A full five swords! Key to Havoc is a major work of fantasy by a major author. -J. Crispin-Ripley, KnowBetter.com
4 STARS! Once again, Mr. Anthony creates a complex world unlike anything we might imagine. Though he uses elements recognizable from previous books, they are recombined in a fresh way. Honesty and frankness are as much a hallmark of his work as magic, so you may blush a bit, for he leaves little to the imagination. Yet, you will be laughing and turning the pages rapidly as well. -Amanda Killgore, Scribes World
Key to Havoc is the first book in a projected five-book series, all involving a rather peculiar solar system, and the denizens thereof. Vivid and Void, star and black hole, rotate about one another, fomenting chaos in the twin planets of Charm and Counter-Charm. Literal fomentation in this case-much as Jupiter wreaks havoc on Io, causing it to constantly be in flux, Charm and its twin are covered in volcanoes. Magical color-spewing volcanoes. I loved the book. I didn't want to see it end. And so-a strong yes. It's quite worth reading. Executive summary: familiar yet new setting. Big book, big world, big ideas. (Something old, something new, nothing borrowed, something blue...) Buy this book. Please. I want to find out how the series ends, dang it! -David McGrath, 2003
ChroMagic is a brand-new epic fantasy series from the Master of Fantasy and Best-Selling Author Piers Anthony. Mr. Anthony is best known for his wonderful Xanth series with its creative magic, colorful characters, fantastic monsters, and of course-the Puns! But beware! ChroMagic is not Xanth! It is an adult-oriented epic fantasy thriller from the imagination of Piers Anthony.
King Havoc does not have long to relax from the missions detailed in book I before he finds himself and his companions on a new set of quests. Sent by the Red Glamor to recover the ikons that match the various Glamors, Havoc, Gale, Ennui, Symbol, Throe, and so on must journey across Charm undercover on the most dangerous expeditions yet. They will have to get so close to the volcanos that spew magic that death is the price of failure. Though costly, their efforts are not without reward. New friendships are forged, and beyond that, the truth is within grasping distance. Havoc and Gale may finally learn exactly who and what they are, and why they are. Chroma continues to fascinate, making readers anxious for the final book in the trilogy to be published, and hopeful that like Mr Anthony's previous "trilogies" it becomes something longer. Changelings don't only attract fellow characters, they draw the readers to themselves as well. —Amanda Killgore, Scribes World
A new highlight in my library! I didn't know Piers Anthony was even writing this series of books but when I found the first book in the series and read it, I had to have the second. After having finished the second, I can't wait for the third. The characters develop before your eyes and you need to know what is going to happen next. It is one su prise after another to keep you guessing. If you love to read Piers Anthony books, this series is a must read. —James M. Consugar, February 2004
Shortly after the planet Charm was colonized 1,000 years ago, Earth finally suffered World War III. Almost everyone was destroyed and those remaining fell into a barbarian society when technology was lost. To prevent future wars, Earth's women took control and governed with a more sensible approach.Over the next thousand years, Earth rebuilt itself to an advanced technological power again and now needed more resources for its continued existence and growth. To fulfill their needs, Earth's lost colonies must be found and brought back under control.Now Earth has sent a ship with a planet-busting bomb to reclaim the colony Charm, and it appears that the only way Havoc and his planet can survive the invasion is if his children are sacrificed as hostages.
In the other volumes of this series, hero Kelvin Knight Hackleberry had finished "Ridding his Country of a Sore" and "Joining Two," so he is now ready for "then Uniting Four," the next line of the prophecy. Unfortunately, the authors seem to have run out of ideas and have fallen back on the old device of resurrecting dead enemies. So evil Queen Zoanna from Dragon's Gold and evil King Rowforth from the alternate world (frame) of Serpent's Silver team up to take over the country. Kelvin and his father and brother stupidly stumble from one misadventure into another in two new frames; this activity keeps them out of the way while the evil duo consolidates their power. All the other good guys seem unable to do anything about their suspicions of the villainous pair, passively waiting for Kelvin to return and rescue them--which makes for so weak a plot that even the characters comment on their lack of motivation. Copyright 1990 Reed Business Information, Inc.
When his two deadliest enemies join forces to take revenge on him, Kelvin is trapped in the distant Frame World and must escape in order to save the woman he loves, who carries their unborn child. Reissue.
