http://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/ The Return of the Orange Virgin audio podcasts Creative Commons by-nc-nd robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:49:10 GMT Wed, 25 May 2011 15:19:48 GMT Absolute RSS Editor http://www.rssboard.org/rss-specification 1 Rob Hunter yes Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fiction Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard... The Fata Morgana was not expected to kill her lover. Still, the idea was not unattractive. It was just one of those thoughts that came to one. Like checking under the bed to see if life had coalesced from the dust balls, or “when my nose itches someone is thinking of me.” She stopped to scratch her nose. All 30 chapters, a serial novel first published online. Creative Commons by-nc-ndRob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,FictionArts/Literaturerobhunter@onetinleg.comRob HunterSubscribe with PodnovaSubscribe with NewsGatorSubscribe with NetvibesSubscribe with PageflakesSubscribe with My Yahoo!Subscribe with ODEOSubscribe with GoogleSubscribe with PlusmoSubscribe with The Free DictionarySubscribe with Bitty BrowserSubscribe with Live.comSubscribe with Excite MIXSubscribe with WebwagSubscribe with Podcast ReadySubscribe with WikioSubscribe with Daily RotationThe Return of the Orange Virgin was first published online as a serial novel―32 monthly chapters lofted over three years (2006, 2007 and 2008). During a lengthy writing process I had raided the manuscript for ideas and characters for short stories. And the stories were being published. Hence, an all-round revision seemed the only proper way to treat a Lady. Some suggested that I was wasting time more properly set by for chasing dust bunnies around the spare bedrooms. And here's a hearty, manly handshake for the persistent readers who stayed with the original Orange Virgin during its first web upload. Thanks for your patience; you folks kept me going. The inconsistencies, logical absurdities and plain-out wrong-headedness demonstrated by the author have been lessened, expunged and/or excised as The Orange Virgin was conflated to fit inside the covers of Platterland, a collection of tales released in late 2010. By their nature, the stones did not get around much, but they had compensated by evolving a great pride of place. Black basalt they were, striped with travertine, an outcropping of the world spirit—fashioned plumb, square, and true—and stacked perhaps at the pleasure of a backwoods warlord to keep the cows out of his celery and the neighboring feoffers out of his wives.<img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/orange_virgin/audio/~4/gCIrdooiTuA" height="1" width="1"/> robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) http://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/index.htm Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:49:04 GMT 00:05:56 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/orange_virgin/audio/~3/gCIrdooiTuA/index.htmhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/index.htmhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/prolog.mp3 Harry Pease has heard the call of the Fata Morgana, Lady of the Wild Things―a goddess, ancient and dispossessed. A late vocation from a religion long forgotten: this Harry decided to keep to himself. It all began when Marcus Hanrahan called to say there was beer in the refrigerator and the pigs were waiting. He and the wife and the Hanrahan kids, whose pets the pigs had been, would be at the mall... robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 55812D40-E176-40D7-BB42-DFCFBFC9BFCC Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:48:54 GMT 00:11:40 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_1.mp3 The Queen of Heaven, Orange Virgin, Fata Morgana, etc., etc. shuddered as the first pig died. On the Other Side, the strain of the sacred pig was breeding true again. And she had not known. How and when does a pig know it is holy and dressed in the raiment of joy? A new pig, a pig of the ancient line, not yet self-aware until the revelation of the final, fatal flash―the pig and its killer knotted in their mutual innocence. "One gets out of touch... I am explaining myself. This is all wrong." robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 67E0E09A-3DF6-483D-A9E3-628F65F0D8A2 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:48:49 GMT 00:31:05 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_2.mp3 Biff Bangtree backed out of the buttery, his pockets full of doughnuts. Biff Bangtree was not yet his name, since Morgana had neglected to call him anything. That he have a name was not a vital component of their lovemaking. