In the Wake of Golgotha braids the crucifixion story with a dark, present day New York crime narrative. Judas and Pilate walk the earth again as Jude Issachar, a social worker and literature instructor with a secret habit of controlled self-hanging, and Peter Pheiffer, a corporate lawyer drifting into a death penalty case that begins to wake an old guilt he cannot name. Around them moves Balthazar Bedrossian, an MRI tech who turns into a crucifixion-obsessed serial killer and leaves three men nailed to crosses in a Chinatown basement, with a bloody message that echoes words spoken on Calvary. The book moves between Golgotha, courtrooms, shelters, subways, and art museums. It treats time like a loop rather than a line. The result is a theological thriller about responsibility, addiction, justice, and the long reach of one moment on a hill.

The prose is lush and sensory, full of heat, dust, blood, and cramped city air, then suddenly snaps into something clipped and almost conversational. I liked that swing. It kept me slightly off balance, in a good way, and it fit a story where characters feel unmoored from their own lives. At times, the sentences pile up, and the metaphors jostle for space, and I caught myself rereading a passage not because I missed a plot point, but because the language had become thick and crowded. When the book slows down and lets a simple image stand alone, like the quiet of a homeless shelter after breakfast or the tap of a condemned man’s bare feet, it lands very hard.

The ideas in this novel gave me a lot to think about. The reincarnation of Judas, fully aware of his past betrayal, turns guilt into a chronic condition rather than a single act, and I felt the weight of that on Jude’s shoulders every time he touched his neck. Peter’s arc hit me in a different way. He walks around convinced he is an ordinary guy who chose corporate comfort, then finds himself face to face with a killer who recreates crucifixion while a hidden past claws its way into the light. That mix of legal procedure, spiritual dread, and moral confusion made the courtroom scenes genuinely tense for me, even before any supernatural hints came in. The book obsesses over punishment and mercy, over how a single choice repeats through history, and it keeps asking whether anyone can ever really start fresh. I finished sections feeling uneasy, but also weirdly moved, like I had been invited into a long argument between God, the devil, and everybody who ever stood between them.

In the Wake of Golgotha is not a casual beach read. It leans into graphic violence, addiction, death row procedure, and heavy spiritual questions, and it rarely lets the reader off the hook. I would recommend it to people who like literary crime fiction that has a strong theological spine, to readers who enjoy novels that play with myth and scripture, and to anyone willing to sit with messy questions about blame and forgiveness. If you are up for a dark, ambitious story that blends ancient sorrow with modern city grit, I think it is worth your time.

Pages: 354 | ASIN: B0FY3WCZWR