St. Martin's Press, 1992, cover art Merritt Dekle

Your Health Is Your Only Treasure.

These words buoy Mike as he recuperates in Thermalene, the shell of an abandoned turn-of-the-century spa. Pitched from a speeding Cadillac when the deal went bad, he has come to this haven at the edge of his life.

The waters here are said to heal. But in this Oregon desert all is dry and dead - and Mike will be too, unless the waters' powers are for real.

The desert souls and parched dreams within this book are real and frightful, and demonstrate the exceptional literary prowess that has made K. W. Jeter one of today's most important young writers.

"Jeter is a writer who resists categorization in genres obsessed with categorization, and there is a steely consistency in the worldview through which his fiction is filtered. It produces novels which are densely textured, bleak but with a saving note of grace, and edged with razor-sharp sarcasms generated by a refusal to accept genre tropes, to take shared assumptions at face value." - Paul J. McAuley

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