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) DCDE8A62-0513-477C-8C44-09A7D595ABE1 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:48:43 GMT 00:08:02 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_3.mp3 At the tip of an eyelash a tear formed, glistened, and fell to the empty channel far below. The tear caught Morgana quite by surprise. Tears have their own reasons. She observed its downward spinning through the mist, the tear’s coiling descent a path that circled in against itself. The mechanics of its fall changed it from a tear to a sphere, turning the crystal pearl over and over in its flight, examining it as if for flaws. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) BEA3199E-31FF-4B5D-87C9-025C72AF3307 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:48:39 GMT 00:15:22 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_4.mp3 Joyce Gladstone, librarian, at an age when the obituaries were the first item turned to in the paper, avoided that page, apprehensive lest her interest precipitate another vanload of books. Sometimes the thought of Harry Pease and his collection of Popular Mechanics and Playboy magazines stalked her nights, interrupting her blameless sleep. She dreaded finding Harry's name listed among the newly dead. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) CC21A3B6-70ED-4F4C-8DCC-837574084D05 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:48:31 GMT 00:11:53 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_5.mp3 "You have an admirable facility for understatement, goddess. What you have just witnessed and cannot remember is the end of everything and a new beginning―the Big Bang. Yearnings, struggles, joys: all the paradigms, apotheoses, covetousness, sloth, envy, etc., along with dandelions, cabbages, butterflies―the hotel reservations and weekend painting projects of a googolplex of individuals are over, caput, finis―sucked through the eye of Eternity’s needle, pushed out backwards on the other end, and here you are. Simple, really." robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 17D7DADF-B5E0-4F21-8538-FD34D36D6292 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:48:20 GMT 00:24:41 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_6.mp3 Home from her cosmic tête-à-tête, the Fata Morgana addresses Sarabande, Superintendent of plantings and the Herbarium. "Sarabande, I know this is becoming tedious for all of us, but you are not the Sarabande to whom I last spoke, are you? I mean you are truly beautiful and there is that in the curve of your mouth and the shape of your ear, the very turn of your hair―the way it exposes the notch, that tiny irregularity at your widow's peak when you tie it back like that. You are Sarabande?" Kneeling in the fresh spring mud of the greensward, Sarabande ruins her gown―"...the one to whom you spoke was my great-great-great-grandmother." robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 59CD236B-BA4F-482F-BA9C-AEB0286BF32D Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:48:10 GMT 00:10:38 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_7.mp3 In the cellars of the Queen three stone heads grace the capital of a buried pendentive. The heads are malign at first glance, a dead craftsman’s nightsweats and horrors: vaguely a Cow, a Goat, and a Manticore. Mineral deposits have whitened the Goat’s tongue and striped his head so that his tongue appears to have paused in the fastidious licking of an ice cream cone. The Goat’s dead eyes are rolled back, hollow stone pupils positioned to stare up the kilt of any passing visitor. In former times he had been out-of-doors and his gaze was heavenward, away from the temptations of the earth and the flesh. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 542A45BA-3AA0-430F-960A-7993930DBD39 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:48:00 GMT 00:06:45 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_8.mp3 Pen Harrington has disappeared into the cellars of overnight radio, a lover of night nurses and truck-stop waitresses. To those up top in the sunshine who might think of him the consensus is that the best thing about Pen Harrington is Prince―big, loving, gentle and not too bright. Where Pen goes, Prince goes, and preferably by car. Prince sits in the passenger's seat giant and yellow, and mostly Labrador retriever. Prince sleeps and dreams of a cow stuck in a wall. The stone head looks down and nods wisely. It has a secret. "I know who you are," says the Cow. Prince raises a leg. