Three Pickrels, three books that have nothing in common except the last name.
Brandon Pickrel
He deadbolted the door at eleven o’clock. At six the next morning there was a token on his nightstand, six inches from his head.
A psychological horror novella about a man, a locked room, and a game he thought had finished years ago. Nothing supernatural happens in it. That is the worst part.
Shawn Pickrel
He built the game. But something else built him.
A novella for readers who would rather be inside the screen than looking at it.
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The Betrayer’s Cup: a celebrated man who built an airtight case for why none of it could be true, and the one question he arranged his whole life to avoid asking.
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