Happy publication day to author V.P. Evans! To celebrate the release, The Rebirth will be ONLY $0.99 for a limited time!
Publication Date: March 16th, 2023
Genre: Suspense/ Thriller
A night where everything begins . . . and everything ends.
For the past decade, police homicide consultant Mark Gilliam has been wasting his life with corpses, drugs, and alcohol. Things weren’t always like this. Ten years ago, he was a soldier, a husband, a . . . father. But it’s what he deserves. He couldn’t protect his son from the monsters that took him away.
For the past decade, Jason Roneros has been living a reclusive life, forced to spend the rest of his days in isolation. Things weren’t always like this. Ten years ago, he was a well-respected author, a fighter, a . . . dreamer. But it’s what he deserves. He trusted these monsters.
For the past decade, Mark and Jason haven’t seen each other.
But everything is about to change . . .
A murder brings them together one night, trapping them in the streets of Chicago in search of redemption down a cryptic path that could unlock the darkest scandal in history. As the path unrolls secrets buried in great works of art and philosophical writings, the shadiest aspects of the human soul come to the surface. Soon, the two men realize that those hunting them, closing in with each passing minute, are equally dangerous as the ghosts of the past . . .
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Jason seemed so changed from the last time they’d met: his skin was yellow, as if forgotten by the coltish tickle of life. His face appeared exhausted, as if feckless to carry the striking features of the past. Two brusque lines around his mouth resembled deep snicks. Fitful creases whipped his forehead. His white, medium-length hair was combed back, just as it had been ten years ago, though a receding hairline now marked his forehead. His skeletal hands seemed incapable of keeping the watch fastened on his wrist, while his legs were so bony they seemed likely to break. Although Jason, like Oscar, was in his mid-sixties, he looked at least a decade older.
“There’s no time left.”
His voice remained rich, though. It still carried the slight British accent from his days in Oxford.
A mild shaking started traversing Oscar’s body. He put his glasses on the newspaper and stood, using the desk for support. “You need to leave.” He struggled to sound calm. “They were clear, Jason. We cannot be together. The deal—”
“The deal doesn’t exist anymore.” Jason scratched at his neck, above the collar of his white shirt, where an already reddened patch of eczema had become even more inflamed. “Dermot Walsh is dead.”
“What? How do you know—?”
“He told me himself. A few minutes ago. Texted me, pointing out his killers.”
“Murdered?” Oscar soughed, terrified by the ensuing sentence.
“By them,” Jason added, confirming Oscar’s dread. “The Imperatores are already after me.”
“Jesus.” The Imperatores. That name. Saliva filled Oscar’s mouth, choking him. “After all these years … now? Why? We had a damned agreement!” He slammed his hands on the desk, trying in vain to expel the fear inside him. His palms burned from the hit.
“To stop me,” Jason said, his words faint yet filling the huge office.
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About the Author
V.P. Evans is the pen name of an average (and perhaps boring) guy who seems desperate to disappear into lands far away. You would probably find him lost in a secluded village in Estonia, wandering among the wild islands of the Azores, or backpacking across vague paths in Asia. And sometimes, as the fading lights and the thick darkness of this mysterious cosmos unfold before him, he has an idea and writes it down.
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