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. I am a sphinx. Cleopatra loved me." robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 3F670855-B0B1-44D8-B83A-85B05E0F045A Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:47:50 GMT 00:22:22 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_9.mp3 Wherein Pen Harrington and Prince meet the Fata Morgana at a bus stop. With none of his master’s inhibitions, Prince walks up to the goddess and sticks his nose between her legs. "Prince..." A low, happy glottal rumble as ears are scratched by the exciting, wonderful woman. More tail-thumping and the nose is firmly back in place. "...I knew introductions would be in order. Prince and I are going to be close. Very close. Call me Maggie." robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) A507F12F-F0B4-4842-8CB8-0EEA5193FF69 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:47:40 GMT 00:14:44 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_10.mp3 There is a heterodyning squeal and Biff looks to the radio receiver. "This is today’s lesson, study it well. You will do daring things." The voice of the Fata Morgana is inside his head. An urgent baritone fills the room: "And now... Dolby Jenks, Space Ace, brought to you by Chocolate-flavored Ovaltine..." robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) CE7C4823-0A25-496D-B431-34ABBF8BCAAA Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:47:30 GMT 00:14:10 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_11.mp3 The stones of the Fata Morgana’s castle are black basalt, striped with travertine―an outcropping of the world spirit. The stones get little satisfaction from the flickering, fluttering life dwelling in the spaces they define. Nor are they particularly quick-witted even by their own lights, and their thoughts, when they think at all, are particularly tedious, for not many decisions are required of them and they take the long view. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) BC5904FE-CE82-4563-A90F-C9AAB43E274A Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:47:20 GMT 00:35:32 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_12.mp3 A chips and nachos conglomerate is introducing Pork-A-Dillos, a low-cholesterol fried pork rind product, the latest scientific breakthrough. Linda Winkelman, priestess-designate of the Fata Morgana, has been named project manager for the new product's test marketing; if it flies she will be in line to direct the national campaign. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 7EB30113-0D5B-4A42-BE27-4765D2B538BC Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:47:10 GMT 00:19:54 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_13.mp3 Wherein the Manticore, indifferent to the guises of chopped liver and salmon with herbs, quests through a spectacle of glittering implements―steel, iron, tin and aluminum, quarts, gallons, missionary cauldrons, runcible spoons, shirers, boilers, broilers and basters, colanders, ewers, forcemeat forms, pâté molds, sieves, lids and ladles. Fluted tin forms braided like the innards of a mollusk’s abandoned husk await gelatin confections, larding needles languish for a loin of pork. A shelf of ceramic rabbits awaits their pâté masquerade. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) F7EE8952-16B4-4C48-88AF-BB1765273FB9 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:47:00 GMT 00:14:20 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_14.mp3 Wherein a spinach quiche is mentioned and the Manticore becomes impaled: “I say, are you stuck?” asks Biff Bangtree. He crouches to behold a creature made up of many other creatures: porcupine, man, lizard, eagle, scorpion. We likewise meet the Wise Child and the Destroyer―aspects of the Fata Morgana. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 987DC869-A53C-4F0C-8E3D-9F63B8257CB6 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:46:50 GMT 00:42:01 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_15.mp3 Wherein Biff, Morgana and the Manticore go prospecting for a priestess in peril. It is Christmas in New York, a time of tinseled windows and slush coming over the tops of transparent plastic rain boots. Linda Winkelman carries them in her gym bag all year long and even sensible one-inch heels are too much for them. A wide-bodied Checker cab spins into the taxi stand at the corner, trying to use the parking lane for an illegal turn to catch the light at 33rd Street. A spray of brown slush stipples Linda’s panty hose all the way to the knee. