Overview

Body-jacking a legendary assassin when I’m running on fumes? What could possibly go wrong? After my recent misadventures, I’m not so much broken as ruined—a hollowed-out shell with too much rage and not enough time. But the trail of those who betrayed me is growing cold, and if I want answers, I need to move. Now. Problem is, the path leads to Faerie. And no one gets through unless they’re Fae. Which leaves me with one bad option: go toe-to-toe with the mercenary assassin whose name is spoken in terrified whispers across centuries. The Jack of Plate. Half-Marred Jack himself. The one who wiped the floor with me last time. He may be more than a monster. But I’m less than whole. Survival? Let’s just say it’s... not looking great. imPerfect Fae is the third book in The imPerfect Cathar series, a darkly funny supernatural suspense mystery following a trio of immortal heretics in the south of France. Contains strong language, violence, and highly questionable choices. ___________________________________________________________________ Praise for The imPerfect Cathar Series: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ This third one may be the best one yet. The drama is high, the fantasy is, well, fantastic. ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ A comedy. A tragedy. An unforgettable and penetrating work of art. ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ The story is exciting, solidly plotted, and full of surprises. ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Dark, enthralling and wildly inventive. ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ The story is a masterpiece of drama, action, magic, history and humor. ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Nonstop action and some of the most difficult/impossible situations.

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9781036710767

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C.N. Rowan (“Call me C.N., Mr. Rowan was my father”) is the Award-winning author of the imPerfect Cathar series. It’s been a strange, unbelievable journey to arrive at the point where these books are going to be released into the wild, like rare, near-extinct animals being returned to their natural habitat, already wondering where they’re going to nick cigarettes from on the plains of Africa, the way they used to from the zookeeper’s overalls. Rowan came originally from Leicester, England. Somehow escaping its terrible, terrible clutches (only joking, he’s a proud Midlander really), he has wound up living in the South-West of France for his sins. Only, not for his sins. Otherwise, he’d have ended up living somewhere really dreadful. Like Leicester. (Again – joking, he really does love Leicester. He knows Leicester can take a joke. Unlike some of those other cities. Looking at you, Slough.) With multiple weird strings to his bow, all of which are made of tooth-floss and liable to snap if you tried to use them to do anything as adventurous as shooting an arrow, he’s done all sorts of odd things, from running a hiphop record label (including featuring himself as rapper) to hustling disability living aids on the mean streets of Syston. He’s particularly proud of the work he’s done managing and recording several French hiphop acts, and is currently awaiting confirmation of wild rumours he might get a Gold Disc for a song he recorded and mixed.

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