Waite on the Angel of Death: The Celestial Wars, #4

By John Campbell

An awesome rollercoaster ride packed with a plethora of suspense, a supremely EVIL spirit, and one flawed but irresistible-to-love hero! A defining gamechanger for not only the fiction category but for MULTIPLE genres. In short, if you're an avid reader...you NEED THIS BOOK! —Larry Roy

 

5 out of 5 stars! A true classic is born. This will be a movie one day! —Tank

 

Harmon Waite and his team spring Satan's trap and end up pitted against an entire world's black magic. Can they survive evil sorcerers, hordes of hungry dragons, a giant raptor stampede, and an over-protective goddess—in addition to the schemes of fallen angels?

 

Even if they manage to win out against a planet that wants to kill them, will they be able to return to Earth or are they stranded on this strange and perilous world for the rest of their lives?

 

Angels and fallen angels, devils and demons, dwarves and elves, good and bad gods, misunderstood dragons, a super-powered supporting cast of memorable characters, and one flawed but lovable superhero named Harmon Waite—son of the most powerful angel in the universe.

 

1.      Waite on the Ripper – a hyper-intense roller-coaster-ride down a dark highway

2.      Waite on the Blind Angel – a dangerous cat-and-mouse-game with a fallen archangel

3.      Waite on the Hero's Journey – an out-of-this-world parachute jump—without the chute

4.      Waite on the Angel of Death – a black-magic-showdown with an entire planet

5.      Waite on the Trail of Terror  – the ride through a house of horrors to die for

6.      Waite on the Antichrist – an end to Harmon's world and the real beginning of

 

The Celestial Wars - The soul-blessed worlds will never be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Creative Now
• Release date: Aug 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223923855

John Campbell

I love good stories. I remember exactly how I felt when I first read classics like Lord of the Rings, Stranger in a Strange Land, and the Foundation trilogy. I've been writing almost since I started reading. I performed the poems at Sixth Street's Chicago House that eventually became A Week of Years. Then my son came along, and I joined a tech revolution. During two decades at Dell, I accumulated a pocketful of good stories, and Riding on the Coattails of Genius was born. My new series, The Celestial Wars, is set in Austin,  where I've spent the best part of my life. In the first novel, Harmon Waite is a homegrown detective befriended by a pair of Nephilim warriors who help him hunt an ancient evil. Before the twelve novels in this arc are done Waite's realities will be shredded by evils beyond imagination. Get ready for a wild ride down supernatural highways.

Book preview

Chapter one

Chapter One: Between a Rock and a Hot Place

The ground trembled as the tainted energies of an archangel snapped into place around us. Satan had arrived, and we were all made his prisoners, trapped inside incalculable forces in an instant. I felt his dark stain wrap our team and knew we were dead. Acting on instinct, I threw up a shield, enfolding and embracing us in a protective skin of God-light. In the next instant, Satan’s deadly sphere of dark power dissolved.

Sweet Jesus, Mary, Mother of Christ! I spat convulsively as tons of fiery, flowing magma beat stone fists against my hasty construct. My strength began to fail immediately, battered to nothingness by that grinding river, and I ground my teeth in fury, knowing my friends were about to die.

The one shouted word, No! was an absolute command. The shield steadied, my will pushing upward and outward against the immense pressure of molten rock pressing in and flowing past. I guessed Satan had buried us miles underground—deep enough for the mantle to be more liquid than solid.

I saw Eirian and Smoke intently studying me. Noble stood braced, holding onto the driver’s door handle of Smoke’s somehow intact Hudson Hornet. His wide eyes met mine, and I could tell he wasn’t panicking. Ok, I thought, we need to get out of here.

A memory intruded. I was rising and falling, flying through an underground cavern inside a shield of light as I battled a dragon in the skies above Alexandria. Why was this moment any different? My shield buffered the shaking, and gravity was working in our favor, so I pointed my intentions Up and tugged on our tiny shelter. Dark patches in the fiery rock slipped past, and I knew we were moving.

Mere existence a herculean effort, at some point, at the periphery of my awareness, I noticed thirst and ignored it. Time was a steep mountain climb, but my will was relentless—until it wasn’t. Purpose fractured and gave way to reality. We weren’t moving fast enough to reach the surface.

Poised in a place between life and death I could not sustain, my power strained once more toward its breaking point—until Eirian’s light sprang into being, reinforcing my failing shield. Smoke’s God-light added another layer. Then the immense magical guard of a dragon pushed our air bubble back into shape.

I took the chance for a quick look around. The orange and red flows that should have winked us out of existence were mesmerizing, and I heard the dragon in my mind, his magical personae never given to regrets, mental rumble speaking only to the moment, This is glorious!

My lips curved into a smile even as, despite our combined wills, a series of cracks shivered across the dome of our too-fragile little lifeboat. These last months had been a grand adventure. What chance had we ever had against an archangel anyway? I was distracted at my very end by a thin thread of whispery amusement reprimanding me, Don’t give up yet, Son. It’s still not your time.

The river of rock disappeared, and I was staring at a red sun sitting low on the horizon. The air—although filled with strange smells—was as sweet as life itself. No longer deep under, we were all sprawled quite safely on the surface of a planet that didn’t feel quite like Earth. An angel stood nearby.

Poised between handsome and beautiful—tall and lean, with broad shoulders and a flat waist, the angel wore blue jeans and a black t-shirt that read—God Doesn’t Care How Big a Hole You Fall In, Only That You Climb Back Out Again. His grey eyes pierced me, dissected my heart, then gave it back with a slim smile. I decided he had to be another archangel and spoke with care, but from the bottom of my heart, Thank you for giving us back our lives.

