Excerpt II

Here’s a second excerpt for anyone who is interested. The release is still set for May 10 and we got the ISBN number today.

-Adam

* * *

Christmas that year was unseasonably warm. It had been two weeks since her little sister found Betty, when I slipped the rope around my foster mother’s neck and kicked the chair she used to tie me to out from under her.

The local paper had called it the “start of an epidemic.”

I remember her biting her tongue in two when the rope tightened. I remember the sound of her house slipper falling off her foot and smacking the concrete floor. I remember her eyes bulging out from their sockets and the windows behind them drawing dark like curtains. Exploding colors of synapses and loss of circulation. All those years she had choked me, now it was her fucking turn. The feel of that rope cutting her off from the world, as her mind separated from her flailing. She pissed blood and shit herself.

That final hush is the same as the one you’re born with. We’re brought into this world with that hush, that last moment of peace before the screaming starts.

I remember the hard-on forming at the thought of my dead mother, toes pointing at the floor. It was still there when the paramedics came to cut her down.

* * *

Jack awoke that night after dreaming of Heather’s performance. He had thought of his foster mother when he looked into her eyes and heard the dogs. She had Melanie Sanders’ eyes.

* * *

I passed out after my mother spit her last breath. First the paramedics showed up. Then the neighbors. Everyone assumed I found her that way. Everyone was polite enough not to ask about my hard-on.

I remember the taste of cinnamon chewing gum in my mouth. The paramedic must have been chewing it. It’s the odium that brought me back to life from a tunnel of what should have been guilt. I didn’t see any light, but I wanted to go towards it just the same.

* * *

After years of mediocrity, Jack felt like he had truly made something of himself in the film business. Sure, there were no credits, but the money was starting to roll in and he was creating something real.

Those little things about his foster mother, he would cherish them forever. Force them through in every new project. Like how she used to make the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and would take Jack to the park because his father was too busy. How she used to clip off the tips of the cherry flavored freezer pops. How she used to come into his bedroom while he slept and gag him before she sodomized him with a wire coat hanger.

She always said I deserved to feel the pain she felt.

Dread Central Review

Below is the Dread Central review for “Snuff.” As soon as it’s up on their site I’ll link to it in the “Reviews” section of this page.

-Adam

* * *

The gun went off and Wendy’s mouth went slack as she fell backward onto a dirty aquarium with sickly tropical fish inside. Glass and saltwater went everywhere. Her baby never took a breath outside the womb.

“So much for a woman’s right to choose,” Mikey dropped a wallet, his face blank under the mask-

This is a line from “Snuff,” the beginning to one of the most terrifying novels I have ever read, and probably the most incredible story I’ve ever read. Those who complain about movies such as Hostel and American Psycho for the torture, porn and raunchiness need to stop reading this review now. You will not like this book at all. Those of you who absorb this sort of thing, be prepared, I have yet to read something this macabre in true literary form.

When an out-of-work actor with a penchant for ultra-violent sex teams up with an amateur pornographer, the result is a lucrative business filled with unimaginable horrors.

Only when things take an incestuous turn, does Jack Sanders learn the dangers of the snuff film business. The mutilated bodies turning up across California are nothing compared to the revenge-driven imagination of a victim’s father.

Bodily fluids splatter the pages of “Snuff” as glimpses of Jack’s abusive childhood and shattered dreams build up to an unforgettable climax.

Brace yourself for an unapologetic experiment in brutality

And yes folks. This book is brutal. This book is disgusting. This book is definitely controversial to say the least. Those who complain about it being vulgar, vile, or horrific… that’s part of the story, and not to embrace it means you miss out on something extraordinary.

Ever since then, I’ve tried to live in freedom, but it’s been a lie up until now. We all have to pay taxes, fulfill corporate-created needs and answer to our instilled conscience. We read the papers, feign outrage and fuck on our anniversaries.

If everyone in the world committed suicide, where would all the politicians go and what would be left to own?

“Snuff” is a different book as well, because the countless horror novels being churned out are usually always the same. The subject matter in the book could really happen, and that is to me, the makings of a perfect story in the overly saturated vampire, zombie filled genre. Even if their premise seems different in most of these books, they are nothing more than a complex shroud of misery for the reader, overly clichéd (this has been done before drivel). Vampires for example are just humdrum anymore. And it’s hard to scare the reader today in this welcoming society of our not so polite future.

“Snuff” scared me.

