Think of it. Nary a wizard, hobbit, or vampire. Not even a talking dragon. What a burn. But herein waits ambrosia for the lover of great prose and fecund imagination. Everything, dude, doesn't have to be about questing pubescent loner-heroes. So drop that skateboard, put down that lightsaber and . . . emigrate. Then text your friends and tell 'em all who set you straight.
Excerpt from CANYON KILLER:
Half-memories swirl like falling leaves: a jogger . . . a wandering bard . . . a young photographer. Victims mangled and mutilated. Tension razzles my nervous system in little electric waves. Dirty whites. Have they found the old man yet—the bills are burning in my pockets. Wolf down the coffee, ignore the pain. Too paranoid to order a refill. But I’ll have to do some more caffeine; anything that will help me stay awake.
Dawn is breaki...