The Story

Detroit’s eastside has seen its share of horrors. Once-proud factories gutted for scrap. Whole neighborhoods burned out and boarded up. Nature drained of color. But nothing like this: a thought-virus that turns the city’s dogs feral and its underclass into jackal-headed beasts.

The city erupts in chaos and nightmare violence. Communication in or out is impossible. The skies fill with lethal drone copters and airships bristling with heavy-duty cannon. Abandoned to their separate fates among hordes of monsters, the few surviving humans must find a way to elude the military blockade preventing their escape or to defeat the virus at its source—before government forces sacrifice them all.

Breakneck action, rogue science and deft portraiture combine for a grand and gripping tale of urban terror.

Reviews 

“Unlike some run-of-the-mill zombie apocalypses, this well-written, multilayered tale has depth and complexity; when people transform into monsters, it feels more like Ionesco's Rhinoceros than Night of the Living Dead... Edwards is a master of character building, and as random people morph into beasts, those left behind tend to ponder their inner landscapes as much as their outrageous circumstances... By turns entertaining, poignant, and heady, a thoroughly enjoyable thrill ride powered by jolts of philosophy.”
- Kirkus Reviews

“The novel is a high action horror-thriller with supernatural underpinnings. But the heart of the novel rests in the all-too-human characters acting out of luck and instinct.”
- Jaffalogue

“...urban horror fiction at its best, promising prior fans and newcomers alike a read that is marked by elements of supernatural fiction, thriller writing, and high-tech threats...  highly recommended for any who enjoy survivalist sagas with a supernatural twist.” 
– D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

Chapter Excerpt

Flames whirled and crackled through the corner lot house, belching gouts of black smoke. There was no hope of saving it. The firefighters hauling sledges, chainsaws, ladders or hand lines worked only to contain the fire. No other homes were in any immediate danger. The Craftsman on the other side had been torched to its foundation the previous summer. Arson or entertainment, who knew anymore?

A fire engine was slant-parked in the street. Its beacon lights flashed silently over the growing crowd. A bright torrent of water fountained into the house through the doorless entry. Every break and rent in the structure belched smoke, hazing up the August sunset. The neighbors watched with fire-limned faces, some amused, some dispirited or angry. Kids ran around the crowd’s outer edge as though loosed at a carnival midway. A shaved ice vendor parked kitty-corner from the blaze touting the latest cocktail flavors. The young onlookers closest to the fire’s perimeter squinted and held their hands up against the heat. They raised their cell phones to record the action.