Chris Morris

Doctors in Hell Chris Morris

Publisher Marketing: Damned souls wail as plagues wreak havoc, doctors up their fees, snake-oil salesmen make a killing, and Satan turns his hit-man loose. Be there when Erra, the Babylonian plague god, and his seven personified weapons, spread terror throughout the underverse! Rookie authors write prescriptions for perdition, while veteran hellions diagnose the damned: Deborah Koren, Andrew P. Weston, Janet Morris, Joe Bonadonna, Matthew Kirshenblatt, Chris Morris, Michael H. Hanson, Rob Hinkle, Jack William Finley, Bill Snider, Richard Groller, Paul Freeman, Nancy Asire. Victor Frankenstein and Quasimodo develop a vaccine -- with diabolical results... Satan looses Daemon Grim, the Devil's personal hit man, and damned souls cower... Bat Masterson finds himself caught between plague victims and Wyatt Earp... Judas learns you can't teach an old dog new sins... Calamity Jane and her Sinchester carbine defend hell's last uninfected outpost... Nietzsche and Lilith, Adam's first wife, face the Beast and come to fiendish accord... Doc Holliday tries one last gambit, and unleashes all hell's fury... And there's worse to come, even an excerpt from bestselling author Andrew P. Weston's forthcoming Heroes in Hell novel! If you think life is tough, try the afterlife, where the doctor is always wrong, sinners never win, misery runs amok, and all hell's damned get their just deserts -- eternally. Contributor Bio:  Morris, Janet Bill Snider (aka Zombie Zak), a (mostly) humble creature of the night, the dead and things best left with the Bright. From the frozen wastes of Toronto, Canada, sprung from the shadow wrought, he walks between whispers and thought. Shambler of the Night, engineer of bubblicious blight; a deadpan desire for total and complete global domination sincere, is attempting to compile something bouncy and maybe not all here. Legions cover the planet from pole to pole, nothing mediocre you see, nothing quite so droll. Cookies, brains, bacon and zombies, oh my! Forsooth and gadzooks, you're all going to buy. By word, by rhythm, something unseen, I leave you with these words pretty, but unclean. Wrap up your bubbles, your unkempt asides; for tonight, we read, imagination we ride! Waves of rhythm and rhyme, the bright, the simple, the sublime. Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly ...