The Long Last Call
by John Skipp
from Leisure
IT'S THE DEGRADEST SHOW ON EARTH!
It's closing time at a backwoods strip club, somewhere in America. Business as usual, until an elegant stranger comes onto the scene: chumming the waters with a briefcase full of cash, and a dark agenda all his own.
Because he is no mere human being. He is a walking repository for all of the anger and hate that men and women feel toward each other. And every scum-soaked dollar he hands out only serves to up the voltage on the war between the sexes. The have and have-nots. The lovers and the haters.
The result is a blood-soaked, horny and horrifying monster-bash - THE DEGRADEST SHOW ON EARTH - that builds to a shocking and soul-stopping grand finale.
The Devil's Advocate (Trilogy of the Blood Curse, Book One)
by Gherbod Fleming
from White Wolf Publishing
The Scream
by John Skipp
from Bantam
Rock 'n' Roll. Hell. Two great tastes that taste great together. Long before Elvis gyrated on the Sullivan Show or the Beatles toiled the smoky red-light bars of Hamburg, music has been sowing the seeds of liberation. Or damnation. With each new generation the edge of rebellion pushed farther. Rhythms quickened. Volume increased. Lyrics coarsened. The rules continued to be broken, until it seemed that there were no rules at all.
And as waves of teens cranked it up and poured it on, parents built walls of accusation to explain their offspring's seeming corruption. Sex and drugs, demon worship and violence are the effects. Music is the cause. Or so the self-styled guardians of morality would have us believe.
Meet The Scream. Just your average everyday mega-cult band. Their music is otherworldly. Their words are disturbing. Their message is unholy. Their fans are legion. And they're not kidding. They're killing. Themselves. Each other. Everyone. Their gospel screams from the lips of babes. Their backbeat has a body count. And their encore is just the warm-up act to madness beyond belief.
It emerged from a war-torn jungle, where insanity was just another word for survival. It arrived in America with an insatiable lust for power and the means to fulfill it. In the amplified roar of arena applause there beats the heart of absolute darkness.
The Light At The End
by John Skipp
from Bantam
An adrenaline-charged tale of unrelenting suspense that sparks with raw and savage energy... The newspapers scream out headlines that spark terror across the city. Ten murders on the New York City subway. Ten grisly crimes that defy all reason -- no pattern, no m.o., no leads for police to pursue. The press dubs the fiend the "Subway Psycho"; the NYPD desperately seeks their quarry before the city erupts in mass hysteria. But they won't find what they're looking for.
Because they all think that the killer is human.
Only a few know the true story -- a story the papers will never print. It is a tale of abject terror and death written in grit and steel... and blood. The tale of a man who vanished into the bowels of the urban earth one night, taken by a creature of unholy evil, then left as a babe abandoned on the doorstep of Hell. Now he is back, driven by twin demons of rage and retribution.
He is unstoppable. And we are all his prey... unless a ragtag band of misfit souls will dare to descend into a world of manmade darkness, where the real and unreal alike dwell in endless shadow. A place where humanity has been left behind, and the horrifying truth will dawn as a madman's chilling vendetta comes to light...
Filled with gripping drama and harrowing doomsday dread, The Light at the End is the book that ushered in a bold new view of humankind's most ancient and ruthless evil; a mesmerizing novel from two acknowledged masters of spellbinding suspense.
The Cleanup
by John Skipp
from Bantam
His name is Billy Rowe. Yesterday he was just another tragically talented loser the city had chewed up and spat back down on the streets. Billy came to New York with dreams of stardom, and found only a nightmare of obscurity. Frustrated and downtrodden, disgusted with his own failure, Billy spends his days living in Bowery squalor, his ambition skittering away like the cockroaches running up his tenement walls. His roommate can't cover the overdue rent. His girlfriend has no more patience for his self-pity. It seems that things can't get any worse.
Until the night Billy witnesses a murder in the street below his window: a young woman, knifed again and again and left to die, her blood gleaming under streetlight's glare. The killer flees into the shadows. And Billy watches, paralyzed with fear, until it's too late to do anything but scream.
When the police come, their contempt is palpable. And when they leave, Billy is ashamed. In a fit of despair, Billy prays for help, for guidance...for a sign.
And like a miracle it comes, as the mysterious stranger named Christopher. Christopher has come with a message: of the power that Billy has, if he will but lay claim to it.
Billy thinks Christopher is crazy...until he realizes that suddenly he feels no pain. Billy can heal the sick, or clean up the mess of his life. Or the mess of the city's savage streets.
Yesterday Billy Rowe was just another nobody. Now he has the Power. Now the city has nothing to fear. Nothing but Billy Rowe...
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