FEET OF CLAY by Mark Posey

A Nun with a Gun. Book 1.0

Mystery Thriller Short Story

More books by Mark Posey
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Hero worship is not just for the masses…

Sister Jacobine has a secret. An incredible gift from God. It is also an incredible curse.

Sister Jacobine is also the Pope’s hitwoman. When Bishop McGinty gets out of hand with the altar boys, Sister Jacobine is sent to Philadelphia to deliver “greetings” from His Holiness.

In Philadelphia, she meets Rachel Rafferty and her world is turned upside-down. Now, her only possible confidante is Rachel’s brother, the Philadelphia Police Detective that has arrested her for murder.

A Nun With A Gun is a series of short stories and novelettes about Sister Jacobine, the Pope’s hitwoman. They are best read in order.

  1. Feet of Clay
  2. A Port in the Storm
  3. Excommunication
  4. Requiem Mass
  5. Den of Lions
  6. The Narrow Gate

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Feet of Clay
Average rating:  
 10 reviews
 by Sally Boulrice
Feet of Clay

the story was very interesting and can't wait to read the rest of the series'
A nun as an assassin seems unreal.

 by Winn R

Matter of fact approach to an old habit of the Vatican, assassination. Historically tended to be heads of state however currently the church pederasts are the preferred object now

 by Wesley Panzer
Nun with a gun!

Intriguing from the start, action to draw the reader in and want to read more. Very well written with care and excitement to draw us in. Love the character Sister Jacobine.

 by Dennis
Feet of clay

Extremely unique and engaging dialogue. I look forward to future books!!

 by RECO

Unique introduction to a great story line that offers many story lines which I look forward to reading ?.

 by Belle
Feet of Clay

Sister Jacobine wow fantastic main character. She deals with her situations with the calmness and experience that speaks of true conviction. Can't wait to read more of her adventures

 by Mary Arnold
Feet of Clay

This nun is the popes “fixer” for unresolvable problems within the church. She has carried a secret for a long time, now she reveals it to detective Rafferty who has arrested her. I’m hooked to know more about her.

 by Naomi
Feet of Clay

I loved Sister Jacobine/ her secret was a doozy/ I won’t spoil the secret/ I will read the rest of the books/ thanks so much for introducing me to Sister Jacobite/ Naomi

 by IngSav
Hooked! Interesting, suspenseful and well written.

A tempting introduction to the intrigue that surrounds a Nun, the main character. She is strong and self-contained but the more we learn about her the more we realise how complex she is.  I like that we get teasers of her emotional state despite her unruffled and calm demeanour.
The story is short but is told in such a succinct way that there is so much shared in the details of the setting, the circumstances and by the characters themselves.
There is a lot of mystery surrounding the Nun and yet a lot is shared in this short novella but there's so much more I want to know....into the next book in the series I go!

 by Kat Z
Sister Jacobine is One Tough Cookie

I was not sure what to expect with this little story about a nun with a gun, but you got me hooked once it became clear that Sister Jacobine was a very talented, very well trained assassin for the Vatican. I found her to be a very likable character so far, and look forward to getting to know her better in later stories.

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The stillness in the sitting room would have been eerie had Alice not sat waiting to kill a man countless times before.

What would he have done differently if he had known today was his last day on earth?

A car pulled up to the curb in front of the brownstone. The headlights shut off and the lone occupant stepped out.

Her left hand moved from the arm of the chair to the butt of the 10mm Tanfoglio Force resting in her lap. The suppressor screwed to the end of the barrel would help the neighbors presume someone had merely slammed a door.

McGinty strode up the walkway to the front door.

Alice could barely think of him as Bishop McGinty, now. His continued dalliances with pre-teen members of congregations in the archdiocese had left His Holiness no alternative.

She remained still. Any movement might attract his attention. He stepped inside, flicked on the foyer light and shut and locked the door.

He turned from the door, took one step into the sitting room, and froze.

She leveled the Tanfoglio at him. “Bishop McGinty.” The title emerged like a swear word.

His gaze swept over her and paused on the black veil with the white band. He swallowed, his jaw sagged, and he licked his lips.

The weakest ones always wept and begged for their lives. Some would try to bargain their way out of trouble. A very few waited defiantly, their false bravado doing them as little good as begging or bargaining.

McGinty surprised her. She could see acceptance on his face, and fear. He knew exactly why she was here and the uselessness of trying to avoid his fate.

She gestured with the Tanfoglio. “I bring you greetings from His Holiness.”

A wet spot appeared on the front of his pants.

Now, it would start. It would also end. She was not in the mood.

He took a hesitant step forward and she squeezed the trigger. The Tanfoglio bucked in her hand, giving off a loud pop despite the suppressor. A 10mm spot of red appeared in the center of McGinty’s forehead.

The back of his skull and half his brain splattered across the wall behind him.

She slid the Tanfoglio into her tan Gucci handbag. She used the bag just for these occasions. It had always done its part.

She rose and knelt beside the body. With the thumb of her right hand she drew a cross on his forehead in blood, the bullet hole at the center.

She bowed her head. “Lord Jesus Christ, Saviour of the world, we pray for your servant, McGinty, and commend him to your mercy. For his sake you came down from heaven; receive him now into the joy of your kingdom. For though he has sinned, he has not denied the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, but has believed in God and has worshiped his Creator. Amen.”

She was glad the requirement of wearing a habit had been done away with years ago. Although she did prefer to wear the traditional black veil with white banding, the long and flowing robes always snagged on the barrel of the gun and the blood stained them. Knives and short broadswords had also been a problem. The habit had often ended up torn, in addition to bloody.

The grey Armani tweed suit she had chosen to wear tonight would not get in the way. Just to be safe, she had worn the suit pants rather than the pencil skirt. Along with the sensible, low-heeled shoes, better for her if she had any chasing or running to do. Although, chasing a target down and shooting them in the street was problematic, no matter the outfit.

She stood, adjusted the lay of the veil across her shoulders, picked up her Gucci bag and stepped out into the night, locking the door behind her.


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