The Apocalypse Door

by James D. Macdonald

Genres: Visionary & Metaphysical; Apocalyptic

Synopsis

Peter Crossman is a man with a mission . . . and his boss is literally out of this world.

His world is a dangerous place . . . and it's Peter Crossman's job to protect it. Men of the cloth can only do so much. Against ancient evils, you need the ancient strength of faith. That's where Peter Crossman, Knight Templar in modern America, comes in. Crossman's world is yours and mine. Governments and businesses squabble, people go out for coffee, folks meet and fall in love, and the Red Sox will win the World Series when Hell freezes over. But that last just might happen if Crossman doesn't get his latest assignment right.

The Apocalypse Door is a spy story with a truly unique twist. On a routine mission from his order to discover the whereabouts of some missing UN peacekeepers, Peter Crossman discovers a plot that points to the uncovering of a very unholy artifact. An object of such power that it might very well open a portal to damnation and beyond, bringing some unsavory people a whole lot of power . . . or bring about the destruction of the universe.

And with the unlooked-for aid of Sister Mary Magdalene of the Special Action Executive of the Poor Clares, Peter Crossman will begin a journey to try and track down just what is being unleashed in the world and try like hell to stop it . . . or maybe stopping Hell here on Earth is more like it.

But, fortunately, demonic magic isn't the only source of Power in the world . . . and Peter Crossman's power comes from Above.

The Apocalypse Door is a smart, funny, and sexy spy caper with a touch of the sacred from a very talented writer.

You like Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Or want to be her?
Then The Apocalypse Door is for you. . . .

At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

Release date: December 8, 2009

Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

Print pages: 224

Sample

Excerpt from The Apocalypse Door:

The Blue Dolphin was a waterfront dive on the Hudson side of Manhattan. The lights were low, the vinyl on the seats was cracked, and the air was thick with the odors of sweat, cigarettes, and sin. I'd reported in by phone to the local chapter as soon as I was clear of Newark. The phone call had been four hours ago and every bone in my body kept screaming, "The OP is Blown, Get Out," but there are times when you have to ignore screaming bones. I mentally gave my contact fifteen more minutes and turned my attention back to observing the degradation of my fellow man.

I half-heard, half-felt someone approaching on my right. I still had my attention split three ways between what I hoped was a waitress, the stage, and the door—mostly the door—when she came up and bent over to murmur a few words in my ear. Her breath was warm, her lips moving close beside my ear. She was all but nibbling my earlobe.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been two days since my last confession."

My cover was blown. She knew what I was, even if she didn't exactly know who. And she knew exactly how to get to me. I couldn't refuse her the sacrament, not without risking my own damnation. I had no choice but to ask her, "What is your confession, my daughter?"

"I've come here to kill you."



Copyright J.D. Macdonald