Of Gods and Madness: The Faithful
Set in a heathen port city, Of Gods and Madness: The Faithful is about a gangster who becomes a god, only to find out that the gods can die too.
Raine Morgan is an enforcer for Na Creidmhigh, the only crime family in Sandhyanen. He's got a well-earned reputation for sparing his marks, being one of the few in the Family that doesn't kill. When he is tasked with hunting down two miscreants who have been messing with the Family's bottom line, he finds them assaulting a woman and charges in to help her, only to accidentally kill her in the ensuing brawl.
Now he's trying to cross the city in order to bring justice to those men, while the Officers and his own mob family are trying to capture him.
Things only get more complicated when the gods return to town, intent on claiming Raine as one of their own.
Of Gods and Madness: The Faithful was completed in 2009 after several failed starts. Shortly into the first rewrite, I realized the crucial scene of the first act needed to be overhauled, which would change the rest of the novel and all the actions of every character. This resulted in multiple rewrites, variations, new characters being added in and others dropped. All in all, its own sort of nightmare.
Of Gods and Madness: The Faithful is finished. Wow. That feels good to say. After several changes in direction and being served an outsider's POV on the project, I was able to finally put The Faithful out for everyone to enjoy. It's going to be a divisive book, but I'm totally looking forward to its potential and having conversations on both sides of the fence.
Of Gods and Madness: The Faithful will be released on July 21st, 2015 in eBook and trade. Possibly in the future it'll have a hardback release. Now that it's coming out, it's time to start writing those sequels.
For those of you not sure if you want to read the novel, it'll be available in Serial form soon.
All these images are by Tobiee, whose artwork has been a huge inspiration for me on this novel
- This novel originally started out as a story about a man who has migraines and is taking heavy amounts of medication, but his girlfriend believes that the pills are causing the problems, so she begins to switch them out with placebos. As she does this, he begins to see monsters and twisted creatures (a la Hellraiser) and gets sucked into a desolate world.
- At one point, this story was split into two novels, the first ending with the gods coming to town and the second ending where the novel currently does. Even a godslayer showed up in one of the drafts and played a prominent role in exploring the world outside of Sandhyanen. Don't worry, Haden Doherty will show up in future novels.
- The Trickster, Theon, has showed up in every one of my novels thus far.
Raine stumbled forward, collapsing into his nightstand. It jerked, its contents shifting. A lamp crashed to the floor while a dirty glass sloshed, pitching off the edge.
He caught the glass. Watered down and useless whiskey splashed his hand then came to rest. His stomach lurched at the thought of drinking again. He swallowed hard, the tainted liquor plummeting down to his empty stomach. He breathed in twice, sharp, labored breaths, then plucked a crooked cigarette from an ashtray. He straightened, bones cracking.
Slipping into the bathroom, he flipped on the row of lights. A pop hit his ears, another light dead. Only two of the seven lights remained. He stared at his reflection, exhaling a puff of smoke. Though he’d spent half the evening drinking and nursing his wounds, it hadn’t helped much.
Reaching up, Raine tapped a finger along the reflection. Nothing. He banged his fist against its side.
The mirror flickered to life. After an agonizing minute, a collection of three silent displays loaded up. He swiped across and news reports flitted by, dissolved, transitioned to a blank screen, words filing onto the space. He made three more gestures, then music started to play through the speakers. The bittersweet strings of a cello filled the room.
Raine peeled the bandages from his fist. He grimaced, threw the wrappings away. He examined the beet red flesh, finding it complimented the rest of his wounds quite well.
He crossed to the shower as the music shifted to a high pitched squeal of twisted metal. Spinning round, he smacked the glass once more.
The image flashed, the melancholy strings resumed.
“Piece of shit,” he muttered.
He turned the shower on, stripped down. The scalding water assaulted his body and found its way into cuts he hadn’t realized he’d had. His scalp hissed in agony as little bits of glass pelted the shower tile. He sucked in a sharp rush of smoke with the pain. He tapped the ash against the wall, careful to keep the cigarette from the water, as he rattled off excuses for his failure to the unresponsive tile.