Haven’t you heard that it’s the tenth(+) anniversary release of Cold Brewed into print? That Mark 9 and I are re-releasing the digital version? Look, outside of scrolling, it never quite formatted well for e-readers. The iBooks version was like 5 gigabytes, so here we are, back with the scroller!
How do you support the team? Either order a print copy from your preferred bookstore:
Prefer another bookstore? Let me know in the comments.
Or subscribe and I’ll send cash on to the actors and production team:
“Hold the room for milk, what is this thing?”
Cold Brewed’s a graphic novel told in photos about an alternate history where coffee and not alcohol was banned during the prohibition years. It’s an odd duck with a lot of third wave coffee lingo — we never knew, for instance, that Adam’s roasting in his over would turn into an actual coffeeshop and roaster. Video here for the making of Cold Brewed back in 2012, you’ll see our baby faces:
https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/YVo3d_xEyzw?rel=0&autoplay=0&showinfo=0&enablejsapi=0
Without further ado, here’s the photonovel I made with Mark in my early twenties:
- Cold Brewed 001 — Hard Water
- Cold Brewed 002 — Dosing
- Cold Brewed 003 — Spent Grounds
- Cold Brewed 004 — Milker
- Cold Brewed 005 — Murder Face
previously on Cold Brewed:
“Word is there’s a new brew in town,” Milker said. “Goes by the name Bearded Lady.”
“Drum roaster?”
“Noper. Does it in huge batches. Bringing them city roasts into town.”
“Tamping the town?”
“Yeah,” Milker said.
Which of these new ladies had a big enough beard, big enough crew to run an Emerald City tamper?
Had to have come in from the city, but who was new?
Muffs?
006
Way I figured, Muffs didn’t have a big enough beard to run this tamper anyways. Way he was acting, it was all probably affecting his trade, but he wasn’t the Bearded Lady. He wasn’t tamping the town. Least not this time around. Hot water. I needed hot water to steep out the facts. A bath.
Bath. Just a regular old bath, that too much to ask? It’d help the ideas and now the knees. Probably my face too which felt like murder.
Too many steps in this city. Harder with a limp.
I stopped and stared.
“Mr. Cropper?”
I think I’d heard of him, but we hadn’t met. “Who’s asking?”
“Bud Wieden. FDA. Got a minute?”
“Got a minute?”
“Always,” I said. “Always time for the FDA. Who don’t got time for the effing D.A.?”
“Different office.”
“You’re all the same.”
“You know anything about the trade around town, Jett?” he asked. “Some say you do…”
“I bet you do, don’t you? Don’t you, Jett? What do you know? Psht,” he scoffed. “You don’t know nothing.”
I said, “I know…”
“…what I got to know to make it round here.”
“Well…” Bud said.
“…sounds like there’s a new roast in town.”
“Hadn’t heard,” I said.
“Soon as you do, you let me know, Jett.”
“Why? You worried about your little backstage drum roast going under?”
“You listen here, Jett. I know you’re dosing a—“
“I ain’t dosing,” I said.
“Sure you are,” he said.
“You doser grinders always are,” he said. “I’m bringing you in three days from now if you can’t dig up the Bearded Lady. Bringing you in for good.”
“If I find out, ain’t no way I’ll—“
“Make it two days from tomorrow morning,” Bud said, voice rising. “Then I tear your little shack apart and snatch any stash I find.”
I looked up the stairwell. “Fine.”
“Good,” Bud yelled. “Have a good night!”
“The sweetest,” I said.
Two days. Quick turnaround time. Two days, sheesh.
Maybe Bud was the Bearded Lady after all? If FDA’d bought a new industrial roaster and stuck it in the basement vault with all the evidence and civil forfeiture… city tunnels for vents. Supply lines were there.
TWO DAYS? Surely that was enough time to either pull out of town or sabatoge Bud’s work.
Getting dizzyingly crowded in town. You’d figure with all the dead bodies that a bit of space would open up, but it ain’t so. Find a body, there the vultures gather.
Free mocha on the bar and the milkers and shakes all come out of the drains to clog up the flow. Was gettin’ hard to move around town. Mocha blocked, that’s what I was.
Mocha blocked.
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Forward this one on to friends:
Haven’t you heard that it’s the tenth(+) anniversary release of Cold Brewed into print? That Mark 9 and I are re-releasing the digital version? Look, outside of scrolling, it never quite formatted well for e-readers. The iBooks version was like 5 gigabytes, so here we are, back with the scroller!
How do you support the team? Either order a print copy from your preferred bookstore:
Prefer another bookstore? Let me know in the comments.
Or subscribe and I’ll send cash on to the actors and production team:
“Hold the room for milk, what is this thing?”
Cold Brewed’s a graphic novel told in photos about an alternate history where coffee and not alcohol was banned during the prohibition years. It’s an odd duck with a lot of third wave coffee lingo — we never knew, for instance, that Adam’s roasting in his over would turn into an actual coffeeshop and roaster. Video here for the making of Cold Brewed back in 2012, you’ll see our baby faces:
https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/YVo3d_xEyzw?rel=0&autoplay=0&showinfo=0&enablejsapi=0
Without further ado, here’s the photonovel I made with Mark in my early twenties:
- Cold Brewed 001 — Hard Water
- Cold Brewed 002 — Dosing
- Cold Brewed 003 — Spent Grounds
- Cold Brewed 004 — Milker
- Cold Brewed 005 — Murder Face
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