I am beyond thrilled to see my latest tale of Azrael the angel gunslinger, The Angel Azrael and the Dead Man’s Hand, on Locus’s 2024 Recommended Reading List. It’s a wonderful honour, and I’m very grateful Azrael continues to find readers. Many thanks to Beneath Ceaseless Skies for publishing Azrael and the Dead Man’s Hand!

This marks the seventh Azrael tale in Beneath Ceaseless Skies. Here they are in order of publication:

• The Angel Azrael Rode Into the Town of Burnt Church on a Dead Horse – The angel Azrael rides into the town of Burnt Church for a drink and ends up helping the very strange inhabitants fight off a gang of demons that’s been tormenting them.
• The Angel Azrael Delivers Small Mercies – The angel Azrael encounters an angel who is determined to turn the world into her own personal Hell and only Azrael can stop her.
• The audio version of “The Angel Azrael Delivers Small Mercies” with a new introduction I recorded for the story
• The Angel Azrael Delivers Justice to the People of the Dust – The angel Azrael rides into a mining town that is under siege from curious bone creatures stealing the town’s children. When Azrael intervenes, he discovers that nothing is what it seems in this strange place.
• The Angel Azrael Encounters the Revelation Pilgrims and Other Curiosities – The angel Azrael is hired by a group of pilgrims to guide them through a dangerous stretch of land, where they encounter a city of the dead and an outlaw band of half angels intent on ensuring they don’t make it to their destination.
• The Angel Azrael and the War Ghosts – The angel Azrael tries to stop a group of ghostly soldiers from preying upon travellers and rides straight into his own troubled past.
• The Angel Azrael Battles a Dead God Among the Heretics – The angel Azrael encounters a village full of crazed golems intent upon resurrecting a dead god to unleash upon the world — a god that Azrael has already killed once.
• The Angel Azrael and the Dead Man’s Hand – The Angel Azrael wanders into a strange town and becomes trapped in a supernatural and deadly card game.

Excerpt from The Angel Azrael and the Dead Man’s Hand:

The angel Azrael rode the dead horse across the broken land under the light of a half moon until he came across a graveyard that seemed to have no end. Wooden crosses stretched away to the horizon, more than he could count. Many of the crosses were bent close to the earth by time and the elements. Some were decorated with worn hats or gun belts with guns still in their holsters while others were adorned with bits of tattered lace or other fabric. None of the crosses bore names, at least none that Azrael could see.

It had been a week since he’d last come across a trading post, and even then the proprietor had been the only living soul there. Azrael had traded her a feather from his ruined wings for some of her homemade whiskey, served in a battered cup decorated with bloodstains. The whiskey had left his thoughts in a haze for days, but Azrael was relatively certain the woman hadn’t mentioned this field of the buried dead. Maybe she’d never ventured this way. Or maybe there was some other reason she hadn’t said anything. Either way, it wasn’t the first time Azrael had stumbled across a forgotten graveyard in the middle of nowhere. The world was made of such places.

Azrael scanned the night sky for the buzzards that trailed him everywhere, and because he had the eyes of an angel, he was able to pick them out of the darkness. They were hanging back, as if they didn’t like the looks of all those crosses stretching to the end of the world. Azrael reined in the dead horse, contemplating whether he should pick some different direction to wander. But then he caught a flicker of light in the distance, and a few seconds after that the faint sounds of glasses clinking together. It was a sound he’d heard countless times before, and it meant there was a saloon ahead. And where there was a saloon, there was real whiskey. He rode on, ignoring the warning of the buzzards, because his saddlebags were as empty of spirits as everything else.

A cluster of structures grew out of the night as he neared some sort of small town in the middle of the graveyard. Although to call it a town was to embellish its nature considerably. There were three buildings side by side and leaning against each other like they would fall down if not for the others. A saloon, a hotel, and a church, in that order. Only the saloon had lights flickering in the windows, courtesy of the candles inside. There were none of the usual sounds of laughter or quarrelling coming from such a place. Instead, the whole town was as quiet as the surrounding graveyard.

The crosses stopped a few dozen feet away from the walls of the buildings, but the space around the town wasn’t empty. It was full of wagons that looked as weathered as the crosses. They were piled with wooden crates and barrels, bundles of shovels and hoes, rolls of canvas and rope, and so on. All the cargo had a thick layer of dust upon it, suggesting the wagons had been out here some time. As if abandoned or forgotten. A couple of the wagons were covered and held sleeping mats spread out inside, indicating they were home to entire families. Another wagon had painted words on the side of it. Sky’s Elixirs for Good Health and the Preservation of Your Soul. There was no sign of horses or any other beast of burden. Nor were there any roads leading to this town or away. Whatever travellers had come here must have done so in a distant enough past that the elements had covered up their tracks.

It was a peculiar sight, nearly as odd as the vast graveyard itself. But Azrael didn’t dwell on it. He’d seen plenty of peculiar things in his travels, and he wasn’t planning on lingering in this place.