Showing results by author "Steve Vernon" in All Categories

Welcome to the hard streets. These are four of the nastiest stories I have ever written: "Leftovers", "Statistic", "Soul Survivor", and "Dopple Dribble".

This isn't John Wayne. Lone Star is just a beer. Forget about the Alamo. Here are a trio of Texas tales of terror spun from the fevered brain of a nightmare-riding cowboy.

"There's things out there that you ain't dreamed of. Like back-from-the-dead mountain men, green ghost mountain spirits, carrion stallion, time-traveling mad scientists and zombified buffalo... just for starters." This weird western novella starts at a gallop and gathers momentum faster than a stampeding avalanche. You will never look at a severed head the same way again.

There are superheroes, and then there is Captain Nothing - ready to crack knuckles and break heads - no matter what the cost. Here are five truly unforgettable stories - three of them never seen or heard before - plus a behind-the-scenes afterword and a sneak preview of Apocalypse Nothing, Steve Vernon's upcoming Captain Nothing novella.

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.

"Leave Luther's body right where we flung him," Bates said. "You aren't burying him today." After Sally Mae Webster phoned me up to tell me that my Korean War buddy Luther Webster had been shot and killed by the Bates brothers, I knew that I wasn't going to stop until I had righted that wrong. I wondered just how many graves I was going to have to dig today.

So you think you know all about superheroes? Those guys in the capes and the lightly starched spandex speedoes? Leaping tall buildings and always getting the girl? You don't know nothing. Join Steve Vernon, Nova Scotia's hardest working horror writer, as he takes you into the world of Captain Nothing. It's a world without hope, a world that is as cold and dark as a landlord's heart, three days after the rent is due. It's a world that could give the Batman a case of the squirming night fears.

Lucas Sawyer and his wife, Tamsen, find themselves marooned in the heart of a mid-19th century wilderness forest. They are rescued by Jonah Duvall, a mysterious woodsman abiding in this strange valley with his wife, Jezebel, and thier son, Cord. Brooding over all stands the Devil Tree - a huge evil jackpine that has summoned them to this valley to feed upon their collective emotions and their unnatural offspring. Part earth spirit, part elder demon - the tree is farming them.

His name was Adam Kyler. He had eyes as black as licorice jujubes and a spit curl hooked across his forehead that reminded me of a young Superman. He was nine years old. It wasn't his fault he was standing in the alley, but I shot him just the same.... Dopple Dribble is a story of revenge from beyond the grave and I guarantee you without a shadow of a doubt that after you hear this story, the very next time that you hear the sound of some kid walking down the sidewalk under the streetlights dribbling a basketball you are going to spend the rest of the night scared stiff.

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.

When Daddy put Granny out on the hill to die he thought that was that - but Daddy had another think coming to him. This is a short story of country witchcraft - just like it says in the subtitle. If you want to read something longer you REALLY ought to hunt up my novel Tatterdemon.

The story of a young farmer, a wishing ring, and a fairy named Queen Maab. This is old school fairytale telling at its very finest.

It happened just yesterday or perhaps the day before. The bombs were dropped. No one knew why. Whatever the reason, due diligence was undoubtedly done and all aspects were carefully considered. Certainly the motion was passed around the Senate a time or two. After all, an election was coming. Every vestige of civilization was blown away, save for a few stubborn traces barnacled along the grim fringes of existence. Like say, maybe the Maritimes....

Some stories tiptoe up and whisper in your ear - all sweetness and gumdrops and happy-ever-after-after-there-you-go. Then, there are the weird ones. We're talking talking-chickens, blue plague spam monkeys, tug boats of unbridled and fetid fecundity, tulwar-swinging cab drivers, malls that maul you, gnawing on screwdrivers and jig-lining elder gods coming at you faster than a ride-on mow-down massacre mower shopping cart caravan. This is a collection for the seriously messed up minds of all you listeners who have grown tired of the trite detritus of day-to-day storytelling.

Here it is. The whole entire story of the Book of Genesis as told to you by the world's oldest storyteller, Uncle Bob. If you think you know the truth behind the Bible Stories you really ought to pick up a copy of this book. If you are one of those folks who thinks that it is bad manners to giggle a little in church - well, you might want to take a good listen to the sample before you go throwing down any of your hard-earned money. This isn't exactly a solemn retelling of the Bible. In fact, I guarantee a giggle or two along the way. The fact is this is the story of the Book of Genesis as retold by a country gentleman who read the Bible a couple of times and is doing his level best to retell it in his own words.

“I hate cats more than any on the planet,” Grandpa always told us. “A dog you can take hunting and a moose you can shoot, but a cat only gets in the way and barfs on your carpet in the nighttime, most usually in the very spot that you step on first thing in the morning with your bare feet - and then you are left walking around the whole day long smelling of cat-barfed-on-footprints.”

It started out as a simple drive down a country road. Oh sure, Hillman was thinking about suicide. Oh sure, the dead woman is in his back seat was goading him on. What was the point? Why bother living? Who am I? It turns out Coyote has something to say about that. Coyote...and a troll.

This is the final book of the trilogy - a fat monstrous volume of pure undiluted scarecrow terror.

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!