Mostrando resultados por autor "Stephen Donald" en Todas las categorías

He's tall, lanky, flabby and sloppy, and his taste for women is low and vulgar. Bernie has one thing going for him, however, for he is prodigiously endowed as a man and he has a thing for ugly women. They dote and fawn over him and Bernie wallows in it all, much to the disgust and morbid curiosity of his co-workers, who have labeled his penchant for love's baser side "Bernie's Thing". Nobody knows how he does it, but all concede Bernie's success when, once every month, he arrives late at work with a new and noxious female companion hanging from his arm. Many women will say “size doesn't ...

Not everyone in war-torn Europe believed in bigotry and hatred. A few human beings remained, hidden and camouflaged within the guise of Nazism and fanaticism. This is the story of one such old man, a railyard, and tiny scraps of paper drifting on the wind, each bearing a desperate last message from the dead. This really happened. It didn't have to happen, but it really, really did.

Lucky to survive the circumstances of his birth, he learned to make the most of a life that might have killed a lesser person. In fact, he learned to thrive. Via crime, he improved himself to the point of obtaining a college education, an enormous bank account, and a veritable army of minions. He proves the road to hell is not always paved with the best of intentions. This is the story of his downfall and ultimate fate. Nobody escapes.

On a brilliant fall afternoon, a powerful blast of energy erupted from the cosmos, burned across the solar system, and laid waste to every living thing on Earth. Notice was short and defense impossible. From the lowliest to the loftiest, none survived. This phenomenon, they called the Radiance. Curiously, however, none died, either. Instead, thereafter the hapless victims of that unavoidable catastrophe wandered the planet in a discorporate, ethereal state of existence. This, they called The Lingering. In time, as the effects of the apocalyptic radiation dissipated through the course of ...

Hunted runaways fleeing bestial keepers across a desert wasteland. Bound for Sanctum. A boy named Manga. A girl named Heaven. Each a patchwork monster born of strap and stitch and scar, bestially abused but unbroken. Unbeaten. Not so badly undone that they have forsaken their sense of humanity. For they have yet to abandon all hope. This is their struggle. In love. For freedom.

At over one hundred years old, Grandma Moses is one of America's last true, living witches. Sold into apprenticeship as a young girl and extensively schooled in the black arts, she can solve most human problems with a potion and a spell. Though she never accepts money for her services, nothing is free, and the cost rises with the value of the result. Approach her with caution and be prepared to pay! Grandma Moses lives alone near the swamp, her only company all the slimy, crawling things that flop, splash and slither there. Her reputation is as black as her soul, and her powers are prodigious.

He drives a specially modified Snow Cat, shuttling roughnecks to the wildest gas fields on Earth, which are situated along a frozen peninsula in the far northern wastes of Siberia. For decades, he has simultaneously battled the elements and violent bandits, but he must now confront the most difficult test of his life. After a global catastrophe, he is perhaps one of the last men left alive, but he survives with the hope that somehow his young daughter is waiting for him on the far side of the globe. It's the end of the world, but it's not the end of “Lucky Thirteen” or its tenacious ...

Klis would be their first failure and it would mark the end of their conquest. When the first Mongol envoy entered its city walls, he offered its citizens the same thing Mongols offered every conquest - tribute or extermination. Its city inhabitants would refuse the former to brave the latter and they would survive. Mongol hordes once marched from the Far East into Europe. There, they encountered their first breaking point at the fortified city of Klis.

Deep within the guts of this world, men and women struggle daily to deliver fuel to feed ravenous industry. It is dangerous work. Indeed, this is a story about fire catching in a coal seam buried deep underground, where a dozen lives hang, choking, in the balance. Regardless of color, creed or religion, hard-rock miners work together as one to avoid perishing individually and alone down in the dark where the devil dwells.

Everyone loves a good joke, but nobody enjoys being subjected to the fun. Pranks are an especially childish form of delight, perhaps because they are the ultimate expression of prurient sadism, which we must disavow as civilized adults. We, the same civilized adults who teach our beloved youth the art of warfare while stockpiling an obscene surplus of thermonuclear weapons. Now that is funny! So, tease a guilty moment to titillate your secret sadist today. Giggling, it whispers. Of spoiled affluence and nothing better to do; of grotesque victimization that makes monsters from innocent ...

