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Darker Angels (Book Two of the The Black Sun's Daughter), by M.L.N. Hanover
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In the battle between good and evil, there's no such thing as a fair fight.
When Jayné Heller's uncle Eric died, she inherited a fortune beyond all her expectations -- and a dangerous mission in a world she never knew existed. Reining in demons and supernatural foes is a formidable task, but thankfully Jayné has vast resources and loyal allies to rely on. She'll need both to tackle a bodyswitching serial killer who's taken up residence in New Orleans, a city rich in voodoo lore and dark magic.
Working alongside Karen Black, a highly confident and enigmatic ex-FBI agent, Jayné races to track down the demon's next intended host. But the closer she gets, the more convinced she becomes that nothing in this beautiful, wounded city is exactly as it seems. When shocking secrets come to light, and jealousy and betrayal turn trusted friends into adversaries, Jayné will soon come face-to-face with an enemy that knows her all too well, and won't rest until it has destroyed everything she loves most....
- Sales Rank: #1106669 in Books
- Brand: Brand: Pocket Books
- Published on: 2009-09-29
- Released on: 2009-09-29
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 6.75" h x 1.00" w x 4.19" l, .38 pounds
- Binding: Mass Market Paperback
- 368 pages
- Great product!
About the Author
M.L.N. Hanover is an International Horror Guild Award-winning author living in the American southwest.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
ONE
"Hey," my dead uncle said. "You've got a call."
I rolled over in bed, disoriented. A dream about meeting Leonard Cohen in a perfume factory was still about as immediate as reality. My previous day's clothes were piled in the corner of the tile floor along with the leather backpack I used as a purse. The pack's side pocket was open and glowing. My uncle Eric's voice came again.
"Hey. You've got a call."
I untangled myself from the sheets and stumbled over, promising myself for the thousandth time that I would change the ringtone. The bedroom was still unfamiliar. The cell phone flashed a number I didn't recognize, but there was a name -- Karen Black -- associated with it, so she must have been in his contacts list someplace. I accepted the call.
"Unh?" I grunted into the receiver.
"Eric, it's Karen. I've found it!" a woman said. "It's in New Orleans, and I know where it's going next. There's a little girl with Sight, and she says her sister is the next target. I don't know how long I've got. I need you."
It was a lot to take in. I hesitated, and the woman misinterpreted my silence.
"Okay, what's it going to take?" she demanded. "Name your price, Heller."
"Actually," I said. "That's complicated. I'm Jayné. Eric's niece. He's...um...he passed on last year."
It was Karen Black's turn to be silent. I gave her a moment to let it sink in. I skipped the parts about how he'd been murdered by an evil wizard and how several of Eric's old friends, along with a policeman who owed me a favor and a vampire with a grudge against the same wizard, had teamed up to mete out summary roadside justice. I could get back to that later if I needed to.
"Oh," she said.
"Yeah. He left me pretty much everything. Including the cell phone. So...hi. Jayné here. Anything I can do to help out?"
The pause was longer this time. I could guess pretty well at the debate she was going through. I gave her a hand.
"This is about riders, isn't it?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "So you know about them?"
"Abstract spiritual parasites. Come in from Next Door or the Pleroma or whatever you want to call it," I said as I walked carefully back to the bed. "Take over people's bodies. Have weird-ass magical powers, kind of like the magic humans can do, but way more effective. Yeah, I've got the For Dummies book, at least."
"All right," she said. "Did Eric...did he even mention me?"
"No," I said. "Sorry."
The woman on the other end of the line took a breath as I got back under the covers and pulled the pillow behind my back. I heard Aubrey cough from one of the bedrooms down the hall.
"All right," she said. "My name is Karen Black. I used to be a special agent for the FBI. About ten years ago, I started tracking down what I thought was a fairly standard serial killer. It turned out to be a rider. We caught the horse, a man named Joseph Mfume, but the rider switched bodies."
"So not so easy to track," I said.
"No," she agreed. "My supervisors wanted me to stop. They didn't believe there was anything to it. And...well, X-Files was still popular back then. There were jokes. I was referred for psychiatric counseling and taken off active duty. I resigned and went on with the investigation myself. Eric and I crossed paths a few times over the years, and I was impressed with his efficiency. I've found where the rider is going to strike next, and I need help to stop it. I thought of Eric."
"Okay," I said.
"Can you help me?"
I rubbed my eyes with my free hand until little ghosts of false light danced in my vision.
"Hell if I know," I said. "Let me talk to my guys and call you back."
"Your guys?"
"I kind of have a staff," I said. "Experts."
I could hear her turning that over too. I wondered how much she'd known about Eric's financial situation. For a man with enough money to buy a small third-world nation, he hadn't flaunted it; I hadn't even known until he left me the whole thing. My guess was Karen hadn't expected Eric to have a staff.
"I don't know how much time I have," she said.
"I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise. We're in Athens right now, so it may take me a few days to get to New Orleans."
"I don't mean to be rude, but it's not that long a flight," Karen said, impatience in her tone. "You could drive it in eight hours or so."
It took me a second to process that.
