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Books : Literature & Fiction : Authors, A-Z : ( R ) : Rodgers, Alan
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The remnants of the ragtag fleet and the battle-scarred Galactica have escaped the clutches of the Cylons and warped into an unknown quadrant of the galaxy. It is a pocket of null-space in which their stardrives will not work. To make matters worse, the recent conflicts have left many wounded and medical supplies are critically low . . . as are the fleet?s food resources and fuel supplies.
While scouts venture forth in search of a habitable planet, the civilian population of the fleet rebels. Fights over the dwindling supplies break out among civilian factions, and the military is called upon to restore order, which only serves to heighten the tensions. And, once again, accusing fingers are pointed squarely at the man whose responsibility it is to assure the safety and well-being of all: Apollo. Even members of the Galactica?s bridge crew turn against him.
Adding to the growing tensions is the fact that Troy and Dalton, Trays and Boomer?the planetary search parties?are missing. But the real stunner is the revelation that Casseopia is pregnant, and that she has acknowledged Apollo as the father!
Apollo and Athena are relieved of their commands and thrown into the brig. Civilians take over and chaos reigns?just in time for the Cylons to arrive. And soon after the Cylons, the even more deadly, alien Chitain show up. Apollo must somehow regain command of the fleet, organize a fight against the Cylons and Chitain, find a way to resupply the fleet and devise an escape route from the pocket of null-space in which they are stuck, before it implodes and destroys everything and everyone caught in it.
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A little over sixty years ago, Robert Johnson died of poison in a little town up off the bluff in Arkansas. In an hour, a little girl named Lisa will die of cancer. Such different deaths -- but linked, horribly and inevitably, by the crime Robert Johnson committed in the hour that he died. That Crime was Judgment Day: Robert Johnson sang Judgment Day, the song to end the world, as he lay dying in that shack up off the Mississippi River bluff -- and nothing anywhere in the world has been right since. 'Startling originality, a strong and rhythmic narrative voice, compelling characters, and delightfully quirky metaphysics make this a noteworthy hardcover debut for Rodgers, author of New Life for the Dead. . . . Well-realized settings range from contemporary New York City to Missouri and Mississippi in 1938; heaven and hell both come down to earth in modern New Orleans. Through colloquial prose that's strong and perfectly pitched, Rodgers combines elements of horror (sometimes graphic), fantasy, and magical realism into a unique novel that's not only an occult standout but a captivating memoir of an important slice of American culture.' -- Publishers Weekly 'The highest praise one writer can give another is to say 'I wish I'd written that book.' I would cheerfully trade my younger brother Rick, my collection of original Beatles cards, and any hope that my beloved Cleveland Indians will ever win a World Series to have written Alan Rodgers' Bone Music.' -- George Alec Effinger, author of When Gravity Fails 'Alan Rodgers . . . uses simple and beautiful words to tell this complex and horrific story. Really weird! Don't die until you've read Bone Music.' -- Brian Lumley, author of Necroscope 'Alan Rodgers' Bone Music is a work of mythological proportions. He captures the beauty and the horror of the old bluesmen, the terror and majesty of Heaven and Hell, and mixes it all into a potent tale of earthly woe. For atmosphere, real soul, and a touch of mystical madness, read the dream that is Bone Music.' -- Billie Sue Mosiman, author of Widow
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She was more like a woman than a woman is like a man. She was alien, but not very alien. Even in that first moment when Walt saw her as she looked up as she walked past the construction site, he knew she was alien but thought of her the way he thought about human women.
