I live in Bear Lake, Michigan with my wife, daughter, forty cats, and thirty horses.* I’m not quite sure why I love writing twisted fiction, but there’s no stopping the weirdness once I sit in front of a computer.
Much of the blame probably lies with my mom. (I’m supposed to say that, right?) She’s a retired archaeology professor, and when I was a kid, she read me Greek and Roman mythology as bedtime stories.
My dad’s not innocent in the matter, either. He was a pathologist for more than twenty years, and he occasionally killed our dinner table conversation with an offhand description of his latest autopsy.
Nick Wisseman’s Books
House with a Blue Door