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By Kevin Hearne

The first novel within the Iron Druid Chronicles—introducing a funky, new, humorous city myth hero

Atticus O’Sullivan, final of the Druids, lives peacefully in Arizona, operating an occult book shop and shape-shifting in his spare time to seek along with his Irish wolfhound. His associates and shoppers imagine that this good-looking, tattooed Irish dude is ready twenty-one years old—when truly, he’s twenty-one centuries previous. let alone: He attracts his strength from the earth, possesses a pointy wit, and wields an excellent sharper magical sword referred to as Fragarach, the Answerer.

Unfortunately, a truly indignant Celtic god desires that sword, and he’s hounded Atticus for hundreds of years. Now the made up our minds deity has tracked him down, and Atticus will desire all his power—plus assistance from a seductive goddess of dying, his vampire and werewolf group of legal professionals, a bartender possessed by way of a Hindu witch, and a few strong out of date good fortune of the Irish—to kick a few Celtic arse and carry himself from evil.

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And I’m now not knocking you for creating a greenback at the state of affairs. All I’m asserting is that I don’t are looking to revenue by means of it, no longer even via getting a few doubtful credits for my charity. ” Hal it seems that had a few doubts yet wasn’t keen to assert them aloud, so all he stated was once “Hmph,” as he wiped his palms on a serviette. “So listen,” I acknowledged, altering the topic and attempting to disguise the slobbery licking noises Oberon was once making, “I received a lead on our mysterious barmaid. ” “The redhead who smells like humans? ” I blinked at him. “You by no means informed me that,” I stated. “As I bear in mind that exact dialog, you requested me if she smelled like a goddess”—he started to tick off my queries on his fingers—“a demon, a lycanthrope, or another type of therianthrope. ” Hal smirked. “You have been too smitten on the time to invite me what she really smelled like. ” Oberon? Is the werewolf telling me the reality? by no means brain. “All correct, Hal, what else does she odor like? ” “I’ve advised you all i do know, Atticus. you could shift to a hound and scent her your self if you would like. ” He positioned his fingers flat at the desk and drummed his palms, intentionally attempting to goad me. “Thanks, yet I’m going to determine the old school manner. She’s going to inform me what’s going on—after I’m via with you. ” “Ah. Is that my cue to go away, then? ” “Almost. this would take a little time, so i would like you to take Oberon with you to the widow MacDonagh’s condominium. ” Hal winced and Oberon whined. “Must i actually? ” “Yes,” I stated to either one of them. They left a section disgruntled yet quietly adequate, leaving me to settle up with the waitress. She checked out the plates of bangers and mash, which gave the impression of they'd been licked disturbingly fresh, after which on the plates of fish and chips, which had a couple of scraps of detritus and slaw on them as basic plates would—and then glanced at me uncertainly, figuring out that anything was once very unsuitable yet not able to visualize a passable rationalization. i actually get pleasure from moments like that. pondering it might be a laugh to create one other, I dispelled Oberon’s camouflage in order that the surprising visual appeal of a massive puppy will be bound to startle anyone on Mill road, and if that somebody was once Hal, rather a lot the higher. The effective bar at Rúla Búla had a couple of extra stools to be had because the a little bit sauced lunch crowd lower back to their jobs, and Granuaile had not anything to do yet polish glasses while I sat down in entrance of her. Head a bit bowed, her eco-friendly eyes locked directly to mine as she seductively licked her top lip, a coy smile taking part in on the edges of her mouth. Refusing to be toyed with, I regarded up on the excessive cabinets packed with whiskey and knickknacks as though she have been doing not anything extra fascinating than predicting one other day of dry warmth, and she or he chuckled at me. “What’ll it's, Atticus? ” she acknowledged, putting a serviette in entrance of me. “A identify, i think, was once the place we left off.

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