Joe Coffin Season Three
Book Three of the Gripping Joe Coffin Series
Homeless people are disappearing off the streets of Birmingham.
Vampire dogs are stalking the city.
But fresh out of jail, Joe Coffin’s ready to do what he does best; kill some vampires.
Joe Coffin is ready to take back the The Slaughterhouse Mob, but the problem is the club is full of vampires and his dead wife is in charge. Emma Wylde is on the trail of a murderer, but wherever she turns she is faced with another bloodsucker ready to feast on her. The Seven Ghosts are out on the streets, peddling their highly addictive and dangerous drug, The Black Serpent.
Add Stump and Corpse into the mix, along with betrayals and an explosive climax, and you’ve got another blood-soaked, thrilling read in the Joe Coffin series.
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A real bite fest of a book!
Excellently written,great characters, superb storyline with an injection of gallows humour thrown in, was hooked with season1 and had to buy the series, cant put it down.
Well done Mr Preston keep it up.
James E Glover
What a ride!
Ken Preston at his best. Joe Coffin at his finest.
Fast paced, bloody, gory, edge of your seat exciting. Non stop, and heart pounding. Vampire dogs, ancient vampires and a kiddy vampire. What's the world coming to? Brilliantly written.
Bring on Season 4.
Another Joe Coffin page-turner.
This series is a must read for any fan of the non sparkly vampire.
Even if you just enjoy action stories, I would think you'd enjoy these three books. Hopefully with several more coming as time goes by.
So go get a helping of Joe Coffin now.
ROBERT B SCHULTZ
They promised him money. They promised him a position of authority, with the respect due to him. He could see that they had sucked up to him, led him on with their flattery and promises. But still, it had felt good. Even if he could see it for what it was. The thing was, it didn’t really matter what their intentions were, as long as they delivered.
Just like he was about to.
“It’s all set up,” he said. “Coffin’s going to murder the fat prick tomorrow night.”
Jimmy Xian smiled. Took a last pull on his cigarette and dropped the butt into an empty glass. It sizzled in the dregs of lager for a moment and died.
“And the video camera, Mr Mills?” Xian said. “And the files?”
Tom Mills could have leaned across the table and punched Xian in that arrogant, supercilious face right then. Of course, that would have been a deal breaker. Tom kept his hands occupied, gripping the pint glass, eyes flicking around the crowded pub.