to save a friend. In Sympathy for the Devil, The Quest for Glory concludes as Harker and Co. literally go through Hell to get Glory’s wings back!

It’s been a two-year quest that has spanned the continent, and now Quincy Harker, Charlotte, NC’s favorite (and only) Demon Hunter is crossing dimensions to do battle with Lucifer and restore his Guardian Angel Glory’s divinity. Harker and his band of merry angels, monsters, and humans set off to keep Lucifer from re-starting the War on Heaven, but things go sideways right from the jump.

How will Harker navigate the tortures and temptations of Hell to save his friend and the world?
Can Harker keep himself together in the face of everything Lucifer and his minions will throw at him?
Is he really hero enough to stand toe to toe with the Devil himself and come out alive?
Or will he fall prey to the “man of wealth and taste?”

MY REVIEW for SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

If you get told to go to hell often enough, you might end up there through no fault of your own. … But in Quincy’s case, it’s all on him.

The end of a two-year arc over lots of novellas, Sympathy for the Devil finishes the Quest for Glory and does a very good job on delivering on the buildup.

The falling action, though, in the epilogue, too predictable and common. Everything else though is pure Quincy Harker style.

Flash: Fallen Angel

Image by marcolm on FreeDigitalPhotos

“I’m so sorry.” The man hopped on one leg trying to get into his pants. “Sorry, so sorry. I… I’m sorry. Sorry.”

Sarif shyed her soulful, tear-filled eyes away from the man and his still excited prick, biting her abused bleeding lips. Hiding behind her blonde tresses, she turned her face into her shoulder, curling her legs to her body and gripping the angry red and purple bruises on her arms while holding the sheets to her breasts. Behind her, pure white wing spread wide, proclaiming her angelic heritage.

The man kept up his sobbing non-stop apologies, sticking his arms into the shirt and buttoning it up, missing several connections in his haste. He left one shoe behind when he slammed the door, running, trying to escape from his guilt. It chased him from the apartment and down the hall, into the rest of his life. Rage and self-hate grew daily as he never could forgive himself; anger at his unholy actions brought his fists up again and again, striking out at others in blame for his own failings, until his destroyed future crushed him.

Waiting, waiting, just in case he returned, Sarif held the pose, not moving, thinking on her short time with her rescuer. Just two days ago, the man had discovered her bruised, broken body from the side of the road after another one of the unending clashes with her opposites in the Battle. Caring and eager to help, he bathed her wounds while his eyes stared at her glowing soft wings. Her diety-blessed healing, restoring her within hours, astounded him further. Since he first lifted her up out of the muddy trench, the man never left her side, rapidly falling in love. Being human, sexual frustration slunk behind like a jackal, waiting for moments of weakness. Possession flared his emotions, one log upon another in the bonfire of his unhealthy desires: his angel, his love, his rescue, his female. Until the only thought remained, the coveting of heaven’s own, a single concept, — “his”.

Finally assured man wouldn’t be returning, Sarif started laughing. Full body shakes took her, slipping the sheet down perky, eternally-young breasts to pool around slim girl hips. Never had she had a man succumb to her temptations so quickly. A new benchmark for her to break. Why humans thought her kind were wrinkled, red, horned, and ugly, she would never understand. They were fallen angels; no one had taken their wings.

(Words: 409; First published 10/27/2019)

Author Spotlight: Leann M Rettell

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Another one of “my” authors, Leann M. Rettell has been amazing to work with.

For The Dream Thief, Ms. Rettell has created an entirely new Urban Fantasy creature – the Dream Thief. One part Angel, one part Sandman, the double-handful of dream thieves have lived among us since dreaming started, protecting humanity from dreams gone wrong. The challenge, aside from sneaking into bedrooms, is many dreams start with the greatest of intentions including the ones which could end humanity. And Malcolm just missed one of those.

I’m always amazed at the ingenuity of writers to come up with new ideas and then execute them in tightly crafted narratives. She and I did a lot of back and forth until I fully understood her creation. The timeline is complicated, layered throughout Books 1 and 2 of the Hands of Time series, covering multiple Thieves and spanning the world. This wasn’t an easy series to construct.

One secret about our relationship, she is a visual writer. She provided me pictures with the bios of each of the Dream Thieves in the Series Bible. Very pretty little Thieves. I may have drooled  over Obadiah and Lysander. *Sigh*

Want a little something new in your Urban Fantasy world? Try The Dream Thief.

Flash: Crawling

Digital art from freedigitalphotos.net

Crawling. Zebedee hated crawling. Winged angels should fly, and if they couldn’t do that, if they had legs, they should at least be walking.

