Alaska State Trooper Investigator Jake Ward knows exactly what a desperate fight for survival looks like. But the victims turning up in the bitter Alaskan cold aren't fighting at all. Devoid of defensive wounds and left with expressions of eerie, perfect calm, the bodies tell a chilling story.
The killer isn't using physical force. He is subduing his targets with a paralyzing peace.
Declaring himself a divine "Ministrant," this elusive zealot is leading a deadly crusade to cleanse the earth, recruiting disciples to assist in his twisted harvest. But as Ward follows the evidence, the trail leads to a horrifying revelation. The murderer's ability to erase fear isn't divine—it's a dark weapon engineered in the same nightmare that Ward barely survived.
To stop the slaughter, Ward must return to the hell that forged them both.
David A. Willson spent over two decades as an Alaska State Trooper, working major crimes across some of the most remote and beautiful terrain in the country. But even before the badge, he was a kid who found refuge in stories — reading everything he could get his hands on, trying to make sense of a world that moved too fast.
That love of narrative never left him. Today, Willson writes fiction that blends his real-world experience with a deep curiosity about the human soul, the patterns that shape behavior, and the spiritual mysteries that often go unspoken.
His supernatural crime thriller, Wet, Warm and Noisy, pulls readers into the haunting beauty and danger of Alaska, where truth is elusive and healing comes through fire. He is also the author of the YA fantasy duology Looking for Dei and Finding Kai — stories that explore destiny, courage, and faith.
More recently, Willson turned his storytelling lens toward a new adventure: grandfatherhood. Confessions of a Tiny Genius, a comedic short story told from the perspective of a hyper-intelligent baby, captures the absurd joy of watching the world through younger — and sharper — eyes.
When he’s not writing, he’s traveling, reading, or building something — a barndominium, a bookshelf, or a better question. He splits his time between Alaska and Kentucky, always watching for the next story worth telling.
I read a lot of thrillers, and most of them blend together after a while. This one stuck with me because of how creepy the whole setup is. Victims with no defensive wounds, just this peaceful look on their faces like they welcomed death. That image stayed in my head for days. The killer calls himself a "Ministrant" and thinks he's on some divine mission. The Alaska setting is perfect cold, isolated, unforgiving. I didn't realize this was book two in a series until after I finished, but it worked fine as a standalone. There were a few spots where the pacing dragged, but the final third really pulled me in. A solid, unsettling read