"Not Georgia Athens," I said. "Athens Athens. Cradle of civilization."
"Oh," she said, and then, "Oh fuck. What time is it there?"
I snuggled down under my covers and looked at the bedside clock.
"One in the morning," I said.
"I woke you up," she said. "I am so sorry..."
Amid a flurry of apologies and promises to return calls, Karen and I let each other go. I dropped the phone next to the clock and stared at the ceiling.
The last six months had offered me a wide variety of bedroom ceilings. The first at Eric's house in Denver when I was first thrown into the world of riders and possession and magic. Then the dark wood and vigas of an old ranch outside Santa Fe, then a place in New Haven with honest-to-God mirrors over the bed and red silk sheets, followed by a gray-green retro-seventies number in a rentcontrolled apartment building in Manhattan that was so small I got hotel rooms for the guys. There had been a much more civilized beige with a little unprofessional plaster repair near the corner in a townhouse in London, and now the bare white with deep blue notes that said this Greek villa had been a full-on tourist trap rental before Eric bought it.
The guys had been with me the whole time, apart from a couple weeks when Aubrey had gone back to his former job at the University of Colorado to tie up some loose ends on his research. In the long, complex process of inventorying the property and resources Eric had left behind, we hadn't stayed anyplace more than two months running, and most considerably less. None of it seemed like home to me, and from experience, I knew I could stare at the dim white above me for hours and still not sleep.
With a sigh, I got up, pulled on my robe, and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. A newspaper on the cheap yellow Formica table yelled out headlines in an alphabet I didn't understand. I poured myself a bowl of cereal with little bits of dried fruit and added milk that tasted subtly different from the 2% I'd grown up with.
I heard the door of one of the other bedrooms open and soft footsteps come down the stairs. After so many months together, I could differentiate Aubrey from Ex from Chogyi Jake without looking.
"Why do you think it is," I asked, "that someone can on the one hand be talking you into a fight against evil spirits and semi-demonic serial killers, but then on the other get embarrassed when they figure out they woke you up to do it?"
"I don't know," Aubrey said as he sat down across from me. "Maybe he just didn't want to be rude."
"She didn't want to be rude," I said. "Sexist."
Aubrey smiled and shrugged. Aubrey was beautiful the way a familiar leather jacket is beautiful. He wasn't all muscles and vanity, he didn't spend hours on his wardrobe and hair. His smile looked lived-in, and his body was comfortable and reassuring and solid. He always reminded me of Sunday mornings and tangled sheets.
We'd been lovers once for about a day before I found out that -- point one -- he was married and -- point two -- I have a real hangup about sleeping with married men. I still had uncomfortably pleasant erotic dreams about him sometimes. I also had divorce paperwork in my backpack, filled out by his wife with her signature and everything. I hadn't told him about that. It was one of those things that was so important and central to my life that putting it off had been very easy. Every time a chance came up to talk about it, I'd been able to find a reason not to.
"What's the issue?" he asked, and I startled a little, my still-exhausted mind interpreting the question as being about the divorce papers. I pulled myself together.
"There's an ex-FBI agent in New Orleans. She's on the trail of a rider that's a serial killer," I said, and yawned. "Are there a lot of those?"
"Depends on who you ask," he said. "There are a lot of serial killers who claim to be demons or victims of demonic possession. You remember the BTK killer? His pastor said right through the end that the voice coming out of the guy wasn't the man he knew. There are some people who think that all serial killers are possessed. Serial arsonists, too. Is that the last of the milk?"
"No, there's another whole bottle in the fridge," I said around my spoon. "So is it true? Are they all riders?"
"Probably not," Aubrey said. "I mean some serial killers blame porn or bad parenting or whatever. And you can be mentally ill without there being a rider in your head. But by the same token, I'd bet that some are."
"You'd buy it? This FBI lady has been tracking down a body-hopping serial killer, she's managed to get one step ahead of it, and needs help. Sounds plausible?"
"We've all seen weirder," Aubrey said as he measured out enough coffee for three of us. Chogyi Jake always opted for tea. "Do you have any reason to think it's not on the level?"
"You mean is it the bad guys setting a trap? I don't have any reason to think so," I said. "Also no reason not to, though. I could get a background check on her, I guess."
"Might be wise."
I didn't hear Ex coming. He just breezed in from the hallway. Even the T-shirt and sweats he slept in were black. His hair was loose, a pale blond flow that softened his features. Usually he wore it back.
"Since we apparently aren't sleeping tonight, what are we talking about?" he asked as he pulled out a chair and sat at the table.
"Serial killers, demonic possession," I said. "Same as always."
"Jayné got us a job," Aubrey said.
I ran down the basics again while I finished eating and Ex and Aubrey started. The coffee smelled good -- rich and reassuring...
Most helpful customer reviews
14 of 16 people found the following review helpful.
In which M.L.N. Hanover delivers a smackdown to my inner curmudgeon SPOILERS
By Kelly (Fantasy Literature)
***SPOILER WARNING***
***SPOILER WARNING***
***SPOILER WARNING***
***SPOILER WARNING***
My inner curmudgeon nearly set _Darker Angels_ aside at about the halfway point. "I don't get this book!" said the curmudgeon. "The voodoo's all wrong. Legba isn't an evil serial killer! The good guys' plan doesn't quite add up, and is pretty unethical besides. And the interpersonal drama just ate the plot for lunch!"
