By Thomas E. Sniegoski
Meet Remy Chandler... he is one of many solid guys... yet he is in undesirable trouble... Having misplaced the affection of his lifestyles, Remy unearths himself turning clear of the area. He seeks out risky jobs that contain the supernatural and convey him into touch together with his earlier. In his most up-to-date case, a cache of historical weaponry is stolen from a collector who offers in antiques of a gloomy and doubtful nature. The guns have been solid eons in the past and imbued with incredible strength. within the incorrect palms they could wreck Heaven and Earth. to avoid that, Remy Chandler needs to make a decision if he's keen to lose the final of his personal humanity...
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Extra resources for Dancing on the Head of a Pin: A Remy Chandler Novel
I have to do it,” he said. “No, you don’t,” Madeline commanded as she stamped her bare foot in the sand. “Don’t do this to me. . Don’t take away what we have. . ” He couldn’t torture her anymore. Remy reached down within himself, deep into the bottomless darkness where he had hidden his true self, and called to the power of Heaven. He wished he could say that it was happy to see him, that this was about to be a pleasurable experience, but then he really would have been lying. It hated his human guise and eagerly attacked it, burning away his clothes and the tender flesh to reveal the truth beneath.
The bodies of the two fallen angels had already started to burn, their corporeal forms dissolving away to nothing as they ceased to exist. Their time on earth had been their last chance at redemption, and they had failed miserably. ” Francis asked, sliding the knife into a concealed pocket on the inside of his gray suit jacket. A pain-wracked moan filled the air, and Remy looked to see that Eddie was somehow still alive, although clearly not for long. He had propped himself against the corrugated metal wall, his breath coming in short, labored gasps.
Francis suggested, pulling open his jacket to expose the hilt of the blade peeking from the top of the pocket. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Remy said. ” Francis shrugged. ” Remy asked calmly. “That’s oblivion barreling down the tracks to meet you. No more chances, pal. You’re done, unless . ” The smoke from the bullet holes was thicker and carried with it the smell of rotting meat. Eddie tried weakly to staunch the flow with his good hand, but the effort was futile. “I wanted . . wanted to go home .