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Issue 5

Contents:

Lumpen Bob The Bellyhead /A story by Michael John Grist
The Lady’s A Vamp /A story by Andy Plotkin

Body Of Lies starlet Jennifer Rouse interview

Small Science /A story by Dempsey Wilson
Idolatry /A story by Brenton Tomlinson

Horror As An Art form? / a column by Jack Burnett

In Libris Mort /A story by John Paul Fitch
The Return of the Cat People /A story by J.T. Carney

Film reviews:
Night of the Creeps / 1986
Friday the 13th Part 6: Jason Lives / 1986
Eden Lake / 2009

Flash fiction:
Ain’t Love Grand? / Austin Miller
Isabella Jenkins: Medical Transcription / Tiffany McSperitt
Editor’s corner:
Wildflowers / fiction by Iron Dave

Book reviews:
I Am Legend / Richard Matheson

Attack of the Two Headed Poetry Monster / Michael McCarty & Mark McLaughlin
Just After Sunset / Stephen King

Interview with authoress Stacia Steele
Interview with author Glynn Barrass

Special interview with the late Joseph McGee

Creepy cartoons
Classifieds

An extract

Lumpen Bob the Bellyhead
Michael John Grist

    It was 3:23 by the far-off Grammaton when Lumpen Bob the Bellyhead lopped off a chunk of rock that bled. He was cracking pumice on the northwest side of Gut-rock quarry that day, digging through an old bath-house buried in the volcanic stone. Around him some 30 quarry-ghasts scaled up and down the rock face, their tracer lines stretching out over the crag-head like a tangle of fishing line, anchoring them back to the Andesite bi-rail line at the top.
    A stub of brown flesh jutted from the pumice of the Gut-rock quarry wall. Lumpen Bob watched it for a moment, pumping blood out onto the dusty crag face, then called up to his friend Mezzler Shift.
    "Mez, ahoy lad, the Gut-rock's all a-gushing on me."
    "Eh?" called Mezzler, a stunted little dogsbody, as he slipped his tracers and dropped down in his sling to Bob's eye level.
    "See that?" asked Bob, pointing at the crimson spray spurting from the Gutrock.
    "Sweet provender," swore Mezzler, leaning in close on his tracers, "that's a toe ain't it?"
    "A toe, aye. You ever seen anything like it?"
    Mezzler shook his doggy head, long ears flapping from side to side. "That’s a toe stuck plain outta the Gut-rock wall.” He leaned back in his tracers. “I ain’t ever seen the like. It ain’t right, Bob. Reckon it's attached to a body?"
    "I suppose it must be," said Bob, touching the solid rock around it.     "But how'd a live body get into the Gutrock?"
    Mezzler scratched his fuzzy head.
    "When she blew?" he asked. "Jabbler’s Mons? Though that was a good ways back now."
    "That's hundred of years! What's he been eating and breathing all that time?"
    Mezzler shrugged.
    Bob hefted his rock cracker. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Want to help exhume it?"
    "Exhume a toe? It ain’t a normal thing do, you know Bob. But aye, I’ll lend a paw. Don't reckon there'll be much in it for us though."
    Bob nodded. "I ken that. But living folk in the rock, we can't just leave him there."
    Mezzler nodded. "Fair enough, I suppose," he said, and drew his rock cracker from its stirrup at his belt. "Let's get to it then."

First published 2008.
Copyright © copyright 2009 NVF Magazine
All stories used by permission
© David Byron 2009 / All rights reserved

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without permission in writing by NVF Magazine or Turner Maxwell Books.

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Warning: Not suitable for children

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental and may be more the work of your own imagination. Why not write a book yourself? Turner Maxwell Books are an alternative co-operative of new writers, working towards publishing inspirational literature.

Printed and bound in the United Kingdom for Turner Maxwell Books.