By Jonathan Maberry
Every year, the citizens of Pine Deep host the Halloween competition, drawing travelers and celebrities from around the state to benefit from the deliciously creepy enjoyable. those that stopover at the small Pennsylvania city are out for a great time, yet those that dwell there are desperately attempting to survive...For a massive evil lives between them, a savage presence whose malicious strength has grown too strong even for dying to carry it again. just a handful of courageous souls stand opposed to the King of the lifeless and a purple wave of destruction. sunlight is fading and a nasty moon is emerging over Pine Deep. retain staring at the shadows...
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Additional info for Bad Moon Rising
Even this late there were dozens of cars down there, dusted with moonlight but asleep. All around the town there was a ring of black clouds that were invisible against the night, but above the Bone Man the stars ﬂickered and glimmered by the thousand. For three hours he had sat cross-legged on the roof, playing his songs, humming and sometimes singing, coaxing the sad blues out of the ghost of an old guitar that Charley Patton had once used to play “Mississippi Boweavil Blues” at a church picnic in Bentonia, Mississippi.
Vic Wingate exhaled as he turned to Polk, and in the darkness of the hallway his eyes were just as black and bottomless as Ruger’s. “Couple hours ago I’d have told you we were screwed. ” He plucked a ﬂeck of tobacco from his tongue-tip and ﬂicked it away. ” He took another drag. “Does that mean we’re okay now? ” A lot of thoughts seemed to ﬂit back and forth behind the black glass of Vic’s eyes. “Depends on what you mean,” he said with a smile, and then he headed down the hallway toward the morgue.
Tears streaked his face, drool hung from his rubbery lips. In his ears he could hear the pounding of his heart—it sounded like someone hitting a bass drum with a ﬁst wrapped in gauze. “I’m sorry,” he blubbered, hanging his head. ” The Bone Man lingered in the shadows of the destroyed living room. He’d enjoyed Eddie’s frustrated rage. Such a damn shame it stopped short of the big man just plain killing himself. He pretended to sigh. “That’s one round to us,” he said, though his voice was as soundless as he was invisible.