I received a fan letter a few days ago from parts unknown, the way of the internet. He’d read Circuit of Heaven and End of Days with pleasure and had scored an old copy of The Fourth World he planned to read next. “Keep up the good work,” he concluded his kind and much appreciated letter, and I told him about my last published novel, The Bright Spot, published under a pseudonym to trick Barnes & Noble (who mattered in those days) to putanother book of mine on the shelves when I’d proven myself a poor product with paltry sales.
After my fashion, I have kept up the good work, writing several short stories that have found their way into the world and a few novels that haven’t despite the effortsof more than one literary agent to persuade publishers that this time Danvers will sell big enough to justify their blessing, small print run, and lukewarm support. I’m rather fond of these orphaned efforts, and I’ve never written for the money. I have enough glowing reviews of my seven novels under my belt to feed any author’s ego for some time to come, and my opinion of capitalism is well known to anyone who’s read my work.
Inspired also by friend and fellow author Tom De Haven‘s serial novel project I highly recommend, King Touey available at his blog Café Pinfold, I’ve decided to publish my favorite of these orphans here on my blog, in six parts for the next six weekends before Christmas. For easy reading, the program Send to Kindle will translate it and send it to a Kindle reader on computer or phone or whatever for free, or you can read it off the blog.
So here it is, just in time for the holiday season, a gift to my readers, no strings or price attached, though comments are always appreciated, a new novel, Bad Angels. It’s an urban fantasy, a comic romance, one from the heart. Thanks for reading.
Chapter 1: Look at Me
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert—
Percy Bysshe Shelley, from “To a Sky-Lark”
Wings. You might think they sound wonderful. But this human town isn’t made for wings. Not if you’re trying to go unnoticed like Shannon. She’s fallen, rebel, outcast, whatever term suits. Angel. Don’t get too excited. It’s not that great.
She’s been looking for a lone drunk for an hour, but people seem to be actually taking this designated driver thing seriously. Nobody’s cut off from the herd. Nobody’s in that sweet suggestible zone, putty in her hands. Putty enough to get her out of here.
She saw the twinkling in the eastern sky, now just turning a dusty rose. They’re on her trail. Why can’t they give it up, let the world turn, let humans keep screwing up like they do best, mucking along? No. They’re angels. They know best, or think they do. And they want her back where they think she belongs so they can explain to her how she doesn’t fit in. They’re afraid she’ll damage them, the humans, but Shannon likes humans. As a matter of fact, she likes them a Hell of a lot better than most angels. (more…)
