Breaking Bad meets Batwoman in this wild, action-packed vigilante adventure from bestselling author John Reinhard Dizon.
Genre: FICTION / Crime
Watch out villains and criminals, there's a new superhero in town.
After her father's death, Sabrina Brooks, the heiress to the Brooks Chemical Company, tries to put the pieces of her life back together. With access to top-secret government archives and her own interest and knowledge of chemistry, Sabrina concocts weaponry of her own, becoming a crime-fighting vigilante known as the "Nightcrawler,” battling the filthy drug gangs of New York.
With the help of NYPD undercover officer, Hoyt Wexford, Sabrina wages a war against the ruthless drug dealers threatening the streets of the city. Despite their resourcefulness and teamwork, they might not be strong enough to defeat the fiendish arch-criminals. Will the city fall prey to the slimy drug dealers or will the Nightcrawler take them out once and for all?
"This book kept me up until 4:30 AM to finish it." -Larry Winebrenner, Amazon Review-
“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been a couple of weeks since my last confession.”
“There is only one Heavenly Father, and He alone forgives sins.”
“I'm sorry, Pastor. Old habits die hard.”
“Always good to see you, Bree. Have a seat.”
Sabrina Brooks had been on a spiritual quest since the death of her father. He had left her as the sole heir of Brooks Chemical Company, and suddenly she had come crashing back to reality from a lifetime world of fantasy. She had been a spoiled child who grew up to be a party brat, only the death of her mother four years ago sobered her enough to earn her degree in chemistry at New York University. She was reluctantly stepping into the breach as her father's successor, but she needed answers to rest her troubled soul. She had finally come to the Force of God Christian Church on the Bowery, and Matt Mitchell was helping her find them.
Mitchell had opened the storefront church a year ago on a wing and a prayer, and Bree came at a time when the situation was just beginning to stabilize. People in the community sought stability in the Great Recession, and he had enough tithe-paying regulars to keep his doors open for believers in Truth. Bree came twice a month, and her donations were large enough to double the Church's income. She came by during the week now and again for counseling, and the pastor was always glad to oblige.
“I think I'm going to have to go back out,” she said softly as they sat in the back office of the small but cozy meeting place.
“Have you seen the papers?”
The Pastor, a man in his fifties with receding gray hair and wire-rimmed glassed, looked down at the desk where Bree sat before him before answering.
Already translated. Translated by Mel Blumen