Miles Corbin, a footloose writer of "Sinful Persuasion", and a number of other trashy novels now in Bethlehem, a town in New York, chasing rainbows and Bohemian girls. He lived alone in a cheap apartment over a massage parlor,...

The Grinch’s skin was the wrong shade of green—the kind that looked like it had been left in the sun too long. And he wasn’t wearing pants.He stood in the alley behind the butcher’s shop, his knobby knees knocking...

The butcher's son, Clovis, had crooked fingers. Thick-knuckled and perpetually smeared with grease, they curled around cleavers like they'd been born that way. His left pinky was permanently bent from the time a side of beef slipped off its...