Extremely imaginative and sexually extrapolative, and very amusing. -- Philip José Farmer
Piers Anthony has really let it all hang out, and the results should please. -- Norman Spinrad
Pornucopia is an undiscovered classic, a hilarious, outrageous departure in erotic fantasy. Bizarre, horrific, deranged—and a lot of fun. -- Charles Platt
Prior Gross, the hero and sex object of this wild adventure, thinks his fantasies have all come true when a beautiful young woman seduces him on a public beach. She turns out to be a succubus, beginning his initiation into a realm populated by demons that are not merely horned, but horny. He encounters a perverse cast of characters that includes a satyr, a vampire, and a pair of luscious sisters, one of whom tricks him out of his manhood. So Prior Gross sets out on a perverse odyssey, taking him to a distant planet where he discovers the key to the return of his property and, ultimately, the origin of the universe itself.
When a Predator ship crashes in a frozen Russian wasteland, NYPD detective Shaefer reluctantly follows his orders to investigate, but upon his arrival a fiesty Russian female warrior challenges him to a deadly battle to claim the ship and its technology.
Something was moving across the sky above the clouds, something that glowed brightly enough to be seen faintly even through the gray overcast.
A new American plane, perhaps, testing the borders? There had been rumors for years of a craft the Americans called "Aurora" that could evade every Russian defense--but that was supposed to be invisible from the ground, flying too high and too fast to be seen.
The glow was brightening steadily, descending through the clouds and moving nearer at a fantastic speed.
It had to be Aurora, Taro thought; what else could move so fast? He had seen Russian planes many times, on patrol, on maneuvers, bringing in the men and equipment for the pipeline and the drilling sites and the pumping stations all along the Assyma section of the Yamal oil fields, and none of them had ever moved anywhere near so fast as this.
And then the thing burst out of the clouds in a ball of brilliant orange flame, washing the pale landscape in vivid color. It roared overhead before Taro could see it clearly; the air itself rippled visibly with the ferocity of the thing's passage.
It was huge, and made a sound louder than anything Taro had ever before heard, far louder than the howl of the worst storm he could remember. In its wake the air seemed warmer--but what sort of craft could warm the Siberian winter itself? That had to be an illusion, Taro told himself.
And then the thing crashed, with a boom that made the roar of its passage seem a mere whisper.
Taro turned and stared after it.
The horizon glowed orange, and again he thought he could feel heat, as if from an immense fire.
That had been unmistakably a crash, not a mere landing. If that had been the American Aurora spy plane, then it was down, and the authorities in Moscow would want to know--the long Cold War might be over, but that didn't mean the Russian authorities would pass up a chance to get a good close look at some top-secret American technology. The Russian government wouldn't mind a chance to score a few moral points against the Americans, either--a polite complaint about Americans spying on peace-loving post-Communist Russia might coax a few face-saving trade concessions out of somebody.
There might even be survivors, and a heroic rescue could be very good not just for Russia, but for Taro. He might be famous, might be taken to Moscow and given a medal or something. While he was reasonably content as a reindeer herder, he wouldn't mind a taste of city life, or at least a chance to pick up a few modern comforts.
If he headed back to the village and the radio there was working, he could contact the army squad stationed at the Assyma pumping station, and they could send out a truck or helicopter--but that would take three hours back, and at least an hour for the truck or copter to find the crash site.
If he headed for the site directly, though, he judged that he could reach it in an hour and a half to two hours. If there were injured survivors that extra hour or two might be crucial. If there were valuables to be salvaged, he wouldn't mind getting to them first rather than merely guiding in a bunch of soldiers.
He set out across the ice, walking straight toward the orange glow and abandoning his hunt. His lost reindeer would keep.
In the Siberian cold anything would keep.
After he had been walking for a little over an hour Taro began to notice the warmth more than ever. At first he still told himself it was his imagination, that he was dreaming that cookfire heat; after all, the glow had faded away, and he was steering now by more ordinary landmarks. He couldn't really be feeling any heat from the downed aircraft, not when he was still, so far as he could judge, about two kilometers away, and when the craft had been down for so long.
Ten minutes later, though, he could no longer deny it; he was sweating in his heavy furs. He threw back his hood, and meltwater dripped down his brow.
He blinked it away and stopped in his tracks.