His voice was a steel caress. In that post-apocalyptic moment, it reminded me of Clint Eastwood’s sibilant murmur, which was just too weird. You did good, Harmon. You all did well, delaying death long enough for me to find you on this distant planet.

Although I had guessed, it was still startling to hear we were not on Earth. The angel saw and said, Satan sent you to Beresus. It is a remarkable place. Reminds me of your planet, when humans were still newly wrought, and legends were in the making.

Why? I wondered out loud as my roiling emotions sought purchase.

The angel made a very human gesture, pinching his lower lip between two fingers as he considered, Hiding your end from me, most likely. Questions multiplied in my overwrought brain, but he went on. It is more complicated with archangels. We do not have the freedom of angels.

His statement confirmed what his power had already made manifest. He seemed to draw into himself. Sadness weighed his perfect features. God designed a dynamic Universe and asked angels to fill it with beauty. What was so hard about that?

The archangel began to fade, Wait, you haven’t even told us your name.

I am the Angel of Death, of course. His smile lingered Cheshire-like as he faded into thin air.

Behind where he’d been standing, still distant but coming our way, a line of wavering lights sprung up—like dancers unfolding out of the darkness. Climbing out of my daze, I said, Does everyone have eyes on this?

I heard Eirian gasp. She stepped up beside me as the rest gathered around. The tongues of white flame were still a few miles away, but they stretched back to illuminate the horizon. New fires were popping up steadily, heading in our direction, each dancing to its own song. As they advanced, I scanned them but could sense no intent. A natural phenomenon?

No one answered. As it twirled closer and closer, the light show was mesmerizing. Purest white, the tongues of flame reminded me of our God-lights—except, where our lights were shield and spear, these flickered with fluid, natural grace, a ballet of motion.

Eirian murmured, Whatever they are, they’re beautiful.

Dreq spoke. This planet’s magic is abundant. As the sun goes down, mystic flames bleed along ley lines.

Smoke grunted. I scratched my head, but it made sense.

We watched the immaculate blazes spring up until they were within a stone’s throw, passing to one side. More incandescent dancers appeared at a right angle and were upon us in an instant. A flame-born ballerina emerged short of our mound, bowed once, then began its wavering, graceful dance—but no fires climbed our Earthen hillock. Instead, they appeared on the other side and traveled into the distance.

I watched their progress, mesmerized. When I finally looked around, the dancing lights extended to every horizon, patterning multitudes of ley line junctures. Awed, I muttered, So, this entire planet is daily covered in a magical outpouring of beauty following the setting sun. Next to me, Eirian snorted. What is it? I asked.

She frowned, mock-serious. We are saved from certain death by Abaddon, the Angel of Death, who may well be the most powerful angel in existence, and stranded on a planet I’ve never heard of—yet you take time to appreciate pretty lights. She gave me a fleeting smile, then added with a hint of wonder in her teacher’s voice, You know, it is written Abaddon brought the dust to God used to create, then tie Man to Earth. He is so powerful not even the Bible knows if he is one of God’s army or a fallen angel."

I started to ask if she knew anything more about Abaddon but was distracted by Noble grousing, "I need a break from this light show. Long enough to take a leak, anyway. Eirian smiled sympathetically as Noble moved around the other side of Smoke’s car, where we could hear him pissing like a racehorse.

When he returned, still zipping his jeans, he said without preamble, I’ve got an overriding question for everyone. Since I take it Abaddon has no intention of returning us, how do we get back to Earth?

I asked, Eirian, do you sense any gates? She cocked her head, then shook it mutely. How about other life forms?

She pointed, adding in a tired voice, Nowhere near, though.

Smoke declared, Sleep now. He lay down, closed his eyes, and started gently snoring. It was cool but not cold out. Eirian immediately curled up in the crook of Smoke’s arm, absorbing his warmth. Dreq coiled on his other side. Noble and I stared at each other bemusedly. Don’t look at me, Son. It may have been a world away, but I woke up not long ago and was only a passenger on that crazy ride. You get some sleep. I’m comfortable. Now that I can appreciate the show, I’ll keep a lookout.

I nodded, Wake me in four hours, and climbed into the back seat of Smoke’s car. I didn’t even have a chance to consider all the day’s craziness; my brain said Enough and shut me down.

Chapter two

Chapter Two: Beresus

W e are absolutely getting your automobile back to Earth.

Smoke gazed sadly at his beautiful old Hudson Hornet sitting atop the pile of Earth. Harmon Waite, I cannot say that is a good idea. We’d had enough trouble getting down ourselves, so I understood his doubts.

I indicated the pale blue sky with a tilt of my head. Somewhere up there, Dreq searched in the direction Eirian had pointed last night. When Dreq returns, wouldn’t you rather ride than walk?

Smoke grunted but threw me a ray of hope, I did fill up on the way to Noble’s estate.

Eirian and Noble stood on either side of us, eyeing first the sedan perched atop the sagging ground, then the plain covered by sparse grasses and dotted with stunted trees—empty as far as the eye could see. The old man shook his head, I gotta see this. The part of our planet transported with us was maybe fifty feet wide by ten feet thick. It was sitting like a lonely plateau on the savannah. Getting ourselves down had been tough. Finding a way to drive Smoke’s car off looked near impossible.

I had an idea and grinned smugly. Watch and wonder. I reached out with my will and encased the Hornet in my light shield. Using the same technique that had raised us through the lava, I flewSmoke’s big blue buggy off the ridge and carefully deposited it next to us. With a wave of my hand, a bow, and a self-congratulatory Ta-da! I presented his vehicle to the typically stoic Indian.

Smoke grunted but with the faint hint of a smile. Eirian clapped delightedly. Noble whistled, You’ve come a long way since I saw your last practice match. He didn’t add it, but I could hear an echo of the honorific, Son.

I was mid-bow when Dreq landed squarely on my back. I gahked,