A rock band, magic, conspiracies, the Dark Web – all the ingredients for a fun read were in place. Sadly, the author has only managed to make those into an unpalatable hash straight out of the pulps.

The main character: a totally super-perfect, misogynist, xenophobic, bigoted Gary Stu vested with every kind of skill on the list, paired with “a bad habit of doing what I want”, who sees fit to pack a concealed Glock for college on the off-chance of having to defend his girlfriend against a – brace yourselves – “medium-build, dark-skinned … head covered by a checkered scarf” terrorist, who ends up “shot … in the face. Twice” by our hero. Yep, it’s that kind of book. I understand there’s even some kind of explanation for the guy’s "Ninja superpowers", however, this did not arrive before I was too disgusted to care anymore about learning the hows and whys.

The rock band. Who does not love a struggling artist? Of course, this lot is not struggling at all, they are just so fabulous, so it’s no surprise they are being offered the bestest contract in all history, their performance being so stellar. Which I guess it has to be to distract their audience from this kind of lyrics:

“Ya do me just fine, You’re like a sweet drink of wine, Ya do me just fine, You‘re like a sweet drink of wine… Because it’s so real, and I have so much feel”

This was when I got “so much feel” the author was pulling my leg. Hard.

The Looks. Ohmygosh the looks. Everybody's merit is being reduced to their looks, even the females cannot help being smitten by each other’s beauty. Example of the very first contact between the band’s female lead and their prospective producer:

"Wow. You’re so beautiful” – “You are adorable. Merci.” She lightly touched Jaz’s cheek and our lead singer stood transfixed”

Luckily, our hero speedily “break(s) up this girl-girl moment” before the pair start French-kissing, or worse.
Incidentally, there’s an actual French character underlining her frenchiness by throwing in the odd gratuitous “oui”, “mais oui, bien sûr” and “tout de suite” (“Parbleu!” and “La femme, ah! La femme!”, as Umberto Eco would have put it).

Like some more snippets?

“I’d never been with a black woman, as far as I knew, but I’ve definitely never been with a one legged one. It struck me, had anyone been with her?”

"If you're expecting redneck cowboys and caballeros, you'll be sadly disappointed. There are newer arrivals though. Headscarf-wearing women. Communist brats. Diversity so diverse it hurts.”

“Bored out of my mind in the long coffee line, I tried to guess how many of the surrounding ladies were lesbians, like counting license plates on a road trip. It was tricky to tell nowadays, Austin being Austin. Unfortunately, with any eye contact, I sensed which way the wind was blowing, and a rigged game isn't much fun. "

"I was wearing one of my favorite t-shirts. On the front it says Stroke a genius. On the reverse: 200 IQ. Sometimes I just can't help myself. Sorry."

No. Just no. It was awful. Overall cringe factor: top notch. Had to bail out at 25 %. ( )