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I. Steam This dream is always the same, because it’s also a memory. She sits near the end of the dock, her delicate frame perched on a small black cooler, her back to him, her face to the sun. The day is brilliant, early summer light off the water

Damn thing could have sat on the man’s front porch since afternoon the day before, there was no way of knowing for sure. When the days got dark early, the drinking started early and Lou didn’t see sun or sense until the next morning. So that’s when

By four o’clock, Kris is clean out of fucks to give. It’s the Friday preceding spring break. There’s no aftercare today, no other underpaid employees to push her last few kids off on. The parents either forgot or don’t care. Kris reckons she’s absolved of

After turning the washer dial to the heavy soil setting, she shook her head and spoke to the laundry basket at her feet. “I can’t believe this is still happening. At your age, honestly,” she said. “I know, Mama.” Behind her, a shadow shifted in the hall. She could

Andre de Corcy cursed under his breath as the charcoal split in his hands, smudging the rubbing of the sarcophagus seal. It was his fourth copy, so the mishap was hardly surprising if still inconvenient. He needed a half a dozen in all, some to be sent back to Paris

The angry roar of heavy metal screamed from the amplifier at ear-bleeding decibels. Kip Daniels stood nearby, his fingers expertly navigating the fretboard of a blue Ibanez six-string guitar. He paused, letting the last of the grungy notes echo throughout the garage studio, his long blond hair matted to a

Prologue It had started with the funny feeling in her belly. There was a day, not too long ago, when she was just Sheila Goolsby, and her belly didn’t ache, and she weighed not much more than Tad, her husband, who was overweight but not so much overweight as

From time to time, murmurs and mutterings concerning the carnival spread amongst the houses of town like an unseen plague This signals the carnival’s imminent arrival. The carnival returns to town from the shadows of the backroads in random unknown intervals, except in certain dreams. Always presenting itself under

It wasn’t the time of the call; Blake was used to that, and he was a light sleeper - call it the nature of the job. When the call at 1AM is from your doctor, that raised both eyebrows. Blake wasn’t sick, and his next physical was over