The Jesus Injection
After an assassination attempt ruins his vacation, Agent Buck 98 is given a cryptic message by a dying drag queen: 3-1-4. The numbers match the date of Dr. Timothy Shoulwater’s death, the noted scientist rumored to have discovered a potential cure for the AIDS virus before his notes mysteriously disappeared. Buck is paired with his former best friend turned rival Agent 49, the lovely Miss Noxia von Tüssëll, to investigate Dr. Shoulwater’s ex-wife, the religious zealot and growing political advocate Dr. Raven Evangelista, who sponsors a heavily conservative political platform while secretly pursuing more personal and devious ambitions.
But it’s neither an anti-gay political bomber nor the romantic pursuit of Richard, the handsome caterer he just met, that challenges Buck the most. It’s that before the end of the mission, Buck must keep Noxia from discovering his own darkest fear.
“Fast paced and readable, Eric Andrew-Katz The Jesus Injection is a character-driven mystery with familiar political scenery
and a well put together paranoic’s nightmare of a credible story line”. ~ Felice Picano – author of Like People In History
“…A hilariously irreverent satire.” ~ John Rechy, author of City of Night
“Andrews-Katz displays a keen ear for dialogue and a good sense of style and humor. I look forward to more from him” – C.J. Bille – Seattle Gay News
Interview blog about THE JESUS INJECTION – Gregory L Norris
EXCERPT from THE JESUS INJECTION:
“Good monsieur,” she begged, taking a firm hold on Buck’s arm. He glared at her, and the drag queen pulled back her hand slowly. “Why in such a rush? The night is young, and so are you. Tonight is meant for lovers! Why be alone?”
Buck gave her a quick study. If she weren’t stooped over with alcohol, she would probably stand six feet five–not including the cascading red wig. The dress was obviously second or even thirdhand, as the style hadn’t been seen in decades. Despite the eyebrows being shaped and the face painted well, the makeup base was not properly blended at the neck, an amateur’s mistake.
Drag was clearly something new to her. She had yet to find good taste.
“I’m not alone,” Buck said, taking a step back. He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket. “I’m actually running a few minutes late and need to let my friends know.”
She teetered forward, stepping out of the door frame. “Take my picture to show her. So she won’t be jealous when you say you were detained by a beautiful woman.”
Buck laughed. He stepped backward and set his phone to camera. She framed herself in the doorway with a dramatic flair. She tugged at her dress, ripping the collar until she exposed a broad shoulder with retreating wispy strands of hair. He snapped several pictures.
“It’s very kitten with a whip, no?” the redhead said.
“No,” Buck said with a shiver. “Bonsoir.” He pocketed his phone and returned to his quest for dinner.
“You are very handsome, monsieur.” She took an unsteady step forward, squinting her eyes. Her voice became as direct as her focus, and she spoke very slowly. “You look familiar.”
Buck smiled. “I get mistaken for Orlando Bloom a lot,” he replied. The drag queen studied Buck’s dark brown hair, staring into his hazel eyes with a blank expression. Throwing another euro into the bowl, he turned to make a quick exit.
“I get mistaken for Ann-Margret,” the drag queen called out causing him to stop in mid-step. She threw her head back and let out a cackled cry of delight, cut off by a coughing jag. “Monsieur, don’t rush off! I’ll take a picture of you now. For your friend? Look around you! You are standing in front of one of the oldest buildings in Belgium. Look how each statue stares down as if they see you, as if to say ‘I know who you are!’” She gestured at the building across the street. Her eyes grew large, and she pulled herself to her fullest height with menacing speed. Buck jumped backward with surprise. The wet ground caused his shoe to slip and he tripped off to the side before he was able to catch himself.
Something flew past and struck the drag queen with a thud. Buck looked at her stunned expression, and downward at the dagger’s handle jutting out from between her fake breasts. She wavered, swaying before collapsing onto his chest. She was heavy, and Buck struggled to lay her down carefully.
The wig spread out in a puddle like a red halo under her head. She coughed and raised her head, her eyes focused on Buck.
“Three. One. Four,” she croaked out before a gunshot made her body jump.