The Story

Alright, buckle up, because Contes d’Amérique isn’t one story — it’s a bunch of wild short tales that jump around 1860s America. Louis Mullem writes like a detective at a campfire, describing the places he’s been and people he’s met — real fake tough guys, card sharks with secrets, a dude who walks through a blizzard, a guy who follows a rabbit into hell. Expect ghostly lights spotted near forgotten gold mines, vigilantes (literally named the Forty Thieves) roaming the desert, and one woman who uses a saber. It all adds up to a mashup of cowboy myths, frontier horror, and the clashing of worlds — Natives, settlers, guns, gold.

Why You Should Read It

What hooked me wasn’t the action — it’s how Mullem might be twisting your arm the whole time. Most of these stories *feel* like confessions, like he's drawn directly from a diary. One minute a farm is filling up with green-glowing biscuits; the next a street in Virginia City trips headfirst into Cthulhu. That weird, offbeat tone just nails that feeling when you’re somewhere new and nothing makes sense at first. There’s this uncanny rawness to it — rowdy humor, but here and there a moment that stabs you quiet. You really feel America back when everything was messed up and bigger than life. Kids are dead serious, adults are invisible until they’re messing you up. Good tension.

Final Verdict

If you liked *The Call of the Wild* or *Firelle*, or if you just want travel tales that hit you wrong (like reading a broken candy dial that speeds you through old goldfields but maybe leaves some ghosts at your table) – this one is yours. Actually, I’d bet mid-read you’ll push the book into a friend’s hands immediately.

Perfect for: old-west horror fans, or readers who thought Sherlock Holmes needed a super specific American back country secret sociopath phase. Yeah. That kind of tone. Treat yourself for a cheaper commute fun.