Genital Grinder

All stories copyright © 2011 Ryan Harding

Cover art copyright © 2011 Suzzan Blac

www.SUZZANB.com

All rights reserved.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you to all who wanted this collection, in particular Jeff Burk of Deadite and Brian Keene for putting him in contact with me. And to Edward Lee for the killer foreword and just for being a cool guy to me over the years, in addition to consistently raising the disgust quotient of his fiction. The morbid among us find this a true inspiration.

A very special thank you to Bob Strauss, Bill Hughes, and Darrin McDonel (and his dad) for playing archaeologist for me and excavating stories and fragments lost to me for years.

My gratitude to my past editors and publishers—Matt Schwartz (Horrornet), Dave Barnett (Necro Publications), Kelly Laymon and Jeremy Lassen (Freak Press), Eddie McMullen, Jr./Feo Amante, Bill Hughes again (Dread: Tales of the Uncanny and Grotesque), Sandra Fritz (Altered Perceptions), Mikhail and The Meat Socket, Cemetery Dance and all involved with In Laymon’s Terms.

To my collaborators over the years—Brent Zirnheld, James Futch, James Newman, Geoff Cooper (duuuuuuuude) and the other co-contributors to Darker Dawning 1 and 2: Regina Mitchell, BK, Mike Oliveri, Mikey Huyck, John Urbancik, and the inimitable GAK.

The YKOF partners in chyme of today and yore—Sam Bizzle/Kill Moe Dee, The Masked Jackal, and Z2K.

And to Harry Bennett, Cherry Brady, Mike Bracken, Bill Connolly, Jay Clarke/Michael Slade, Laura Elvin, Jamey Fiala, Brad Hodson (quim), Ann Laymon, R. Murphy, John Pelan, Will Rahmer, and Travis Reynolds.

In memory of J.G. Ballard, Richard Laymon, and Rex Miller.

Enjoy the Gang Rape by Edward Lee

Bottom Feeder

Damaged Goods

Sharing Needles

Genital Grinder: A Snuff Act in 5 Acts

Development

Emissary

Genital Grinder II: Dis-Membered

First Indications

Aftermath

Quite a number of years ago—at least 15, but my aging gray matter can’t be sure—I was contacted by a fan named Ryan Harding. I’ve always tried to respond to all fan contacts (every now and then, however, you get an obvious clunker, like the ex-con who wrote to tell me The Bighead’s most violent scenes provided him with superb masturbation fodder; or the woman who wanted to know if I’d like to see pictures of her cutting herself—these, yes, are such clunkers. It is advisable for an author never to reply to these red flags) and I was impressed as well as flattered by Mr. Harding’s generous words regarding my work; additionally, he bestowed such words in a manner and air which disclosed a formidable command of the language and a most arresting and cogent creative bent. Moreover, Mr. Harding was a positive acquaintance of several friends of mine; hence, it seemed unlikely that he might be hiding “clunkerdom” beneath a clever camouflage and would later stalk me or, say, start murdering people in ways which duplicated the superfluity of murders in my books. So I chose to pursue correspondence with this young, intelligent, and spirited Mr. Harding. He had aspirations of becoming a writer