Regan Wolfrom - Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men

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Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Nine Women. Nine Stories. And nothing ordinary about them. From the slightly askew mind of Regan Wolfrom comes this collection of hilariously dark tales of love, death, and
timing.
Heather Smythe Pretty. Shy. About as lapsed as a Catholic can get.
Heather’s trapped in the a cult of killer succubi with a taste for East Hollywood douches.
(“High Times at the Sixth Annual Succubus Sisters Garage and Bake Sale”)
Amanda Hackensack Somewhat tall. Can’t dunk. Never knew her father.
Amanda wakes up in a world of voodoo and zombies that she knows shouldn’t exist.
(“The Zombification of Amanda Hackensack”)
Marguerite Frunkel Lonely. Awkward. Painfully ginger.
Marguerite finds two strange little gnomes who show her just what she’s been missing.
(“Gnome on Girl on Gnome: A Love Story”)
Laura Daniels Political outsider. Maverick. Avowed crazy cat lady.
Laura learns the sinister truth behind her unexpected electoral success.
(“The Siamese Candidate”)
Stephanie Munro Hard working. Hard drinking. Hard to please.
Stephanie comes to regret taking a trip on the edge of the world with people she knows she shouldn’t trust.
(“The Raven’s Head Dagger and the Custom of the Seas”)
Marie-Claire Grimson Pink hair. Pretty smile. Likes to eat people.
Marie-Claire may soon discover that meat is murder no matter how you slice it.
(“Vegans Are F**king Delicious”)
Maddy McKay A little lonely. A little self-conscious. Starving to death.
Maddy’s trying to slim down to starving model size, but her little housemates don’t seem all that supportive.
(“Maddy McKay and the Elves in Her House”)
Vanessa Dervoe Softball legend. Proud Yooper. Breathes underwater.
Vanessa’s strange gift has gotten her nowhere in life, stuck in a sad amusement park and surrounded by death.
(“The Ocean Goddess and The Home Run Queen”)
Kara Hermin Mysterious. Troubled. Loads of fun at parties.
Kara’s lived a long and dangerous life, and may be forced to live it all over again.
(“Born Again at Granny’s Cave”)
I’ve always been drawn to stories about women who are
, like not necessarily because of their skill with a broadaxe or their ability to toss on their nunsuit and fly over the streets of Lubbock, Texas.
These stories are about women who are thrown into situations that are completely what the f**k, and about how they work to take control of their destinies.
Oh, and
. And
, of course. And something about
. I did mention
, right?
Regan Wolfrom
Harry the Adventurous Hamster After a break from writing to attend puberty, and to eventually sell six packs of Molson Canadian to his misnamed crush, Moosehead Girl, Regan returned to the craft with reckless abandon and a gallon jug of iced tea with just a smattering of extremely cheap rum.
Regan is now the author of the
series (with only one mention — so far — of zombie erections) and the slightly less controversial
series (which, while appropriate for a YA audience, is still more likely to have
zombie erections at some point). Regan hopes to one day write a novel set on Mars while sitting in his boxer shorts on the actual Red Planet, and everything that comes before that is really just his way of saving up for the one-way trip.
Though Regan has been shafted by residency requirements in his pursuit of the MacArthur genius grant, his current fiction is considered to be of high caliber, reflecting a marked improvement in style and grammar from the aforementioned thing with the hamster. It also has far fewer graphic scenes of pound puppy plushes having sex in the back of a shoebox with paper wheels.
What does Regan have to say about Regan? For a more in-depth tour of Regan’s unresolved childhood issues, be sure to read one of his stories. From the Author
About the Author “I recently passed up the chance to hassle Samuel L. Jackson.” “I’ve always wanted to change my name to something boring, like Hugh Howey.” “I know how to cook six things. None of them are oatmeal.” “I write stories that are weird, a little dark, and definitely inappropriate for my children. It could be tough to keep that going when they get to be as old and weird as I am today.” “Oh… and my dog is in love with me… like… in a disturbing way.”

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“I think she’s gone.”

I stood up and shook his hand. He gave me a hug.

“Thanks, man,” I said. “I’ll never forget this.”

“I’m glad you came to me, Lanny. I’m glad we could help her.”

I didn’t understand why he was so damned glad about everything.

I just felt lost.

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We brought the hearse onto the ferry out of Horseshoe Bay; I tried to ignore the stares from camera-toting tourists.

We drove her to MacMillan and the giant fir trees at Cathedral Grove. We waited until the sun had set and the lot had emptied.

We took out the casket made of cardboard and cloth, and together Callum and I carried Kara into the woods. We found the place, that large Douglas Fir far off the trail, with a hole in its trunk just big enough to bury the love of my life.

After Callum had gone and come back with the shovels, we dug a little place for her in the earth that lined the floor of the hole, digging it deeper and deeper until there was no dirt left, and the shoots of the trunk came together again.

We took her out of the casket and laid her there, curled into a ball and wrapped in several sheets of plastic. We covered her with a couple feet of dirt and layered over the area with needles and some wayward leaves and grass.

I had a feeling she’d be safe there, away from the trail, buried on an island that had no coyotes to dig her out. Buried there until she lives again.

I wonder if by then they’ll have found a way for someone like me to live forever; Kara wouldn’t have wanted that, but that’s because she’s always been alone with that life, the one and only phoenix in all the world. She’s the only one to have lived on for what seems like forever after losing everyone who mattered.

Maybe the next time she wakes up I’ll be here waiting for her. And there will finally be someone else who understands just what that’s like.

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Prologue from Book One of Regan Wolfrom’s Post-Apocalyptic Series, After The Fires Went Out

Coming to eBook and Paperback on January 31, 2013

There was a moment right after the fires went out when I thought Fiona and I were the only people left for a thousand miles around. It looked as though the whole world had burned, the air around us so hot that it felt like even the water of Lillabelle Lake was close to boiling. I had trouble imagining that anyone else could have survived.

She was laying beside me on the beach, where the rocky sand was still hot like a stovetop from the fire. Her eyes were open but she didn’t really seem to see me; I think she was still in shock.

I didn’t know her name then. I barely remembered Fiona and her parents from the sea of faces at the town meetings, back when the sky was dark night and day and it felt like we were all just sitting around and waiting to see the sun again, back when I was the big man around here for some reason. I didn’t know how sweet and smart and funny she is; she was just some pretty fourteen-year-old girl who reminded me of the daughter I’d lost, and who was now just as alone as I was.

That was the moment when I promised the universe and Cassy that I’d take care of Fiona, no matter what. I thought I might be the only person left in the world to take care of her.

But it didn’t take long for us to realize that we weren’t the only ones left out here; we weren’t even the only people who climbed out of Lillabelle Lake that day.

That didn’t make my promise any less important.

For more information, please visit: http://www.reganwolfrom.com/after-the-fires-went-out/

About the Author Regan lives in Winnipeg Canada with his wife two children - фото 111 About the Author Regan lives in Winnipeg Canada with his wife two children - фото 112 About the Author Regan lives in Winnipeg Canada with his wife two children - фото 113

About the Author

Regan lives in Winnipeg Canada with his wife two children and enough animals - фото 114
Regan lives in Winnipeg, Canada with his wife, two children, and enough animals to bleed through six layers of carpet.
You can find out more about Regan at his website: www.reganwolfrom.com
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Copyright

Copyright © Regan Wolfrom 2012

Book Cover Design by Christine Ko

Stock from Conrado/Bigstock.com

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