The monsters aren’t gone. They’re evolving. After surviving wars with Vampires, Werewolves, and things that should never walk the earth, I thought I had earned a little peace. A quiet office. A few odd jobs. Maybe even a pint without watching my back. I was wrong. When a trail of brutal murders points to an ancient power stirring in the shadows, I’m dragged back into a world of blood, magic, and betrayal. Sam—the Vampire with purple DMs and sharper fangs—needs my help once again. Gizmo, my battle-scarred dog, is ready for the fight. And the rest of my unlikely crew—soldiers, fae, and outcasts—must face something none of us are prepared for. Demons, dragons, dark gods—it doesn’t matter what they are. If they’re hunting children and tearing through realms, then it’s my job to stand in their way. Even if it costs me everything. If you love gritty urban fantasy packed with action, humor, and heart—think Jim Butcher, Ben Aaronovitch, or Kevin Hearne—you’ll be hooked on Devine Enquiries 3. ■ Grab your copy today and dive into a supernatural London where the fight never ends.
From the opening pages of Devine Enquiries 3, the world brims with supernatural menace, layered intrigue, and a darkly comic tone that never lets go. The pacing is immediate, a murder, an old friend desperate for help, and Jason and Sam once again pulled into something far beyond routine. The urban fantasy setting allows for all manner of twisted oddities, but it’s the grounded realism in dialogue and relationships that anchors the story. What begins as a mystery of high-profile killings quickly turns into a full-on war with something primordial.
This installment blends crime procedural tropes with the grotesque and fantastical, but it's the creepy foreshadowing that truly makes the undead presence (both literal and thematic) so effective. Though zombies aren't the overt, lurching horde typical of mainstream horror, Devine Enquiries 3 introduces a different kind of zombification, emotional numbness, cybernetic surveillance, and a hive-mind society under digital siege. The mystery around “Optimus” becomes the metaphorical virus infecting systems and individuals alike.
Zombies appear in subtle yet powerful ways — as tools, pawns, and foreshadowed threats. There's a chilling moment when even the protagonists begin doubting their reality, questioning the autonomy of those around them. When characters are killed and resurrected in grotesque ways, the line between zombie and assassin blurs disturbingly. The suggestion that death is not the end, but only a transformation into something controlled and monstrous, speaks to the cyber-dystopian horror creeping into the narrative.
Jason and Sam's relationship, as always, is a highlight. Their banter, erotic tension, and shared trauma paint them as more than vampire clichés. Even in the darkest moments, like facing werecats or interrogating prisoners, they remain humanized through their empathy — or lack thereof when fighting zombified threats. Gizmo, their demon-dog companion, also plays a major role in defending against these threats, his presence both comforting and terrifying. One standout battle with what can only be described as a hybrid zombie-werecat assassin proves that horror can be elegant, if brutal.
The writing strikes a careful balance between supernatural spectacle and noir detective logic. The authors take time to investigate, to doubt, to hit bureaucratic walls, all the while the reader knows something far worse is lurking beneath. When the final confrontation unfolds, it's not just with a person or creature, but a force that represents the absolute zombification of information, power, and autonomy. Devine Enquiries 3 makes zombies frightening again, not because they moan or rot, but because they obey without question.
Fans of supernatural noir and philosophical horror will find this third installment the strongest yet. It isn't just a thrilling ride through vampires and werewolves, it’s a warning about losing our identity, piece by piece, to something that watches from behind every screen. A zombie story not of the flesh, but of the mind, and that’s what makes it unforgettable.
Devine Enquiries 3 is not just the next installment in a supernatural detective series it’s a fully weaponized dose of genre bending brilliance. With razor sharp wit, relentless pacing, and a truly original narrative voice, this novel blends the noir toughness of a private investigator story with the dark magic of urban fantasy. Jason Devine, his vampire partner Sam, and their demon dog Gizmo (who transforms into the terrifying Thunderchild) return to a London crawling with murder, myth, and monsters with stakes that climb higher with every chapter.
