Gabriel Church knows you can’t take a life without first understanding just how feeble life is, how tentative and weak it stands alone. If you desire murder, you hold a life in your hand. Whether you release it to grant life or grip tighter to end it, it is at your command and discretion. Gabriel is a serial killer with a story he wants told. Christian Maxwell studied abnormal psychology in college but chose instead to focus on a career in writing. His background comes in handy when he thinks of writing about a serial killer. He can’t think of anyone more qualified to write the story of Gabriel Lee Church, and do so in the murderer’s own words. It’s been done before, but never with a killer who has yet to be captured or convicted. There was never anything more than a gentleman’s understanding between the two men that Christian would record Gabriel’s life story. The killer did not ask for his complicity in any crimes, nor did he ever ask for his silence. Christian’s interest in the man, though, is fast becoming something more than academic. When the writer and his subject become unexpected friends and then lovers, the question remains: What is Gabriel’s endgame . . . and why does he want his story told?
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Christian is a smart guy, and a talented writer, and now he is writing the story of a serial killer, whose story isn’t finished yet! The way these men are written is brilliant, because the author makes it seem like the feelings between these two men is a natural progression the story should take, the flow of this book is wonderful!
I don’t give away spoilers, but I will say that this book pulls no punches, makes no apologies, and basically kicks ass and takes names! Grab it if you want a mindbending, sexy read that will leave you wanting book two with a quickness! Thanks Rodd, for a book that made me take a walk on the dark side and really enjoy it!
An archangel, a church. A Christian confessor. A blinding white light, the sign of some almighty power. An epiphany, yet ironically the story of a serial killer bent on utter wreckage.
What does it all mean?
Is the killer a thoroughly evil man? Does his biographer share the guilt because he does not turn him in to the authorities—even loves him, shields him, fears for him? Does a cold killer deserve redemption?
The author asks a lot of hard questions, and the answers are not easy.
Apart from the lapses in grammar and style, this is a boldly written—even groundbreaking—novel. Clark’s deft creation of a killer is such that we almost lie at his side as his lover does, listening to the muffled sound of that hole in his heart, falling into the heaven of his eyes and wanting redemption for him. The sexual side of the book is handled well, yet almost offhandedly. Natural and easy, extremely visceral. It’s not at all difficult to see and feel these men falling first in lust and then feeling deep emotion for each other.
I thought I’d never give top marks to a writer who betrays such inattention to the basics of writing (style, grammar, those Harpies of every school marm). BUT … BUT he writes in the kind of metaphorical style I envy, with images and words that strip language to its very bone and marrow. BUT he has created both a monster and a man of astonishing beauty. I am mesmerized by the style, the characters, the story, the bleak search for answers.
This writer deserves serious attention. With the creation of Gabriel, he has torn a hole in my heart too. Five stars for sheer brilliance, chutzpah, creativity. For a character I will honest to God never forget.