This bibliography was published as a limited edition chapbook (250 copies) by Seele Brennt Publications in 2003.
It is a listing of works done solely under the guise of Jack Ketchum; pieces credited to Dallas Mayr, Jerzy Livingston, Bruce Arthur, Dallas Ketchum, or that were published uncredited are not listed unless said works were later published under the Jack Ketchum nom de plume. Books only list publication dates in the United States, unless foreign publication predated first U.S. printing. Online, non-print sources are not cited.
| Publisher | Seele Brennt Publications |
|---|---|
| Limited Edition | 200 paperback chapbooks |
| Year | 2003 |
| Format | Paperback |
| Pages | 40 |
| Country | USA |
| ISBN | None |
A beautiful New York editor retreats to a quiet Maine beach town –
Nearby, a savage human family lurks in the woods, watching, waiting…
And before too many hours pass, five civilized, sophisticated people will learn just how primitive we all are, and that there are no limits to the will to survive.
Howard Gardner deserved to die. For years he abused his wife. Physically. Verbally. Psychologically. Even after the separation, he kept coming back for more.
Carole and her lover, Lee, knew there was only one way to get him out of their lives. Murder. They planned every detail. And they thought they committed the perfect crime.
But a stranger saw them do it. His name was Wayne Lock, and he wanted to be their friend. He wanted to share the thrill of murder. And he wanted to take Carole and Lee on a road trip straight to hell. An all-out killing spree. The ultimate experience…
Before there was Jack Ketchum there was Jerzy Livingston, a writer new at his craft but thoroughly jazzed to it, living in a very strange time in a very strange New York City, going straight to hell in a handbasket and loving every minute, writing stories for the likes of Swank, Cavalier, Genesis, Nugget, and High Society. Dark, black-comic stories mostly, the kind you might almost expect of the Ketchum who was waiting in the wings. The Sexual Revolution was lost by then -lost on all fronts- and only a few had noticed. He had. He was whistling in a graveyard.
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