He’s not a detective and he doesn’t give a crap if your spouse is cheating on you. Human and supernatural beings avoid him like the plague because if you get too close he’ll gleefully tell you the time and date of your own demise and that’s before he punches you in the face.
For nearly one hundred years, Tim Reaper (yes, that’s what he calls himself) has been living as a fixer, a rum runner, an enforcer and occasionally, a gumshoe. He hasn’t aged a day because of his habit of borrowing the bodies of the recently deceased. (A convenient trick when you’re on the lam.) Banished to the human world for tinkering with the natural order of life and death, he’s kept himself busy with a peculiar hobby: ending the lives of murderers and serial killers alike.
Except now, the bodies are piling up in Mexico City, Boston and the port city of Halifax. In fact, someone just found a corpse at the shipping terminal and it’s not entirely human. Called on by the Holy See to put an end to the madness, Reaper is about to learn that this particular serial killer has a hate-on for heavenly bodies and even the Supreme Being will pay the bounty if it means saving humanity from the abyss.