What sets this book apart is how seamlessly it fuses everyday detective work with the outrageous and the otherworldly. Werecats materialize through unstable portals, panthers rip through political figures in daylight, and corrupt surveillance infects not just institutions but reality itself. Yet amid the chaos, the writing remains grounded. There’s snappy banter, genuine emotion, and the kind of deadpan humor that only works when it’s rooted in lived-in characters. These aren’t superheroes they’re professionals trying to keep the world from falling apart one blood spattered clue at a time.
The central mystery is enthralling. What begins as a string of political assassinations quickly spirals into a conspiracy involving portals, cyber surveillance, and a terrifying new criminal entity known only as “Optimus.” The tension is electric every clue is booby trapped, every ally is at risk, and every decision feels like a gamble with real consequences. Jason and Sam’s dynamic is central to the story’s strength. Their romantic chemistry, built on sarcasm and mutual badassery, is the steady pulse that keeps the heart of the book beating strong.
But this isn’t just about action and clever plotting. There’s a philosophical undercurrent that elevates the book beyond typical fantasy fare. The villains are never just villains they’re part of a deeper commentary on control, technology, and the erosion of human agency. Who or what is Optimus? A person? A force? An algorithm gone rogue? The novel doesn’t offer easy answers, but it does deliver the kind of moral complexity that rewards thoughtful readers.
Courtney Sharpe’s writing is fast, filthy, and fierce. She’s not afraid to drop readers into violent confrontations, dead end leads, or scenes soaked in dread. But there’s a strange optimism under the grit: a belief in loyalty, in cleverness, and in the power of refusing to play by the system’s rules. Even when the enemy seems to be watching from every screen, Jason and Sam fight back with swords, sarcasm, and sheer stubborn will.
If you’re tired of fantasy that plays it safe or detective fiction that never dares to believe in monsters Devine Enquiries 3 will wake you up. It’s bloody, brilliant, and utterly addictive. This is urban fantasy with bite, brains, and a body count and once you start, there’s no going back.
In Devine Enquiries 3, the most unnerving monsters aren’t stitched together from corpses, they’re built from fear, routine, and blind obedience. This isn’t a zombie story about physical decay. It’s about the infection of control, subtle, systemic, and devastating. As Jason and Sam dig into the deaths of high-profile officials, they uncover something far worse than individual assassins: a reality where the living are hollowed out and piloted like meat-drones.
The idea of zombification is deeply embedded in the narrative structure. The pawns of Optimus, from werecat enforcers to puppet crime bosses, are not undead in the traditional sense, but they might as well be. They kill without motive. They follow orders issued by an unseen master. They are denied self-awareness. One unforgettable scene features panther-like assassins leaping from narrow portals to kill and vanish, a hauntingly precise metaphor for controlled violence with no memory or remorse.
The technology angle deepens the horror. Jason and Sam’s realization that every smart device could be a channel for influence brings a creeping dread. In this world, zombification doesn’t need bite marks, it needs bandwidth. The earbud implants used to hijack local gang leaders are a chilling modern stand-in for the classic virus. Once inserted, a person becomes a vessel. A listener. A doer. No questions asked.
The psychological toll is evident. Jason, who usually leans into his vampiric confidence and PI instincts, begins to show signs of real fear. Sam, ever the warrior, hesitates more often, wondering if the enemy is really outside the room or already in her head. Even Hilary, their hardened police contact, can’t outrun the rot. His transformation into a vampire may have saved his life, but it doesn’t save him from the growing paranoia. They’re fighting not people, but an idea. An “it.” A force of undead logic.
The novel’s title could easily have been The Obedient Dead. The theme resonates in every realm they cross: goblins who worship stolen cars, demons with eternal memories, faeries with icy hearts, and humans already devoured by digital whispers. When Chuna Six, a werecat assassin, finally breaks down and says, “It is everything and everywhere,” we know she isn’t speaking metaphorically. The virus has already won in places we haven’t thought to check.
This is zombie horror for the surveillance age, no shuffling corpses required. Instead, it explores what happens when society becomes so watched, so manipulated, so obedient that it forgets how to think. Devine Enquiries 3 delivers all the thrills of a supernatural mystery, but its deepest fear is disturbingly real: that death isn’t the end. It’s just another way to serve.
