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Author: Jack Ketchum
Artist: Alan M. Clark & Glenn Chadbourne
Page Count: 90
Pub. Date: October 2006
ISBN: 1-58767-154-9

Rating:  (Rate It!)

Status: Limited Edition Out of Print; Lettered Edition Coming Soon!

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Choose Your Edition:  Lettered Edition

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"Ketchum has become a kind of hero to those of us who write tales of terror and suspense. He is, quite simply, one of the best in the business."
—Stephen King

Weed Species
by Jack Ketchum

Cover Artwork: Alan M. Clark
B&W Interior Artwork: Glenn Chadbourne

WEED SPECIES: In ecology. An invasive species, also called an invasive exotic, is an organism that is intentionally or accidentally introduced to an area where it is not native, and where it successfully invades and disturbs natural ecosystems, displacing native species. The term is most often applied to, but not limited to, plants. See also kudzu, water hyacinth, zebra mussel, Burmese python, eco-tourism, sociopath.

Weed Species is a brand new novella from award-winning author Jack Ketchum, and this is a Cemetery Dance exclusive title—there are currently no other editions of this book planned for anywhere in the world!

About the Author:
Jack Ketchum is the pseudonym for a former actor, singer, teacher, literary agent, lumber salesman, and soda jerk -- a former flower child and baby boomer who figures that in 1956 Elvis, dinosaurs and horror probably saved his life. His first novel, Off Season, prompted the Village Voice to publicly scold its publisher in print for publishing violent pornography. He personally disagrees but is perfectly happy to let you decide for yourself. His short story "The Box" won a 1994 Bram Stoker Award from the HWA, his story "Gone" won again in 2000—and in 2003 he won Stokers for both best collection for Peaceable Kingdom and best long fiction for Closing Time.  He has written eleven novels, the latest of which are Red, Ladies' Night, and The Lost. His stories are collected in The Exit At Toledo Blade Boulevard, Broken on the Wheel of Sex, and Peaceable Kingdom.  His novella The Crossings was cited by Stephen King in his speech at  the 2003 National Book Awards.

Available in two states:
Limited Edition of 1,500 signed copies ($35)
Traycased Lettered Edition of 52 signed and lettered copies bound in leather with a satin ribbon page marker ($175)

Lettered Edition Status:
The deluxe Lettered Edition copies of this book have been bound, and our traycase manufacturer has begun production on the traycases. We expect them later this year. We will update this page when the Lettered Edition is ready to ship. Thank you for your patience.

The Halcion in Talia's Christmas daiquiris had taken at last and now all that remained was to see that she did not wake up again. She had plenty of experience with halothane from the veterinary clinic though at the clinic she delivered it vaporized with oxygen through a mask and not by hand so she would have to be careful. She didn't want to kill her little sister god knows. Only keep her out of it for however much time it would take for Owen to rape her.

Talia was a blonde like Sherry but at thirteen her pubic hair was still nearly as fine and white as the hair along her arms and her pale skin reflected back the green and red Christmas tree lights as though she were decorated for the holidays in glowing stop and go pastels. The green was nearly the same soft color as the dresses Sherry had just a week ago picked out for her bridesmaids.

It had been no easy week, planning both the wedding and the rape. Owen was useless throughout all of it. But her wedding reception was dinner for one hundred and twenty at the fabulous Monk's Inn. Quail stuffed with crabmeat. And Talia's virginity was her Christmas present to Owen -- her virginity and the camcorder. She needed to get both wedding and rape exactly right.

"Push your hair back so I can see your face. Suck her breasts," he said.

She smiled for the camera. The nipple tasted salty at first and was very soft and smooth and then it puckered. She moved her tongue around the areola and smiled again.

"Now put your finger inside her. That's right. Now put two."

"Shit. She's got her period."

"She does?"

She lifted away the halothane rag. Not too much, she thought. Careful.

"Yeah, she does."

Owen shrugged. "She's gonna bleed anyway, right? Suck your fingers."

"That's disgusting, Owen.."

"Just do it."

She guessed that blood was blood. She'd tasted her own now and then. She sucked them slowly while Owen came in for a closeup.

"Taste good?"

"Mmmmm," she lied.

"Go down on her. Get her all wet for me."

"She's got her period, Owen."

"So?"

"She's already wet."

"So? Get her wetter."

"That's really disgusting."

Sherry thought about it. What if her sister woke up and saw what she was doing? Jesus.

"Okay, all right, just hold on a sec."

She adjusted the rag so that it was about an inch above Talia's mouth and nose and held it there for a few moments. She got down on her knees and lifted her sister's left leg and set it down so that her foot rested lightly on the polished hardwood floor.

She tasted like blood and there was a musky odor down there that she didn't like.

Owen had moved in for a closeup again. She only licked her cunt for a little while. And not too deeply. You could only go so far.

"Okay, your turn," she said. "She's ready."

She could see that he was certainly ready even before she unzipped him and pulled down his jeans and boxers.

"You want a blow job first?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Let me do the halothane again. Just to be sure."

"Okay."

