#37 is now available in three formats: FREE if you read it on the website; $2.99 for a beautifully formatted Kindle version (you know how wonky some Kindle books can be-- this is the real deal); or you can even order a PRINT copy such as some old Miskatonic University professor would no doubt prefer to have and to hold, and depending upon his/her paraphilia, to do oh so much more in the shadow of a dark Cyclopean Tunnel of Love . . .
Copy this link and put it in your browser (Because for whatever no reason at all, my web editor is not letting me insert a URL link into the text itself)---
--- to view the free website version or get a Kindle or hardcopy. If you order the Kindle of the Print version through this link, some money goes to the eZine, so do it that way, unless you hate the eZine and hate me and you are like a crack addict who has had some crack but not quite enough, and so you're like a cranky crack addict all day. Good day, sir, I say to you!
But I still beg you go to Amazon.com to order directly.
SEXUAL CONGREES WITH TREES?
SEXUAL CONGRESS WITH TREES! Good God man, what's wrong with you? I dunno . . . What's that called medically? And then, sex with DEAD trees, such as the PRINT copy of this issue . . . Well I've leave that to the experts (do any exist? If not I shall have to invent them for a story sometime). There are some great contributors this issue, guest-edited by my fairly long-time pal Aaron J. French.
Go take a peep at the TOC at least, it costs nothing to check it out. I'm sorry, that was rude, who am I to tell you what to do with your life. Please accept my apologies.
NEXT UP: more on I CAN TASTE THE BLOOD, Coming from Grey Matter Press in August and featuring John F.D. Taff, Josh Malerman, J. Daniel Stone, and Joe Schwartz, and a schmuck named me.