Adventure fiction · Est. the drugstore wire rack
Pulp with the safety off.
Somewhere between 1968 and 1984, paperback fiction knew exactly what it was for. Lean. Mean. Funny when it had no business being. Sold off a wire rack by the drugstore door for the price of a sandwich, read in two sittings, and handed to whoever wanted it next.
Nobody makes those anymore.
So I do.
Two series, two flavors of trouble. Both landing soon.
The Mongrels · Book One
The bombs fell. The rich went underground. Now they want their planet back.
Five strays and a war-rig hire out to defend a water town from men in spotless white armor carrying eviction notices. Then they find out what the eviction is really covering — and that the town is going to sell them out before the week is done.
Post-apocalyptic action · brutal and funny.
A Deke Mercer Thriller · Book One
They marked him for a shallow grave.
Philadelphia, 1977. The mob buried the wrong man and didn't check he stayed down. Deke Mercer came back up out of the dirt with nothing left to lose and a very long memory — and the families that put him there are about to learn what tribute really costs.
Hardboiled crime · men's adventure, straight, no chaser.
What you're buying, every time, no exceptions.
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Thom Johns writes the kind of adventure fiction that used to live on a wire rack by the drugstore door — post-apocalyptic action, hardboiled crime, and whatever else can be done in under three hundred pages without wasting anybody's evening.
He came to it by way of a shelf of yellowed paperbacks that were never built to last this long — cracked spines, lurid covers, bought for pocket change and read to pieces. Somewhere in there he decided the world could stand a few more of them.
He writes fast, cuts hard, and figures a book you can't finish in a weekend had better have a very good excuse. He's currently at work on the next one.