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By Ronald Kelly

The vampire curse of the Craven kinfolk is reborn, and the population of the backwoods city of eco-friendly hole, Tennessee, come upon unforeseen horror as a bride activates her husband, a puppy rat develops a murderous streak, and an insane preacher slaughters his congregation. unique.

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His hands clenched the steering wheel nervously. The palm of his left hand was a little tender, but that was all. Dud turned and looked toward the women's rest room. For a long moment, the doorway remained empty. Maybe she's already done her business and left, he thought hopefully. But a moment later, there she was, pushing the door open and stepping out into the night. The farmer swallowed dryly and watched. She turned toward the concession stand as if intending to go in. Then she paused and looked around like she had heard something.

When there was nothing left but dry heaves, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and sat back in the seat. One way or the other, the mixture had done its job. If there had been any liquor left in his belly, it was gone now. Feeling a little better, Boyd started up the Ford and hit the highway again. He crossed two traffic lights, then drove through the center of Green Hollow, Tennessee. The little town boasted a population of 12,000 residents and was much like a hundred other small communities around the state.

Then he sighed and got up. He walked to the door, hesitated for a moment, then opened it. "Good evening, Dudley," said Josiah Craven. He stared at the preacherman. The old man looked well rested, a hell of a lot more than Dud. The farmer had gotten precious little sleep since he'd made the mistake of pulling that stake loose. "Evening, Grandpappy," he said. " asked the tall man in the black suit. " Dud stepped aside. "Come on in," he said. Grandpappy walked into the cabin. He looked around at the crude furnishings and the lax way Dud kept house, shaking his gray head in disapproval.

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