Black Is the Devil's Rainbow: Tales of a Journeyman

Hollywood has made a star of Todd Pickett. But time is catching up with him. He doesn't have the perfect looks he had last year. After plastic surgery goes awry, Todd needs somewhere to hide away for a few months while his scars heal.As Todd settles into a mansion in Coldheart Canyon--a corner of the city so secret it doesn't even appear on any map--Tammy Lauper, the president of his fan club, comes to the City of Angels determined to solve the mystery of Todd's disappearance. Her journey will not be an easy one. The closer she gets to Todd the more of Coldheart Canyon's secrets she the ghosts of the A-list stars who came to the Canyon for wild parties; Katya Lupi, the cold-hearted, now-forgotten star for whom the Canyon was named, who is alive and exquisite after a hundred years; and, finally, the door in the bowels of Katya's dream palace that reputedly open up to another world, the Devil's Country. No one who has ever ventured to this dark, barbaric corner of hell has returned without their sould shadowed by what they'd seen and done.Mingling an insider's view of modern Hollywood with a wild streak of visionary fantasy, Coldheart Canyon is a book without an irresistible and unmerciful picture of Hollywood and its demons, told with all the style and raw narrative power that have made Clive Barker's books and films a phenomenon worldwide.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Coldheart CanyonBy Clive BarkerHarperCollins PublishersCopyright ©2001 Clive BarkerAll right reserved.ISBN: 9780060182991Chapter One"Your wife did not want to look around the Fortress any further, Mister Zeffer?" Father Sandru said, seeing that on the second day the middle-aged man with the handsome, sad face had come alone."The lady is not my wife," Zeffer explained."Ah..." the monk replied, the tone of commiseration in his voice indicating that he was far from indifferent to Katya's charms. "A pity for you, yes?""Yes," Zeffer admitted, with some discomfort."She's a very beautiful woman."The monk studied Zeffer's face as he spoke, but having said what he'd said, Zeffer was unwilling to play the confessee any further."I'm her manager," he explained. "That's all there is between us."Father Sandru, however, was not willing to let the issue go just yet. "After the two of you departed yesterday," he said, his English colored by his native Romanian, "one of the brothers remarked that she was the most lovely woman he had ever seen..." he hesitated before committing to the rest of the sentence "...in the flesh.""Her name's Katya, by the way," Zeffer said."Yes, yes, I know," said the Father, his fingers combing the knotted gray-white of his beard as he stood assessing Zeffer.The two men were a study in contrasts. Sandru ruddy-faced and rotund in his dusty brown habit, Zeffer slimly elegant in his pale linen suit."She is a movie star, yes?""You saw one of her films?"Sandru grimaced, displaying a poorly-kept array of teeth. "No, no," he said. "I do not see these things. At least not often. But there is a little cinema in Ravbac, and some of the younger brothers go down there quite regularly. They are great fans of Chaplin, of course. And there's a...vamp...is that the word?""Yes," Zeffer replied, somewhat amused by this conversation. "Vamp's the word.""Called Theda Bara.""Oh, yes. We know Theda."In that year -- which was 1920 -- everybody knew Theda Bara. She had one of the most famous faces in the world. As, of course, did Katya. Both were famous; their fame tinged with a delicious hint of decadence."I must go with one of the brothers when they next go to see her," Father Sandru said."I wonder if you entirely understand what kind of woman Theda Bara portrays?" Zeffer replied.Sandru raised a thicketed eyebrow. "I am not born yesterday, Mister Zeffer. The Bible has its share of these women, these vamps. They're whores, yes; women of Babylon? Men are drawn to them only to be destroyed by them?"Zeffer laughed at the directness of Sandru's description. I suppose that's about right," he said."And in real life?" Sandru said."In real life Theda Bara's name is Theodesia Goodman. She was born in Ohio.""But is she a destroyer of men?""In real life? No, I doubt it. I'm sure she harms a few egos now and again, but that's about the worst of it."Father Sandru looked mildly disappointed. "I shall tell the brothers what you told me," he said. "They'll be very interested. Well then...shall I take you inside?"Willem Matthias Zeffer was a cultured man. He had lived in Paris, Rome, London and briefly in Cairo in his forty-three years; and had promised himself that he would leave Los Angeles -- where there was neither art nor the ambition to make art -- as soon as the public tired of lionizing Katya, and she tired of rejecting his offer of marriage. They would wed, and come back to Europe; find a house with some real history on its bones, instead of the fake Spanish mansion her fortune had allowed her to have built in one of the Hollywood canyons.Until then, he would have to find aesthetic comfort in the objets d'art he purchased on their trips abroad: the furniture, the tapestries, the statuary. They would suffice, until they could find a chbteau in the Loire, or perhaps a Georgian house in London; somewhere the cheap theatrics of Hollywood wouldn't curdle his blood."You like Romania?" the Father asked as he unlocked the great oak door that lay at the bottom of the stairs."Yes, of course," Zeffer replied."Please do not feel you have to sin on my account," Sandru said, with a sideways glance."Sin?""Lying is a sin, Mister Zeffer. Perhaps it's just a little one, but it's a sin nevertheless."Oh Lord, Zeffer thought; how far I've slipped from the simple proprieties! Back in Los Angeles he sinned as a matter of course; every day, every hour. The life he and Katya lived was built on a thousand stupid little lies.But he wasn't in Hollywood now. So why lie? "You're right. I don't like this country very much at all. I'm here because Katya wanted to come. Her Mother and father -- I'm sorry, her stepfather -- live in the village.""Yes. This I know. The mother is not a good woman.""You're her priest?""No. We brothers do not minister to the people. The Order of Saint Teodor exists only to keep its eyes on the Fortress." He pushed the door open. A dank smell exuded from the darkness ahead of them."Excuse me for asking," Zeffer said. "But it was my understanding from yesterday that apart from you and your brothers, there's nobody here.""Yes, this is true. Nobody here, except the brothers.""So what are you keeping your eyes on?"Sandru smiled thinly. "I will show you," he said. "As much as you wish to see."He switched on a light, which illuminated ten yards of corridor. A large tapestry hung along the wall, the image upon it so gray with age and dust as to be virtually beyond interpretation.The Father proceeded down the corridor, turning on another light as he did...Continues...Excerpted from Coldheart Canyonby Clive Barker Copyright ©2001 by Clive Barker. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

About the Author

Clive Barker is the bestselling author of twenty-two books, including the New York Times bestsellers Abarat; Abarat: Days of Magic, Nights of War; and The Thief of Always. He is also an acclaimed painter, film producer, and director. For twelve years Mr. Barker has been working on a vast array of paintings to illuminate the text of The Books of Abarat, more than one hundred and twenty-five of which can be found within this volume.Mr. Barker lives in California. He shares his house with seven dogs, three cockatiels, several undomesticated geckoes, an African gray parrot called Smokey, and a yellow-headed Amazon parrot called Malingo.

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