Showing posts with label Dark Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dark Fantasy. Show all posts

15 November, 2011

Exclusive - Demon Squad 3: At the Gates by Tim Marquitz chapter 3

I've said it before and I'll say it again, author Tim Marquitz is the man. From zombies to demons to skulls and even epic fantasy, he delivers when it comes to dark fantasy. He's also been kind enough to let me post chapter three of the next installment of the Demon Squad series, At the Gates (Demon Squad 3).

Find Chapters one and two and the new short story Betrayal at the respective links.


Chapter Three


My breath huffed like a freight train as I rounded the corner where the
figure had disappeared. There was nothing but open space. I let my senses
loose and pushed them to their limit, a billion-legged octopus freed to
wiggle its receptive tentacles into every nook and cranny, seeking the
shadowy figure. Again, they could find no one. Whoever had been watching
us was gone.

Frustration boiled over into a scream, my throat ripped raw with its
intensity, an acid bath of emotion. My chest tightened as my lungs cried
out for air. A cyclone of ugly thoughts whirled inside my head, begging to
be unleashed on whoever had masterminded the storm, and on the voyeur
whose cheap thrill came at the expense of innocent lives.

Katon and Scarlett dashed around the corner and stopped cold when they saw
me. Michael brought up the rear, coughing as he struggled to breathe. I
could see the worry on their faces and could only imagine what I looked
like to them. It didn’t really matter right then.

Finally, when I could scream no more, I let my voice trail off. I took a
minute to regain my composure before joining them.

“We’re in way over our heads. Let’s go talk to Abe.”

His expression wary, but agreeable, Katon nodded.

****

Through the gate at my house, we arrived at DRAC after just a few minutes.
We appeared in the secure entry room that every portal into the main DRAC
headquarters is funneled. A silver pentagram was inscribed on the floor,
its points surrounded by the summoning circle we’d use to port in. Carved
into the walls was a massive array of defensive wards designed to take out
most any supernatural threat. I’d never known their specific use, and
would happily live my life without seeing the business end of them.

Hidden alongside the wards were a number of jets that could fill the room
with poisonous gas in seconds. To top it all off, the ceiling was a thirty
ton weight, powered by a massive system of hydraulics, designed to be
dropped on unsuspecting enemies, turning them into jelly. That one always
made me nervous.

My focus was on the roof until the security scans finished, and the door,
set flush with the walls, swung open with a whoosh to let us into DRAC
proper. Chivalry and consideration saved for when I wasn’t at risk of
being smooshed, I hightailed it out of the chamber as fast as I could,
nudging past the security officer standing outside.

“I’m with him.” I pointed to Katon and kept walking. The officer sighed
and stepped aside, not bothering to argue. He knew me.

Through the labyrinthine halls, we made our way to Abraham’s office, sans
Michael. He’d gone off to rally his men. Given the widespread nature of
the strange storm, he was gonna have his hands full trying to keep this
one under wraps.

Having spent a while sleeping on the couch in Abraham’s office while my
house was rebuilt, it felt almost like coming home. I barged in without
knocking. The decadent scent of old knowledge wafted out to greet me. Rows
upon rows of old books stood neatly arranged on a handful of shelves along
the back wall. They ran the gamut from magical tomes to historical texts,
encyclopedias to archaic religious works. Many of them were so rare as to
exist only here, in this room. They were Abraham’s pride and joy.

Unlike his desk, which looked like an orphan from Clutterville, dozens of
stacks of manila folders and papers littered its face. His computer was
covered in a colorful assortment of sticky notes. Tiny black slivers of
his monitor showed through between them, here and there.

Abraham peeked out from behind the piles and gave us a grim nod, mustering
a weak smile for Scarlett. His glasses amplified the green of his eyes and
he stared at us with subtle apprehension twitching across his face.

He’d taken to shaving his head. Most of his white hair having gone to
pasture already, it made him look younger, more vital. The consummation of
his relationship with Rachelle Knight, the third member of DRAC’s
triumvirate of power, a powerful mystic in her own right, had helped, no
doubt.

“Judging by the looks on your faces, this isn’t a social call.”

With a huff, I dropped into one of the large chairs out in front of his
desk as Scarlett sat in the other. Katon stood behind her, his posture
uncharacteristically protective. While a bit surprised by Katon’s show of
propriety, I put it out of my head. There were more important things to
worry about.

“Is it ever?” I answered.

Abraham shook his head, forced to agree. We caught him up on everything,
starting with Scarlett showing up at my door and ending with the storm.
When we were done, he slid his glasses off, dropping them on the desk, and
sat back in the chair with one hand rubbing at his temple.

“This isn’t good.”

That, ladies and gentlemen, is why he’s in charge.

“Ever hear of anything like that?”

“No. It’s an anomaly we’ve yet to encounter.” He motioned beyond the door.
“Rachelle sensed a mysterious building of energy minutes before you say
the storm struck, though she had no idea what had created the flux. Your
information might help us determine its cause and at least now, we’ll know
when one is building.”

“For all the good it’ll do us. That thing took out four city blocks in the
time it took me to scratch my ass, Abe. A minute or two isn’t gonna give
us time to evacuate anyone, let alone defend against it.”

