If only you could have seen It,
You might call It……
The Great Mother,
The Lord God Almighty,
A Spirit of transcendence,
Maybe just a light shaft.
A spec of dust blown in from the street.
Whatever It was, the Creator had escaped in a panic.
In a fluster of a bird’s feathers,
With the scent of death on a leopard’s breath,
Just in that moment,
Free from the weight of contradiction,
Written by a human hand.
’The Corleone Christ’
Writing at the intersection of crime, faith, and political power, G.J. Mann explores worlds where institutions fracture, histories are contested, and justice comes at a cost.
This debut novel begins a trilogy that follows the fault lines of modern society — where conspiracy is not theory but lived reality for those caught beneath it.
Drawing on themes of Indigenous resistance, state authority, and spiritual identity, Mann’s work challenges readers to look beyond the surface of events — and question the systems behind them.
GJ Mann
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