The Haunted Novelist – Paperback

“The most frightening thing ever committed to paper, and I’ve read my own tax returns.” – Lee Emerick, on his own book

Lee Emerick is the greatest horror author in the English language. He says so himself, frequently, in print, in a hardback binding, with a foreword by himself.

On the fourteenth of October, he finishes his masterpiece: The Screaming Page, a novel so terrifying that he has to stop twice to check the doors. The second time, they are locked from the other side.

Ten days later, the villain steps off the page.

Baron Vexmoor Grimsditch is eight feet tall, wears a cloak of woven footnotes, carries a quill for a walking cane, and has read exactly one author in his entire life. He has taken a dim view of him. Within a week, the Baron has taken Lee’s hair, rewritten his kitchen, won a major literary prize with Lee’s memoir, and begun, with terrible politeness, to edit the author out of his own life. (“Show, don’t tell,” he murmurs, as Lee’s dignity leaves the room.)

Lee’s defences are few. His neighbour Dennis is dead (and returns as a rather poor second draft). His agent is arriving in person, which is worse. His only ally is Brenda Coulthard, proofreader, receptionist, entire staff and holder of a red Pilot G-2, who has never once been impressed by him and who may be the only person alive who can mark a monster.

Somewhere above it all, the white at the end of the page is waiting to be written.

A meta-horror comedy of pomp, panic and punctuation, THE HAUNTED NOVELIST is a book that reads you back. Do not look up. Finish the paragraph. It is always a good paragraph. That is rather the problem.