Monday, May 6, 2013

Blog Tour: Greater Treasures Mini-Review


After a Fios installation that came a day early, we're back.

Again, I'm going to mention that A Pius Man is free on Kindle every Friday this month. Feel free to try it out, and then buy the book a few times later. Thanks. :)

Now, the mini review.



The plot:


Being a private detective in the border town of the Faerie and Mundane worlds isn’t easy, even for a dragon like Vern. Still, finding the wayward brother of a teary damsel in distress shouldn’t have gotten so dangerous. When his partner, Sister Grace, gets poisoned by a dart meant for him, Vern offers to find an artifact in exchange for a cure. However, this is no ordinary trinket—with a little magic power, it could control all of mankind. Can Vern find the artifact, and will he sacrifice the fate of two worlds for the life of his best friend?



Review: I recommend that if you haven't read the Vern novels yet, please read this first.  It's nice, short, and to the point, representative of the other books in the series, and a whole .99 cents on Kindle, and it's highly amusing if you've ever seen The Maltese Falcon.



I only have one problem with this, mainly because I read the last Vern book -- we're going to Sister Grace in the hospital? Again?



Other than that. it's fun. Go see the Maltese Falcon -- it must be on tv somewhere -- then read Greater Treasures. You won't be disappointed.









Excerpt:








Given
the day I was having, it came as no surprise that when I got home, I found the
dogs sprawled in a drugged sleep and the sounds of things being overturned from
within the warehouse. I decided not to bother with subtlety, but I did resist
the urge to burst in with flames going full-blast. I had questions first.
Naturally,
I walked straight in to find an automatic weapon—yep, a bona fide black-market
AK-47—and I thought only Faerie lived their clichés—and six other weapons of
various types pointed at me. I didn't stop, just closed the door with my tail
while I strolled in slow and placid-like. My visitors had shaved heads, faces
painted white with clown paint, and black t-shirts with swastikas in white
circles.
"If
you're the housekeeping service, you're fired."
 


"You
stay right there, or we gonna fire you!" said one guy from the sidelines
as he held his nunchucks at the ready.
What'd
he think he would do—whack me on the nose? I turned to the one holding the
assault rifle. "Scraping the bottom of the barrel with that one, weren't
you?"
 


"He's
right. You just stay still while we search the place."
 


"The
place" was a ten-thousand square foot warehouse with offices on the upper
floor. Boxes I still hadn't opened line the walls and made a maze in the second
warehouse room. I settled myself on the floor and rested my head on my crossed
arms. "Go ahead. I get half of anything you find."
 


They
stared at me, unbelieving. I smiled back. Mr. Cooperation, that's me. Finally,
Big Gun snarled for the others to get to work. As he turned his back on me,
Nunchucks muttered, "I got your half. Don't think I don't." Guess he
learned such witty repartee in Hitler Youth Summer Camp.
I
watched and listened and waited. With eight teenage skinheads trashing my
place, it was only a matter of time.
"I
wouldn't go in there if I were you," I suggested as Nunchucks made a grab
for the doorknob to Grace's workshop.
"You
gonna stop me?" He turned the knob.
"Nope,"
I said as I closed my ears and my eyes. Even so, I saw the otherworldly light
and heard the harmonious roar of Divine Vengeance followed by Mundane screams.
"The
Heavenly Host on the other hand…"
 


I
waited until the screams died down to whimpers before opening my eyes and
rising.
Four
of the skinheads were unconscious. Three may as well have been; they were
curled up in the fetal position, whimpering. Nunchucks was actually crying for
his mommy. Big Guns had collapsed to the floor as well, the gun thrown away
from him. He was sitting and rocking and making high-pitched keening through
the roof of his mouth.
I'd
tell Grace to tone down her wards some, except that the effect is directly
proportional to the evilness of the intent. Suddenly, I was feeling a little
shaky about my earlier entrance.
Knights
out of the armor now. I went around, collecting weapons in the office trash can
and poking through pockets. I found the usual stuff—driver's licenses, credit
cards, petty cash… One kid had a condom; wishful thinking on his part, I knew.
Another had a report card. MLK High. Wonder if he was the one beating up Faerie
kids? Honor roll grades, too. Of all the years I've battled evil, there were
still some things I didn't understand.
As I
was returning Big Guns' (aka Rick Matherston's) wallet back into his jacket
pocket, he blinked and focused on me.
"What
was that?"
 


"Angels,
kid." Actually a kind of magical shadow of the real thing, but close
enough.
 


"But I thought angels
were—"
 


"There's
a reason why their first words are usually 'Fear not!' whenever they meet a
human."
His
eyes returned to their unfocused stare. I almost felt sorry for him. Then I
noticed the letters FARISLAR tattooed on his knuckles. Faerie slayer.


2 comments:

  1. Thanks for the review, John. Sister Grace actually doesn't get hurt all that much. Vern racks up the vet bills. These two stories just happened to come out of the hopper first. Grace thanks you for your concern, though. :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. BTW, The Maltese Falcon is on netflix.

    ReplyDelete