Showing results by author "Steve Vernon" in All Categories

In 1691, the town of Crossfall taught the witch Thessaly how to die. They beat her; they shot her; they hung her - but nothing worked. When they finally tried to bury her alive, Thessaly set the field against them. The first man died as a gust of wind harrowed the meat from his bones. A root, flung like a dirty javelin, cut a second man down. Many more deaths followed. The Preacher Fell impaled the witch upon her very own broom, but she dragged him down into the field to wait for three more centuries.

Bobby Kaye's life story started and ended with an email, and then the monkey dung hit the fan. We're talking blue plague monkeys, tulwar-swinging cab drivers, a ride-on-mower caravan of unbridled mass consumption, and a moon-infatuated, eight-legged story-telling spider god going toe-to-toe-to-toe-to-toe with the merciless, scud-spear wielding Nigerian spam genie - Prince Wanna-Wanna-Wanna!

Meet Lady Macbeth - a high school librarian, ex-assassin, and part-time kelpie, whose mother wanted to name her Hemorrhoid at birth. Now she has to take on a Sea Hag - eight legs of Godzilla-ugly poured into a bucket full of meanness - with the help of a one-woman army named Rhonda, a 200-year-old sea captain, and a hunky lighthouse keeper who won't admit that he's dead as well. Kelpie Dreams is a funny, action-packed, shoot-em-up paranormal romance novel for folks who hate romance novels.

So what happens when Bigfoot, the Trickster Coyote, the ghost of Sam Steele and the long-lost spirit of The Prophet, brother to the mighty Tecumseh and reincarnated in the form of a giant pink flying Winnebago go toe-to-toe with dark supernatural forces in a cross-Canada battle ranging from Cape Breton to Labrador to Thunder Bay? I'm not saying that it is going to be pretty...

Let's face it. About 75 percent of the world is covered in water - and of that water nearly 97 percent of it can be found in the sea. Maritimers will tell you that there is a story for every wave that has ever washed upon the shoreline. Here are seven of them.

Detours are amazing creatures. A detour can cut your existence short or it can lead you down a long road that will linger far into the distant reaches of eternity. These unexpected tangents, which people stumble across nearly every day, will haunt you in a frighteningly familiar fashion. I offer you 18 eerie tales of fantasy, horror, science fiction, and all around strangeness that will take you to the edge of the map and then nudge you just a little bit further.

Olan Walker was first out of the slat truck and he could have slid through one of the slats. That man was nothing but lank. He was as lean as a dog in Lent. He was as lean as hunger poured thinner than a spoon full of prison soup. He looked like he ate nothing but wind and shadow all his life. If there was a king and queen of skinny; a duke of raw bone, an earl of gaunt, and a prince of scrawny - well Olan Walker was the lord high ruler of them all.

Nobody really knew how long the old Funnel mansion had stood empty, waiting up there high on Carpenter's Hill like a child's forgotten lunch box, any more than anybody knew just how long that old cat had squatted in behind the screen of the front porch window. Three young boys are about to find out just exactly what the dark and horrifying secret is behind that cat. Only two of them will survive.

It happened in early September, the time of year when the city does its damndest to remember what heat was, just one more time before winter rocks on in ...

Will has got a secret. He keeps that secret hidden in the field out back behind his house. Sam and Artie will do just whatever Will tells them to do because they know what Will's secret is, and they will do anything to make sure that Will doesn't lose his temper on them.

Everything that you have read about Bigfoot is a lie. Everything that you have heard about Bigfoot is the truth! Enjoy three stories from the files of The Creep Squad - that pack of cryptids, legends, and nondescript rumors who fight crime and misjustice anywhere that you aren't looking. What if all the stories were true? What if Bigfoot really did exist? What if he depended upon people's belief in him for his very existence? What if he needed a job and the only one he was suited for was keeping the other legends in their place?

There is a big old sledding hill not more than two or three good snowballs' worth of distance from our home, just behind Hank Macabee's house. That hill was waiting for me and my brand new toboggan. It's one of those sneak-up kind of hills with a long slow ride down that picks up speed as it goes with a bump-hump at the end that you never see coming. The Christmas tree crashed through Hank Macabee's bay window. The tree stand clattered behind it and bounced with a clank on Hank's half-frozen front lawn. Hank came through the door with a shotgun in hand.

You can smell that long-dying aroma of Autumn in the air. Kids are talking trick or treat and the leaves are already screaming at you in red and yellow and deep golden rust as they prepare for one final parachute down into the dirt. The tombstones are talking amongst themselves and winter is hiding just around the corner. It is the time of the year when people draw around the wood stove and the campfire and whisper stories of death and omens and ghosts and things that don't even have a name.

Hammurabi Road is a dark redneck-noir novella of retribution, backwoods justice, and getting closer to a black bear than was ever dreamed possible. We start off with the eternal triangle - four men ride out in a pick-up truck; three in front and one duct-taped and bound in the back. It is a clear-cut case of Northern Ontario railroad vengeance, served up as cold as a frozen hunting knife. Fans of the movie and television series Fargo are going to love Hammurabi Road.

Just imagine you walk into a cheesy old greasy-spoon diner, the kind that ought to hand out antacid along with a napkin, knife, and fork. You ask the waitress for eggs and bacon, and she brings you a plate with live chicken on it. I mean, feathers and beak and the whole bonanza. Just think about a mix of Kafka and O'Henry and you are somewhere close to the mark.

Texas Jack Page, on the eve of his 48th birthday, emptied his last seven cartons of books, placing them volume by volume across his front door - a one-man human cask of Amontillado interring himself inside a shining silver Airstream trailer sized aluminum tomb of tomes.

Tommy has come home from the city to visit his dad for one last time. He is determined to get to the bottom of all of the secrets that his dad has kept for hidden behind a smokescreen of storytelling and charm. It turns out that some secrets are best left untold.

So how does a kelpie, an ex-assassin high school librarian, Santa Claus, the Flying Dutchman, and the Krampus wind up going toe-to-toe with a Martian Expeditionary Force in a highly unidentifiable flying gravy bowl? Why don't you grab this audiobook and hear for yourself?

A short story involving a Celtic water spirit (the kelpie), an assassin, a librarian, a ghost, and a Santa-mugging street gang - a wild weird paranormal romance shoot-em-up story - written for listeners who hate to listen to romance.

The end of the world - as seen by a teenager. Episode Six marks a new season and a WHOLE new direction for the Flash Virus series. This first episode of the new season is told ENTIRELY from Bigfoot Hanson's point of view - and you're going to see this character in a way that you have NEVER seen him before. Fans of this series are DEFINITELY going to want to pick up this brand new episode. Somebody you like is going to die...