That night the first frost of autumn struck Tucker's Grove. It crept up from the ground, snaring the fragile roots of plants. It emerged from the air, etching its signature on window-panes. A portent. The year was nearing its end. Things would die soon.
Kevin J. AndersonAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: March 27, 1962
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I am two women: one wants to have all the joy, passion & adventure that life can give me. The other wants to be a slave to routine, to family life, to the things that can be planned and achieved. I'm a housewife & a prostitute, both of us living in the same body & doing battle with each other. The meeting of these two women is a game with serious risks. A divine dance. When we meet, we are two divine energies, two universes colliding. If the meeting is not carried out with due reverence, one...
Paulo Coelho
What’s your name, lad?”
“Newton. Newton Pulsifer.”
“LUCIFER? What’s that you say? Are ye of the Spawn of Darkness, a tempting beguiling creature from the pit, wanton limbs steaming from the fleshpots of Hades, in tortured and lubricious thrall to your Stygian and hellish masters?”
“That’s Pulsifer,” explained Newton. “With a P. I don’t know about the other stuff, but we come from Surrey.”
The voice on the phone sounded vaguely disappointed.
Neil Gaiman