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From the author of the “exciting, suspenseful, horrifying” (Stephen King) Fever House, a Vietnam veteran and his adopted niece hunt—and are hunted by—the vampire that slaughtered their family.

It’s the winter of 1975, and Portland, Oregon, is all sleet and neon. Duane Minor is back home after a tour in Vietnam, a bartender just trying to stay sober; save his marriage with his wife, Heidi; and connect with his thirteen-year-old niece, Julia, now that he’s responsible for raising her. Things aren’t easy, but Minor is scraping by.

Then a vampire walks into his bar and ruins his life.

When Minor crosses John Varley, a killer who sleeps during the day beneath loose drifts of earth and grows teeth in the light of the moon, Varley brutally retaliates by murdering Heidi, leaving Minor broken with guilt and Julia filled with rage. What’s left of their splintered family is united by only one desire: vengeance.

So begins a furious, frenzied pursuit across the Pacific Northwest and beyond. From grimy alleyways to desolate highways to snow-lashed plains, Minor and Julia are cast into the dark orbit of undead children, silver bullet casters, and the bevy of broken men transfixed by Varley’s ferocity. Everyone’s out for blood.

Gritty, unforgettable, and emotionally devastating, Coffin Moon asks what will be left of our humanity when grief transmutes into violence, when monsters wear human faces, and when our thirst for revenge eclipses everything else.

Don't just take our word for it...

“Just when I thought I’d read every kind of vampire novel, here comes Keith Rosson with a story that shocks and surprises. Coffin Moon is a gritty, blood-soaked tale of revenge that’s steeped in ’70s grime and grounded in authentic relationships.”
– Jason Rekulak, New York Times bestselling author of The Last One at the Wedding

“Epic, horrific, heartbreaking, and written with a punk poet’s soul, Coffin Moon reads like the pre-Near Dark, 1970s vampire novel you always wanted. Be careful what you wish for, though, because this book will leave its mark.”
– Paul Tremblay, New York Times bestselling author of Horror Movie and A Head Full of Ghosts

“Rosson expertly delivers a vampire revenge noir so thick with atmosphere and aura that you’ll feel it in your guts from the very first sentence.”
– Jason Pargin, New York Times bestselling author of John Dies at the End

Taste the very first page

Early afternoon, with bruised, ugly clouds hanging above the notched teeth of the buildings across the street, the sleet all coming down sideways, holiday lights blinking red and green in the windows of the bar. The waist-high Christmas tree in the corner done up in silver tinsel. Cold winter light on the floor. Duane Minor, alone in the Last Call twenty minutes before opening, puts ashtrays on the tables. Makes sure he’s got his lemon slices and his cherries, that the racks are stocked with clean glasses, there’s enough ice to get him through to early evening at least. A night of shit sleep gives the world a blighted, gritty cast, and he’s got Blue Oyster Cult on the jukebox in the back, turned up high enough to rattle window glass; it’s only the break in the song that lets him hear the phone ringing.

“Last Call Tavern,” he says. “We open in twenty.”

“Hello, Mr. Minor. It’s Patty Garent over at Joseph Middle School.”

Minor’s heart sinks. “Hey, Mrs. Garent. Just a sec, please.” He sets the phone down and trots over to the stereo console at the far end of the bar, lowers the volume on the jukebox. Walks back and closes his eyes for a moment before picking up the handset.

“I’m here, ma’am.” He fishes a cigarette out of the pack on the counter, lights up.

“Well, Mr. Minor, I’m the bearer of unfortunate news.”

“Ah, damn. Another fight?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say, and the girl was hurt this time. We need you to come pick Julia up and discuss the issue…”

September 2025