What sets Devine Enquiries 3 apart isn’t just its flair for the supernatural or its tangled mystery plot, it’s the emotional weight behind the bloodshed, the banter, and the bizarre. This is a novel about worn-out heroes in a world teetering between magic and modernity, trying to protect what little they still believe in. Jason and Sam have never been more compelling, not because they are stronger, but because they’re more human than ever.
The plot revolves around a series of brutal murders, high-ranking public figures killed with animalistic savagery in impossible circumstances. The locked-room mystery aspect hooks the reader early, and the book cleverly escalates its stakes with each new revelation. Whether it’s hair samples that aren’t human, or the impossible reappearance of long-lost scientific theories about portals, the plot thickens not through spectacle, but through accumulating questions.
Jason’s background as a private investigator grounds the fantastical elements in procedural realism. He approaches murder scenes like a beat cop with fangs. Meanwhile, Sam’s balance of sensuality, strategic thinking, and sheer combat prowess makes her one of the most fully realized urban fantasy heroines in recent memory. Together, they navigate a labyrinth of cryptic WhatsApp messages, double-agents, corrupted tech, and inter-realm politics.
One of the novel’s most enjoyable sections is the extended trip into the goblin realm. Unlike traditional portrayals, these goblins are vulgar, greedy, and strangely bureaucratic, almost a parody of broken systems. The deal-making with King Olenganu, who behaves like a cross between Jabba the Hutt and a used-car salesman, is both hilarious and unnerving. The clever fuel-based ruse involving the Land Rover adds levity and stakes, keeping the tension high even in scenes laced with absurdity.
Thematically, the novel is deeply concerned with control, not just physical, but informational. The mystery antagonist, Optimus, functions like a system virus: invisible, omnipresent, and deeply embedded in the world's infrastructure. Whether through surveillance tech or magical influence, the characters are constantly under threat of manipulation. This paranoia creates real dread, especially as even trusted allies begin to fall victim to hidden influence.
Ultimately, Devine Enquiries 3 is not just a tale of murder and monsters. It’s a cautionary fable about trust, autonomy, and the fragility of truth in a world built on lies. Smartly plotted, emotionally layered, and effortlessly stylish, it solidifies the series as one of the sharpest, most original supernatural thrillers on the shelf.
In Devine Enquiries 3, the monsters don’t just hide under beds or in shadows, they hide in systems, screens, and subtle manipulations. The result is a gripping, slow-burn thriller that blends classic urban fantasy with a techno-paranoia narrative that feels both eerily modern and mythologically rich. This is urban fantasy evolved, smarter, darker, and more relevant than ever.
The novel begins with blood. Three public figures, a commissioner, a mayor, and an MP, are killed in grotesque fashion. But what initially looks like supernatural savagery becomes a story of surgical precision. There are no witnesses, no evidence, and no ordinary explanation. That’s when Jason and Sam step in, not as heroes in capes, but as weary, clever fixers who know all the shortcuts and all the back doors into the hidden truths of their fractured world.
The central mystery grows more ominous as the investigation uncovers not just alternate realms but alternate identities. Everyone has a second phone, a secret group chat, or a hidden calendar. Nothing is what it seems. And behind it all looms Optimus, an entity more akin to an idea than a person, a presence that’s everywhere and nowhere. Its methods aren’t just magical; they’re algorithmic. Think Mr. Robot meets The Dresden Files.
Sam is especially well-rendered in this installment. Her growing discomfort with systems of power, from goblin kings to government surveillance, gives her a unique moral clarity. She sees through every ploy, every attempted intimidation. Her interaction with the werecat assassin, Chuna Six, is chilling and oddly compassionate, reflecting the complexity of being both predator and protector. Jason, too, shows depth, juggling sardonic humor with moments of quiet dread, especially as he realizes how little control they truly have.
The story is at its sharpest when Jason and Sam peel back the layers of deception. The earbud-controlled “leaders,” the goblins’ digitally encrypted black-market tech, the phones handed off to goblin hackers, all of it speaks to a world where the magic of yesterday and the technology of today are fusing into something terrifying. This is the death of privacy dressed in blood and charm.
