
It doesn't matter if it's completely mucky, no job is too big for Mister Sucky. Serial killer Clive Beauchamp has checked into his hotel room and is all set to increase his death toll by one. However, intended target Angela Foxe has other ideas and murderer becomes murderee. Determined to save Clive's soul from eternal damnation, an ancient evil instructs one of his acolytes to intervene. Unfortunately for Clive, the hired help is not the brightest bulb in the box, and instead of Clive being born anew within an avatar of unparalleled strength and brutality, his spirit is interred inside a vacuum cleaner. Irked but undeterred, Clive decides that the only course of action is to finish what he started, taking care not just of Angela, but everyone else involved in the plot to kill him and stuff his corpse in a dingy cleaning cupboard. The only thing that can stop him comes not from the other hotel guests or staff, but from within, as a growing, nagging voice threatens to escalate a simple case of revenge, into something far, far worse. Will Clive get payback for being killed? Is a vacuum cleaner capable of murder and mayhem? Does this book suck? Does this synopsis blow? Can you come up with a better vacuum cleaner related joke? Find out in... Mr Sucky Mr Sucky is the first in Duncan P. Bradshaw's new range of books. With his work lurking on the borders of horror and bizarro, and in an effort to pigeonhole himself, he has created his own genre 'Gore-com', which is as pretentious as it sounds. These books have been written to test your gag reflex, force a smile, make your eyes roll and work out those other facial muscles that rarely break a sweat. Pick one up and see what you reckon. What's the worst that can happen?* * Duncan P. Bradshaw cannot be held accountable for anything worse that happens as a result of reading his books. So there.
Author

I live in the simply marvelous county of Wiltshire in England with my wife Debbie and our two cats, Rafa and Pepe. We wile away the wee hours learning arcane incantations and medieval wind instruments, surviving solely on what our two furry faced fellows bring us. Winter is a bleak time indeed, when the common vole, the staple of our diet slumbers deep within the earth. After writing a number of books and stories on the undead to begin with, I now write whatever weird and wonderful stories infect my brain. Sitting outside of conventional genres, my books have a mix of comedy, horror and the bizarre, you can never be too sure what the hell is going to happen next. With my own label, EyeCue Productions, the physical copies of my books are something a little different. And with my own genre of GoreCom invented, a whole new level of EPICness is inbound. Don't worry about a seatbelt, let yourself get thrown through the windscreen of weirdness and see how you get on.