His wings brushed the unseen roof again. It kept getting lower and lower. Something had to be an illusion. Either the endless white Lucia transported him to or the ever-shrinking box. Which sense was lying to him, touch or sight?

Neither the rough and splintered distressed wood floor of the club nor the thick silk plush hand-knotted antique Persian carpet underneath the pretend throne where Lucia reigned from were revealed to his ultra-sensitive fingertips. Only endless nothing. White above, white below. A nothingness unlike anything he had experienced before. The only thing he felt was the roof lowering onto the thousands of feathers capable of gauging air pressure, wind, and dozens of other datum needed when flying. The only feedback letting him know he still existed somewhere. Claustrophobia swallowed half his reason.

A whisper.

He heard a whisper.

A clink, laughter, mocking laughter.

Had he been transported at all?

Was he crawling around Lucia’s nightclub with her mob watching? He, Zebedaios, avenging angel? On hands and knees before that rabble?

Only he wasn’t an avenging angel anymore, but a protecting one.

Avenging angels only needed sight, to see miles in a dive, and touch for flying. All other senses were neglected for these two all important ones. But when Zeb had been assigned to Earth … to Dawn … he had been remade. Something Lucia, in her Fallen state, had not experienced.

She may be able to manipulate senses she understood, but the other three senses gifted to him for his new responsibility may be beyond her magicks.

And the demon-witch would not pass on the chance to torment Dawn while demeaning Zebedee. Dawn would be here, somewhere, if here was a place covered by an illusion. Dawn, the human he was tuned to. He should be able to hear her. Smell her. … taste her … no, not that … that thought leads to the Fall.

Hear. Ignore the white, the crushing non-roof. Only concentrate on hearing, however foreign that might be. Ears used to only hearing the rush of winds or the screams of battle search for … a muffled grunt, anger, … very angry. Dawn’s eyes would be sparkling.

That way. Who was near her? A scuffle with weight to it. Baal. Then Phil would be to the right.

Positive he was no more naked, defenseless, than he was in a No-Place, Zeb took the leap of faith normally reserved for humans and jumped forward to where his charge was.

The spell shattered around him and people scattered as he crashed through sycophants toward Lucia’s throne where Dawn was prisoner.

He had given up many things when he volunteered as a Guardian, but his Sword of Vengeance was not one of them. And, unfortunately on many levels, neither was his pride.

And they had made him crawl!

(words 492; published 4/3/2014; republished new blog format 5/5/2019)

Flash: Following Orders

http://budireve.deviantart.com/art/Keris-Fire-Sword-312072387
Copyright unknown, but a button on the website was provided to facilitate the download.
I am providing the link above to give credit as best as I am able.

Strewn with blood and bone, the celestial battlefield had no dead bodies for only the immortal angels fought. Feathers and skin burned as fiery swords melted through exhausted defenses. The raqia below formed and turned for untold eons only noticed by the opposing armies as a down direction. A few angels had fallen towards the new planet when wings had been clipped, but mended long before hitting ground and the beings immediately returned to the ranging maelstrom.

In the conflict’s center stood proud Lucifer, an angel who questioned his purpose and demanded free will. His army formed a protective sphere around their assigned general. Michael, Uriah, Gabriel and Raphael were unable to drive their undying legions through the blockade to the heavenly traitor.

The swirl of battle broke combatants apart and reunited others. Beyond the immediate strife, Kamella protected a pathway. The Supreme Being had plucked her out of Michael’s soldiers. She was pleased to stand guard while the Supreme Being crafted a new plane of existence. Firstly, being chosen was an honor. Secondly, defending the way removed her from the possibility of crossing blades with Herne. For untold eternities they had delighted each other. Assigned to different archangels, no restriction was placed on their relationship. Now that blessing turned into a curse.

Only a few of Lucifer’s rebels escaped the four armies surrounding them. Kamella dispatched the depleted minions quickly. Skilled in war as few angels were before Lucifer’s ego selfishly consumed him, her great stature allowed her to stand easily against two or three angels by herself. The midnight winged creature wielded two fire swords and two shields, leaving two of her six hands free for grappling.

Outside the primary engagement, she watched and worried. Somehow Lucifer was slowly gaining and the outer defense sphere leaked. More and more opposition tried to investigate the road she defended. None passed over the threshold.

A spike attack broke combatants free from the center. Dozens of multi-hued beings were funneled to her post and the broad paved avenue beyond. Several had form-changed into ferocious visages. At their front was a golden haired angel who remained in the form he had been shaped to hold. His black eyes flashed in his perfect face. In his left hand was a blue-flamed sword. His right hand curled in a half-formed charm. Herne, the love of her existence and one of Lucifer’s best scout captains, closed on her position.

