Résultats de "R. B. Russell" dans Toutes les catégories

At the edges of everyday life, on geographical boundaries and in the margins of society, certainties and realities can wear thin. And if we find ourselves in such occult and outland territory late at night, we might glimpse phenomena out of the corner of our eye that cannot possibly be there. At such times even the past, apparently fixed and unchanging in memories and dreams, cannot be relied upon.

R.B.RUSSELL has only recently started writing fiction seriously, having previously written lyrics, composed music, and drawn in pen and ink for his own amusement. He runs Tartarus Press with Rosalie Parker from their home in the Yorkshire Dales. BRIGHTHELMSTONE: I am not sure how old I was when I visited Brighton with my mother; I could only have been about ten or eleven. My father had been dead for about a year and I recall it as the first holiday that we took without him.

R.B.RUSSELL has only recently started writing fiction seriously, having previously written lyrics, composed music, and drawn in pen and ink for his own amusement. He runs Tartarus Press with Rosalie Parker from their home in the Yorkshire Dales. LOUP-GAROU: I first saw the film, Loup-garou, in 1989, in a little arts cinema in the centre of Birmingham. I had driven there for a job interview and, as usual, I had allowed far more time for the journey than was required.

R.B.RUSSELL has only recently started writing fiction seriously, having previously written lyrics, composed music, and drawn in pen and ink for his own amusement. He runs Tartarus Press with Rosalie Parker from their home in the Yorkshire Dales. LLANFIHANGEL: It was perhaps an hour into the evening that I first really noticed Sally's friend, James. He was a large, fleshy, almost bald man who tried to hide his weight by wearing a white linen suit that was perhaps two sizes too big for him.

Luciana Gutierrez a police officer, works 96-hour shifts with a eugeroic hangover around the corner. Her investigation into those who stole her life is sidelined as a crime syndicate turns her precinct into a war-zone. Sent for backup, she’s offered experimental technology that could turn the tide, if she’s willing to risk mind, body, and soul.

The view from John Dowson s living room window is a miniature masterpiece. It reveals Venice in decay; crumbling, soft pink brick, and the ever-changing jade waters of a minor canal. But one morning the composition is marred by an old jacket draped carelessly over the iron railings of the balcony. This almost insignificant alteration to the perfect, arranged order of Dowson s life is just the first of many changes which become more profound as the days pass.