"A western that reads like a cross between Lonesome Dove and Twin Peaks."
Bass Clayton is a bounty killer turned professional drunkard. Silver Grimes is the man who inadvertently turned Bass Clayton into a drunk - after Bass accidentally shot Silver's arm off with an eight gauge shotgun.
Sally Jezebel has a secret that she is keeping from both of them.
Their lives turn when Newt Gallagher came riding into Willy Jake's bar on top of Pritcher Targate's prize sow.
You got to ask yourself - just how far one man will go?
WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT STEVE VERNON
"The genre needs new blood and Steve Vernon is quite a transfusion." -Edward Lee, author of FLESH GOTHIC and CITY INFERNAL
"If Harlan Ellison, Richard Matheson and Robert Bloch had a three-way sex romp in a hot tub, and then a team of scientists came in and filtered out the water and mixed the leftover DNA into a test tube, the resulting genetic experiment would most likely grow up into Steve Vernon." - Bookgasm
"Steve Vernon is something of an anomaly in the world of horror literature. He's one of the freshest new voices in the genre although his career has spanned twenty years. Writing with a rare swagger and confidence, Steve Vernon can lead his readers through an entire gamut of emotions from outright fear and repulsion to pity and laughter." - Cemetery Dance
"Armed with a bizarre sense of humor, a huge amount of originality, a flair for taking risks and a strong grasp of characterization - Steve's got the chops for sure." - Dark Discoveries
"Steve Vernon was born to write. He's the real deal and we're lucky to have him." - Richard Chizmar
My Mom thinks I'm pretty cool, too.
Steady sales.
Chapter 1 – Nothing beats the crowd-clearing pattern of a well-made eight gauge shotgun blast
Bass Clayton stared up at the big yellow moon and frowned thoughtfully.
That moon looked way too damn much like an eye to him. He wondered if he could reach up and stick his thumb into that big yellow moon-eye. At the very least he ought to be able to shoot it the hell out of his existence.
Bass’s Daddy used to say that God looked down on the badness men got up to through a big old spy glass in the moon. Bass figured that God shouldn’t look that hard. What goes on down here in the dirt was really none of God’s business.
Something flew close by overhead.
Bass heard the flutter of wings.
He shivered a little even though it was most likely nothing but a night owl.
It wasn’t likely to be anything else that he could imagine.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
|
Italian
|
Already translated.
Translated by Oscar Romano
|
|
Portuguese
|
Translation in progress.
Translated by Helena Hartwig
|
|
Spanish
|
Already translated.
Translated by Stuard Araya
|