Not wanting to see what her clever male was about to release, Kamella completed the three-in-one spell she kept at ready for an organized mass attack. Two clones flew out to meet the new arrivals; black avenging angels plunging into the fray against the servants of the Angel of Light. Flame and steel clashed with renewed fury. Herne’s charm failed when one of his companions severed wing fell on him.

Without hesitation Kamella attacked Herne when he came to rest relative to her. His scouting group’s armor and battle skills wavered under her other selves’ fury. Blinking back tears, she effortlessly blocked his attack with one uplifted shield and drove her right sword into his hip. She whispered, “I’m sorry,” as he fell to his knees.

Her regret did not keep her from using her left side shield to throw Chase’s attack out of line. Grabbing Herne’s closest friend and second-in-command with her two free limbs, she lifted him with a grunt and threw him at an incoming monstrosity. Her own huge size made dodging difficult but the collusion displaced the flyer enough to miss her and sail past the nexus she guarded.

Herne tried to use the diversion to roll past her. She kicked his burning side with her booted foot.

“Please don’t make me do this.” She begged.

Grabbing her boot to topple her, Herne replied. “We must serve as we were created, my heart.”

Her red tipped wings caressed his face as they pushed him closer to her legs. She used his recentered mass to increase her personal balance. Her black and his white feathers mingled in a parody of embrace.

She needed to concentrate on eliminating his squad. With regret, she drove a sword through his leg to prevent him from sneaking past. His scream pierced her.

Turning her face to where her last duplicate fought, Kamella’s blue eyes widened as she watched the sphere surrounding Lucifer explode out with the force of a nova. Angels boiled towards her in the hundreds.

Bracing herself forward against the wind of beating wings, she fell at the sudden pressure change on her back. She burned her hand grabbing the sword she pinned Herne with to prevent him further injury. She used the fiery steel to pivot and landed hard on her side beside him, pulling the sword lose. Her large wings protected them both as the Supreme Being’s presence passed over them, returning to the celestial arena.

*ENOUGH! THOU WILT HOLD*

Even Lucifer’s minions froze at the command. For too long the Being they been created to worship had been absent. Everywhere swords lowered and the choir started offering adoration.

Herne’s limited two arms devoted themselves entirely to encircling her waist, hugging her closer during the moment’s peace. Without thinking Kamella’s chin rubbed the blond’s hair in affection.

Muffled by their wings, the coupled barely heard Lucifer resonant voice rallying against his Liege.

Kamella grasped the white angel’s face with two hands. Just before she captured her favorite lips, Herne whispered, “I will love you forever.” Covered by angel wings, the two kissed.

*A PLACE HAS BEEN PREPARED FOR YOUR RULE. MAY YOU LEARN HOW TO DO SO.  NOW GET THEE AND YOUR LEGIONS HENCE.*

Rolling onto her back before her greater weight crushed him, Kamella howled as Herne was torn from her arms with one final Word from the Supreme Being to Lucifer.

*BEGONE*

Grabbing with her half dozen hands, she tried to capture him before he was exiled from her plane of existence. Her enormous strength allowed her to succeed. Tapping the ability to change shape, she transformed her feet into claws to anchor herself to the firmament. Blue eyes met black in fear and desperation. Created as mirrors to each other, they had only tolerated the rebellion knowing when it was over they would be reunited. His legs were being tugged into the whirlwind siphoning Lucifer and his followers. Her arms bulged as she tried to save him.

“No!” she cried.

In the end, the Word of the Supreme Being determined the outcome. Even their immortal flesh could not deny the instruction. Herne twisted and turned as the whirlwind worked to free him from her grasp. Both wrists holding him back shattered as she tried to absorb the worst of the torque to save him pain. Bones burst through skin, covering her arms and hands with slippery blood. Before her other hands could grasp his forearms, Herne was snatched away.

Kamella collapsed in anguish as Herne’s face disappeared screaming down the path she had guarded for so long.

Others returned to their appropriate levels in heaven. Locking her agony away, Kamella picked up her swords with her quickly healing hands and returned to her post. The Supreme Being had not changed her orders.

None shall pass over the threshold without permission.

Facing towards Lucifer’s realm, Kamella’s long watch started. The black she searched for scouts foreshadowing the Fallen’s next attack only reminded her of eyes she would never see again.

(words 1,239 – originally published 4/3/2013 – published in new blog format 5/6/2018)