imPerfect Gods - Rowan, C N
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And so it comes to this. A showdown. An ending. But if we fail - if I end - then reality might follow along behind me. We've been through so much. Torture. Murder. Trap after trap mainly sprung by me blundering head first into them and one of my friends saving my stupid behind. But there's no room for mistakes now. We've got an inkling of what the scumbag we're up against is after. Enough to know what his next target is. Enough to know it's probably his last one. Enough to know it's everything he needs to complete his nefarious plans. If we don't get there first, he wins. Simple. And I'm not…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
And so it comes to this. A showdown. An ending. But if we fail - if I end - then reality might follow along behind me. We've been through so much. Torture. Murder. Trap after trap mainly sprung by me blundering head first into them and one of my friends saving my stupid behind. But there's no room for mistakes now. We've got an inkling of what the scumbag we're up against is after. Enough to know what his next target is. Enough to know it's probably his last one. Enough to know it's everything he needs to complete his nefarious plans. If we don't get there first, he wins. Simple. And I'm not sure ... but my gut says if that happens, every living thing in the universe loses. No pressure, right? imPerfect Gods is the sixth book in The imPerfect Cathar series, and completes the first story arc. It is a darkly funny supernatural suspense mystery, containing dark humour and graphic violence.
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Autorenporträt
It's been a strange, unbelievable journey to arrive at the point where these books are going to be released into the wild, like rare, near-extinct animals being returned to their natural habitat, already wondering where they're going to nick cigarettes from on the plains of Africa, the way they used to from the zookeeper's overalls. C.N. Rowan ("Call me C.N., Mr. Rowan was my father") came originally from Leicester, England. Somehow escaping its terrible, terrible clutches (only joking, he's a proud Midlander really), he has wound up living in the South-West of France for his sins. Only, not for his sins. Otherwise, he'd have ended up living somewhere really dreadful. Like Leicester. (Again - joking, he really does love Leicester. He knows Leicester can take a joke. Unlike some of those other cities. Looking at you, Slough.)With multiple weird strings to his bow, all of which are made of tooth-floss and liable to snap if you tried to use them to do anything as adventurous as shooting an arrow, he's done all sorts of odd things, from running a hiphop record label (including featuring himself as rapper) to hustling disability living aids on the mean streets of Syston. He's particularly proud of the work he's done managing and recording several French hiphop acts, and is currently awaiting confirmation of wild rumours he might get a Gold Disc for a song he recorded and mixed.