July 17, 2012
The first Icarus Fell novel by Bruce Blake, On Unfaithful Wings, has been a huge success, with over 20000 copies downloaded since its release and a 4.5 star rating with 31 reviews. Here’s what people are saying about the first in the series:
“Bruce Blake’s On Unfaithful Wings is a great urban fantasy novel. I love good character development in a story’s protagonist and Blake nails it with Icarus Fell. I found myself rooting for him from the get go and laughing out loud at some of his observations.”
“On Unfaithful Wings was an impressive first novel. All of the characters were interesting and engaging, but in particular the main character and his struggle to reconcile with his new identity/job. This is one of those stories that stays with me long after I read it and I’ll be on the lookout for more from this author.”
“I have to say it is absolutely wonderful how many amazing indie authors I seem to find with the talent to write and entertain on the same level as most traditionally published authors. This is book is another one. I highly recommend it as a very good read, and I should also make note here that this is the first book in a series for which I will happily read and review the minute the next book is released.”
“I can honestly say I am a Bruce Blake fan and I can’t wait to read the second book in this amazing series and see what happens to Icarus Fell next!”
Well, the wait is over! Sometime in the wee hours this morning, the second Icarus Fell novel, All Who Wander Are Lost, hit the shelves at Kindle. The second volume of exploits finds our unlikely hero, Icarus Fell, feeling guilty about the souls sent to Hell because of his lackluster performance as a Harvester. Determined to get them back, Icarus manages to endanger everyone he cares about, alienate a couple of angels, and risk his own soul on a dangerous trip to Hell with a beautiful guardian angel he’s only just met.
Here’s a sample of the action:
We crossed the nave, passed the unscathed altar where Father Dominic had threatened my son’s life a month before, and stopped at the base of the still-standing wall. I pulled up beside her and gazed at the blackened stone. When she didn’t do anything, I touched the stone wall, found it as solid as ever.
“I don’t get it.”
She didn’t respond, surveying the wreckage around us instead. After a moment, she strode to a charred but mostly whole pew and picked it up like it weighed nothing. She brought it to where I stood and propped it against the wall beneath the stained glass Virgin Mary.
“You asked me that already. The answer’s still: not really.”
She shrugged, smiled, and started climbing, using the pew as a ladder to the window. When she reached the top, she stepped onto the window ledge and motioned for me to follow. I breathed deep, gathering my nerves.
Do I really want to go to Hell again?
The answer was no, I didn’t want to. I had to.
I struggled my way up the charred pew with less dexterity than Piper but made it to the top. She offered her hand and helped me onto the ledge, a bolt of electricity and a wayward lustful thought shooting through me. I shook free of her touch.
We stood there a few seconds, inches from the miracle window, and I wondered what the people gathered on the sidewalk watching for miracles would think when we burst through the glass. But when she took a step toward it, the glass didn’t break. Instead, her foot passed through it as though she stepped through one of those seventies beaded curtains. Bit by bit, she disappeared.
Piper was gone, vanished through the window like Alice through the looking-glass. I could have turned and left; I wanted to. I looked back at the pew leaning against the wall, at the debris-strewn church, and started to turn, but a sound stopped me. A voice.
The voice of a woman.
Was it one of the miracle-seekers crying out to the Heavens? Piper prompting me to follow? Maybe it was Beth Elton calling for help all the way from Hell.
I drew a fortifying breath and my foot went through the window like it didn’t exist, then my hand, my arm, and finally my torso and head. The chilly night disappeared, replaced by searing pain, confusion, agony. I saw the people standing on the sidewalk for a second; the murmur of their prayers thundered in my ears, the light of their candles blinded me. Then they faded from view. A pressure mounted in my head, threatening to over-inflate it to the point of bursting.
And then blackness overcame all.