A silly titmouse once sang sweetly to describe love as “a many-splendored thing”. Perhaps this is so. For some. For others, love’s terrible spectacle shines in its many violent twists and unexpected turns. Each feckless angle of its affection or disaffection invariably leaves a disfiguring blemish that renders exquisite facets of character from alternating impacts of tragedy, disaster, triumph and ecstasy. Too briefly, desire’s artistry sparkles the amazed eye with a fateful brilliance before fiery passion fades to leave its victims cold and trembling in its wake. Steal a secret ...

Within realms of the unknown, superstition stalks. Primitives see god in a rainbow, but they also suspect a deadly serpent beneath every unturned stone. Ignorance and fear sometimes unite to inspire us or spare us, but more often this demonic duality serves to light the torches of enraged mobs. Indeed, history tells stories of witches burned alive amid great celebrations. We know these things happened. We also know witchcraft is a figment. Fearlessly now, step away from the staid, known world that shelters you. Venture into lands of conundrum and enigma to witness ciphered matters of mind. ...

Disinfectants, detergents, insecticides, fungicides, herbicides and homicides – everything a human being needs to clear his or her lot and start fresh in life, clean and pure, and it all waits at the press of a finger. Some of us love a good disaster, but we watch from a safe distance and it always happens to someone else… somewhere else… never here. Never us. Distended bellies and skeletal children are always the misfortune of others. Stop and wonder why. Your preferred answer no doubt leaps easily to mind, but the truth is probably quite different, because pestilence comes in all ...

He's the proverbial grumpy old man and he ruthlessly keeps his hit-lists. You had better hope he never jots your name down in his notebook, because he'll make you the object of his obsessive ire and his dissatisfaction is notoriously relentless. Unfortunately, today is his last day on Earth... and god just made the list!

Born into a wealthy family, Mercy Worth will enjoy every privilege that unimaginable riches can provide, but she will never know love. Her hair and eyes as dark as a starless night sky, from her first day on the planet she is unnaturally watchful and observant. Her intelligence is alien and terrifying, universally unnerving to all except her legal guardian. A tall, brooding attorney, he will watch over her rise to power with both fear and covetous jealousy as he becomes convinced she is the Biblical Satan. No baby was more beautiful than Mercy, in pink. No toddler was more darling than ...

In the first days of the zombie apocalypse, a military physician and small team of survivors must gather their wits, their weapons and their available resources to make a last stand. When nowhere seems safe and no-one seems immune to the rapidly spreading disease, they must choose a destination that is both attainable and sufficiently remote to assure their long term safety. It's a sheer stone tower standing alone over a remote frontier, as iconic as it is forbidding. It is also the location of humanity's last stand. Do zombies climb?

His heritage long since withered pitifully beneath shadows of boastful legend and shades of neglectful disregard, he will claim the familial patriarchy many years before his dying grandfather can fully prepare him for its dangers and demands. His reign will begin as it must end, with violence and a vast letting of blood. Between these mortal bookends of his life, expect a torrential flood of gore, all of it bound to follow the swell of a first, single drop.

A compendium of three original novellas, this is the true-to-life horror story of a boy born without a name into a lifetime of loss, suffering and sorrow. Bestially abused throughout his formative years, the boy has the appearance of a patchwork monster by the time he arrives at a notorious desert orphanage in Pecan County, Texas. Ostensibly intended to alleviate and soothe the misery of such children, he quickly discovers that Parker House is instead a diabolical nightmare of neglect, exploitation and sadism. There, the boy will travel new realms of torment in the company of his sadistic ...

Denizens of Watami are more human than human. Though ‘normal’ citizens hysterically fear them as obscene chimeras, the pastoral Nascosi way of life embraces principles of passivity and altruism to selfless - some would say ‘suicidal’ - extremes. When a deviant dictator determines to exploit these deep-seated genocidal animosities for political gain, he finds the peace-loving Nascosi ‘morphs’ to be easy targets and convenient scapegoats in promotion of his sinister designs. Since Nascosi refuse to defend themselves, they will ultimately disappear into the vaporous anonymity of ...

Mothers no longer name their sons ‘Adolph’. Almost everyone knows why. Though all innocent babes do not develop into monsters, all monsters develop from innocent babes. We prefer fiction to reality, because thoughts of the former easily yield to denials of reason, while the latter only reminds us of our common origins in the primitive. Steal a private moment now and listen to your inner voice. It whispers. Of rising mutant domination amid apocalyptic wastes; of grotesque human chimeras practicing ancient arts; of despicable capital criminals kept in unbreakable cages and of the flawed ...