Tourist Season by Brynne Weaver is a gripping novel set in the eerie town of Cape Carnage, where dark humor intertwines with horror and romance. The story follows a protagonist who navigates the unsettling events surrounding the town’s tourist season, revealing the sinister side of vacationers. As the narrative unfolds, readers encounter a series of bizarre incidents that lead to a shocking climax, exploring themes of revenge and justice. This book is perfect for fans of dark comedies and thrillers, offering a unique blend of suspense and wit. Brynne Weaver, a bestselling author known for her genre-defying works, brings her signature style to this captivating tale.

Key Points

  • Explores the dark side of tourism in Cape Carnage, highlighting the protagonist’s encounters with unruly vacationers.
  • Features a blend of dark comedy and horror, making it appealing for fans of genre-bending narratives.
  • Delves into themes of revenge, justice, and the consequences of unchecked behavior during tourist season.
  • Written by Brynne Weaver, a bestselling author known for her engaging storytelling and unique voice.
newtopiccyclegrowin
Author:Brynne Weaver
311 pages
Language:English
Type:Short Story
Fantasy
newtopiccyclegrowin
Author:Brynne Weaver
311 pages
Language:English
Type:Short Story
Fantasy
392
/ 311
EROSION
Harper
I’M SURE NOBODY GOES ON vacation expecting to be dismembered and put
through a woodchipper, but some tourists are just assholes and deserve their
fate.
Like the guy in the Buoy and Beacon Pub last year who cornered Selma
Dayton by the bathrooms. I was there. I heard her tell him no. When I came
around the corner from the bar, he was trying to kiss her and slide a hand up
her shirt. Piece of shit.
Woodchipper.
Or the guy who got drunk and high and crashed through a fence at Dale
Linden’s farm and then proceeded to chase his horses through the field.
They panicked, of course. One of them fell and broke a leg. Dale had to put
it down. Even though he called the cops, Sheriff Yates was too lazy to do
anything more than write a police report. As usual.
Woodchipper.
Or the man whose dismembered hand I’m holding now. Mr. Bryce
Mahoney. I saw him at Carnage Country Grocery, trying to take pictures up
women’s skirts with his phone. When I stole his wallet and looked him up, I
found he’d already been discovered and charged with the same crime in two
other states. And yet, there he was, traipsing around Carnage like he fucking
owned the place, barely concealing the fact that he was up to the same shit
yet again.
Definitely the woodchipper.
I hum to myself as I examine his palm, the skin pale, like a wax
imitation of the real thing. It’s cold. Heavier than I expected, especially with
such stubby fingers. I turn the severed hand over and trace the network of
veins that weaves over the bones. They were full of life only hours ago. He
knew their pattern. He could probably tell me how he got the jagged little
scar over one knuckle. I’m sure he had a story about how he got the stitches
that marked his skin with dots of scar tissue. Maybe I should feel guilty that
I took those memories from him.
“But I don’t,” I say as I toss his hand into the hopper of the blue
woodchipper. Cookie Monster has been my faithful tool through twelve
tourists now, including Mr. Mahoney. And he’s always hungry for more.
Just like me.
The pitch of the chipper drops a few notes as it chews through flesh and
bone, spraying it onto the tarp I’ve set up next to the flower bed.
Maybe once upon a time, I would have felt remorse. But I left that
person behind when I came to Cape Carnage four years ago. When I started
a new life. When I promised to keep my past hidden and protect this
sanctuary of secrets.
And I’m not about to let anyone like Bryce Fucking Mahoney ruin my
town.
I cast my gaze across my garden. We’re in that in-between time of year
—not spring, not quite summer. Only the daffodils and tulips and
snowdrops have bloomed. And yet, the tourists have already started to
come. They’re chartering fishing boats. They’re renting equipment and
booking tours of the sunken HMS Carnage our town was named for and the
numerous other shipwrecks hidden off the rocky coast. They’re exploring
the museum. They peruse the artsy and quaint and quirky downtown. They
trek up the one hundred and fifty-two steps to the Cape Carnage lighthouse.
They head to the local distilleries and vineyards to sample whiskeys and
wines.
It might be odd. A little macabre at times. But to me, it’s a paradise.
Our little town only has a few thousand permanent residents, including
me. When the height of tourist season peaks with the Taste of Terror food
festival at the end of the summer, we’ll be wildly outnumbered. And I get it,
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FAQs

What happens to Bryce Mahoney in the story?
Bryce Mahoney meets a gruesome fate in the story. After being caught taking inappropriate photos of women, he is dismembered by the narrator using a woodchipper. The narrator reflects on his past crimes and the satisfaction of disposing of him, indicating that he has dealt with multiple tourists like Bryce who have caused trouble in the town.

How does the narrator feel about the tourists in Cape Carnage?
The narrator has a complex relationship with the tourists in Cape Carnage. While they acknowledge that tourists are essential for the town's economy, especially during the peak season, they also express disdain for those who behave poorly. The narrator feels a responsibility to protect the town from harmful individuals, which justifies their violent actions against tourists like Bryce Mahoney.

What role does the raven play in the narrator's life?
The raven, named Morpheus, plays a significant role in the narrator's life as a companion and a source of comfort. The narrator has hand-raised Morpheus, teaching him to speak and interact with them. The raven's persistent demands for food and its presence in the garden symbolize a connection to nature and the cycle of life and death, as the narrator feeds it the remains of their victims.