That was a mistake. A really, really bad mistake. -
in the small town of Green Hill, all the children belong to an evil, magical, and entirely secret cult. For generations, every child in Green Hill has belonged to this cult until he reaches puberty. Then all evul, and all memory of evil acts committed, disappers. Only the children know of the ceremonies that take place on moonlit nights and in the canves that lie undneath th town's foundations.... "Remarkable.... a novel of horror that exceeds the word 'intense.' It's as if the layers of horror are being peeled away as you turn the pages." --J.N. Williamson
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Eight-year-old Walt Fulton was hit and killed by a car almost a year ago. When he strolls in the front door one day and says, "Hi Mom, I'm home," he has everybody's attention. But resurrection isn't all joyous reunions. There are complications. Walt's dead and everyone knows it--his little sister, his teacher, the neighbor kids. There are questions to answer, tabloid reporters to swat off. It's a lot to--well, live with. Walt can put up with all of this, or he can go to those who woke him from the grave. They're ... not from around here. World Fantasy Award Nominee, Bram Stoker Award Winner
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THE END OF THE WORLD HAS COME -- BUT THE HORROR HAS ONLY BEGUN. PREPARE FOR THE WORST. GET READY TO BE CONSUMED BY FIRE "Every so often, a truly seminal book is published in the horror field. Blatty's The Exorcist, King's The Stand, Barker's Books of Blood. Alan Rodgers' Fire is such a book. It is a tale of amazing sweep and scope, uniting Biblical prophecies and hightech, ancient horrors with new ones cobbled up from labs and shadows. After this book, everything changes." -- J. Michael Straczynski, creator of Babylon Five "With Fire, Alan Rodgers shows that he can set the whole world of horror alight. Powerful, frightening, apocalyptic." -- Graham Masterton
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There are sins that whisper melodies of madness through the blood; sins that sing to us down and across the generations -- no matter what the distance, we know them when we see them, and perhaps they
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Outside Cincinnati, Ohio, there is a wasteland that used to be Wright-Patterson Air Force base. Three years ago the aliens invaded there, turning Wright-Pat into a nuclear wasteland, the detritus of a terrible battle. It was no ordinary battle, but a battle with something utterly unworldly, something unhuman and inhuman, a force no man could ever hope to master. . . . Now the aliens have returned -- their agents walk among us, indistinguishable from you or I. The Aliens have landed. And nothing in the world will ever be the same.
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NIGHT
I started working on this book with the thought that God isn't dead, and it isn't that he doesn't love us, either. It's just that he wants to give us room enough to be ourselves, even if that means we screw up.
If he didn't we'd be nothing but children, and it'd stunt us.
I ended up telling a story that isn't that, exactly -- but that's where and what it comes from. That's what's this book -- the story of a man with a forbidding legacy and a destiny he can't imagine growing great enough to face -- means to be.
-- Alan Rodgers
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There's a story that goes 'round about strange events outside Roswell, New Mexico, and how they led to a hangar in Ohio and the three dead aliens that lie stored inside it. Most everyone has heard the tale at one time or another.
And because it goes 'round the way it does -- metamorphosing ever so slightly with every retelling -- some people say the tale is nothing but a scrap of modern folklore; a legend alive in every bar and coffee house across the land.
Pandora knows better. Pandora knows all about the strange events outside Roswell -- and she knows even more about the stranger ones that followed. She knows that there weren't three dead aliens in the wreckage of the doomed ship.
Not three, but four.
Three dead adults and a single living, breathing infant.
That infant was Pandora.
Years now the government has raised her in captivity, unknowable and secret inside a classified Air Force Facility in Ohio.
This morning Pandora escaped in the dark dark hours before dawn. And through the miracle of modern satellite television, all the world has seen her.
And the government wants her back. -
This is the tale of the man sailed the river of our destiny. It starts in the barrios of an alien city with a name no man can pronounce, where they sell a drug called Life, that will kill you if you take it. It leads through the events that underpin our lives like the struts of some great superstructure: in the end it will take Walt Fulton to the verge of the veil of time itself. No one knows what lies beyond that. None who have gone there ever have returned.
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"The thing about Rodgers is, he takes the horror -- and it's horrible, all right -- and turns it into the light just a little differently than you'd ever expect and from this angle you realize it's more tragic than horrid, more beautiful than hideous." -- Orson Scott Card / F&SF. New Life for the Dead is one of the best horror collections of the 1990s, and it features many of Rodgers' best short works, including his Bram Stoker Awardwinning novelet, "The Boy Who Came Back from the Dead."
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Matilda Gray is an expert on antiquities, especially the Roman and Celtic artifacts found in Great Britain. But one thing Matilda has learned is that such relics of time past are not valued only by museums but also by unscrupulous collectors, and the illegal trade in such treasures can be deadly. Gareth March is a Scotland Yard detective who must work - reluctantly -- with Matilda to solve the murder of a woman who knew too much about stolen antiquities. Solving the murder will earn him a promotion. And more--perhaps a greater treasure than Celtic gold is a relationship appearing when he least expects it . . . The murder case, the case of the stolen antiquities, and the treasure coming to light at the excavation of a Roman fort are tied inextricably together. At last Matilda and Gareth have to stop arguing and begin a race against time to prevent another murder. They do, after all, agree on one thing: the risk of death makes life and love all the sweeter. There's always time enough to die.















