Men, Women, and Chainsaws: A Tor.com Original

By Stephen Graham Jones

Award-winning author Stephen Graham Jones returns with another chilling horror story, "Men, Women, and Chainsaws," a Tor.com Original.

It's been two years since Jenna's ex-boyfriend left her alone in East Texas heartbroken. Now he's back in town and she wants to payback. One night, she stumbles upon a bloodthirsty Camaro that may be the key to carrying out her revenge.

At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: May 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781250850874

Stephen Graham Jones

Stephen Graham Jones is the New York Times bestselling author of The Only Good Indians. He has been an NEA fellowship recipient and a recipient of several awards including the Ray Bradbury Award from the Los Angeles Times, the Bram Stoker Award, the Shirley Jackson Award, the Jesse Jones Award for Best Work of Fiction from the Texas Institute of Letters, the Independent Publishers Award for Multicultural Fiction, and the Alex Award from American Library Association. He is the Ivena Baldwin Professor of English at the University of Colorado Boulder.

Book preview

Of course they shouldn’t have been doing it.

That was half the fun.

Victor boosted Jenna over the tall, solid fence—like she hadn’t grown up scrambling over half the fences in East Texas herself?—then climbed it himself, set down with both boots at once like this junkyard was theirs. For tonight, at least.

Jenna took his hand and they ran down the main aisle to the fourth row on the right. Just like they’d scouted that afternoon, the Camaro was right there where it should have been.

Its tires were long rotted off, most of its glass gone, and there’d been a few generations of birds roosting in the passenger seat, but all Victor and Jenna cared about was that perfect, unbent hood.

Only for you, right? Jenna said for the hundredth time, fluffing her hair up, blinking her eyes fast to be sure her eyeliner was still thick enough.

Never share you, girl, Victor said, planting a kiss on her lips, and backed off, pulled his mom’s 35mm out.

Jenna told herself this was good, this was all right, he was shipping out next week, he needed something to remember her by.

And remember, I’m me, not her, right? she said, a waver in her voice she hadn’t meant to do.

Always and forever, babe, Victor assured her, and, like that, she hiked herself up onto the Camaro’s hood. The powdery rust was griming up the ass of her jean shorts, she knew, and probably painting the backs of her thighs, too—definitely her palms, already—but her boots were the same color. Like her mom had always told her, you’ve got to look for the silver lining, girl. If you squint, then the world can look a whole lot better than it does with your eyes all the way