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  • Format: ePub

Our Lord Weathercock shares the regional mythology of a damned Southern Wisconsin town. This story of cults, monsters and home-schooled magicians emulates. There are new gods and this is where they manifest. Here in Wister Town, a retired farmer is harassed by a coven of aspiring juvenile witches. His name is Bill De Corbin and the arthritic man spends an inexplicably warm winter alone in his small house. Trouble comes to him when pubescent children vandalize his backyard and steal his keepsake weather vane. This being where the tale is told, Mr. De Corbin concludes he needs a monster to scare…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Our Lord Weathercock shares the regional mythology of a damned Southern Wisconsin town. This story of cults, monsters and home-schooled magicians emulates. There are new gods and this is where they manifest. Here in Wister Town, a retired farmer is harassed by a coven of aspiring juvenile witches. His name is Bill De Corbin and the arthritic man spends an inexplicably warm winter alone in his small house. Trouble comes to him when pubescent children vandalize his backyard and steal his keepsake weather vane. This being where the tale is told, Mr. De Corbin concludes he needs a monster to scare away the thieving brats. Bill researches Dark Magic at the public library and he speaks with the Cult of Hathor. The old man does get his monster and the young coven knows. They go to his house and confront him. This begins the end of them all.


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Autorenporträt
Have you, curious reader, have you ever been employed as a receptionist - or have you worked anywhere that has required a person to spell their name for you? Well, that is who I am. I am that man who tells you, "My name is Mr. Binger, with a punctuation point. M - R - period. B-I-N-G-E-R."

I am where I have not been. That is to say, if I were to describe myself in five words, those fives words are, "Where I have not been." I have made myself those places I may never to go; so what I know of myself is wholly imaginative.