He was still a kilometer or so from the long, crooked ravine that cut across the icy plain, but he could see it ahead. That wasn't what troubled him; he had known the ravine was there. No, he stopped because the ice between himself and the ravine didn't look right; it glistened, not with the hard crystalline glitter it ought to have, but with a slick wet gleam.
Taro frowned, took several steps, then carefully knelt down. He put a gloved finger to the ground, then picked it up and looked at it.
The tanned leather of his glove had darkened with moisture. The ice was wet.
He wasn't dreaming the heat. It was real.
He didn't like that at all. A thaw in the Siberian winter? Something melting the permafrost? Even the American Aurora superplane surely couldn't generate that much heat!
The rifle he carried on his back was rarely used. He had it not because he really needed it, but as a mark of status among his people, a reminder that his grandfather had fought the Nazis in the Great Patriotic War. There were few predators to defend against out here on the ice, either human or beast; the stories of wolves prowling the vicinity dated mostly from his grandfather's time and might just be the lies of old men who wanted to reaffirm their own claims to manhood when they could no longer act as men.
Taro had on occasion fired the rifle in celebration, he had fired it several times in target practice, and twice to put injured reindeer out of their suffering, but he had never used it in self-defense. He had never had any need to defend himself with anything more than words or fists.
Now, though, he pulled the weapon from its fur-lined sheath and checked it over carefully. It seemed to be, as always, in perfect condition.
With the rifle ready in his arms, he advanced cautiously toward the ravine, careful of his footing on the melt-slicked ice.
The thing that had fallen from the sky in a fireball had landed inside the ravine ahead, he realized. He frowned. He knew that crevasse; he had lost a yearling there once. It was a long, narrow, rocky canyon; in the summer thaws it carried a trickle of meltwater north to the sea. In winter it was as dry and frozen as anywhere else, but too wide and deep for the snow to bury it completely.
The edges of the canyon were treacherous--drifted snow and built-up ice would extend out beyond the supporting rock, and a man or reindeer who got too close might well tumble in and be unable to climb back up the icy sides.
If the fallen object was down there, any investigation would be difficult. Taro frowned and slowed his pace.
Something flickered, just at the edge of his vision. He turned, startled, and brought the rifle to bear...
On nothing. There was nothing there, just the empty plain of ice.
Taro blinked and thought he saw a shimmer in the air somewhere to one side. He jerked the rifle over a few centimeters, thinking he must have caught a reflection on the ice--but a reflection of what?
Then a light sparkled, three moving dots of red that skittered across the ice almost too fast to follow, then skimmed up his body and settled onto his forehead, the three of them wavering about until they settled into a tidy little triangle. Taro could feel them as tiny spots of warmth, could see the red beams, but he could not make out where they were coming from, could not think what they could be. They seemed to be coming from a patch of empty air.
Then something flared blue-white, lighting the snow on all sides, and Taro knew no more.
In this explosive tenth volume, Tempus and the Stepsons abandon the war-torn city of Sanctuary--as vicious rivalries emerge from the rubble. The fate of the city hangs in the balance as the struggle for power begins.
TWO weeks had elapsed since Mr. Farris had been held for the grand jury. He had been at liberty on bail. The girl, against whom there had been no charge, had been held, virtually a prisoner, in a home for erring women that she might be available as a witness when needed.
The dreaded AI's have regrouped in an alternate universe and are preparing to launch their invincible fleet. But war weary humanity refuses to accept the threat as real. Commodore J'Quel D'Trelna has been secretly ordered to enter forbidden territory to find the only weapon that can stop the AI's from overwhelming his universe.
-This is an excellent novel. It came on me as a surprise, and it knocked me out!- -Harlan Ellison -Greg Bear is one of the freshest writers to break into the science fiction and fantasy field in many a year.- -Dragon Magazine
In a theocratic world far into the future, cities control their own movements and organization. Constantly moving, growing and decaying, taking care of every need their inhabitants might think of, the cities have decided that humans are no longer a necessary part of their architecture, casting them out to wander in the wilderness and eke out a meager subsistence. To the exiled humans, the cities represent a paradisiacal Eden, a reminder of all they cannot attain due to their sinful and unworthy natures.
But things are beginning to change. People are no longer willing to allow the cities to keep them out, choosing instead to force an entry and plunder at will. The cities are starting to crumble and die because they have no purpose or reason to continue living without citizens.
