Hark The Angels

Icelanders have a beautiful tradition of giving books to each other on Christmas Eve and then spending the night reading. This custom is so deeply ingrained in the culture that it is the reason for the Jolabokaflod, or “Christmas Book Flood,” when the majority of books in Iceland are sold between September and December in preparation for Christmas giving. To honor this tradition, which is also the theme of the Historical Writers Forum Advent Blog Hop, authors are offering free and reduced ebooks and paperbacks to cuddle up with on cold and cozy holiday nights.

Angels are also a part of Christmas traditions. Those graceful tree toppers and beautifully-winged celestial beings whom carols honor with versus like “Hark the herald angels sing” and “fall on your knees, O! hear the angels’ voices”, soothers and beholders, and who, as members of the Heavenly host, are subject to the laws of their Father…and some break those laws.

Therefore, welcome to the world of Historical Fantasy–historical fiction blended with the supernatural realm–and the first book in my multiple award winning series about the American Revolution: Angels & Patriots Book One: Sons of Liberty, Lexington and Concord, Bunker Hill

Boston, Massachusetts, January 1775

Ten years earlier, the British government levied the Stamp Act on the American colonies, a tax on all paper goods to help pay for Britain’s global wars. The tax infuriated the colonists and spurred a man named Samuel Adams to form a rebellious street thug group called the Sons of Liberty. Soon, the group began attracting prominent men like John Hancock, Paul Revere, and Dr. Joseph Warren whose biting quill called for liberty from the tyranny of the British ministry. As British soldiers occupied Boston, and further taxes and parliamentary acts were imposed, their voices for liberty rose. Then, a small band of fallen angels led by their archangel known by his human name, Colm Bohannon, appeared in Boston to warn the Sons of Liberty of demons that may be infiltrating Loyalists and Patriots alike.

The angels knew well for they had been running from the demons since the time of the Flood of Noah. Some of the angels had created what God had forbidden—Nephilim—children of human women. Three angels copulated. Five angels tried to stop them. In God’s court, they were all found guilty and were banished from Heaven.

Thus began an allied quest for liberty that defined the meaning of loyalty and the virtue of the ultimate sacrifice.

An Excerpt

On Monday January 30, 1775, Colm and Fergus met Samuel Adams, John Adams, John Hancock, Paul Revere, William Dawes, and Dr. Joseph Warren in the basement of the Green Dragon Tavern.

John Hancock disguised his disquiet by saying, “Get on with it, Mr. Bohannon.”

The basement door swung open. Twenty-three-year-old Dr. Samuel Prescott descended the steps. When he saw the strangers in the basement, he stopped.

John Hancock motioned for Samuel to join them. “You have arrived from Concord just in time.”

Samuel remained where he was and asked, “In time for what?”

“Shut the basement door,” Paul barked. “And get down here.”

Samuel Adams repeated what John Hancock had said. “Get on with it, Mr. Bohannon.”

The disruption caused by Samuel Prescott’s arrival gave Colm time to decide how to begin. He asked, “What are ya opinions on angels?”

“We are not here for a sermon,” Samuel Adams said. “We are here to discuss who you and your men are, and your patriotic intentions.”

“Answer me,” Colm insisted.

Paul took a step toward Colm. “Did you not understand what Samuel said?”

Fergus slid his right hand inside his coat and gripped the hilt of his dagger.

John Adams said, “I would be more than happy to discuss my opinions concerning angels if my cousin wishes to withdraw from the conversation. I can see that you have a point to this Mr. Bohannon, and I am curious enough to play your game.”

Joseph Warren saw Colm’s jaw tighten.

Ya know this isn’t a game, Colm thought.

“I no longer cling to the doctrines of my Puritan ancestors,” John Adams said. “I have turned to the more liberal views of the Unitarian Church. But that is not what you have asked Mr. Bohannon. The Puritan minister, Cotton Mather, claimed to have had an angel sighting, yet he and his father had denounced such sightings. They believed they were mischief or a transformation of Satan. Why would the Good Angels of God make themselves visible to man?”

