It’s nigh impossible to get a good, complete story from a comic these days without first shelling out a lot of money. Most of the serials put out by Marvel and DC are so steeped in continuity that it’s a chore for new readers to jump aboard. And even the books put out by DC’s mature-readers imprint Vertigo, or independent publishers like Image, are so far along in their respective series that it could take a hefty amount of time and cash to catch up. Thank goodness more and more companies are pumping out new one-volume graphic novels. Here’s a look at three recent notable releases that give readers plenty of story for a less than princely sum.

Since making his debut a few years back with the slickly designed and politically-charged graphic novel “Channel Zero,” creator Brian Wood has gone from being a creator with a cult following to a comic book rock star. Wood is currently writing “DMZ,” an ongoing series for DC Comics/Vertigo, as well as two limited series: “Local” for Oni Press and “Supermarket” for IDW. Into that mix comes “The Tourist,” Wood’s latest graphic novel.

Published by Image Comics, “The Tourist” takes place in a small Scottish town along the North Sea. An enigmatic, scruffy-looking dude named Moss wanders into town, flirts with the owner of the town diner and starts picking fights with locals. In other words, he blends right in. But Moss isn’t a dirty American tourist—he’s a Special Forces soldier who’s gone AWOL and turned to drug smuggling. As Moss becomes more attached to the town, he’s more hesitant to go through with his plan. That is, until the rightful owners of the drugs Moss stole roll into town, looking for Moss and their pilfered goods.

“The Tourist” is a good book, but it’s one of Wood’s weaker efforts. That’s because it feels like half a story. We don’t know much about where Moss came from—he waxes nostalgic about his New England hometown for much of the book, but that’s all we get—and without a back story, there’s little purchase for the reader to identify with the character. True, “The Tourist” does carry a definite mood of melancholy (aided nicely by Toby Cypress’ art) and missed opportunities, but all the unanswered questions amount to too much of a distraction.

Meanwhile, there’s “Full Moon Fever” by Joe Casey and Damian Couceiro. Taking a page from “30 Days of Night,” the graphic novel about vampires in an Alaskan town plunged into darkness for a month, “Fever” is about werewolves on the moon. More specifically, it’s about a team of astronauts/plumbers fighting said werewolves.

The concept alone is enough to get anyone to pick up “Fever.” It fits in perfectly with the rest of the books put out by publisher AiT/PlanetLar, all of which seem like they could go to Hollywood in an instant. “Fever” never expands much beyond its premise, though, leaving the reader to wonder what might have been if Casey pushed the story a little more. Courceiro is a capable artist and Casey knows how to write one hell of a chase sequence. It’s not as thoughtful as “The Tourist,” but it’s a bloody little pop confection that’s a lot of fun.

The best, and most fully formed of the three is “The Nightmarist,” written and illustrated by Duncan Roleau and published by Active Images. The Nightmarist first appears in the dreams of young Beth Sorensen, a depressed and potentially suicidal artist plagued with bad dreams and memories of her father’s suicide. Beth’s bad dreams start crossing over into her waking hours and before long, she finds it hard to separate her hallucinations from reality. When the Nightmarist reveals himself to Beth, he explains that she’s actually the centerpiece in a war between the mostly benevolent Ministry of Dreams and the Arbus, an evil group of demonic dream-stalkers who want Beth to serve as their queen. Leery of both sides, Beth throws her lot in with the Nightmarist, and the two race through the real world and the dream world in search of a way to keep Beth safe.

“The Nightmarist” is pretty stellar stuff. Roleau’s black and white artwork is gorgeous. He infuses the book with the feel of a Fritz Lang film, filling it with sharp, shadowy corners and a suffocating sense of paranoia. Roleau has a great sense of pacing and storytelling, teasing out Beth’s revelations about her role in the conflict between the Ministry and the Arbus, as well as the lingering issues surrounding her father’s death. Roleau’s only downfall is that he tries to cram too much into the book. The exact nature of the Ministry and the Arbus is unclear at best, although that could be due to the book’s hallucinatory nature. What is bothersome, and a bit contrived, is the inclusion of a subplot about a city-wide riot that sweeps Manhattan while Beth fights off the supernatural agents pursuing her. Though Roleau manages to tie everything together in the end, the whole riot plotline is an unnecessary addition to an already compelling story.