Periklis Bozinakis was born in 1966 in Athens, and he still lives there with his family. He is one of the few, truly radical and original horror-science fiction writers nowadays in Greece, and also a devout supporter of the revolt against the international, economic and therefore psychological dictatorship at this end of an age.
His writings explore the dangers of the subconscious and the Trauma of Western Civilization: mutations of the human body and mind, cities destroyed by riots and areas haunted by technological ghosts, hidden horrors activated by human obsessions and modern science, all construct the background in which the characters confront themselves and our strange new world.
He has released three collections of short stories and a novel and has translated works of J. G. Ballard, M. R. James, George Pelecanos and Maggie Stiefvater.
His novel Steep Time was considered one of the best 8 Greek novels of the year by ‘Kathimerini’ one of the three most prestigious daily mass circulation newspapers in Greece.
In a suburb of Athens a solitary young photographer is attacked by strangers in his sister’s house. After a bloody, hand-to-hand battle he eventually kills the two invaders and his life changes radically, when discovers that the two murderers were looking for someone else and not him. A fatal mistake, a misunderstanding, is the cause for the violent overturning of his whole life.
Athens, in some vague but maybe near future…
An unsuspecting woman, journalist of medical reports, arrives in a weird psychiatric clinic to gather information about a strange patient. Unfolding his memories through his writings and works of art, she’ll discover the obsession of this isolated man with the escapement from the tyranny of time and the traumas of memory, while, along with the reader, she will confront the dark wonders of adolescence and the horror of the absolute Evil that uses the deserted centre of a dying city as its hideout. She experiences the awe of the end of Time and takes the fatal step to meet her other half, unwittingly risking her own existence.
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L’eau salée de la mer ne renvoie jamais l’image d’un visage. Son bleu étant celui des contes de fées, il ne nous reflète pas, mais peut nous entraîner dans un autre monde.