Yancy Lazarus

The year is 1969. Yancy Lazarus - bluesman, gambler, future world-class mage and fix-it man - is just a dumb, unlucky kid serving with the 3rd Battalion 3rd Marines in Vietnam. With just a few weeks left to go until Yancy gets shipped back to the States, he’s just trying to keep his head down and avoid a body bag - no mean feat in Nam. But when his squad is tasked with conducting a routine patrol deep in enemy territory, everything goes to nine kinds of hell, and he quickly sees his chances at survival slipping away.

Yancy Lazarus is having a bad day: there's a bullet lodged in his butt cheek, his face looks like the site of a demolition derby, and he's been saran-wrapped to a banquet table. He never should have answered the phone. Stupid bleeding heart - helping others in his circles is a good way to die - just ask the gang members ripped to pieces by some kind of demonic nightmare in LA.

Yancy Lazarus just wants to be left alone. He wants to play his blues music, smoke a few cigarettes, and otherwise leave the supernatural world to fend for itself. He especially wants to be left alone by the Guild of the Staff - the mage ruling body where he used to work as a fix-it man. But when a little kid gets nabbed by an ancient fae creature from the nether regions of Winter, and the Guild refuses to set things right, he just can't seem to heed good sense and leave things be.

Bigfoot is real. Yancy Lazarus - mage, bluesman, and rambler - knows because there happens to be a nine-foot-tall, walking myth standing in the road, flagging him down. Yancy just can't escape his reputation as a supernatural fix-it man even when cruising through the forgotten backwoods of Montana. Turns out Bigfoot has a serious problem on his hands: one of his own has gone rogue, developing a taste for the flesh of humans and Sasquatch alike.

Legions of murderous undead, Haitian voodoo, and a 5,000-year-old serpent god. Yeah, 'cause that's exactly what Yancy Lazarus needs in his life: more complications. As if being the Hand of Fate and the newly appointed guardian over one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse wasn't headache enough. All Yancy wants is an easy life on the open road - chock-full of ribs, beer, cigarettes, and smoky bars blaring with gritty blues music - but that just isn't in the cards. Nope, not anymore.

Yancy Lazarus - mage, bluesman, and demon-souled - is having the worst hangover of his life. He just woke up in a dingy hotel in literal Hell with one eye missing, an arm covered in swirling golden tattoos, and no recollection of the past six months. All he wants is to figure out how he ended up in the Great Below and whether there’s a way home. But getting out of Hell is no easy feat. Yancy is the most wanted man in the infernal city of Pandæmonium, and he’s being hunted by demonic cutthroats for a series of high-profile murders he can’t remember committing.

Yancy Lazarus - mage, bluesman, and Hand of Fate - is back from Hell, and the world of the living ain't what it used to be. The Guild of the Staff is broken, his friends are being hunted down, and the pact between the supernatural nations is on the brink of collapse. Someone needs to shoot some sense into people, and if there's one thing Yancy knows about a job well done, it's that you have to do it yourself.