By the end, Devine Enquiries 3 has become something rare: a supernatural mystery that not only entertains but provokes. It asks timely questions about freedom, surveillance, and the cost of comfort. With razor-sharp dialogue, meticulously plotted suspense, and characters that continue to evolve with every chapter, this book is another triumph in an increasingly addictive series.
In Devine Enquiries 3, the war isn’t just between realms, it’s internal. Every character, from Jason and Sam to Hilary and Ishaaq, is grappling with what it means to fight monsters without becoming one. What begins as a string of inexplicable murders unfolds into a haunting meditation on autonomy, manipulation, and the thin line between heroism and compromise.
The emotional resonance of this book is striking. Jason’s weariness, Hilary’s growing instability, Sam’s frustration with the endless leering of goblins and the moral ambiguity of demon pacts, all of it creates a textured sense of lived experience. This isn’t a world of clean victories. It’s a world where you barter fuel with goblins, send an assassin into the demon realm for safekeeping, and debate whether to partner with an agency so dangerous that even demons hesitate.
Sam’s evolution in particular is handled with care. Her strength isn’t just in swordplay or fang-baring bravado, it’s in her resolve to maintain her sense of justice even when the system fails. The scene in which she bargains with the demon lord Murzhalack is a standout moment of agency and fear. She knows the cost of playing in the shadows but does it anyway to protect others. That tension, between what she must do and who she wants to be, defines her arc.
The villains, if they can even be called that, are almost ethereal. Optimus remains faceless, a force rather than a foe. It’s this absence that makes it so terrifying. When Jason suggests that Optimus may not be a person but an “it,” the book tilts from fantasy toward existential horror. And when even Cowboy, a hardened information broker, breaks down in fear, the reader understands just how deep the corruption goes.
Despite the dread, the novel never loses its dark humor. From Gizmo’s transformation into the monstrous Thunderchild to the goblin king’s obsession with hamburgers and his stolen Land Rover, the narrative punctuates the tension with absurdity. These moments are not distractions, they are reminders that in a world saturated with surveillance and supernatural threats, small joys and weirdness still matter.
Devine Enquiries 3 is not just an excellent continuation of the series. It’s a philosophical and emotional deepening of everything that came before. It asks what happens when the people meant to protect you can’t. When the only way to fight back might involve the same darkness you’re trying to resist. And when the world itself, watched, wired, and weaponized, becomes the monster. A masterful, moody entry that lingers long after the final page.
Devine Enquiries 3 plunges readers into a gritty, irreverent world of vampires, werewolves, demons, goblins, and unfiltered crime, blending noir investigation with urban fantasy. The protagonist, Jason Devine, alongside his lethal and charming vampire partner Sam, navigates a multi layered plot involving political assassinations, portals, and an emerging criminal force known only as “Optimus.” The tone strikes a compelling balance between sarcastic grit and high stakes action, making it a darkly addictive read.
One of the strengths of the book lies in its fusion of genres. It takes the PI/crime investigation format and injects it with supernatural chaos, without losing the logic and momentum of a mystery novel. The strange creatures and otherworldly elements don't distract but elevate the plot. Everything unfolds with a hard boiled confidence, whether it’s summoning demons over tea or battling panther assassins in a snooker hall.
Characterization is a highlight. Jason and Sam’s relationship is both sensual and strategic, steeped in mutual respect and gallows humor. Their bond drives the narrative with emotional weight, while side characters like Hilary (the vampire cop) and Ishaaq (the reluctant gateway expert) add flavor and friction. Even the demon king Olenganu and the goblins are presented with comic menace, grounding the fantasy in human-like absurdity.
The dialogue crackles with wit and cynicism, reminiscent of a British Buffy meets Constantine energy. The manuscript also excels at world building through action, not exposition. The reader learns about vampire eroticism, goblin diplomacy, and inter realm travel organically through scenes, not info dumps. It respects the intelligence and imagination of its audience.
Ultimately, this installment cements the Devine Enquiries series as an urban fantasy worth following. It’s sharp, dark, funny, and wholly unpredictable. Fans of paranormal noir, smart mouthed protagonists, and layered conspiracies will find a lot to love and fear in its pages.
