Wayne Kyle Spitzer

It wasn't long before Erik was sound asleep, snoring and sniffing, coughing and swallowing. They were climbing now, up the side of Mount Olive whose peak was enshrouded in a sinister gray mist. On a clear day you could see all of the Anchor Rock valley from here; not so tonight. Tonight it was but a vast pool of nearly impenetrable fog, beneath which Sheila could just make out the glowing, yellow lights of Anchor Rock proper. And she supposed she...

A story about a man and his dinosaur and the post-apocalyptic wild west. And were-raptors. He fell silent and doubled over as someone punched him in the stomach, then toppled completely as someone else shoved him. And then, suddenly, there was a cry-a cry that sounded as though it had come from Ank and yet utterly different from any Williams had ever heard. A warbling, frightened, pitiful cry-the kind an animal might make if it were sinking into...

Jonesing for a drive-in theater and a hotrod El Camino? It's the dawn of the 1970s and everything is changing. The war in Vietnam is winding down. So is the Apollo Space Program. The tiny northwestern city of Spokane is about to host a World's Fair. But the Watergate Hearings and the re-entry of Skylab and the eruption of Mount Saint Helens are coming... as are killer bees and Ronald Reagan. Enter 'The Kid,' a panic-prone, hyper-imaginative boy...

An omnibus of science-fiction, fantasy and horror stories from Wayne Kyle Spitzer, author of the Witch Doctor and Dinosaur Apocalypse series… It is raining. That's the first thing I notice, the first thing that tells me I am no longer in the cockpit. The second is that I'm bleeding-bleeding from the leg, which is making it difficult to press the attack. The third is that I'm dying-as is my opponent-dying beneath a blood red sky. "It is finished,"...

dark horse/ˈdärk ˈˌhrs/noun1. a candidate or competitor about whom little is known but who unexpectedly wins or succeeds."a dark-horse candidate" Join us for a monthly tour of writers who give as good as they get. From hard science-fiction to stark, melancholic apocalypses; from Lovecraftian horror to zombies and horror comedy; from whimsical interludes to tales of unlikely compassion--whatever it is, if it's weird, it's here. So grab a seat before...

Join us for a monthly tour of writers who give as good as they get. From hard science-fiction to stark, melancholic apocalypses; from Lovecraftian horror to zombies and horror comedy; from whimsical interludes to tales of unlikely compassion--whatever it is, if it's weird, it's here. In this issue: THE RAISING OF HESTER MACRAEE.M. Anderson QUERY LETTERRiley Winchester OCTOBER MARDI GRASMary Jo Rabe SHE AIN'T HEAVYAnthony Ferguson THE SQUARE OF STARSLaurence...

It was the first night of the Sacrificium, a night of sacrifice and death, a night when the black coins tendered in the Lottery would be tendered back. It was also the Hora Mille Semitis, the Hour of a Thousand paths-for that is the day the Sacrificium had fallen on this year-the hour when best friends might become enemies, when lovers of longstanding might betray oaths, the hour in which anything and everything was possible. And the alignment was...

dark horse/ˈdärk ˈˌhrs/noun1. a candidate or competitor about whom little is known but who unexpectedly wins or succeeds."a dark-horse candidate"Join us for a monthly tour of writers who give as good as they get. From hard science-fiction to stark, melancholic apocalypses; from Lovecraftian horror to zombies and horror comedy; from whimsical interludes to tales of unlikely compassion--whatever it is, if it's weird, it's here. So grab a seat before...

I watched as Aaron approached one of the workbenches and fetched an intricately-crafted gold box."Ah, yes. The shem, you see, is what gives the golem its power-thank you, son, a sheynem dank. It is what gives it the ability to move and become animated."I glanced at Aaron, who only looked back at me uncertainly, as his father approached the golem and opened the box, the gold plating of which gleamed like a fire before the candelabrums. "This one consists...

From The Fields Tinged with Red:"Mm." He spat for the first time that morning and looked out over the green fields. "Any sign of our friend?""Not hide nor sickle-claw."But Teddy had focused on something; something out by the freshly painted barn (which nonetheless leaned precariously; a result of the hurricane-like winds that had attended the Flashback, no doubt), and frowned. "You sure about that?""What do you mean?" Nick followed his gaze but saw...