One woman, called mad by some and wise by others, is the only human allowed to inhabit a city. From her lonely and precarious position at the heart of one of the greatest cities ever, she must decide the fate of the relationship between human society and the ancient strongholds of knowledge, while making one last desperate attempt to save the living cities.
"The ugliest truth, in the end, was still better than the prettiest of lies." So says Will Klein, whose search for his missing and allegedly murderous brother, Ken, leaves him doubting the actions of everybody he's ever loved.
Eleven years ago, Ken fled his family's suburban New Jersey neighborhood after Will's ex-girlfriend, Julie Miller, was raped and strangled. The Kleins eventually convinced themselves that Ken perished on the lam. But as Will discovers, the facts are not so simple. On her deathbed, his mother tells him that Ken is still alive. Then Will's girlfriend and "soul mate" disappears too, only to have her fingerprints turn up at a New Mexico homicide scene. How are these tragedies connected? And what's their relationship to the recent appearance of a contract killer known as the Ghost? With help from an abused ex-hooker, a former white supremacist turned yoga guru, and Julie's younger sister, Will finds himself in a tightly twisted plot that turns on double identities and misplaced trust and that forces him to dig for the courage he was always sure he lacked.
Although the premise sounds much like that of Harlan Coben's last book, the acclaimed __, and the books' ingenuous protagonists are nearly interchangeable, Gone for Good quickly establishes its separate but equally suspenseful identity. This is a tale of manifold deceptions guaranteed to show its readers up as suckers, and to make them love every moment of the experience. --J. Kingston Pierce
From Publishers Weekly
"We never forget our first love. Mine ended up being murdered." Newcomers and fans alike will know they're deep in Coben country with the author's ninth book, in which a counselor of runaways with his own history of broken hearts and death finds himself caught in a web of lost identities, forgotten nemeses and smoldering grudges. Will Klein was a nice Jewish boy from a nice Jersey suburb until his ex-girlfriend was found strangled next door and his brother became an international fugitive. Eleven years later, as his mother succumbs to cancer, Will gets the deathbed confession that his brother, Ken, is alive; around the same time, his girlfriend, Sheila (herself a runaway with a "murky past"), disappears and a neighborhood psycho called the Ghost resurfaces. Will is yanked into an FBI investigation via his friend Squares (a yogi whose forehead tattoo carries multiple meanings), which jumbles up the aforementioned cast of characters with another mystery occurring in the Midwest. True to form, Coben keeps the plot twists coming fast and furious, and readers will give up trying to guess the outcome quite early on; yet the book's entertainment value lies less in its plot than its characters. From the New York streetwalker Raquel ("Many transvestites are beautiful. Raquel was not. He was black, six-six, and comfortably on the north side of three hundred pounds") to Belmont, Neb.'s Sheriff Bertha Farrow ("Murder scenes were bad, but for overall vomit-inducing, bone-crunching, head-splitting, blood-splattering grossness, it was hard to beat the metal-against-flesh effect of an old-fashioned automobile accident"), this title delivers.
Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
Al zijn hele schrijversleven publiceert Remco Campert met veel succes verhalen en romans. Maar steeds weer keert hij terug naar zijn eerste liefde, de poëzie.In 'Credo' (1951) belijdt hij: 'ik geloof in een rivier / die stroomt van zee naar de bergen / ik vraag van poëzie niet meer / dan die rivier in kaart te brengen'. Die inzet is in Nieuwe herinneringen onverminderd aanwezig. Nog altijd omarmt de dichter het volledige leven, hij bezingt zowel oude geliefden als dierbare vrienden, en stuntelt nog hevig in het heden: 'ouder word ik wel maar wijzer / wil maar niet lukken'.Ook is de poëzie grimmig en wilskrachtig, zoals het lange 'Solo in een drankzuchtige aprilnacht.' Campert laat de poëzie niet wegglippen, en verzet zich tegen het verstrijken van de tijd.Na Ode aan mijn jas (1997) is Nieuwe herinneringen een indrukwekkend vervolg op een vitaal en ontwapenend oeuvre.
