Ace Hawkins and the Wrath of Santa Claus
isbn 1894953509 (paperback)
isbn 1894953542 (ebook)
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Read the book Gary K Wolf calls an "ingenious work of fantasy." Ace Hawkins is an anti-hero to make Van Damme and Stallone blush, and a tough guy who fears none -- not even Chuck Norris. When a rebellion rocks the North Pole to its core, Dictator Claus has no choice but to call in Ace Hawkins to deal with the threat of the nefarious and insane Jack Frost, but Ace's loyalty is the almighty dollar, and he doesn't care about anything else...or does he? From the author of Finding Heroes and Flatheads, Ace Hawkins will delight the black comedic funnybone of any reader for this Christmas, and beyond...
Three figures in heavy white arctic suits stepped out of the tracked sled and started toward the largest of dozens of domes that made up this strange city in the middle of a vast glacial wasteland. The outlying domes were quite large in their own right, most of them averaging around twenty acres inside. The domes had once been painted white and lined with red and green lights. Now they were a dingy grey color, and the factory-domes, with their smoke stacks belching flame and soot into the northern sky, were almost completely black. Several of the domes appeared broken, like monstrous cracked eggs lying half buried in the snow; judging from the smoke still tapering out of their cracks the damage was recent. Despite their size, these outlying structures were dwarfed by the massive central dome which covered several square miles and rose several hundred feet in the air.
A pair of twenty foot tall pillars, crooked at the top, fl anked the heavy metal doors that served as the main entrance to the massive structure. In better years these iron pillars had been striped red and white to look like candy canes. Now the paint had peeled away, revealing the black wrought iron underneath and numerous indentations, marking where bullets had ricocheted off the surface.
Outside the massive doors, just inside the black candy canes, two soldiers in heavy arctic suits stood guard. Behind them lay a pair of tiny one-room guardhouses, with doors much too small for either man to enter. It was difficult to imagine that this place had once been guarded by jolly elves, armed only with a smile.