The Bookstore

Lechery, debauchery, total annihilation―the usual stuff as two prime movers contend for power. Not power to do anything in particular―threaten, coerce, destroy: illuminate a city, tighten the skeins of a siege engine, or wind up the bowels of a child’s clockwork toy―just power to have around. Just in case. Just the familiar, reassuring bulge of potential, there to quiet unease was not much to ask. But who to ask?

—The Return of the Orange Virgin from Platterland

Capt. Futvoye Halfnight, F.R.S, popped his dropped eye into its socket. “Ahh.” What he saw ahead was not reassuring. “Ohh...”

A great gnarly man was leaning against a tree and staring at him. He was naked but for the skin of a tiger which he wore nonchalantly over one shoulder. “You pilgrims should carry rearview mirrors. You leave an inventory of lost lesions and dropped appendages all over the landscape,” said the man.

—Two of Swords from Platterland

A woman popped out of thin air beside me. She was swinging a serious looking cavalry saber; She gave me the once-over and attacked. I ducked. Her pale gray eyes grew huge. “Oh, terribly sorry, old chap. I thought you were someone else,” she said. “Are you still alive?" I said yes. “I say, good fun, what?” she remarked. A bullet zinged past and we dived under the desk.

—Mark Twain in Milan from Platterland

Giant bumblebees prowl thick wisteria; vines knot to frame a lovers’ bower. Before the foreground, hogging the floor, lies a toppled faun, his lips curled in a sneer of passion. At his side is a sawed-off fluted plaster column with a shattered capital nearby suggesting old ruins. I could not bear to throw the stuff out. Some day someone would want to be photographed with a leering, panting satyr.

—The Tirewoman Gabriel from Platterland

« less

“Arrgh! See me neck, lad?” The mark of the hangman was stamped on Theophrastus Bigelow's throat. “They give me a good twist, they did.” Bigelow succumbed to gales of laughter. “I didn't die from the drop; I swung and strangled, me laddy-buck. Whadda ye think o' that?” The Pirate's great black beard, curly and perfumed, he wore tucked into the waistband of a deep-cuffed, red velvet coat. Whatever young Randy thought did not matter to the pirate. He seemed to think Randy was expecting him.

“I think it's rather nice that you didn't die all at once,” Randy said.

—The Runaway Bungalow from Lost in Willipaq ²

“YO, BABE!” a man's voice blared at Grenadine McKenzie, “SURPRISE, YOU'RE PREGNANT.” The face digitized, fell apart, then reassembled itself. A line of empty pixels ran across a tanned chin. One eye twitched. “Gotta go. Kissy-kissy.”

― E Pluribus Human from Lost in Willipaq ²

Insects are nothing new to horror fiction, but Hunter elevates this tale above the standard fare with engaging characters, keen POV shifts, and a quirkiness of style that makes the outcome most satisfying. While the dénouement was inevitable, it left me with a devious grin on my face. Impressive.

—Marshall Payne on Song of the Rice Barge Coolie

I loved “Facelift” and hope I haven't lost it to another market by taking too long to get it. It's like “Ghost World”, “Only You Can Save The Universe”, and “Welcome to the Dollhouse” mixed together. Teen angst, comics / sf geekdom, and Pratchett / Holt / Fforde lunacy in one package.

—Robert Moriyama, Aphelion Short Story Editor

I kept getting drawn back into the manuscript (The Year They Invented Frozen Lemonade). I picked back and forth through it for approximately six hours. It 'works' like a rather interesting puzzle. While I'm not sure that I solved said puzzle, I also suspect that it may not necessarily need to be solved to be appreciated (and this may be part of the story's strong appeal to me.)

—Michael R. Colangelo, Fiction Editor, The Harrow

Click here to buy from Amazon.com, here to buy from the author.

« less

Literature, like enoki, should not be wasted on children. Fortunately there is no question that Magnetic Betty, another effort by Rob Hunter is literature. For one thing, its cover does not proclaim that it's word choice is level appropriate, or class specific or meets any other double entendrè friendly rubric. This means that this volume is not approved by the Global Council for Excessive Explanation of Pointless Innuendo's Dumb Down Project (GCEEPI:DDP). This relieves all serious adults of any responsibility to attend the remainder of this review. Now, for the rest of us: Yes! Rob Hunter has done it again! He has added a highly polished small industrial diamond to the crown wrought by Carroll, Sendak, Thurber, and a few others. Too few others for our own good. With the omelette pan I join in giving this book a full “zoop!”

—Martin Langeland, writing on Dum Luk's

The highlight this issue, for me, is Magnetic Betty. Terrific story.

—Heath, writing on the Nautilus Engine Forum

« less

The Thin Man delicately digs a little finger into his ear. “When you have an itch it means someone is thinking of you.” Libby has heard this. “Myrna Loy, I mean. You will see her soon.”

“If somebody bites you on the ass it means they are thinking of you, too, dear Libby. Eventually the Earth will fall into the sun,” says The Thin Man.

—The Ninepatch Variation

“I have never been in Hell before. There are a lot of dead folks, I imagine.”

“Yes.” The Guardian's eyes glitter, a warm paw touches her elbow. Libby wants to jump away but feels this could be interpreted as bad manners. Orange irises close to slits as the creature smiles, displaying sharp white fangs. “First time visitors always jump; I won't be put off.”

“First time visitors...”

“Some come back.”

—Chimaera Constant

“The past is rewritten daily by those who were not around at the time, sanitized by the growing feebleness of its surviving participants. Were you there? I was.” In the Book of Life, Libby realizes, the answers are not written in the back. She must make them up as she goes along. The past is not subject to change and therefore better organized than the present…

—Libby Pease

The Quilter Who Went to Hell—coming in 2012

« less