Felix Castor

Felix Castor is a freelance exorcist, and London is his stamping ground. At a time when the supernatural world is in upheaval and spilling over into the mundane reality of the living, his skills have never been more in demand. A good exorcist can charge what he likes - and enjoy a hell of a lifestyle - but there's a risk: sooner or later he's going to take on a spirit that's too strong for him. After a year spent in 'retirement', Castor is reluctantly drawn back to the life he rejected and accepts a seemingly simple exorcism case - just to pay the bills, you understand.

Castor has reluctantly returned to exorcism after the case of the Bonnington Archive ghost convinced him that he really can do some good with his abilities ('good', of course, being a relative term when dealing with the undead). But his friend Rafi is still possessed; the succubus Ajulutsikael (Juliet to her friends) still technically has a contract on him; and he's still - let's not beat around the bush - dirt poor....

Before he died, Castor's fellow exorcist John Gittings made several calls asking for help, and if Castor had answered them, John might still be alive. So when a smooth-talking lawyer comes out of nowhere to claim the remains, Castor owes it to John's unhappy ghost and even more unhappy widow to help out. If only life were that simple. A brutal murder in King's Cross bears all the hallmarks of an American serial killer supposedly 40 years dead, and it takes more good sense than Castor possesses not to get involved. 

Old ghosts of different kinds come back to haunt Fix in the fourth gripping Felix Castor novel. Names and faces he thought he'd left behind in Liverpool resurface in London, bringing Castor far more trouble than he'd anticipated. Childhood memories, family traumas, sins old and new, and a council estate that was meant to be a modern utopia until it turned into something like hell... These are just some of the sticks life uses to beat Felix Castor with as things go from bad to worse for London's favourite freelance exorcist.

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but if you ask Castor he'll tell you there's quite a bit of arrogance and reckless stupidity lining the streets as well. And he should know. There's only so many times you can play both sides against the middle and get away with it. Now, the inevitable moment of crisis has arrived and it's left Castor with blood on his hands. Well, not his hands, you understand; it's always someone else who pays the bill: friends, acquaintances, bystanders.