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

Born to the street and abandoned by his paranoid, drug-addicted mother, a young boy struggles to evade vicious predators, who hope to exploit him, and insistent authorities, who hope to save him. His only ally is his extreme natural intelligence, and his only home is the public library. Daily, the noose tightens after his mother, his last link to childhood, goes missing. His future seems as bleak as the cold, hard streets. Then he meets Longbow.

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. Thereafter the hapless victims of that unavoidable catastrophe wander the planet in a discorporate, ethereal state of existence. This, they call The Lingering.

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. Such twisted threads weave life’s strange tapestry. Of pranks, here find countless examples, and of pranksters,...

Several of the best human hypocrisies are immortalized in catechisms. We say “violence never solved anything” when history repeatedly teaches us otherwise, and once we prematurely labeled an entire, global war as “The War to End All Wars” long before we recorded its half-formed outcome. Dynasties fall. Empires rise. In marble, granite and concrete, we immortalize these events, large and small, and we celebrate the human beings named heroes there. Rightly so. Pause a moment before The Wall – let your finger trace names in stone. From pits of despair and summits of glory, they ...

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. 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. Such twisted threads weave life’s strange tapestry. Of answers, here find many startling propositions, and of mysteries, twelve.

Continuing their unlawful flight across the broad State of Texas, Corporal Terrance “Tare” McGee (retired) and his four-legged handler, Perquisite Bombdog, must evade arrest and successfully do what they need to do. Whatever that might be. Properly supplied with ample snack foods, drugs, and liquor, and having collected an endangered primate named “Bobo” along their way, they must flee south into the rugged and notoriously violent Rio Grande Valley despite their lack of ammo for Bobo’s machinegun.

Champions come in all shapes and forms. The same is true of cowards. In fact, most notable acts of heroism are not the results of well-considered, carefully laid plans. Rather, these are often spontaneous yet deliberate demonstrations of selflessness occasionally on display when normal human beings must confront life-threatening risk. Take a deep, calming breath now before you dare gaze into the face of death. Trembling, heed its heckling catcalls. Such twisted threads weave life’s strange tapestries. Of redemptions failed or delivered, here find disturbing variations, and of heroes, none.

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. Steal a secret moment now and listen to your heart. It confides. Such twisted threads weave life’s strange tapestry. Of love, here find endless variations, and of lovers, nine.

In the limitless expanse of the cosmos, intelligence need not be confined to water-filled flesh. For every form of imagination, there is an embodiment of it out there in the void. On this world in this system, everything may be uniquely alive, from the rocks to the sandstorms. Journey here to die. Or be reborn.

During the summer of 1968, the Nightland, Incorporated carnival stopped in suburban Pecan Groves, Texas to stage a one-week show. Its performances paralleled a three-man prison escape, the miraculous resurrection of a cherished young boy, and the mysterious appearance of a young lady with a potent pedigree. If the squalor of its Freak Show and the rigged games of its midway are now known only within the faded archives of history, then contemporary society is its primary benefactor and direct ancestor. We see its shadows and hear its echoes everywhere.

He is the scourge of the night, every bachelorette's worst nightmare. He has already killed many single young ladies, and he will certainly kill again. Tonight, he lingers outside the house of his next intended victim. Watching. Waiting. Every matchmaker claims there is someone for everyone. This is what happens when like evils meet.

He is an enigma and a genius. He is perhaps the greatest strategist of all time. Unable to relate to his fellow human beings, he relies upon his pieces in rank and file for all his companionship and comfort. While he plays, the bloodiest conflict in history is in an endless state of stalemate. In the end, only a mad genius can save humankind from itself, but the price for victory might be too high to pay.

A ravaged, remnant human population claims the Earth's dismal daylight hours, while bloodthirsty savages rule the night. One aging warrior struggles to take back the darkness. He fights bloodlust with bloodlust, but his most powerful weapon is a terrible one that might turn on him at any moment.

Like an onion, his plan for her conquest is multi-layered and complex. First, he must educate himself, then he must use that education to accumulate wealth. Finally, he must find a way to enter into her life as an equal. In the meantime, he can always jog alongside her in the park, just another stranger on the trail.

A contemporary incarnation of Janus, the two-faced god, Mordrake is not one man, but two, for he lives with a conjoined, parasitic twin. He is both Adonis and demon, gentleman and lunatic. He is Mordrake and Mordrake's Whisper, the former a handsome young gentleman of renown and refinement, and the latter a silent, sinister mask fixed to the back of Mordrake's head.

At five years old, Tiffy is worldly beyond her age. Her disinterested mother and absent father have not wielded much influence in her life, and she roams neighborhood streets at all hours of the day and evening without supervision. Too many children share young Tiffy's lot in life as they drift from apathy to neglect and back again, their little lives lost and void of parental intervention. Too few of them encounter an advocate like Mr. S. Will he go too far to save her?

His nickname at work, where his colleagues avoid him like a plague, is "Mr. Accident". His history is a sordid tale of endless cacophony and disaster. Death follows him like a shadow. Today, he earns his nickname with flare. Few survive their first closeup encounter with Mr. Accident.

One morning on a vacation with this extended family, all bound to watch the patriarch run his first marathon, Mortimer witnesses a terrible crime. He’s no hero. He's retired and has nothing better to do. Run, daddy, run!

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. 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”.

In a dystopian, apocalyptic future, he is the quintessential survivalist, a heartless loner. The only things that stand between him and death each day are his maxims. He relies on them to manage the violence inherent within a world gone mad, and they are as unforgiving as his soul. Then she comes along.