In a world filled with vampires, werecats, and goblin hackers, you’d think the law wouldn’t matter much. But Devine Enquiries 3 makes an excellent case for why who enforces justice and how still matters. Through Detective Inspector Hilary St John Stevens, a vampire cop navigating a bureaucratic nightmare, the book digs into questions of jurisdiction, corruption, and personal code.
Hilary’s struggle is emblematic. He’s both inside and outside the system, and his transformation into a vampire adds another layer of complexity. No longer fully human, yet sworn to uphold human law, he must juggle protocol with pragmatism. His exasperated trust in Jason and Sam “your peculiar talents” is not just begrudging respect but a commentary on how traditional policing fails against postmodern threats.
The legal gray areas in the story are fascinating. For example, when the protagonists debate whether to turn over Chuna Six to the demon realm or the government, it’s not just plot it’s philosophy. What is the ethical course when the law can’t act fast enough? How do you define justice in a world where your enemy is a metaphysical system?
These are complex questions, but the book never slows to sermonize. Instead, it allows the characters to argue, make imperfect decisions, and live with the consequences. That moral messiness is refreshing and realistic. It also deepens our investment in the outcome these aren’t superheroes, they’re people doing their best in a world turned upside down.
By mixing procedural realism with magical anarchy, the book critiques systems without abandoning the hope that good people can make a difference even if their methods involve swords and spells.
Beneath its supernatural swagger, Devine Enquiries 3 wrestles with deeper moral questions. What does justice look like when the system is broken and monsters walk among us? Should a sentient assassin be punished or pitied? What’s the cost of handing over a killer to a corrupt organization?
These questions come to a head in the subplot involving Chuna Six, a werecat assassin who becomes both a prisoner and a puzzle. Her allegiance to “Optimus” complicates matters, especially when she refers to her boss not as a person, but an “it.” The protagonists must decide whether to hand her over to the demon realm for safekeeping a choice that haunts the reader long after the scene ends.
This grey morality elevates the narrative. Jason and Sam aren’t heroes they’re warriors doing their best in a collapsing moral order. They operate outside the law because the law can’t keep up. The fact that they still debate ethics, even after brutal fights and chaotic nights, shows their humanity.
Hilary, their vampire cop ally, adds another layer of tension. His dual identity as lawman and supernatural being makes him both an asset and a liability. His evolution from reluctant informant to full blown combatant underscores the cost of involvement in this new war.
In the end, Devine Enquiries 3 is not about easy answers. It’s about the hard choices that come when truth, loyalty, and survival collide. It’s a book for readers who crave action but also want to feel the weight of every decision.
In a genre still dominated by male centric narratives, Devine Enquiries 3 offers a refreshing take on female power. Sam, as a vampire and co lead, is unapologetically strong, smart, and sexually confident. She isn’t there to soften Jason’s edge she sharpens it. She’s an equal partner in both action and intellect, and her presence elevates the book's feminist energy.
What makes Sam compelling is her complexity. She’s not just a femme fatale or a “strong female character” stereotype. She’s strategic, emotionally intelligent, and often the one pushing Jason to see connections he’s missed. She doesn’t seek permission, and she never backs down from violence when violence is necessary.
The book also gives Sam moments of sensuality and vulnerability but never weakness. Her eroticism is tied to agency, not objectification. Scenes involving her vampire instincts, especially neck-biting as a shared pleasure, are written with nuance and intensity, underscoring her identity as both predator and partner.
Sam isn’t alone in this representation. Characters like Rose the witch and even Chuna Six (the werecat assassin) are portrayed with dimension and conflict. They’re not just “mystical women” they have political roles, secrets, loyalties, and agency. They’re not plot devices; they’re plot drivers.
Readers looking for powerful female characters who aren’t boxed in by tropes will find a lot to admire here. Sam isn’t just a sidekick she’s the co architect of the series’ voice and vision.
The structure of Devine Enquiries 3 is both ambitious and agile. It juggles multiple subplots murders, political intrigue, hacker threats, supernatural contracts while maintaining clarity and momentum. The pacing never lags, and every detour ultimately feeds the central narrative. It’s a rare feat in genre fiction, and one that deserves recognition.
