Another berserk outing by Braunbeck featuring again one of the worst places to live: Cedar Hill, Ohio. After beginning with a breathing, bleeding cedar tree (that's a hint) that blows up a coffin factory Braunbeck seemingly gets down to a typical slasher gore fest type of terror/horror novel, but he never writes books like that. Soon the goings on become so bizarre and the body count and blood rises so fast that you just cannot figure out how it will all end. Butterflies and angels appear. Bodies are dug up and buried. Ghosts appear. Serial killers lineup. New Testament characters wander around spreading mayhem. And still the bodies add up. Don't worry, Braunbeck has a great finish for you, as usual, and it all makes sense.

Braunbeck's novels are actually loosely connected and there are references to [b:Mr. Hands|19141|Mr. Hands|Gary A. Braunbeck|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1389887335s/19141.jpg|20436], [b:Keepers|19138|Keepers|Gary A. Braunbeck|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1390998061s/19138.jpg|20433], and [b:In Silent Graves|19140|In Silent Graves|Gary A. Braunbeck|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1297542862s/19140.jpg|20435] here but it seems to me the books could be read on their own, but why cheat yourself? Read them all.

There are two bonus Cedar Hill stories appended to the novel. ( )

We'll start off with everything this book does wrong, and then end on a positive note. Since this book is older, I don't feel so bad about spoiling the entire thing for you, but you should know... SPOILERS!

COFFIN COUNTY doesn't even start until page 90. The first 89 pages don't mean shit concerning the overall story. Nothing. That right there made me want to thug-punch an invalid. How the hell do you spend 89 pages on superfluous details? I was hoping Braunbeck would give me a reason not to hate him, but he failed on all accounts. So much so that I... you know what, never mind. I'll tell you what I was going to say in the next paragraph because it pertains to a whole other problem altogether.

If your book is not worth publishing by its lonesome, tacking on a couple of short stories at the end to "make it longer/worthwhile" isn't going to appease your readership. In fact, this is one of the biggest complaints I hear from readers. "I got to the 50-75% mark and the book ended. Next thing I know I'm reading short stories or interviews with the writer or the author's thoughts on motherfucking lawn care!" Now, since Leisure Fiction (an imprint of Dorchester Press that died a fiery death after they stopped paying their authors) published this book, I cannot blame Braunbeck. I can almost hear the conversation between Gary and Leisure:

Leisure: Yo, Braun-Braun, this one isn't quite long enough. Can you spot us a few shorts so we can charge regular price for this?

Gary: I don't know, won't people get pissed?

Leisure: Fuck 'em! As long as they get the proper word count for their buck, who's paying attention to content?

How can I say this with a clear conscious? Because there's not one hint to the fact that this is a novella with short stories tagged on. Not a single one. You get to page 270 of a 332 page book and, "Surprise, Nancy Boy!" the book's over. If this were a food product, I'd be able to sue. Mark your goddamn packaging accordingly.

Last of the worst: this book condones serial killers. Yeah, yeah, I know, it's fiction, but the way Braunbeck delivers his twist is shockingly insensitive. So, every real life serial killer since Jesus has been killing people so that others may live. I'll let that sink in for a minute. I'll be over here, scratching my ass...

Okay, are we understood? Braunbeck's story is about how mass murder is needed to balance out the world. I can only image how a victim's family would feel after reading that Dahmer and Gacy and Jim Jones only did what they did for the greater good of humankind. There are some lines you do not cross, even in fiction, and that is condoning the actions of real life monsters. This would be like saying Hitler was just a little misunderstood.

Oh, and like Brian Keene, this author seems obsessed with killing infants. I counted three dead babies in this short-as-hell book. Even I have to draw the line somewhere. Not cool.

I promised some mention of the good in this book, so here it is. Gary A. Braunbeck is a talented author. His prose sings (especially loved chapter 37). The twist at the end was great up until he pulled the whole condoning-real-killers thing. And even though the first 89 pages are filler, everything did eventually come together because of that aforementioned twist regarding who the Reverend and Hoopsticks truly were.

Two stars because at least this guy can write. I simply don't like what he writes about.

(Side note: I just looked at Braunbeck's back catalog and have come to this conclusion: This book seemingly ties together some of his other books (Keepers, Mr. Hands, to name a few) as those things were mentioned in those 89 pages I was talking about. This really killed the book for me because I haven't read those other books and do not intend to. Once again, there was no mention of this on the cover or in the synopsis. Sneaky publishers are sneaky.) ( )

This was a book I found while browsing in the store and I am sure glad I found it. It is a definite page turner, kept me engrossed the whole day it took to read. I would recommend to anyone interested in books of this genre.