“That, Mr. Adams, isn’t an opinion,” Colm pointed out.

Dr. Joseph Warren watched Fergus. Fergus did not look at Colm when he spoke. He listened with intensity, and constantly gauged the tension in the room. In contrast to Colm, with his long curly brown hair and pleasant thin face, Fergus was exceedingly handsome. Colm wore homespun. Fergus was dressed like a gentleman.

“No, it is not,” John Adams agreed. “Rather it is an old-fashioned opinion that angels have no function except to look over mankind while we sow our own fate with no real guidance from God. That opinion has changed in recent years. There has been a shift in the religious world view. I believe there is the miraculous intercession of a heavenly messenger as we search more actively and optimistically for our ultimate destination in the house of the Lord.”

William said, “My wife and I believe that if an angel comes to us after we have prayed, and tells us we shall be among the saved, then it will be so if we listen to the word of God.”

“What I found unbelievable about Cotton Mather’s sighting was the description of his angel,” John Adams noted.

“Well, here is my opinion,” Samuel Adams snickered. “Mather was in his cups. He claimed the angel had the features of a man. Angels do not have a gender unless they have possessed some poor hapless slob.”

“I have read Mather’s description,” Paul said with assurance. “The angel wore white and shining garments and a long robe. That seems to be the view most agree with in these times—an angel with a shining face wearing a splendid tiara with wings on his shoulders.”

“It is what our churches depict in the beauty of their stained-glass windows,” William added.

“This is absurd,” John Hancock spat.

“If they did walk among us, what do you think they would look like?” William asked Colm.

Colm had no physical form before he took his thirty-two-year-old vessel; therefore, he had no idea what he looked like. That concept was difficult for all of the angels. No matter how many times they saw their own reflection, they couldn’t connect what they saw to who they were. Colm said, “What they look like isn’t important.”

Joseph noted that neither Colm nor Fergus fidgeted. They did not appear to be hatching a lie. He detected uneasiness in their demeanor. Joseph knew what Colm was about to say was going to sound unbelievable because what Joseph suddenly saw was unbelievable. Moreover, it appeared that he was the only man in the basement who could see it. “Paul and William, may I have a private word with you outside?” Joseph asked.

Paul gave Joseph a suspicious look. “Why?”

Joseph did not bother to answer. He and William exited through the exterior basement door. Paul shot a doubtful look at Colm, and then followed the others outside.

Samuel Prescott and Samuel Adams walked to the basement window and peered through the small, blistered glass panes.

Paul’s voice rose above the others. “Do you know what you are saying, Joseph? They cannot…” The sound of his voice abruptly ceased.

Joseph, Paul, and William returned to the basement. William shut the door and threw the bolt latch. He climbed the stairs to the interior basement door and locked it.

The angels rustled their wings. It was one of several ways they comforted themselves. Most of those habits revealed their celestial being. Therefore, they were often deprived of self-comforting. A human who could hear their wings rustle was extraordinary.

Joseph heard the rustling. He looked at Colm and Fergus as if they had reinforced everything he had just said to Paul and William.

Colm made eye contact with Joseph.

John Hancock’s foreboding intensified. “I have had enough of this.” He turned to mount the steps.

“No, John…wait,” Joseph implored.

John complied.

“What Joseph told Paul and me is so fanciful, that I cannot grasp it,” William said. Yet, he felt calm, and strangely soothed.

Samuel Adams frowned and asked, “What did Joseph tell you?”

Fergus willed his eyes to stay focused on whoever was speaking.

Joseph and Colm made eye contact again.

Joseph said, “Mr. Bohannon, if what I am about to say is true, I expect you to demonstrate integrity and tell the truth.”

“I will.”

“You and your men are angels of God.”

John Hancock erupted. “That cannot be, Joseph! You have been led astray!”

Fergus tightened his hand around the hilt of the dagger inside his coat.

