We have lots of treats this week.
“Through Thy Bounty” by Lucy A. Snyder
“The Finger” by Matt Hults*
Articles by Lavie Tidhar and Adrienne Jones.
Interviews with Adrienne Jones about her new book brine and a fan-driven Q&A of Apex author Jennifer Pelland.
All can be found right here: http://www.apexbookcompany.com/apex-online
*The story by Matt Hults is the first of a [...]
McClure’s Kramer & Zondi novels are wonderful. They display the ugly reality of Apartheid almost without comment. The irony is in the spaces, in the things not being said – and they can be both horrible and very, very funny. The humour is almost never absent, even when the reality is truly horrifying, and it’s what makes McClure’s novels such good reads.
Books made of asbestos, money, and floppy disks.
When will Horror come back? Why did it go away? Is there a Horror renaissance? What is Horror? Do you care about Horror as much as I do? No you don’t. Yes I do. No you don’t. Yeah? Yeah! You wanna take it outside? Let’s go!
We present a new short story titled “In the Seams” by Andrew C. Porter. It’s a bit of Lovecraftian madness in the coal mines of Kentucky.
Lavie Tidhar continues his search for the Titanic Omar. Adrienne Jones…well…she keeps writing about creepy stuff.
Come look!
It might be worth terming this The Hollywood Butcher School of Book Handling, and it has some illustrious graduates, premier amongst them, Angelina Jolie, who does a good job of murdering hapless books in Tomb Raider, another case of someone-who-should-really-know-better. Never mind. Let Hollywood murder its set props. Just leave the real books alone.
What I did not expect to see was the almost perfect first edition of The Subtle Knife sitting demurely on the shelf, sandwiched between Dick Francis and Jilly Cooper in an unholy manage-a-trois.
Have you heard the one about the priceless book that went down with the Titanic? It’s a story book collectors tell, or at least I’d like to think they do. Once there was a priceless book and it sank with the Titanic, and it is under all that water still… I suspect any serious book collector would have given up his place in the life-boats to get hold of that book. If it exists.
It began, the way these things usually do, with a rain of frogs.
It was Moshe who found the tablet. They were working in the hole, the three of them, army shirts discarded for short-sleeved tops. They had been working for hours, knowing that tomorrow they could be fighting again, could be dead or wounded in a country that wasn’t theirs, and happy for a chance to be free in the open air.
