Tales of the Funeral Clown

Tales of the Funeral Clown
By Tony Arnold
Southern Gothic has never been this deranged.
By day, Dick drives the ambulance for Westmore Funeral Home and Ambulance Service. By night, he's still wearing the clown suit — greasepaint, red nose, oversized shoes and all — because in this small Southern town, somebody has to ferry the dead, and somebody has to laugh about it.
But something's stalking the graveyards. Bodies are being disturbed. A killer wearing his own face and costume is loose in the county, and Dick — reluctant vigilante, part-time mortician, full-time absurdist — is about to find out how far down the rabbit hole of his own small town's secrets really goes.
Tales of the Funeral Clown is a genre-blending fever dream — part hardboiled noir, part pulp horror, part unhinged satire — stitched together with haiku interludes, animatronic sidekicks, superhero parody, and a narrator who can't decide if he's investigating a crime or starring in one. It's irreverent, uncomfortable, wildly inventive, and never, ever what you expect from one page to the next.
Not for the faint of heart. Definitely not for the easily offended.

Perfect for readers who like their horror-comedy served pitch-black, with a side of Southern gothic weirdness and a wink from beyond the grave.

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