|About the Book|
Take a mad ride past the event horizon of sanity with the band Babylon, in the final days of the American Empire. First in the must-read occult, myth and fairy-tale laced urban fantasy series, the Fallen Cycle.“Beautiful!” David Mack, renowned sequential artist of Kabuki, Daredevil, Dexter.“Brutal, darkly funny, and, above all, honest.” Powell’s Books Short List.“A progressive fictional universe created by a wickedly talented scribe... Philip K Dick might have company someday...” Brooke Burgess, the Creator of award-winning flash animated graphic novel Broken Saints.“A stick of dynamite strapped to reality.” Scenery Zine, on the musical accompanyment.“The Invisibles meets Fight Club. A counterculture must read.” Underground Reviews.This is an edited, single volume containing what was first serialized as Fallen Nation, 404 Documents and Words of Traitors, as well as 20 black and white reproductions from the concept art sketchbook.Sample:Lilith rubbed the skin off your headstone of a sternum and painted a sad picture of herself in your eyes. We fell in love with that little peep-show projection on the inside of an iris, pictures that amount to nothing more than the thirsty moon over a spot of bloody ground. Those weren’t the nothings we restless sleepwalkers knew, no place no home no song. So we heard her and we followed until she went where we couldnt follow.She went down beyond the mountains and disappeared between the crease of sky and land, like a great eyelid folding shut. No one knows what happened out in the Black Hills, but I imagine she lies buried in a rusty coffin under the stars. And on nights when the desert crickets sing her tune, they say one day she will rise again. On that day, there is no telling the kind of vengeance shell demand of us. Fair is fair.They say when she fell from Heaven she wore a crown of jagged stars that slit the skies throat. They say she loved them all, in the secret corners of their shallow sleep. Strangers, at the last. They say a lot of things. They’re all lies. Everything is already written.