David is a retired funeral director, a drug addict, and a man who knows too much about grief.
For twenty-five years, he has sat across from shattered families in funeral-home arrangement rooms, watching the living reveal themselves beside the dead. He knows how people lie. He knows how they break. He knows what grief sounds like when it has nowhere left to hide.
Then Terry Orloff dies young on a Florida beach, and four damaged men walk into David's funeral home to claim the body of their friend.
Joe, the exhausted nurse trying to keep everyone alive.
Frank, the combat veteran held together by discipline, paranoia, and rage.
Jerry, the sarcastic ex-jail employee hiding his pain behind bad jokes.
Tom, the broken-hearted soldier whose grief may destroy him.
They are addicts, outcasts, survivors, and sinners. None of them are clean. None of them are safe. None of them are monsters.
What begins as a simple county cremation becomes something far more dangerous: an improvised brotherhood built from trauma, drugs, loyalty, violence, humor, and the stubborn human need to be loved anyway. As David is drawn deeper into their world, he begins to see that redemption does not arrive cleanly. Sometimes it comes limping through the door with blood on its hands, bad intentions in its pockets, and one last chance to choose differently.
Raw, darkly funny, and unflinching, Supernova is a novel about addiction, grief, chosen family, moral injury, and the fragile light that survives inside ruined people.