The book is not meant to be scary, and that’s the thing that makes it so enchanting. Underneath the visceral alpha male sexuality, and extreme gore, there is a pure innocence of two men troubled. Jack Sanders is an out of work actor who becomes a vicious rapist killer, or maybe really always has been, under the severity of his incestuous past. In the book, you read about his attempts at becoming something greater. And one can only hope to be something miniscule after being savagely molested by his mother. His partner, Mikey, becomes enthralled by Jack’s endeavors. They begin killing a lot of girls for money. But what works in this book, that didn’t do it so well in Hostel, is that there is an actual story to be told. As sinister as Jack is, you can’t help but feel sorry for him. The characters are completely immersive and none are the all-too-well-known clichés. Only once you think you know where things are going are you embarrassed by how wrong you’ve become. The hunters soon become the hunted, which is another wonderful weaving of plots in Snuff. It’s done delicate and well and fast paced counter balancing the extreme and brutal gore. One girl gets raped with dry ice. Another has cleaning chemicals dumped into her exposed brain and still she is raped. Even the father of one victim becomes more disturbing then the two lead killers in the book, which is something I’m finding less and less in novels of today. Too many books follow the same scope of structure in their defined genre. Snuff, surprisingly doesn’t. What I thought was to be another torture porn rip off turned out to be the best read in months.

The book makes some pretty wild twists and turns and some of the rape scenes make you nauseated. I won’t spoil it for the readers, but there are new and ingenious ways that people are killed in this book. I can’t imagine any woman being able to finish it, and I can’t imagine anyone who meets Mr. Enck or Mr. Huber in person would be able to shake their hands after writing this novel.

Except me. I would be honored to shake their hands. They have actually written something scary. That’s a hard thing to do anymore.

Dread Central-

“Snuff” snippets pt. I

Here goes kids…a first glimpse at “Snuff.” I’ll be posting a few more snippets up here over the next few weeks until the book’s May 10 release. Let us know what you think.

-Adam

* * *

With the sun now coming in through the picture windows of the living room, Jack squinted his eyes, trying to delay the onset of the day ahead. Another day of waiting. Another bit part and condescending casting directors, but surgical equipment and top shelf liquor weren’t free. Keeping up an image cost money.

There are still a few hours before the grind, still time to take one step closer.

The cries from the other room had died down. “I Don’t Like Mondays” would have to wait. She would be saved, freed from the ingrained images and societal expectations. Saved from her parents’ doting and hopes. In a few more hours, they would never have to worry again.

Jack could hear rumblings from whatever Italian exploitation flick was on loop on the TV as he cracked the door. She was on her side, arms handcuffed behind her back, a sliver of her twat poking out from the side of her panties. He’d had to cut off her designer jeans last night because they were snagged on a shard of steel from the door. It just made it easier today.

She half grunted as he lifted her up, fingering the metal blade and pulling the makeshift blindfold up from her left eye. The razor edge of it was halfway behind her eye before she screamed and the blade hit the optic nerve. One down. By the time her second eye was out, Jack’s hard-on was back.

After removing what remained of her tattered clothes, Jack flipped the TV over to a cable cooking show before tracing the blade down the small of her back – her ID said her name was Samantha, 19 years old. By now she could barely groan, and when the blade cut slowly across her asshole nothing registered. Just to be safe, Jack had crushed her windpipe, making sure the neighbors couldn’t hear. Making sure not one judgmental word would cross her dried, cracking lips.

This one’s not a virgin.

That much was obvious as he forced a finger up her from behind. Too loose, even dry. Using the blood from her face as lubricant, two of Jack’s finger went into Sam’s asshole with some resistance. He wanted to be the first. Finally, a whimper out of the bitch.

As he forced his cock inside her, Jack looked up at the TV. “30 Minute Meals.” It took Rachel Ray 30 minutes. It only took him eight.

With his hands around her throat, Sam gave up without a fight just before he came.

There’s something to be said for a girl dying on your cock. All her muscles clenching up, shit and blood forcing its way out, it gives you a feeling of accomplishment. Identity.

* * *

Pre-orders

The tentative release date for “Snuff” is May 10.

Once released, the book will be available through all the normal online outlets (Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com, Borders.com, etc.).

In the meantime, you can pre-order copies of “Snuff” by contacting the publisher at sales@bluphier.com.

Thanks for the interest and keep it brutal,

Adam and Eric

FearZone review of “Snuff”

FearZone.com just posted a review of “Snuff” by Gabrielle S. Faust:

“SNUFF is by far the single most disturbing piece of literature I have ever read. I imagine it will probably be hard for many to get through because of the unimaginable level of brutality that takes place, page after bloodied page. Especially women since this is a novel whose main character is acting out his hatred for women due to the abuse he suffered at the hands of his foster mother in the past. Readers will have to have the ability to step back and take the piece as a whole, to see the greater message about the insane level of brutality in our culture and the effects of abuse on the human psyche it is attempting to deliver, rather than focusing in on each grisly detail. This is definitely not a novel for the weak of stomach; even I, a tried and true horror fan, had a hard time with many of the passages due to their graphic content. However, I persevered, resisting the urge to shut the book and run to the bathroom to wretch, because of how well the novel is written. It’s amazing to me that such a psychotic story could be so intelligently written, but Enck and Huber have accomplished this feat. There is a certain societal awareness about the piece that makes it very fitting for the age we are struggling to live in. Indeed if I were to sum up the book in one phrase it would have to be ‘Jack the Ripper meets American Psycho in a basement bondage dungeon’.”

Read the entire review at FearZone