"It is a broken road. Hard and sharp. A place where none are forsaken. A place where the demons hold you because no one else will. It is a place of the broken and the bones. In that place, the unsplit man is Lord. On that road, the Man rides alone. Along the path, there are only bones. It is a white masquerade. Puppets bleeding. Failing circles. Marionette pageants. On the path, I danced with wolves. I waltzed with lies. The road was a funeral. So, promise me. Promise that you will lay with me on this road of bones." --The ...
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"It is a broken road. Hard and sharp. A place where none are forsaken. A place where the demons hold you because no one else will. It is a place of the broken and the bones. In that place, the unsplit man is Lord. On that road, the Man rides alone. Along the path, there are only bones. It is a white masquerade. Puppets bleeding. Failing circles. Marionette pageants. On the path, I danced with wolves. I waltzed with lies. The road was a funeral. So, promise me. Promise that you will lay with me on this road of bones." --The Man Xander Crowley is a serial killer. Haunted by a gothic poltergeist in the air named Jocelyn, the soul of a woman he used to love and hopes to love again, Xander befriends and swoons broken women. At the apex of their love, Xander murders the women in hopes that Jocelyn will accept his sacrifice and return to him if only for a night. The wretched terror of it all is that Jocelyn is unpredictable . . . and sinister. Sometimes accepting his offer, most times rejecting it. Driven mad in her echo, Xander confesses his sins to the police in brutal, calculated precision. No detail is spared. In doing so, Xander is not proud nor is he content. He desires punishment in the worst way, seeking an end to his tormented existence beneath Jocelyn's strangling and suffocating, ghastly possessing spirit. As Xander confesses his crimes, his sanity begins to dissolve. The police force, with the help of a teaming psychologist, attempt to understand, define and properly reprimand Xander Crowley for the grisly crimes he committed. All while Xander himself continues to wither away beneath Jocelyn's echo. 'Road of Bones' is not a mystery to be unraveled. The bones are laid bare from the start. The demented beauty of the work lies in the journey, the tragic path we watch Xander suffer along. It reads more like a documentary, a first person account of a monster acting against his will. A story of doom and condemnation from the start. A modern day Frankenstein. And in that, is a far deeper shadow, the blood more sinister. It is a collection of grisly and tormented stories that cannot be shaken off, their visceral blood and graphic detail almost scarred upon the reader. John Huber proves with his second novel that his work has teeth, and if given the opportunity, they will draw blood. And they will take their pound of flesh. PRODUCT CONTAINS: Pervasive graphic violence, gore, sexuality, language, disturbing imagery, intense sequences of terror. Reader discretion is advised.
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