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) C462CA97-6431-4826-9088-B296E45EA347 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:46:40 GMT 00:23:28 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_16.mp3 Wherein Linda Winkelman meets El, the sky-demon: “I got all dressed up for the Visitation. You are the instrument, the vehicle, if you catch my meaning, of a meeting of vast teleological implications. At this very moment, even as we speak, so to speak, the emanations of the demon-queen of Sumer and Babylon are invading your persona.” Her kidnapper toggles her head back and forth. “Hotsy-totsy, Morgana. You in there? We’ve been expecting you.” robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) BBE0E96D-8D10-4406-A0AD-75E6903FE626 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:46:30 GMT 00:10:00 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_17.mp3 Wherein Harry Profitt Pease browses the refreshments table. This evening is the regular illustrated lecture—a slide show—at the Valiant Trust Memorial Institute Free Library. Harry turns to see a pig hop up on the window seat next to Alma Nightingale, claiming a warm depression vacated by Joyce Gladstone, the librarian. Harry stares. The pig is a spotted china with a tight brushy tip to her tail that hinted at purebred bloodlines. “You wouldn’t have a cabbage left in your truck, would you?” the pig asks. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) F3437522-EA73-47A1-BC79-EBC36A327B71 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:46:20 GMT 00:11:35 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_18.mp3 Wherein Harry and the Fata Morgana introduce themselves: “You are a pig,” Harry observes. “And you are a dirty old man. Don’t belabor the obvious.” The pig rummages in the truck’s glove box and, coming up with an archival Mars bar, settles herself comfortably in the passenger’s seat. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) DBEBC2E3-13A2-41D1-B977-BEE4CD605233 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:46:10 GMT 00:21:06 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_19.mp3 Wherein the Orange Virgin and El the sky demon confer in the sub-cellars of the Hotel Taft. The hotel cat carries in a still-twitching mouse and lays it at Morgana's feet. “Someone at least remembers who I am. Pardon me, I must share this well-intentioned offering.” Morgana sits cross-legged, facing the cat with the mouse between them. “To you it is religion, to the cat it is lunch, and religion will wait.” The Queen of Heaven bites the head off the mouse and hands the remains to the cat. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 7619EDF5-6988-486F-AF70-DE568CA3F73E Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:46:00 GMT 00:18:08 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_20.mp3 Wherein the Queen of Heaven checks her rear end to discover a curly pink tail at the base of her spine, while the Manticore meets Linda Winkelman: “You will have to pardon me, but I'm not used to impromptus. Ta-Dah!” There is a smell of ozone, the flickering of blue and pink letters. WELCOME TO THE NEW JERSEY TURNPIKE. REDUCE SPEED APPROACHING TOLL PLAZA says a neon sign. “A regular touch of home,” says Linda. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) DD4C68BF-3C59-49B8-8060-531C0581BD73 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:45:50 GMT 00:15:40 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_21.mp3 Wherein we meet Libby Pease, Harry's sister, and discover why lime jello with embedded chicken parts and an aerosol whipped topping is a favorite bring-along for covered dish suppers. Likewise Cousteau McClonaghy, proprietor of a flashing blue neon sign, EAT. Respect for his namesake has him keep fish frys Fridays at the diner long after Vatican II. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) A57E82A1-8A2B-4EF9-9715-BE45383038F4 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:45:40 GMT 00:28:01 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_22.mp3 Wherein we learn that Harry Pease entertains visitors from other planets. Whether Harry has actually seen and talked with them is hard to pin down, but on one thing he is adamant: sojourners from the astral planes make his place a regular stopover on their passage from wheresis to whatever. He has seen their spoor: strange messages on the uninhabited channels of his TV, usually in the early morning hours when the decent, Christian stations are turned off. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 3EC96C38-10E1-4124-9F54-4B3C2F3F413E Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:45:30 GMT 00:27:28 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_23.mp3 Wherein Harry Pease discovers all is not as it seems: “Your voice. It reminds me of Lauren Bacall,” he tells the spotted pig. And the Orange Virgin speaks to Harry’s health and welfare: “Your death, immediate and terrible, is no longer on the menu. I forget people have feelings, too. I had planned something modern and deliciously psychopathic for you; you should be flattered. Like chopping you into little bits and flushing you out to sea. Pardon me for being brusque—these are my little ways.” robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 1BD71D45-D670-4DF1-9A54-BC0CB7977136 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:45:20 GMT 00:29:29 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_24.mp3 Wherein molecules rush in to fill the space so recently occupied by Tom Winkelman, one third of a kitchen table, and a laptop computer. The Poet offers sustenance: “Corn whiskey―make it myself. God only knows what the proof is.” Tom has jumped into the clear air of a Europe untouched by Huns, plague or industrial revolution to land in a haystack, a guest of the Queen of Heaven. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 55508038-AEC1-466A-AEAF-84F159FC91BF Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:40:00 GMT 00:13:45 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_25.mp3 The house has a storybook air to it, a short ground floor and a steeply thatched roof―whitewashed animal dung and straw with an occasional fieldstone for accent. Tom Winkelman remembers seeing something like it in brochures for picturesque vacations. “It’s like dying but with regular mail service,” remarks Valerie Hatt. “There’s a village five kilometers upstream and through the woods. Or leagues, versts, miles. Depends on who's walking. Weights and measures are pretty unpredictable here.” robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 2CFC377A-2B5D-442D-BBFD-14BE3484DCD4 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:39:50 GMT 00:19:20 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_26.mp3 Wherein a heavily-armed woman strolls in through the shredded remains of Cousteau’s Salada Tea screen door; her introductory burst of automatic weaponry showing no respect for cooperative advertising. She is packing more firepower than the National Guard and looks very much like a wronged woman on a tear. “The absent wife,” says Pen, referring to Valerie Hatt, somehow transported from Morgana’s Languedoc village. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 286B0D14-C9A9-498D-807C-EC5B15998536 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:39:40 GMT 00:19:01 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_27.mp3 Wherein the Fata Morgana decides Linda Winkelman, priestess, is an unnecessary clutter. Please don't be angry dear reader, for we have reached that time in Linda’s story arc where we have to bump her off. Anyway, the idea of missing out on Tom’s dumplings makes Linda disproportionately cheery about her impending death. She drops her gym tote and rummages through its pockets. Doesn't she have a bottle of Midol somewhere? robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) F74DB847-202B-42F2-8CDF-0BA2DB2D2F4C Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:39:30 GMT 00:10:49 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_28.mp3 Wherein a patrician beauty dances open-mouthed, taking short frequent breaths—more, surely, than are demanded by the exertions of the dance—her eyes rolled back to the whites in a stylized gesture of sexual anticipation which her escort must notice. The escort notices, but he is busy covering his back. Both preoccupied, they spin on woodenly—dancing around an object of which they must never speak, whose existence must never be acknowledged. robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) 3198F3E7-0153-4AE5-89F7-EFC5BF25F75E Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:39:20 GMT 00:12:16 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_29.mp3 Wherein The Fata Morgana, Queen of Heaven, etc., etc. ponders the past: “Times and places change, not faces. Here I have accomplished something so stupendous, touching the unborn for millennia to come, and there is nobody left on stage but me who knows just what the hell happened. Some congratulations are in order. The child, Biff Bangtree, will be well.” The Fata Morgana smiles a secret smile. “I have things, ahh... arranged.” robhunter@onetinleg.com (Rob Hunter) C94AFDFF-57D1-4EB4-9AC1-190757C12532 Mon, 08 Nov 2010 12:39:10 GMT 00:18:42 yes Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...Rob HunterShe was the Fata Morgana, Queen Mother of the World, and had built herself a love slave to assuage the lonely days. A handsome piece of work if she did say so herself―wide of shoulder, slim of waist, courteous, considerate, quick to restoke and deferential even when spent, a comely dream of passion fit to set mortal pulses pounding no less than hers. Not human and yet not of the gods, his discretion was guaranteed for at night she simply turned him off. But it was too easy―a household appliance, one would have hoped for more in a lover.Rob,Hunter,Fantasy,Speculative,Speculative,Fiction,Slipstream,Magical,Realism,Science,Fiction,Fictionhttp://www.onetinleg.com/morgana_novella/audio/chapt_30.mp3 en-usRob HunteradultSomewhere, something incredible is waiting to be heard...