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End times are here again.
A half-human, half-angel with a bad rep and a worse attitude—we are talking abuout the former Lucifer here—James Stark, aka Sandman Slim, has made a few enemies. None, though, are as fearsome as the vindictive Angra Om Ya—the insatiable, destructive old gods. But their imminent invasion is just one of Stark's problems, as L.A. descends into chaos, and a new evil stalks the city.
No ordinary killer, the man known as St. Nick takes Stark deep into a conspiracy that stretches from Earth to Heaven and Hell. Further complicating matters is that he may be the only person alive who knows how to keep the world from going extinct. He's also Stark's worst enemy—the only man in existence Stark would enjoy killing twice—and one with a direct line to the voracious, ancient gods.
405 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 26, 2014








Please note: I don't review to provide synopses, I review to share a purely visceral reaction to books and perhaps answer some of the questions I ask when I'm contemplating investing time and money into a book.
I’m used to Aqua Regia’s kick, but down enough at once and it’s going to turn anyone’s cerebral cortex into chocolate pudding. I let it and the tea do their work. They fight it out in my stomach. The Hellion hoodoo wrestling whatever kind of magic Mr. Bones uses. My stomach cramps and for a few seconds I want to throw up. But I hold on and the feeling passes. The room gets thin, like it’s made of black gauze. I put the crow feather between my teeth just as I fall out of myself.
***
“Okay, Cassandra, there’s something else. Did it rain much when you were down there?”
“No. I don’t remember it raining at all.”
“Well, it is now. Raining cats and dogs and little imps with pitchforks. I mean, there’s doomed. There’s screwed. And there’s monsoons-in-Hell fucked. And we’re at fucked o’clock.”