Female Science Fiction Writer: Collected Stories 2001-2012

By Amy Sterling Casil

These tales are like a disease―only one you would not brain catching.

Mint-addicted extraterrestrial beings. speaking horses. Little ladies in wheelchairs who get the opportunity to pilot starships. atypical little jade carvers who retailer the final nice Mayan urban by way of magic. a beautiful wolf woman who saves a teddy endure boy and her clown boyfriend's center. A well-known director who cloned herself and now's loss of life of melanoma, in simple terms she's raised her clone like a regular baby. men on the finish of the realm who observe they don't seem to be the world's maximum poet, they're approximately as undesirable because it will get.

Fourteen tales by way of award-winning technological know-how fiction and fable author Amy Sterling Casil.

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Then he became, jogging down the trail towards the good maze beside Hampton court docket. It was once a well-known position. Girard had heard of it, yet in fact, had by no means noticeable it. “Come, come,” he stated, gesturing. “Come alongside well now. ” “My Lord,” Girard stated as he trotted to take care of with the King, Phutatorius, and the mule St. Thomas Aquinas, who have been atmosphere a truly scorching speed as they entered the maze and started to wind round and round it, “I imagine there's something I should still inform. It used to be no lie this morning. The King ... you, sir... owe me loads of cash. ” with out preventing, the King stated, “Yes, I comprehend. ” Girard didn’t imagine that the King understood in any respect. He searched for symptoms of the footmen’s wain towering over the hedgerows of the maze. “I think—” he stated, then he fell silent. They’d reached the heart of the maze. And there in entrance of Girard, within the round center of the excessive privet hedge rows, was once whatever that made the wigged horse, a disguised King and a yellow mule via the identify of St. Thomas Aquinas look as usual as a draught of ale and a wedge of Cheshire cheese. the item was once as tremendous as Girard’s store in Bond road, maybe larger, and it gave the look of a silver fish, or a wierd, huge, immense piece of silver fruit, all soft and smooth and pointed on one finish, jammed deep into the grassy earth at the different. lengthy, flat triangular vanes, whatever just like the buttressed arches of a cathedral, protruded from its aspects. To Girard, it seemed not anything like a boat. It appeared not anything like whatever he’d ever noticeable, store these few unusual institutions in his brain. for a way may possibly anything made from steel be a fruit? How may possibly it's a fish? “My Lord,” he acknowledged, “what is that this factor? ” The King laughed. “The send of my stable neighbors from a land distant. Sirius, they name it. by way of accident the identify of the puppy superstar, although they are saying it's not relatively an analogous one who they arrive from. ” If there’d been any doubt sooner than, which there has been no longer, Girard knew that the King used to be completely stark raving mad. A thoroughgoing lunatic who belonged in Bedlum, chained to a wall. “They are such strong friends,” the King persevered. “I could do something for them. it really is outstanding that you've invented those mints, for they inform me that they're the main scrumptious confection they've got ever tasted. nutrition for his or her souls, they are saying. ” The King stopped to snigger a second and finger his chin. “Your pals have eaten all of them? ” Bushel after bushel. every thing Girard and his lads had made for weeks... all going one way or the other into the maw (which Girard couldn't determine) of this bizarre silver fish. The King nodded. Then he became, his gentle blue eyes packed with sympathy and challenge. “I wish I haven’t harm your emotions. For i do know that you simply idea that i used to be consuming the mints alone. ” Girard shook his head. How may possibly he gather a cent? He needed to humor the madman, for one by no means knew what anyone so lunatic might do. Why, the mild-seeming King may activate him at any second. possibly spur the wigged horse directly to run Girard down. the pony had a fierce caliber, Girard idea, regardless of the playful point supplied through the powdered wig.

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