This is the book that started it all. I could talk for hours, days, and weeks about how Boogie House has changed the scope of my writing life, but allow me to play at being modest here and leave it to the book to tell you:
Rolson McKane is a bad drunk. He might even be a worse cop, though the jury’s still out on that one. After drunkenly plowing into a woman’s car while on duty, he ends up off the force and well on his way to a lifetime of hangovers.
However, a chance encounter with a nightmare and trek into the woods ends up providing him with a path toward redemption. All he needs is to listen to the advice of a dead man, and he might be able to climb out of the hell of his own making.
With the help of a few friends and the curse of being able to talk with the dead, Rolson has no choice but to challenge the status quo of his hometown, Lumber Junction, and throw his own life into mortal peril in the process. Can he solve a young man’s murder before his very existence crumbles?
Maybe. Maybe it’s just a bad case of the Blues…
That’s a modified version of what you’ll currently find on the back flap copy of the book. I’m always changing it, looking for the right angle to approach the book from. It’s quite the weird novel, in retrospect, and it’s quite creaky, too, having lived with it being published for over a year. What I’m working on now — the third book in the series — I can tell how much I’ve grown, even, within the span of a year. Hope you enjoy the book.