“Dr. Warren speaks the truth,” Colm said. “We’re banished angels. Some of us disobeyed God and created the Nephilim—children of angels and human women. God, in his fury, summoned the Flood of Noah to kill the Nephilim, and he created an army of demons to kill us. The demon who leads them will never stop chasing us until we’re dead.”

Samuel Prescott turned to flee the basement. Paul seized his arm and said, “No, Samuel!”

“You cannot believe this!” Samuel shouted. He jerked his arm away from Paul’s grasp. “War may be upon us, and now we have been cursed by the workings of Satan. This is too much!”

“We aren’t doing the work of Satan,” Fergus objected.

“What does your sin against God have to do with us?” John asked.

Colm said, “Angels can’t sin. Only the children of man can sin.”

Samuel Adams challenged Colm. “Prove your claim, sir.”

“We can’t unless ya truly believe angels are representations of God’s work; and even then, I’m not sure ya will be able to see our proof.”

“You had better find a way to prove yourselves,” John Hancock said indignantly.

“Joseph, they have bewitched you!” Samuel Prescott shouted.

Fergus allowed himself to look at Colm. They conjured memories from a time before three of their brotherhood learned to feel lust; before they were afraid of God’s demons; before they took human vessels and the names they had now. They listened to hear the beatific melody of Heaven. It was a tune so ancient that no living thing could recreate the tones and chords.

Without a sound, Colm and Fergus unfurled their divine silver wings. Silver crystals showered upon the patriots’ faces and wet their hair. The delicate crystals gathered on the floor and drifted into the corners of the basement. Colm’s imperial wings touched the ceiling, and the delicate plumes brushed Fergus’ widespread wings. Together, their wings filled the basement from wall to wall and floor to ceiling.

The patriots drew in a breath and fell to their knees.

Colm evoked his spiritual essence. The basement was washed in the light of his green aura, and something God had bestowed to the archangels—golden radiance. It was part of Colm’s primordial being, as ancient as the heavenly music he and Fergus heard. It was his destructive power. The green light and the gold radiance swirled and glided like a flock of birds coming home to roost at sunset.

The purple aura God had granted to the angels entrusted to an archangel’s second in command, shined intensely from Fergus’ angelic spirit. The angels furled their wings into obscurity. The dazzling light that constituted a celestial being’s essence faded. The silver crystals remained. “Get to ya feet,” Colm said softly. “We aren’t to be revered.”

The men rose. William ran a hand over his brown hair. He stared at the silver crystals in his palm.

“We offer ourselves to ya cause for freedom,” Colm said. “If Henry has provoked the colonies into war to draw us out of hiding, ya must know what ya are up against. It isn’t just England’s power. It’s also a demonic army. Ya have to be prepared for the horrors of war, and the horrors of God’s wrath.”

John Hancock was trembling. “We cannot prepare our fellow patriots for this. You must have proof that this demon is indeed provoking us. And even if we do have proof, we cannot convince the masses that Satan is behind this revolution.”

“Ya aren’t listening!” Colm said. “Satan has nothing to do with this! These are God’s demons!”

John Adams gathered his wits and said, “Mr. Bohannon, we shall take your council under serious advisement when you find your demon and not before.”

Fergus was astonished by the patriots’ response.

Colm warned, “We aren’t in control! Henry and his demons are. Ya must be prepared to fight them on the same ground as the British army!”

Human skepticism impregnated the basement of the Green Dragon Tavern. There was nothing else Colm could do to convince these unsuspecting men that the threat to them, their families, and their country was not only twofold, but also unknown.

My Giveaway

I’m giving away three ebooks or paperback books (US only) to winners who comment on this blog or on my social media posts on Twitter or Facebook. Please note: Due to the adult content and themes, this book is not intended for persons under the age of 18.

The Series: Available on Amazon with Book Four in Progress

Thank you for your interest in our blog hop and my series. Have a wonderful holiday! ~~ Salina