The website of the greatest pulp fiction writer who ever lived
Hack’s life-long belief in Santa Claus began when the madam of the brothel he worked in as a boy told him that she was Santa’s mistress, and that Saint Nick was into “rough trade” and that he would beat her sadistically on a regular basis. Hack spent the next forty years trying to track down the jolly old elf so that he could kill him.
Hack wrote this to appease all the people who were pissed off about Sex Slaves of Sex Island. It turned out they they were even more pissed off about this.
A fairly accurate account of when Hack’s reefer habit was at its worst and he became a gigolo to pay for it. When he started, he envisioned himself being put up by gorgeous millionairesses but his only clients turned out to be middle-class men who were desperate to hide their homosexuality from their wives. The novel became Hack’s biggest seller after Oprah included it in her monthly book club although since his publisher John Kane still owned the profits from the contract Hack originally signed with him, he didn’t see a penny. Ironically, he made more money as a gay hooker.
Hack didn’t learn his lesson from his earlier novel “Mother’s Day” in this misguided sequel, which the court once again found in favor of ABC in its astonishing similarity to the series The Brady Bunch despite Hack’s continued insistence that he has never seen an episode of the show. He was forced to flee to South America and spent a year in hiding as a mercenary in Venezuela before the scandal blew over and he was able to return to the United States.
This story of an suburban housewife and mother who satisfies her obsession with anal sex once a year by hiring a notorious gigolo turned out to be a phenomenal success with Hack’s core readership of sex-starved perverts in Bible Belt states. Regrettably, he was sued by ABC for ripping off The Brady Bunch (a show he had never heard of). Hack had to sell one of his kidneys to pay off his legal fees.