By Ellen Datlow
When we expect of vampires, immediately the picture arises: fangs sunk deep into the throat of the sufferer. yet bloodsucking is simply one type of vampirism. For this brilliantly unique anthology, Ellen Datlow has commissioned tales from a few of the so much powerfully darkish voices in modern horror, who conjure stories of vampirism that might relax readers to the marrow.
In addition to the conventional fanged vampires, Datlow provides tales in regards to the leeching of emotion, the draining of the soul, and different darkish deeds of predation and exploitation, infestation, and evisceration…tales of existence essence, literal or metaphorical, stolen.
Seventeen tales, via such award-winning authors as Elizabeth undergo, Richard Bowes, Kathe Koja, Margo Lanagan, Carol Emshwiller, and Lisa Tuttle will petrify readers. With darkish stories by means of Laird Barron, Barry Malzberg and invoice Pronzini, Kaaron Warren, and different strong voices, Blood and different Cravings will redefine the phobia of vampires and vampirism.
Read or Download Blood and Other Cravings: Original Stories of Vampires and Vampirism by Today's Greatest Writers of Dark Fiction PDF
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Additional info for Blood and Other Cravings: Original Stories of Vampires and Vampirism by Today's Greatest Writers of Dark Fiction
Good,” he says—to himself, to not me or Barn. “Perfect. ” He places his knife in there, and what he does in there's performed in me in addition, i believe so strongly the tremor it makes, the phobia it performs up out of Barn’s body, plucking him, rubbing him, like a mess around string. His breath, at the back of me, halts and hops with the phobia. Phillips pierces anything with a pop. Barn yelps, shocked. Phillips sits straighter, and waves his give up the wound as he waved away the odor of my grog sooner than. I trap a drift of shit-smell after which it’s long past, floated up hot away. He is going to his tools. “That’s most likely the worst of it, for the moment,” he says to them. “You can sit up straight when you like. remain via, notwithstanding; you by no means understand whilst he’ll panic. ” I sit up straight slowly, a unique boy from the person who lay down. I part count on my very own insides to return pouring out of me. John Barn’s abdominal gapes open, the wound darkish and glistening, filling with blood. past it, his flesh slopes away tender as a wood doll among his weakling thighs, which tremble and tremble. Phillips returns to the wound, one other little instrument in his hand—I don’t be aware of what it's, purely that it’s no longer made for slicing. I positioned my hand on Barn’s chest, attempting to stream as easily and bloodlessly as Phillips. “George, what has he performed to me? ” John Barn makes to appear down himself. quickly as gentle, I placed my hand to his sweated forehead, and press his head to the floor. “He’s getting that foodstuff out,” I say. “If it remains in there, it’ll fester and kill you. He’s supporting you. ” “Feed him a few more,” says Phillips, and bends to his paintings. “Keep on that. ” So I lie, propped up on one elbow, rolling mulberry tablets and feeding them to Barn. He chews, dutifully; he weeps, tears operating again over his ears into his skinny hair. He swallows the mulberry mush down his child-neck. Hush, I approximately say to him, yet Phillips is there, so I in simple terms imagine it, and attend to the feeding, rolling the leaves, placing them one after the other into Barn’s obedient mouth. I can’t aid yet remember, even though, of what the fellow is doing there, down on the wound. For something, along with the 2 fires it's the in basic terms obvious job, the single flow in addition to my very own. for an additional, for all that the sight of these blood-tipped white arms going approximately their paintings repels me, their ability and care, and the existence they appear to have in their personal, are anything to work out. It’s like staring at Pa make damselfly flies within the firelight within the wintry weather, every one finger independently realizing the place to be and cross, and the face specifically eyes and no expression, the brain taken up with this small trouble. The apple and the radish, all chewed and decreased and cooked stinky via John Barn’s body’s warmth, are stuck within the knotted up silk. Phillips needs to draw them, with the skein, slowly lump by way of lump from Barn’s innards, up into the firelight the place they hold and shine like a few disagreeable necklace. Sprawled beside John Barn, in his respiring and his bracing himself i think the dimensions of each bead of that necklace huge and small, earlier than I see it drawn up into the firelight at the shining strands.