Each act in the book feels distinct. The early chapters focus on classic crime investigation tropes. The middle introduces deeper conspiracies and supernatural logic. By the end, we’re dealing with global surveillance and existential threats. Yet it never feels like genre whiplash because the tone and voice stay consistent throughout.
One reason this works is that information is revealed organically. Instead of dumping exposition, the author uses conversation, conflict, and physical investigation (often with swords) to unveil clues. Even the goblin subplot seemingly a comic tangent proves crucial for accessing encrypted phones and understanding portals.
There are also excellent foreshadowing threads. Characters mention names and details in passing that later become major revelations. The writing rewards attentive reading, and multiple callbacks create a sense of cohesion that feels earned rather than forced.
For readers who crave intricate plots but hate being confused, this book hits the sweet spot. It’s smart but accessible, twisty but never tangled. And when the final pieces begin to fall into place, the payoff is immensely satisfying.
Despite the high body count and supernatural terror, Devine Enquiries 3 is consistently funny. Not laugh out loud slapstick, but dry, dark, intelligent humor woven into the DNA of its characters and world. This humor isn’t just a tonal break it’s a survival mechanism.
Jason’s dry sarcasm, Sam’s biting wit, and Hilary’s grumpy realism help counterbalance the darkness. In scenes where the stakes are life or death, someone still complains about tea, cracks a joke about goblin etiquette, or quips about portal etiquette. These moments don't reduce the tension they humanize it.
Perhaps the best example is the entire goblin realm sequence. It could have been grim or confusing. Instead, it’s delightfully absurd: goblins trading hacked phones for car repairs, kingly tantrums over diesel fuel, and hamburgers served like sacred offerings. The tension is real, but so is the satire.
This balancing act works because the humor is organic. No one is trying to be “the funny one” they’re all just reacting honestly to a world gone mad. It makes them more relatable, even when they’re drinking demon blood or stabbing werepanthers.
In a genre that often takes itself too seriously, Devine Enquiries 3 reminds us that even in the middle of chaos, gallows humor can be a form of courage. And laughter, here, is a weapon as sharp as any sword.
Martin Hull’s Devine Enquiries 3 is a rollercoaster of supernatural intrigue, gritty crime, and sharp dialogue. Jason, Sam, and their unusual allies find themselves tangled in a series of brutal murders that blur the line between the ordinary world and the monstrous realms lurking beneath it. What makes this book so compelling is the way Hull balances action with humor, intimacy, and character depth. Sam’s fiery resilience and Jason’s wry pragmatism keep the story grounded even as vampires, portals, and werecats crash into the narrative. The pacing is relentless but never chaotic, and the unfolding mystery around “Optimus” is both chilling and clever. A must-read for fans of urban fantasy who want more grit, more blood, and more bite.
This installment delivers exactly what you’d expect if you’ve followed the Devine series so far: danger, sarcasm, and supernatural chaos. Hull keeps the tension high, especially when the murders appear targeted and political, pulling Jason and Sam into a conspiracy that stretches across realms. The blend of detective fiction and fantasy is handled with confidence, and I enjoyed how the mystery unfolds like a puzzle portals, hidden phones, cryptic messages, and violent encounters with werecats and assassins. Some sections run a little long with exposition, but the dialogue and action quickly pull you back in. It’s sharp, stylish, and leaves you eager for the next book.
One of the joys of Devine Enquiries 3 is its refusal to play it safe. Hull combines noir detective grit with supernatural mayhem in a way that feels fresh. Jason and Sam aren’t shiny superheroes they’re messy, complicated, often exhausted, but always determined. I loved the small details: Gizmo the demon dog stealing scenes, the goblins demanding car repairs, the tension of police politics colliding with vampire reality. Beneath the dark humor and violent clashes, the book raises smart questions about power, corruption, and surveillance in a hyper-connected world. It’s not just a supernatural romp; it’s a mirror held up to our own society.
I couldn’t put this down! Jason is dealing with a kraken in Dreamspace, a zombie creating faerie, and a rogue AI crime boss, and somehow it all makes sense. The action is relentless but there’s enough humor to keep it fun. A perfect finale for the series.