If a 17-year-old boy wrote a book detailing his deepest, darkest fantasies, it would probably read just like Andrew Feder's The Heretic. After all, what young man doesn't want a life like main character, Jerry Fletcher's? By day, Jerry works as a senator in a future version of L.A., drives a convertible Caddy, makes love to his girlfriend (who is, of course, a "hottie") and goes out for Korean with his ex, all in one day (Naturally, the ex is also a hottie). He's a foul-mouthed, take-no-prisoners kind of guy, who's respected by men and women (the former want to be just like him, while the latter line up to bed him).

Given his circumstances in the present, it is perhaps not difficult to believe that Jerry had it going on in a series of past lives as well. In The Heretic, he discovers his late career as a military hero in the army of Alexander the Great. Through a psychic, Jerry regresses back to his former self - Aias, military hero and husband of the beautiful Nefertiti. The remainder of the book consists of Aias telling his children (in great detail) about his prowess both on the battlefield and in the bedroom. In war, Aias conquers all, fighting like a machine to earn Greece the respect it deserves. His amazing combat skills cause the soldiers to wonder if he isn't a God descended from heaven. Predictably, he wins all his battles, never forgetting to give the glory to his buddy Alexander. So humble is the mighty Aias that he even insists his name be kept out of Alexander's journal, preferring to pass his heroics off as belonging to Hercules or other generals.

All of Aias' victories bring him women by the dozens, but he, of course, will have only the greatest beauty by his side - Nefertiti. They marry and have children who revere their father as a hero.

Ahhh ... sounds like any boy's fantasy, right? The problem lies in the fact that The Heretic is just that - a fantasy, not a story. It has no plot, no character development, no original word choice, and no moral. The only thing it has - and it has it in spades - is profanity, crappy dialogue and revolting sex scenes. Perhaps a talented writer could have crafted something worthy out of Feder's idea, but this author gives us only gems like this:

I began to thrust my sword, disembowling their insides before them. Those who stood along their disembowled brethren were in shock. With mercy, I quickly took them out of their shocking misery with a slice and a dice of my sword, allowing their falling beheaded bodies to next amongst the corpses of their companions (77).

To be fair, Feder published The Heretic himself (via AuthorHouse), so perhaps I shouldn't expect too much. Still, my 6-year-old just self-published a picture book (via IlluStory) and it's both more imaginative and better written than this one.

The funny thing is, Andrew Feder's bio makes him sound like a fascinating man, who has done plenty of interesting things. Part of his "education" included studying under psychic Janaeu St. Clair, which is probably where he got the idea of regression as a way to write historical fiction. Although I don't believe in psychic mumbo jumbo, I actually think this device is quite clever. I just wish Feder had put some effort into writing a real story - with a plot, rounded characters, witty dialogue and fresh writing. As is, The Heretic reads like a teenage boy's fantasy, complete with filthy language (Did ancient Greeks really use the F-word in every other sentence?), a hero without weakness, and women who will do anything he pleases. Like all teenage fantasies this one should have stayed where it belonged - safely inside the dreamer's head. Since it didn't, I'm going to do the world a favor and give The Heretic the funeral it deserves - in the bottom of my trash can.

Grade: F