Alex and The Gruff (a tale of horror) by C. Sean McGee

The tale of a polite and well-mannered boy named Alex who, after being abducted, develops an incredible bond with an angry and foul mouthed doll called The Gruff who teaches young Alex how to find his voice.

Alex and the gruff (a tale of horror)

When Alex wakes bound in a wooden coffin to manic cursing and abusing, he finds something he’d never imagined having, a true friend. In the days that follow, a small oddly tempered doll called The Gruff will teach Alex how to say no, how to sharpen his claws and how to kill a man. 

And a triangle of deception will leave Alex wondering who the real victim is.

Based on real events, ALex and The Gruff explores the philosophical theme of the effect of the domestication of children through mannerly learning, and poses the premise that 'politeness is the discipline of abuse'.

Genre: FICTION / Horror

Secondary Genre: FICTION / Psychological

Language: English

Keywords: stephen king, clive barker, evil doll, politeness, discipline, pinioning, abuse, kidnapped, revenge

Word Count: 96,280

Sample text:

“Are you going to hurt me?” asked Alex.

The Gruff laughed.

“What’s your name?”

“Alex’ he said.

“Alex, do I look like I’m going to hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“I dunno. I mean you look mean and that and…”

“I’m not gonna hurt you for god’s sake. But I am gonna get us the hell out of here. Somehow.”

The Gruff looked up and examined the roof. Alex looked up with him and followed where he was looking pretending he knew what he was looking for. He didn’t though. He was just so used to doing things that other people did; copying the stuff his brother used to do and having to do the stuff his mother and father wanted him to do.

There was nowhere for them to run. The only exit was through the door and that was locked. And if they did try to break out, The Man would catch them and he’d lock them up again or worse.

Alex started to cry.

“Hey, hey. What the hell did I tell you about crying?”

The Gruff hated crying. He hated the sound of it. He hated the whimpering. He hated the sound of runny noses being sniffled. He hated the appalling bawling. He hated the snorting between tear soaked explanations. He hated the sympathy that it obligated. He hated everything about it

“I hate everything about crying,” he said. “If you have to do it. Be discreet or something. You don’t vomit in front of someone while they’re having supper. Well, do you?”


Book translation status:

The book is available for translation into any language except those listed below:

LanguageStatus
Spanish
Already translated. Translated by Azael Alejandro Carrillo Ochoa
Author review:
Azael was great. He was in constant contact and treated the story as if it were his own. I have the utmost confidence that he took as much, if not more, care than myself in re-telling my story. I highly recommend him.

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