"Sit down and shut up," said M.L.N. Hanover. "I'm telling a story here."
OK, so I've never met M.L.N. Hanover, and he didn't literally say that, but he might as well have. Because just as I was about to give up on _Darker Angels_, he threw in some twists that made me realize I was looking at it all wrong.
I must have been led astray by the extremely linear plot of _Unclean Spirits_. I was expecting this plot to be similar in structure, and so I wasn't asking the right questions. I shouldn't have been asking, "What did Hanover do wrong?" I should have been asking, "What might be going on within the plot to cause all these things to happen?" I think I also forgot that Jayné, despite being a narrator whose voice I really enjoy, is not a perfectly reliable narrator. She has biases and blind spots, and she doesn't understand everything she experiences. Jayné's preconceived notions got in the way of solving the mystery -- and so did mine.
_Darker Angels_ is much less linear than _Unclean Spirits_, and it's much better for it. The plot revolves around a voodoo spirit who manipulates its hosts into committing horrific murders. Jayné is hired by former FBI agent Karen Black, an acquaintance of her late uncle's, to help stop this spirit from killing a young girl. We visit New Orleans and see both the destruction left over from Katrina and the tenacity of its residents. The plot is full of great twists. Hanover yanked the rug out from under my feet at one point, and maybe I should have seen it coming, but I didn't. It's when the pieces start to fall into place that you realize just how carefully Hanover set them up.
I really enjoyed _Darker Angels_s and I think it's safe to say I'm hooked on The Black Sun's Daughter. Jayné continues to be a delight; she's no master strategist, but she has a lot of compassion, and she has more courage than she thinks she does. And to heck with the inner curmudgeon. By the end, this had become a "set the alarm early so you can read before work" kind of book, and I finished it with a smile on my face and maybe a few tears in my eyes.
5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Jayné takes another beating, inside and out, but comes back swinging
By Mrs. Baumann
Plot Summary: Jayné and gang have been traveling the world, visiting the extensive properties that were bequeathed to her by her late Uncle Eric. An old associate of Eric's rings one night, asking for help with a demon rider in New Orleans. Jayné jumps right in, ignoring her own exhaustion, and gets eye-ball deep in demon politics. The woman who called, Karen Black, is an ex-FBI agent who oozes confidence and Jayné develops a bad case of hero-worship-envy. Her team splinters and Jayné realizes her critical error just in time to try and reverse the damage.
It seems like every time I turn around, another author has chosen post-Katrina New Orleans as the setting for his/her urban fantasy. I've never visited there myself, but I almost feel like I know the place just from all the stories I've read. Jayné even had beignets and chicory coffee at the Café du Monde, which is pretty traditional for heroines passing through. I'm being cheeky now, but seriously, the city has become a literary darling. It has the right mix of despair, decay, magic, and hope. It's a good place to beat someone down, and watch them fight back in triumph, which is pretty much what happens to Jayné.
While I enjoyed this one, it didn't have quite the same sparkle as the first novel, Unclean Spirits: Book One of the Black Sun's Daughter. I think I know why too. My favorite character was MIA. The rough, gruff, tough-talking vampire Midian did not make an appearance, and I thought that Jayné's team was diminished as a result. It certainly cut down on the humorous moments in the story. I was also feeling lukewarm about Jayné's awkward non-relationship with Aubrey. I think she's being a twit for messing around with her friends like that, but she is imminently human and makes more than her share of mistakes.
This fantasy series is on my `need to read list' because the characters are intriguing and Hanover writes well. It's easy to overlook the quality of the storytelling until I'm slogging through something vague or bland, and then it's easy to appreciate. If Hanover could just bring Midian back, I'd be totally content.
4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Darker Angels
By Ithlilian
I read the first book in this series some time ago and didn't really remember too much about it or the characters. This one is pretty self contained so that wasn't too much of an issue. Darker Angels starts off strong with an entertaining intro featuring a child that sees the future, and it keeps that pace with a case for Jayne and team to investigate. I continued reading happily until around page 150. At that point I realized the entire book was going to be made up of the one case. I don't mind reading a self contained mystery that takes up an entire book if there is something else going on that I find interesting, or if the mystery is complex and well developed. Neither is the case here. The characters are so boring I find myself ignoring most of what they said. They each have one personality trait, and basically chime in when appropriate. They aren't even important enough to be considered sidekicks. The mystery is long and drawn out, but not complex or entertaining at all. I didn't care who was behind what, or what weirdly named demon creature was friends with what other weirdly named creature. I don't care enough about anything in this series to continue it. If there was some sort of goal the characters were working towards other than cleaning out properties and entering what they find into a computer, then maybe I'd continue. I really don't care who Jayne's family had an affair with or what is special about them. This series is lacking a purpose, and I just don't enjoy it. I see that the team is quirky and fun, and that may be enough for some people, but it is no where near enough for me.
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