A Sneak Peek at My Upcoming Novel, 'Sick to Death'

I spent the better part of 2015 writing a novel titled Sick to Death. I’ve spent much of 2016 editing it, having some pros edit it even more, and praying to the literary gods the damn thing sells.

Sick to Death is your average, everyday tale about a group of terminally ill individuals who become serial killers to make their city a safer place to live. And die.

Call it a beach read.

Following is the tagline and blurb that will appear on the back cover of the book:

Knowing you’re dying can be murder.

When Gage Adder finds out he has inoperable pancreatic cancer, things really start to look up for him. He leaves his soul-crushing job, joins a nice terminal illness support group, and takes up an exciting new hobby: Beating the hell out of bad guys.

Gage’s support group friends Jenna and Ellison don’t approve of his vigilante activities. Jenna says fighting never solves anything. Poison, on the other hand… When the three decide to team up and hit the streets, suddenly no rapist, pedophile or other odious criminal in the city is safe.

They are the sickest of superheroes. Their superpower is nothing left to lose. But what happens when one of them takes this power too far and puts at risk the lives of hundreds of innocent people? Where does one draw the line when dying to kill?

For those of you sick enough to want a bit more, here is the opening from Chapter 1:

Everyone in the subway car gasped when the man with the shaved head slid off his seat and crumpled to the floor.

Everyone except Gage. He just leaned back with his head resting against the window, tapping the ivory handle of his walnut walking cane. As the train rattled around a curve beneath the heart of Philly, Gage ignored the panic and commotion, keeping his eyes on the supine skinhead and on the woman who was now frantically administering CPR to bring him back into the world. 

The woman’s rescue efforts were futile. Gage knew this. He knew there was no coming back from the two hundred milligrams of sodium cyanide coursing through the skinhead’s body. How the cyanide made its way into the body, well, Gage knew that, too. And if all went well, he’d remain the only one who knew. And all usually went well. Gage was quite good at cyanide.

And ricin.

And arsenic.

Unfortunately, Gage was also quite adept at Gemcitabine.

And Oxaliplatin.

And Irinotecan.

Unless you’re an oncologist or the patient of one, you’ve probably never heard of those last three. 

Over the previous six months, there was only one thing Gage had become more efficient at than killing… and that was dying.

But for now let’s keep things positive and focus on the former.

The skinhead was the second person Gage had murdered in three weeks.

It had been a slow month.

You’re just dying to know what day Sick to Death will be available, RIGHT? Me too! Publishing isn’t an exact science, but the book should be dropping early to mid-September. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to keep you updated.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to writing yet another twisted tale to draw the attention of the FBI.