By Guy N. Smith
Right here in a single quantity are the 4 books of Sabat: Graveyard Vultures, Blood retailers, Cannibal Cult and Druid Connection. mythical horror author man N Smith propels the reader from come upon to bizarre come upon in a gore-splattered pulp mania wracked via necropolis visions and tempered by means of bursts of savage intercourse and flesh-rending ultra-violence. those a lot sought-after books were augmented by way of formerly unavailable Sabat tales: Vampire Village and Hellbeat, to supply a specified creditors' variation.
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Additional info for Dead Meat: The Complete Books of Sabat
Her supple body gyrated as she straddled the man beneath her, her head hung forward so that her long auburn hair spilled down and screened her small breasts, two pink and firm nipples protruding through the strands. Loud gasps as she appeared to struggle for breath, arms wind-milling wildly. Sabat's gaze switched to the man lying beneath her. He was big, only his height preventing him from being excessively fat. Even so, surplus flesh bulged and rippled as Miranda pressed down on him. Perspiration glistened on his high brow and a receding hairline was thinning a path that would eventually result in a bald crown.
A childhood terror he'd never shrugged off, a lurking thought at the back of his mind that the murky current might hold something slimy and dangerous. Like an alligator that had escaped from a reptile house. Logically there was almost five million to one against such a happening, but he didn't like these sort of rivers any the more for that reasoning. And when he set eyes on the dead body which the frogman had dragged up from the depths he decided that the alligator odds had been considerably reduced.
A glance down at his own body confirmed the reason, the rigid pulsing erection, the sensation spreading up from his lower regions. He groaned softly to himself another trick of the Left-Hand Path to undermine his resistance, or just the fact that sexually he had gone into overdrive again? His sexual appetite knew no bounds, was seldom fully satisfied. He shrugged as his fingers slid down his flat stomach and began to ruffle the bushy black pubic hair, drawn irresistibly to that part of his body like iron filings to a magnet.