Venom

Venom (1977) by Alan Scholefield is the book you reach for when you think, “You know what my life is missing? Highly organised terror involving snakes in a nice respectable house.”

This is the Popular Library paperback edition, from that glorious era when thrillers were lean, mean and utterly unconcerned with things like ISBNs. That’s right: ISBN: none. This reptilian little nightmare predates the age of barcodes and metadata. It simply slithered onto the paperback racks and got on with traumatising readers without ever once being properly catalogued.

As sold by Crappy Old Books, the condition is proudly, unashamedly Used. Not “as new”. Not “near fine”. Not “museum grade serpent literature”. This is the sort of used that suggests it has already spent time in:

• a rucksack

• a damp holiday cottage

• and at least one “I’ll just read a few pages before bed” mistake.

You can expect:

• A Popular Library 1970s cover, almost certainly featuring alarming reptilian imagery and typography that whispers, “this will not end well for most of the cast.”

• Tanned pages, the particular warm shade of “old house dust plus faint sense of dread”.

• A creased spine, because previous owners clearly had their priorities straight: survival of the story over survival of the binding.

Condition notes, decoded:

• “Used” – people have actually read this. Possibly with white knuckles. Possibly while checking under the sofa for movement.

• “May show signs of wear” – softened corners, edge rubbing, perhaps a tiny scar where it lost a fight with a shelf or another, larger book.

• “Pages clean and intact” – no missing scenes of reptile-related catastrophe, no torn-out bits where the plot finally explains itself, and no suspicious splashes we are prepared to identify.

This is a book for you if:

• You like your thrillers contained, tense, and just a bit nasty, with the threat crawling quietly through the scenery.

• You enjoy the special subgenre of “crime plus nature being very, very unhelpful”.

• You’re fond of that 1970s paperback vibe where everything feels slightly grubby, slightly dangerous, and absolutely not like a cosy mystery.

• You’re happy owning a copy that looks like it has already been clutched through at least one entirely unnecessary adrenaline spike.

Probable reading experience:

• First chapters: “Oh, this is a perfectly respectable domestic setup, nothing to worry about at all.”

• Middle: “Ah. Right. There it is. The worrying. The very serious worrying.”

• Later on: you glance at your own living room and mentally downgrade every dark corner and radiator pipe to ‘potential snake zone’.

• Final pages: you finish, exhale, and then carefully place the book somewhere you can see it, just in case it moves.

Crappy Old Books is not pretending this is a pristine, untouched artefact from the golden age of paperback terror. This is a working copy of a sinister little novel. It is designed to be read on sofas, in beds, on trains and in waiting rooms where you really should have chosen something comforting instead.

In short:
Venom (1977) by Alan Scholefield, Popular Library paperback, proudly ISBN: none, in honestly Used condition, is a slightly battered, fully potent dose of 1970s reptile-fuelled suspense. Buy it from Crappy Old Books, steel your nerves, and maybe – just maybe – check under the bed before you start reading.

Keep browsing: See more Thrillers books Other books by Alan Scholefield