Geen scherper waarnemer dan Remco Campert, die weliswaar tot de spraakmakende Vijftigers behoort, maar nog altijd wars is van enig profetendom met de morele implicaties die daarbij horen. Wie zich bewust is van zowel 't menselijke als 't artistieke tekort, prefereert het "beganegronds rondlopen" en mijdt het elitaire. Bij het ouder worden horen herinneringen aan de (Leidseplein-) muziek die nooit voorbij leek te gaan, de onhandigheid en verrukkingen van de eerste liefde. Maar ook in zijn ouderdom weet de dichter zich nog steeds de stuntelende jongeman, aan wie de begeerde geliefde ontglipt, de stadsjongen, de straatslijper van weleer, die nu alleen niet meer zo ver kan lopen. Maar de poezie laat hij zich niet ontnemen, ook al wil ze zich van hem losrukken, ook al faalt de taal. Ragfijne zuiverheid in denken en dichten, waarbij ironie en dromerigheid mooi in balans blijven, maken Remco Campert nog altijd tot een geliefd dichter.
(NBD|Biblion recensie, Els van Geene)
SF veteran Cherryh's view of the future is unrelentingly cynical, and her protagonists are often ordinary people caught between corrupt corporations and self-serving politicians. In this sequel to Heavy Time , the heroes (and antiheroes) manage a few small victories, but the larger battle continues. All the major characters who survived Heavy Time are back, taking part in a top-secret test pilot program for the military. When Paul Dekker, probably the most trouble-prone character in SF, is seriously injured in a suspicious accident, his surly former partner Ben Pollard is called in as next of kin. While Ben investigates, rival military factions fight for control of the program, with the pilots caught in the middle. Cherryh, who evokes more tension and danger in one verbal confrontation than most writers can manage in a dozen space battles, maintains a fast pace throughout. Her abundant use of technoslang makes her prose style rather heavy going, but this excellent novel is well worth the effort. Author tour. Copyright 1992 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
This sequel to Heavy Time ( LJ 6/15/91) features the continuing adventures of "belters" Dekker and Pollard as the duo become involved in the complicated and deadly corporate politics of space. Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 6/1/92. Copyright 1992 Reed Business Information, Inc.
A time-travel adventure by the bestselling author of the Well of Souls series. Agent Ron Moosic thought he had been assigned to be the security director for a nuclear power plant--but the plant is actually a cover for a top secret project sending observers back in time. Terrorists have managed to send two of their own back to change the past, and now Moosic is after them, not realizing that they are pawns in a deadly future game. Previous publisher: Tor.
Despite a few brief, shining moments, Cherryh's (Foreigner) new fantasy novel (her latest SF novel is reviewed below) proves an overwrought concoction. After a moderately interesting foray involving Mauryl, the aging wizard who conjures a "Shaping" named Tristen, the meandering of the nearly empty-headed Shaping takes center stage for far too long. Tristen sets off upon a quest knowing neither who he is nor what he seeks. Fortuitous happenings eventually bring him to Cefwyn, a prince in line to rule the land, and to Cefwyn's wizard, Emuin, himself a former student of Mauryl's. (The villains here are of two types: nebulously motivated men and erotically minded women.) A series of escapades involving prosaically presented political machinations leads to an inevitable final battle?and to the likelihood of a sequel. Several plot threads, such as Tristen's similarity to a golem and an invocation of the "Thirty-Eight," indicate that Cherryh is leaning on texts of Jewish mysticism here, but it's unlikely that even the most diligent of kabbalists would have the patience to wade through this substandard work. Copyright 1995 Reed Business Information, Inc.
I have to admit that, until now, I have never read any of C. J. Cherryh's work. A sad oversight on my part and one that I intend to remedy. After reading just one page it was easy for me to see why Cherryh had won three Hugo awards. I fully expect her to win many more inthe future. While there are many good authors inthe field of fantasy and science fiction it is rare to find one with such a powerful grasp of the english language, or one whose skill as a world builder could set her so far above the rest of us. -- Midwest Book Review
The Call of Earth continues the story of Nafai, his family, and the few other people selected by the Oversoul to leave the city of Basilica, and their former lives. When the human refugees from a ruined Earth founded a colony on the planet Harmony, they determined that this world would not be devastated by the endless cycle of vicious warfare that had characterized human life from the beginning. They didn't try to change human nature. Instead they installed a powerful computer, called the Oversoul, and gave it the task of governing human affairs by subtly influencing human minds. That was millions of years ago. Now the Oversoul is growing weak, breaking down. It must be returned to Earth, to the master computer called the Keeper of Earth, to be repaired. The Oversoul must have human help to make that journey. But as the Oversoul grows weaker, a great warrior has arisen, stronger, smarter perhaps, than Nafai and his allies. His name is Moozh, and he is deliberately flouting the will of the Oversoul. He has won control of an army using forbidden technology. Now he is aiming his soldiers straight at Basilica, that strong fortress above the Plains. Who will stop him? Basilica remains in turmoil. Wetchik and his sons, Nafai and Issib, Elemak and Mebbekew, are not strong enough to resist alone. Can Rasa and her allies defeat him through intrigue, or will Moozh take the city and all who are in it? And meanwhile, in their dreams, the most sensitive people of the planet Harmony hear the call of the Keeper of Earth.