“Some warning is better than none, Frank. We’ll take what we can get.” He
waved me to silence, turning to look at Scarlett. “Could this have
something to do with Gabriel’s assault upon Eden?”

She sat silent for a moment, and then shrugged. “It’s possible, though I’m
not sure how. He and Michael are on the front lines, and have been since
the attack began. Uriel and Forcalor would crush their forces should
either of the archangels withdraw from the field.”

Abraham exhaled slow as he clearly pondered everything he’d learned. “I’ll
gather what forces we have available, but they will hardly be adequate for
Uriel’s purpose. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you otherwise.”

“I understand,” Scarlett replied with a fractured smile, her voice little
more than a whisper. Katon gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, smiling
down at her.

“What about Baalth?” Abraham asked me.

“He’s got the power for sure, it’s just whether there’s something in it
for him. He’s not gonna jump to save Heaven unless it advances his
interests, especially considering the history there. I don’t see him being
excited enough to pitch in on this one.”

“It can’t hurt to ask.”

I chuckled, thinking about just how much it could hurt to ask. “I’ll see
what he says.” Or throws, or kicks, or burns. Just recently free of all my
obligations to Baalth, I wasn’t looking forward to mortgaging my ass to
him again.

“Find out what you can about the Nephilim,” Abraham said, turning to
Katon. “Their gathering near Eden cannot be a coincidence. Perhaps they
know something that will aid us.”

Katon slowly reclaimed his hand, nodding to Scarlett who returned a wan
smile. He looked reluctant to leave. After a moment of tense silence he
did, closing the door loudly behind him.

Abraham raised an eyebrow Spock-like, but said nothing. He didn’t have to.
He was king when it came to speaking without words.

“This can’t all be a coincidence, can it?”

Abraham shook his head. “I don’t believe so, but without more information,
there’s no way to be sure. I’ll start gathering our people. Perhaps by the
time we’re ready, we’ll know more.”

Frustrated that we were just as much in the dark as we were when we’d
arrived, I said goodbye to Abraham, intent upon scampering off to Old
Town. Scarlett tagged along looking like a lost puppy dog.

After we’d scrounged her up some clothes to wear, I stopped off at the
armory and re-equipped myself, swiping a pair of guns and plenty of
ammunition—the DA slayers—and made for the portal room.

It was never a bad idea to have an arsenal when going to visit Baalth.

15 September, 2011

Demon Squad: Resurrection by Tim Marquitz

I may have mentioned I'm a huge fan of Tim Marquitz. Ever since I read his amazingly hilarious Armageddon Bound, it's been my goal to get more people to read his work by any means possible. Yup, nothing is too far when it comes to Frank Trigg.

When Tim sent me a copy of the sequel to one of my favorite books of 2009, I was overjoyed. You may then ask yourself why it took me this long to finally read it. I can promise that it's not for lack of quality, only for lack of time.

Demon Squad: Resurrection [US] [UK] [Kindle], Book 2 in the Demon Squad series, follows almost directly after Armageddon Bound. Frank Trigg "don't call him Triggaltheron" finds himself in the middle of yet another end of the world disaster. I guess that's what you have to expect when you're the nephew of Lucifer, also once slated to be the next Antichrist.
Armageddon averted, the world returns to business as usual. Unfortunately for Frank "Triggaltheron" Trigg, business as usual sucks. His night out interrupted by a horde of kidnapping zombies, what could possibly be worse? The resurrection of the Anti-Christ, that's what. Caught in the middle of a supernatural pissing match between the Devil's wife, a legion of undead, and an overachieving necromancer, Frank must survive long enough to stop Hell from being unleashed upon humanity; Again.
Still working with DRAC (Demon Resistance and Containment), an organization of wizards, psychics, and telepaths, Trigg is a witness to a zombie massacre at his favorite seedy nightclub, well, it works for him at least. These zombies seem to be popping up all over the place as favors are called in and Frank must do what he can to stay alive.

Frank Trigg is still as hilarious as ever in this sequel and that's one of the main reasons that will always have me coming back to this series over and over again. His observations have me dying laughing, even out loud sometimes and only Kurt Vonnegut has ever made me do that before. There did seem to be an overabundance of pants tightening in this one though, but I guess that's just how Frank rolls.

Going right along with the humor, Tim Marquitz bashes you over the head with awesomeness through his action scenes. I end up reeling by the end and I'm just a casual reader, come on man, give me a break. But seriously, Resurrection is action-packed and tons of fun.

Inevitably, I end up comparing this series to the Dresden Files and it really does make sense. Both are first person, both have a down-on-his-luck protagonist who's always the worse for wear in pretty much any situation and both tend to be humorous. But, for my money, the Demon Squad series beats the Dresden Files any day.

Let me also just say that the way things ended up had me very happy especially with the possibilities to come. The sequels cannot be available quick enough.

Why Read Demon Squad: Resurrection?

I was extremely happy to find out that Resurrection continues the high standard set forth in Armageddon Bound. The Demon Squad series is full of action, full of hilarity, and mostly full of heart...well, bloody ones pumping out their last ounce.

If you like fun, laughs, and any type of happiness, and don't mind some irreverance along the way, you should really give this series a go. Highly recommended!

4 out of 5 Stars

A copy of this book was provided by the publisher