From the Back Cover "Genres collide in this ambitious first novel from William G. Davis. Imagine Dirty Harry Callahan making his day in the Satanic shadows of the Sunshine State. Cops, cults, cryonics, corruption, conspiracy, carnage: PAGAN MOON packs mystery, suspense, police procedural and the supernatural into one tough punch." (Douglas E. Winter, author of RUN) Product Description Meet Mike Gage, an ex-cop turned P.I. with a score to settle. He's been hunting those who murdered his lover. Now he's got a beautiful client who's been targeted by the same satanic cult that Gage believes killed his girl. But their plans for Mike's client are more bizarre and terrifying than their ancient sacrificial rituals. Battling the embodiment of evil, Gage challenges a power that could not only take his life, but his very soul. Set in the sunshine, opulence and decadence of Palm Beach, "...PAGAN MOON packs mystery,suspense, police procedural and the supernatural into one tough punch." (Douglas E. Winter, award winning editor and author) Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. She wasn't the first corpse I'd seen, but her murder would haunt me. A naked female floated face down in the West Palm Canal, my first dead civilian. "Was checkin' the area for poachers," the game warden said, his khaki shirt pitted from the heavy heat. "Saw the buzzards hoverin'." Responding to dispatch's call, I'd seen them, too. Orbiting lazily against a cloudy sky, the winged scavengers eyed their target. We were out in the Glades, twenty miles from nowhere, and the tight, silent air signaled rain. Staring down at her from the embankment, I said, "You have something we can pull her in with?" "Got a boat hook over here," the warden said, and sauntered over to his green four by four. Arms outstretched, she floated in the murky water, auburn hair glistening in the morning sunlight. Remember details. They had drilled that into me at the academy. No signs of violence on her backside, she had petite hips, no moles, tattoos, or birth marks. She couldn't have been there long. The scavengers had yet to have their way with her. "Here y'are..." The warden handed me an eight-foot pole, a metal gaff on its end. I stared at him. My grizzled companion spit a brown stain into the sandy soil and shrugged. "S'your job, ain't it?" he said with a tobacco-stained grin. "Guess so." I turned and stretched out the pole. Her body was too far away. "Hold on to me," I said, edging my foot over the embankment. The warden grasped my left arm, while I reached out with my right, extending the gaff. The long shaft wavered, dancing about awkwardly. It caught her armpit, and I gave a gentle tug. Her body bobbed like a cork, and I nudged it toward me, hoping not to tear flesh. The corpse had a ripeness like the dead I'd seen in combat. A familiar sensation gripped me, my gut churning, a tightness in my throat. Her limp arm drifted amidst the shoreline reeds. "Going to need some help," I said. "Lucky no gators got her yet. All we'd've found is pieces." "Don't remind me." Grabbing one of her arms, my leg sank knee deep into the muddy bank. The warden reached down and grabbed her other arm. "Easy now. Let's get her up here," I said. "Little thing, ain't she?" he said. "Damned if I know what's goin' on around here." "Huh?""Found another one `bout eighteen months ago out near Belle Glade," the warden said. "In the canal, too. Young, like this one." I was just a rookie, too green to have heard about it. "Got devil worshippers out here," he said. "Find strange things sometimes. Animal carcasses, circles drawn in the ground. Might be bored cuttin' up critters" I gave him a long look as we dragged the body up the bank, laid her face down amidst the sawgrass, and gently stretched out her slender arms. "Don't touch a thing," I said. "Got to make sure homicide and the crime lab are on their way." "I know the drill, sonny." I sprinted back to my cruiser feeling a sick