Jack Daws, disgraced CIA agent, terrible writer, committed drunk and flagging degenerate, is back. Thirteen years after his awful first novel, The God Complex, sold 97 million copies and either predicted or inspired the assassination of a president-elect, Daws has delivered an even worse sequel.
His publisher couldn't be more delighted:
ALEX ANGEL, the kick-ass one-armed nun, is BACK! A dozen years after her first thrilling, sexy adventure in the mega-blockbusting God Complex, the sister assassin returns to battle an all-new evil Pope and his monk minions and uncover a sacred secret that will bring about Armageddon, or worse. God's Blood, out in time for Christmas.
One complication: Daws' fans keep trying to kill him. Or the CIA is trying to kill him and make it look like his fans killed him. Or his fans are trying to kill him and make it look like the CIA killed him trying to make it look like his fans were killing him.
That is, if Daws doesn't kill himself first.
Welcome to 2018, where reality is optional, fiction is nonfiction, where what could go wrong went wrong, a living underworld of steamy Octobers, endless garbage strikes, black market erectile dysfunction drugs, seven different kinds of terrorists, Seth McFarlane on Broadway - as you feared, only a little worse.
This 25,000-word excerpt - profane, filthy, with anger issues - begins a work-in-progress the author should have finished by now.
Genre: Thriller
His publisher couldn't be more delighted:
ALEX ANGEL, the kick-ass one-armed nun, is BACK! A dozen years after her first thrilling, sexy adventure in the mega-blockbusting God Complex, the sister assassin returns to battle an all-new evil Pope and his monk minions and uncover a sacred secret that will bring about Armageddon, or worse. God's Blood, out in time for Christmas.
One complication: Daws' fans keep trying to kill him. Or the CIA is trying to kill him and make it look like his fans killed him. Or his fans are trying to kill him and make it look like the CIA killed him trying to make it look like his fans were killing him.
That is, if Daws doesn't kill himself first.
Welcome to 2018, where reality is optional, fiction is nonfiction, where what could go wrong went wrong, a living underworld of steamy Octobers, endless garbage strikes, black market erectile dysfunction drugs, seven different kinds of terrorists, Seth McFarlane on Broadway - as you feared, only a little worse.
This 25,000-word excerpt - profane, filthy, with anger issues - begins a work-in-progress the author should have finished by now.
Genre: Thriller
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