And Blue Skies From Pain

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Authors: Stina Leicht

BOOK: And Blue Skies From Pain
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Table of Contents
 
Critical Acclaim for Stina Leicht’s
Of Blood and Honey
 
 
 
 
“Riveting. A remarkable thriller that brings together the personal and the political and uses the fantastic to examine the forces that have driven the recent history of the troubles in Northern Ireland. An extraordinarily exciting read that makes me want to use phrases like fast-paced, spell-binding, and couldn’t put it down.”
—Eileen Gunn, author of
Stable Strategies and Others
 
 
“Of Blood and Honey
is remarkable! It was a compulsive read—I had to finish it as fast as possible and will be waiting impatiently for the next.”
—Kat Richardson, author of
Greywalker
 
 
“Set in the Ireland of the Troubles, before the recent détente, this fraught debut captures the backdrop of tension and choosing sides that overlays even the smallest act. The lingering effects of the Kesh and Malone prisons are gut-wrenchingly convincing.”

Publishers Weekly
 
 
“With an expert blend of classic Irish fantasy tropes and a gritty, realistic portrayal of the IRA circa early 1970s, Leicht offers one of the more distinctive and powerful novels of the young decade.”
—Jeff VanderMeer, author of
City of Saints and Madmen
 
 
“Stina Leicht’s
Of Blood and Honey
is a captivating debut that seamlessly blends together historical drama with supernatural horror and dark fantasy, bringing to mind the excellent Danilov Quintet by Jasper Kent… a dazzling debut that will hopefully receive the attention and praise that it deserves.”
—Robert Thompson,
Fantasy
Literature.com
 
 
“…a novel you can’t quite call traditional fantasy, nor urban fantasy, nor alternate history. Whatever you call it,
Of Blood and Honey
doesn’t mess around. It comes at you like a car bomb. This is fantasy by way of Ken Loach, not Peter Jackson.”
 
 
 
“The pacing and atmosphere of
Of Blood and Honey
are truly phenomenal, making it a contender for 2011’s best debut.”

Ranting Dragon
 
 
“It’s a rough read. Brutal in spots. Surprisingly tender in others. As a debut goes for Stina Leicht, it’s a marvelous one.”
—Josh Vogt,
Examiner.com
 
 
 
“Not since Jim Butcher’s
Storm Front
have I read an Urban Fantasy that has felt so relevant to the overall discussion of Fantasy literature.
Of Blood and Honey
is Fantasy that deserves to stand alongside the best that authors like Powers, Gaiman and De Lint have to offer…. If you’re bored of the same ol’ Epic Fantasy, or you need a break from spaceships, hyperdrives and anti-grav suits, cleanse your palette with
Of Blood and Honey
and find out just how good Urban Fantasy can be.”
—Aidan Moher, Best Speculative Fiction Blog nominee for
A Dribble of Ink
 
 

Of Blood & Honey
offer[s] truly well-crafted and yes, original and imaginative takes on familiar tropes…. We tell the same tales forever and again, and call them myths, or in the case of these books, fine novels.”

Agony Column News
 
 

Of Blood and Honey
is Leicht’s début novel and it is one of the better novels I have read this year.”
—Rob Weber,
Fantasy Book Critic
 
 

Of Blood and Honey
isn’t one of those happy-go-lucky stories where everything is roses and the hero wins everything he ever dreamed of. It is one of those books that pulls you forward from chapter to chapter until you reach the end.”
—Rie Sheridan Rose, author of
The Luckless Prince
 
 
“This book won’t make you happy and will, in all likelihood, make you want to cry, but when you’ve finished it, you’ll be glad that you decided to read it.”

Lost in a Good Book
 
 
“The writing is smooth and assured, and the plot is thriller-oriented with plenty of action. You shouldn’t think that means the characters are neglected. They aren’t, and they’re all vivid and well rendered. Since this is obviously the first book in a series, there’s more to look forward to from Leicht, who I hope is working on the sequel.”
—Bill Crider, author of the Sheriff Dan Rhodes series
 
To Dane Caruthers
As you wish.
 
 
Also, to my Mom who taught me the words
“persistence” and “subversion.”
 
The Nephilim were on earth in those days (and even afterwards) when the sons of God resorted to the women, and had children by them. These were the heroes of days gone by, men of renown.
 

Genesis 6:4
 
 
According to adherents of the fallen-angel story, fairies are, by
nature, indiscriminate in their favours and lacking all moral
proportion, sometimes helping and sometimes hindering humankind.
Fairy activities, never genuinely evil, are dismissed
as capricious whims of morally deficient creatures. Necessarily,
Christianity has a vested interest in this fallen-angel view.
 
—from
A History of Irish Fairies
by Carolyn White
Prologue
 
Waterford, County Waterford, Ireland
September 1967
 
 
 
A
n agony-laced shriek reverberated up the narrow stairwell, freezing a hard knot in Probationary Guardian Joseph Murray’s stomach. The lingering scream was unmistakably male. Concern for the other members of his field unit flashed to mind.
Father Drager? Father Wright? Father Jackson? Or is it someone else?
As the distant cry faded, he struggled against a powerful urge to rush down the rough-hewn stairs.
Remember the emergency protocols, Joseph,
he thought.
You’ve strayed enough from procedure as it is.
With one year remaining of seminary school and only a few months of field training, it was still difficult to think of himself in the same terms as the others. Unlike them, he’d never intended to become a priest, let alone a soldier. His degrees were in pre-medical science and psychology, not the preternatural. He’d been very much in love, even engaged to be married. It was shocking how much one’s life could change in a matter of moments. His parents, siblings and friends weren’t aware of the true nature of his new vocation or the reasons behind it. If he told them demons and fallen angels walked the earth unnoticed by all except for an unlucky few, they would’ve had him committed—well, again, and on a more permanent basis.
The Order of Milites Dei had saved him in more ways than one.
Careful and quiet wins out. Stay calm. Don’t do anything rash. The enemy doesn’t know you’re here.
Because you were ordered to guard the entrance, you idiot. Don’t be rash? Have you not already been so?
Guilt tugged at his heart. He’d been a member of the Order for almost six months. This was his first field assignment and here he was disobeying orders like one of those angry young men the Americans made so many films about lately.
You’re thirty-two, Joseph. Far too old for this kind of thing.
However, Father Drager had missed his last radio check-in. And the jittery feeling in his gut told him something was very wrong. Hadn’t Father Jackson encouraged him to trust his instincts? So it was that Joseph found himself abandoning his post to radio Waterford. As a result another Guardian unit would arrive within twenty minutes.
You should’ve stayed at your post. The others are prepared for this. You aren’t.
What if twenty minutes is too late?
What if I’ve done something stupid?
Even with the aid of a flashlight, it was too dark to see more than a few feet ahead. The light-beam trembled on the stone steps. He took a deep breath to steady himself and pressed on. The long dagger’s leather grip felt reassuring in his right hand. His mouth was dry, and his senses seemed sharper than usual. This close to the Irish coast the chilled subterranean air reeked of sour earth and stagnant sea water. Moisture dripped, echoing in the otherwise silent darkness. Each step down seemed to give the shadows more solidity. The flashlight’s beam dimmed as if the darkness was feeding off the light. He shook the flashlight, and the batteries inside rattled. The sound was huge. Pointing the flashlight back down the passage, the small circle of yellowish light brightened and revealed a section of bare earth floor at the bottom of the crude stairs. He edged down the last steps with his back to the wall. Searching for possible enemies, he waited until he was sure it was safe before proceeding into the orphanage’s cramped root cellar. He looked down at the floor and stopped.

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