She held the rag above her sister's nose again awhile and then reached for the camera and Owen handed it to her. She put the eyepiece to her eye and framed Owen climbing on top of her and held it steady.

"Merry Christmas, sweets," she said.

He grinned into the camcorder and slid inside.

There wasn't as much blood as she remembered from her own first time and she knew that Owen was happy. He'd always wanted a virgin and at nineteen Sherry definitely was not a candidate. Which had disappointed him. Now he was getting one. Up her cunt and up her ass and back again. But he'd only been doing it to her for a little while all things considered when he suddenly pulled out of her and she could see from his face that something was very wrong.

Her sister lurched once and then twice and the second time she vomited. It spewed down over her breasts and stomach and splattered Owen's leg and pooled in her open mouth. Jesus fucking Christ! he said. Goddammit, she thought. Too many drinks and too much dinner -- at the clinic the animals were not supposed to eat or drink for at least eight hours before anesthesia. But she knew what to do now from the clinic too.

She put the camera down on the plush velvet chair. Felt a burst of adrenaline. Talia was in trouble. They were in trouble.

"Grab her by the feet. By the ankles. Hold her upside down."

"Jesus fucking Christ," he said again.

"We've got to clear her throat, Owen. Hold her up!"

And then she was on her knees scraping at the stuff with her fingers. There was a lot of it and it rolled down over her sister's forehead into her hair and the odor was like rancid cheese but she kept at it and pressed her head to Talia's chest to listen for a heartbeat and at first she heard one and then she didn't.

"She's not breathing. You've got to do CPR."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"You're the one who dosed her with that shit!"

"And you're the one who wanted to fuck her. Just do it, dammit. Get her down on the floor. Now, fast!"

She watched him straddle her.

"I don't know how..." He was practically whining. Not like him.

"I do. Tilt her head back. That's right. Now you pinch her nose and blow into her mouth until her chest rises, about two seconds. You do two breaths like that. Then if she still isn't breathing you put your hands down on her chest, right between the nipples and you press fifteen times. About two inches, no more or you'll break something. If she still isn't breathing you do it all over again."

"Can't you at least wash her face or something?"

"She's fucking dying for chrissake! Get going! I've got to dump the halothane and the rag and call 911. When I'm done I'll bring you in a washcloth, all right?"

She waited until she was sure he was going to go through with it. Until she saw him cover her mouth with his own and breathe and saw her sister's chest rise. Then she went about her business. Made the call to 911. It wasn't at all hard to fake an element of panic. Her heart was still racing. When she hung up she poured the halothane down the drain and ran the water and rinsed and capped the bottle and bagged the bottle and the rag and took them out with the garbage.

She was careful not to let the door slam behind her. She didn't want to wake her parents yet. The ambulance's siren could do that. She didn't want to explain this more often than she needed to.

In the kitchen she was finally calm. She wet a dishtowel and took that and a roll of Scott paper towels out to Owen. He was working on her chest.

"Anything?"

"Nothing. Not a damn thing."

She looked down at her sister.

"Put your clothes on. Wipe your face. We've got to get her dressed. We'll mop up some of this stuff with her sweats and teeshirt so it looks like she was wearing them when she puked and then we've got to agree on a very simple story."

"Sherry?"

"Yeah?

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I mean, it wasn't like some of the other girls, you know? Talia was your little sister."

She knelt down beside him and dabbed at his face with the dishcloth.

"I know," she said. "It's okay, Owen. I still love you. I know."

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Customer Reviews	Add Your Review
Interesting	12/02/2006 - by Anthony Miller from Pensacola, FL US
I really enjoyed this book. Take the advice of CD and read the interview and excerpt before you order it. It's not for everybody. This book will have you wonder what evil really is. Is it someting that appears in some people naturally? Does it have to be carefully planted and grown in another person? Is it evil if the person believes they are doing the right thing? Plenty of room for personal interpretation. Evil is like weeds. Once you see one weed sprout more and more are sure to follow. This was my first CD book and I am very satisifed with the production quality. Not being one of the major publishing houses I wasn't sure what the quality of the book would be. It's great! I will glady order from CD again in the future.
Surprised	11/25/2006 - by JOHN LEWCZYK from FORT ANN, NY US
This book took me by surprise, it was not what I expected. That is not always a bad thing . . . This book is a nasty little thing that will make you take a serious look at why you read what you read . . . This book is a nasty little thing that will make you deny to anyone that you ever read it, much less owned it. Then you'll go back and read it again . . . Did I mention that I loved it?
Forgive me Father...	11/06/2006 - by Martin Roberts from Stoke on Trent (GB)
...for I have sinned! I'm not a religious person by any means, but after reading Jack Ketchum's latest novella, I felt like I needed to attend confession! Instead, I decided to ask for forgiveness here, where it will be appreciated. I recommend this book to Ketchum fans for the collectability of title and to fans of hardcore horror in general. I will be amazed if this gets picked up by Leisure for paperback reissue. Jack states that he wanted to repulse himself and he certainly repulsed this reader! The most frightening thing about this book is that it reads like it could easily be a tabloid headline of the future. Easily the most disturbing Cemetery Dance title I've had the 'pleasure' to read so far!