By John Shirley

A flesh-and-soul-devouring habit runs rampant throughout the darkish playground of the Hollywood elite
Welcome to l. a., where every habit is encouraged. . . .
suffering Hollywood screenwriter Tom Prentice can hardly ever think that the emaciated and mutilated corpse mendacity at the morgue slab was his ex-wife. Then his roommate’s lacking brother turns up in an area clinic having sliced open his personal chest and legs for a few ill, inexplicable cause. In Oakland, the Reverend Garner, a getting better addict, leaves his ministry looking for his teenage daughter, who used to be final visible within the corporation of her ghoulish kidnapper. And the l. a. police are in the meantime baffled of their hunt for the elusive “Wetbones” serial killer who leaves not anything of his sufferers in the back of other than a moist, grisly pile of bones.
even though Tom, the reverend, and the LAPD are on separate quests for solutions, they're all being led into the darkest shadows of Hollywood, the place the debauchery by no means ceases and enjoyment is a drug that devours human flesh, blood, and sanity. however the precise resource of the all-consuming dependancy is the main frightening revelation of all, for it isn't of this rational Earth.
From overseas Horror Guild Award–winning writer John Shirley, the acclaimed “splatterpunk” vintage Wetbones combines the mammoth inventiveness of H. P. Lovecraft with the beautiful way over Clive Barker. A real masterwork of contemporary terror, it’s decidedly not for the faint of heart.

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He used to be caught for awhile at the back of a double trailer semi-truck emblazoned Miracle Merchandizing. He knew what that used to be, he’d obvious anything approximately it at the solid Morning exhibit. A enterprise that really good in “lightning manufacture”, in a single day supply of sizzling media-merchandizing items. tremendous funds in Bart Simpson dolls. prior to that, Garfield the Cat keychains—some of the autos round him nonetheless had the filled sketch cat caught to their home windows attempting to claw its method out, very humorous. Now there has been a brand new comic strip sensation, a puppy named Chomper. And that truck trailer blockading his approach was once most likely stuffed to the gills with Chomper dolls, Chomper key chains, Chomper posters, Chomper chewing gum. Garner needed to look for his little lady during this unending sea of irrelevancy and indifference and preoccupied humans and deteriorating areas. this can be loopy, this is often hopeless… no longer unavoidably, Garner instructed himself. He’d been at the streets himself for twelve years. A crank addict, then a downer addict and alcoholic. And there have been how one can locate humans, down close to the road point. If the man used to be conserving Constance a few type of prisoner it'd be that he’d need to disguise himself and her in yes components of city the place he may escape with it extra simply. And if Garner was once correct the son of a whinge could visit L. A. the place you may get an underage woman into porn, name her “barely felony” whilst she wasn’t in any respect. Line up the ifs like toy infantrymen, circulate them round the method you will want, try and make your self believe greater. It’s nonetheless simply fiddling with ifs. It’s larger than doing not anything. He sought after a drink. If ever he had a cause to drink, he had one now. How lengthy had it been? what number years? He was once owed a drink. He laughed at himself, bitterly, and shook his head. Mentally replaced the topic. consider Constance had long gone voluntarily. Who knew needless to say what went on in her head? there has been much more to her than the California woman within the pump hairdo and the ankle bracelets and a better curiosity in staring at Dynasty reruns than in interpreting. There needed to be a lot more below the outside. And in attempting to provide Constance “her house” for all time he had perhaps misplaced contact together with her thoroughly. They’d talked, they hung out jointly, yet in recent years it have been superficial. Like she didn’t have something to speak about. the obvious vanity of the woman was once most likely only a results of her being undefined, with the entire stresses of eager to be cherished. Garner, himself, in highschool, were the college nonconformist, had labored strenuously on no longer being loved. have been borderline pathological in his insistence on autonomy. Constance desired to belong and in his eyes it had appeared like shallow, kneejerk conformity. fairly, he informed himself now, it was once simply fit human nature—which used to be anything the misfit in Garner used to be by no means pleased with. He ached, pondering it. He’d misplaced her. It was once effortless to hate the bastard who’d taken her. It felt higher to put all of it at the prick within the Porsche. No. She couldn’t have long past off with him voluntarily.

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