Meg, by Steve Alten:
Jonas adjusted his midwing, decreasing his angle of descent. He hovered twenty feet above the seabed and slowed, waiting for D.J. Spread out below him were row upon row of giant clams, pure white and glowing, each over a foot in diameter. There were thousands of them, lying in formation around the [geothermal] vents as if ( Read more... )

#78: Butcher Bird: A Novel of the Dominion by Richard Kadrey:Shrike smiled and sliced the wax and cork from the top of the bottle with the edge of her sword, then handed the wine to Spyder. It tasted like wind felt at the top of a hill on a summer night. He handed the bottle back to Shrike. "Wow," he said ( Read more... )

My review of Caitlin R. Kiernan's The Red Tree is now up over at Strange Horizons.

# 72: Deep Storm by Lincoln Child:Crane frowned. "It's your call to make, of course. But seventy-two hours ago, this 'simple mood disorder' took a hostage, then jammed a screwdriver into his own throat."

Corbett took a sip of his latte. "Waite clearly has some issues to grapple with."
Synopsis: Well it was this or another Dirk! Pitt!

( But really, shit blew up and then sank. It was just like being there. )

#64: Echoes of the Future edited by Aleksandr Voinov:Mechanical carp swam in slow circles in the ornamental pool. Ismail paused to watch one of the fish, an orange and white creation with showy fins, bump its head repeatedly against the wall. He knew how that felt, so he crouched and set the carp on its proper path.

--Kate Cotoner, "Conduit"

( Read more... )

This.

Yes.

Click to view

via greygirlbeast

# 56: Queerpunk: Erotic Cyberpunk edited by Cecilia Tan and Kelly Kincaid:She touched the console again, and the room exploded away from her like the ground from a missile ( Read more... )

# 36: Resident Evil: Genesis by Keith R. A. DeCandido:

She moved toward the doorway, all the while wondering at the absurdity of instinctively knowing the word vestibule, yet taking five minutes to remember what a wedding ring and a bathrobe were.
Cautiously, she walked closer to the statue, now really wishing she had the codes that would allow ( Read more... )

# 35: Hammerjack by Marc D Giller:

Trevor Bostic had been deliberately vague about what had happened inside the Tank, although the evidence of it was abundant. Painted in dull remnants of drief crimson were gaudy reminders that no one there had met a peaceful end--least of all the last man to pay a visit. In spite of efforts to clean it up, a hazy ( Read more... )