New Haven detective William Shute is having a bad day, one which begins in divorce court, then goes downhill from there.
Investigating the death of a well-to-do man in one of the city’s sleazier no-tell motels, Shute discovers that not only was the victim a bigwig for the ultra conservative religious group, the Sons of God (60,000 members of which are about to descend upon New Haven for a pray-in at the Yale Bowl) . . . but he wasn’t a victim after all.
Shute, however, can convince no one that the prostitute wanted for the killing, was in fact only protecting herself. And when other members of the Sons Of God meet similar bloody ends, it becomes a race against the clock to find the girl. Shute wants to save her . . . everyone else wants to put her away.
Exploring the worlds of religious hypocrisy, internet prostitution, and made-for-order porn, while dreaming he just had the guts to strap back on his old Fender Tele to play some rock n’ roll, Shute discovers secrets about himself and the city that he never wanted or needed to know. But once those doors are open, there’s no turning back . . .