Fans of Chesbro's novels will relish these 10 stories'' that feature PI, ex-circus star and dwarf Roberto Mongo'' Frederickson.All but one of the stories are from the hero-narrator's 1970s period of straightforward action/mystery, although some presage Chesbro's later preoccupation with drugs and the occult,'' said PW.
It’s the year 2043 and post World War III Old San Francisco is a seedy, radioactive dive, but P.I. Tex Murphy calls it home. The women in Tex’s life are either washed up or shipping out, and this private dick is singing the lonesome gumshoe blues. Jack Daniels seems more like family everyday. Until one night at the Brew & Stew . . .Project Bluebook was the official government investigation of Unidentified Flying Objects that examined, among other things, the "incident" at Roswell, New Mexico. The official story has been told: The Roswell crash was a balloon, nothing more. Project Bluebook was closed. But the real story is that Project Bluebook became Project Blueprint and helped start World War III.How does Tex get involved? Well, he meets an old Cubana-smoking gent who’s looking for a missing friend. It doesn’t seem like much of a case at first, but then Tex Murphy has never been very good at staying out of trouble . . . and this time he’s in for lots of trouble!About the AuthorAaron Conners is the scriptwriter and co-creator of the multimedia interactive games Under a Killing Moon and The Pandora Directive. He lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.Now available as a full cast audio drama from Design Sound Productions.
The Summer of Love is a fading memory, the Cold War rages on, Richard M. Nixon is barely holding onto the Presidency, and the dead are returning to life.
Five friends on their way to a week at Lake Tahoe, a Vietnam veteran in Sacramento trying to get home to his daughter in New Mexico, an older couple idling in a dusty shop in the hills, and a dangerous man who has spent twenty years preparing his strange family for the end of the world.
As civilization collapses, these scattered survivors cross paths, and the hungry dead are the least of the horrors unleashed.
Those who die will walk. Those who live will hope for a quick death, and they will.
PRAY TO STAY DEAD.
For an extended preview, download the FIRST 150 PAGES here:
Mason James Cole is the pseudonym of an apparently mild-mannered conservative type who doesn't want his family and friends to know he writes stuff like this. His boring but lucrative job keeps him on the road five months out of the year, and that's when he watches scary movies, reads scary books, and writes scary stories. He smiles and nods through church every Sunday and secretly votes Green. He lives in Farmington, Utah.
Praise for PRAY TO STAY DEAD:
"A brutally entertaining collision of zombie thriller and grindhouse action. Not for the faint of heart!"
Jonathan Maberry, New York Times bestselling author of Patient Zero
"This guy Mason James Cole knocked me back on my heels. I've read a lot of zombie books over the last few years, and frankly, I thought I had seen it all. It seemed like nothing could shock me anymore. But Pray to Stay Dead delivered on all fronts. It's got all the raw emotional violence and brutal gore one would expect from a zombie book, but those things are only the surface of this tale. Underneath, Pray to Stay Dead possesses an elegantly simple style of storytelling that I haven't found since my first encounter with Jack Ketchum. Mason James Cole is that good. Read Pray to Stay Dead, and then pray this guy writes more soon, because he's the real deal."
Joe McKinney, author of Dead City and Apocalypse of the Dead
PRINT IS DEAD is a new line of top-quality zombie novels brought to you by the critically acclaimed indie publisher, Creeping Hemlock Press. Each title is available in both paperback and e-book format.
GEORGE A. ROMERO ON PRINT IS DEAD:
"These guys know more about the undead than I do. and that's saying something, because I've been hanging out with zombies for as long as I can remember."