A series of gruesome deaths that seem to have to visible perpetrator baffle police. How can they fight a killer that no one can see? The search for the answer to that question will lead cop Decker Martin into a world of a religion that he only halfway understands and doesn’t really believe in, as well as dredge up things better left in the past – both his own and the state of Virginia’s. As more people die and Martin delves even farther into the mystery of why, he soon realizes that it isn’t just these civilians that he is trying to protect – his own life may very well be in danger.
Premise was interesting, and I had read Masterton before, so I thought, eh, why not? Oh, let me count the ways. Rampant misogyny and hints of racism made the protagonist so unlikeable and unrelateable that I very nearly put the book down instead of finishing. I just…I wanted Decker to die. The fact that he apparently inspired such love from his girlfriend as to make her want to warn him from beyond the grave is mind-boggling. I don’t know if it is the character or the author, but the fact that not one woman (aside from possibly Queen Ache) was written as a solid character in her own right made me sick to my stomach. Decker’s interactions with these women read very much like wish fulfillment to me, because apparently he was just irresistible that even the captain’s wife will cheat with him. Fine, whatever. I also found the loving sexual descriptions to be rather gratuitous, and ultimately pointless. That said, there is one scene in Decker’s home that was legitimately terrifying. I remember reading past that scene and wondering how one novel could have so much bad writing, and yet manage to have that one scene that actually made the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end. I don’t think I will revisit this author.