The Least of My Scars
Published by Open Road Media
The New York Times–bestselling author “shows how a serial killer’s paradise and a serial killer’s hell are really the same place” (Brian Evenson, O. Henry Award–winning author).
When a serial killer hits the top of his game, where does he go from there? William Colton Hughes finds out. Not interested in notoriety, Hughes just wants to do what he’s good at: torture and murder. It never occurs to him that he could make a living at it . . . until the yoga instructor.
She happens to be the girlfriend of a powerful and cunning crime boss who catches Hughes literally red-handed. In a twist even Hughes never sees coming, he’s not immediately put down. Instead, he’s set up in a warren of apartments. Hughes’s own private high-rise sanctuary, where his new benefactor feeds victims to him. He couldn’t ask for more. But when his supplies stop coming, Hughes begins to lose his already tenuous grip on reality—and learns that even monsters have their own boogeymen to deal with . . .
“A grim, funny, stylish hallucination of a book—murderous insanity seen from the inside out. You’ll be revolted by this guy, but he’ll fascinate you too.” —Jack Ketchum, Bram Stoker Award–winning author
“[Jones’s] writing is hallucinogenic, varied, fascinating. . . . Big names in writing [come] to mind: Pynchon, David Foster Wallace, even Faulkner.” —New Pages
When a serial killer hits the top of his game, where does he go from there? William Colton Hughes finds out. Not interested in notoriety, Hughes just wants to do what he’s good at: torture and murder. It never occurs to him that he could make a living at it . . . until the yoga instructor.
She happens to be the girlfriend of a powerful and cunning crime boss who catches Hughes literally red-handed. In a twist even Hughes never sees coming, he’s not immediately put down. Instead, he’s set up in a warren of apartments. Hughes’s own private high-rise sanctuary, where his new benefactor feeds victims to him. He couldn’t ask for more. But when his supplies stop coming, Hughes begins to lose his already tenuous grip on reality—and learns that even monsters have their own boogeymen to deal with . . .
“A grim, funny, stylish hallucination of a book—murderous insanity seen from the inside out. You’ll be revolted by this guy, but he’ll fascinate you too.” —Jack Ketchum, Bram Stoker Award–winning author
“[Jones’s] writing is hallucinogenic, varied, fascinating. . . . Big names in writing [come] to mind: Pynchon, David Foster Wallace, even Faulkner.” —New Pages
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