Sick F*ck

Alex Cole will do anything for money. Murder? Check. Assault? Check. Infanticide? Check. Sexual favors? Double-check. But after getting himself roped into something called Kuman Thong - including its roasted human fetuses - Cole is left fighting unfathomable phenomena beyond his comprehension and rather unexpectedly trying save the world. All for a lousy paycheck.

Alex hates missing person’s cases. Unless they’re easy money. Anything is good when there’s easy money. Then there’s the delivery job. Get a box and hand deliver it to some rich jerk-off. Deal with another private investigator almost as skeezy as himself. And after all that there’s the Event. That’s sure to have a really, really, bad ending.

The cornerstone of private investigation—insurance fraud. Doing it, obviously. And then there’s the taxi job. Run someone to the airport while being chased by who knows what? Mix that in with drugs, party boats, and the Virgin Mary, and you’ve got a pretty standard day for one Mr. Cole. All for a lousy paycheck. Full of infanticide, evisceration, sadists, and snuff, Alex Cole is part private detective, part mercenary...all sick f--k. Cole Investigations is open—once more—for business.

Go forth, they said, and Alex Cole went. Alex is doing it again. What, you might ask? Saving the world, probably. All in the name of getting paid. Part of being a private investigator is making sure the client is safe, and when Alex accidently ends up babysitting a rich and famous (young and sexy) heiress, he’s willing to put everything on the line. His pound of flesh, you might say. But this one is going to cost him more than ever before. All for a lousy pay cheque. Full of … well, all the things you’d expect an Alex Cole book to be full of … Cole Investigations is always open for business.