THE HOTTEST GAY MAN EVER KILLED IN A SHARK ATTACK is Now Out…

Whew! Like 87 years ago or something, my first book, Clown Tear Junkies, saw its publication. After sundry delays, and for better or worse, my second book, The Hottest Gay Man Ever Killed in a Shark Attack, is now a thing in the world.

Click on the cover image for the Amazon link.

From the back cover:

Ever since he was a young orphan, Hansel Higginzshire’s dream has been to break the long-held Guinness World Record for hottest gay man ever killed in a shark attack.

Big Problem #1: Hansel is not hot. At least not in the classical sense. In fact, the deformed man has a head the size of a wrecking ball.

Big Problem #2: Hansel digs chicks, not dudes. Still, that shouldn’t stop a big-headed mofo from dreaming big, no??

But if those obstacles weren’t enough to impede Hansel’s path to Guinness World Record greatness, he finds himself wanted for murder. Now on the lam, his situation pretty hopeless, Hansel agrees to die a horrible death in a snuff film for just few measly bucks.

But perhaps the misfit companions Hansel meets on his westward cross-country trek to Hollywood—Rosebud (the drunken, down-on-its-luck, former actor, and sentient sled from Citizen Kane); a living, talking amputated arm that once belonged to a famous rock drummer; and a geeky keytar player born with a small polar bear head instead of a human head—can convince Hansel to follow his dreams again and attempt to become . . . THE HOTTEST GAY MAN EVER KILLED IN A SHARK ATTACK!!!

(By the way, yo mama is a character in this book. Yeah. For real. Sorry.)

“Hackle may be the best absurdist story writer working today.” —Bradley Sands, author of Dodgeball High

“Douglas Hackle is a 100% certified Angus all-beef patty genius.” —Danger Slater, author of Puppet Skin

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~ by Douglas Hackle on August 20, 2016.

One Response to “THE HOTTEST GAY MAN EVER KILLED IN A SHARK ATTACK is Now Out…”

  1. I’ll go ahead and take this shotgun from my eye cavity for now. You win this one, Hackle. I’ll stay on Earth until your pen rots in your soft, sensitive hand. Fuck, where’d I put that eye I plucked out? No matter. Only need one eye make love to your words.

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