Perfect reading for Valentine's Day OR Halloween!
Love is one of those words that people like to throw around – but sometimes love can be one of the meanest, nastiest, and weirdest games in town.
Grab a copy of BAD LOVE and enjoy nine of the strangest love stories that you have ever read.
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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 cat thinks I'm pretty cool, too.
Brand new release
Change of Pace
Forty year old white men just shouldn’t try to rap.
It was a crying shame that nobody told the house band that before they slid into their third attempt of the evening.
Malcolm hated rap. It was always the same damn beat and the same damn lyrics. How many times could you find a rhyme with “pussy”?
The band didn’t help matters. A quartet of three fat balding country crooners along with a lead singer that they’d undoubtedly found in the wreckage of a condemned piano bar. The four of them stood there in their spandex and pink lame dusters, vainly struggling to morph themselves into the twenty-first century.
Malcolm tried his best to get used to it, willing his ears to close up. It didn’t help or matter. The band was the least of Malcolm’s problems.
The problem was Maria.
“Women change,” Malcolm said. “That’s the hell of it. You think you’ve got things figured out and they go and change on you.”
“The old missionary isn’t working for you any more, eh?” Seymour said.
“It isn’t that. It’s her. She’s changed. What worked before just isn’t working now. No sir, it isn’t that at all.”
Seymour shrugged and grinned.
“I dunno, Malcolm,” he said. “It sounds like that to me. Have you tried ginseng?”
Malcolm had expected this. Seymour was a holistic healer this year, or at least that’s what he called himself. Last year he’d been a cab driver. The year before he had worked in a 1-900 porno call center.
Seymour liked change.
| Language | Status |
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Italian
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Marta Leoni
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Beatriz Cavicchia
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Patricia Pujadas
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