Skip to content

Topsiders sees the light of day!

December 10, 2013

Greeting folk

After a bit of (yak-related) delay, Scott Tyson’s debut novel TOPSIDERS has finally emerged into the world and LegumeMan Books could not be prouder to have assisted at its birth. Mr Tyson’s road to publication has not always been the smoothest  — seriously check out some of the back story here and marvel at his ability to cop a blow to the nuts and keep on motoring — but, showing true tenacity, he has stuck with it and now all may bask in the glory that is…

 

An abandoned house by the edge of the river. Uninhabited for decades.

A secret as old as time itself. A truth hidden from the topsiders. But that’s about to change.

When all the adults suddenly disappear, Mathew convinces his older brother that something is very wrong. Their search leads them to a place they never knew existed.

A place that will have them question everything they knew about life.

Soon, the truth.

Buy at Amazon in both paperback and Kindle formats. Also available in other eFormats.

Or if you are in the vicinity of BooksPlus in Bathurst on the 14th December at 10:30 AM you could call in and meet the author himself.

 

John’s World has dawned.

April 24, 2013

Greetings you devils.

When we were but babes of eighty-six we were put in the care of our twelve-year-old great-uncle, allowing our parents to focus on improving their abhorrent Yahtzee skills.  This stately fellow had been christened Stanley but insisted we refer to him as the Flange Train — the name, he claimed, had been gifted him by the very same time-travelling plumber who wreaked such havoc on our family line. In his telling, the moniker had been chosen to represent not only his strength and stability, but also his uncanny ability to mimic a steam engine. A skill that came in handy of an evening when it came time to herd us rickety scamps to bed. Resisting the urge to board the Flange Train was an impossibility. In no time at all we’d be tucked up, snug as a bug, while he read to us from the back of our favourite vinegar bottle, enraptured until our weariness grew overpowering and we’d drift off into increasingly malodorous fart-snoring.

It was a wonderful time for us. A period we recall with such wistfulness that we often insert it into unrelated blog posts.

LegumeMan Books is positively bursting with excitement to announced that our next release John’s World has ventured forth into the world.

20130324-221559.jpg

“Three months have passed since the apocalypse ripped through his world, destroying everything he’d ever loved. For Dave Thomas things have gone from bad to worse to truly bizarre. Imprisoned in the ridiculous lair of the powerful creature called John, forced to watch as he morphs the remains of Earth into an abomination, Dave’s life has become a downward spiral of surreal misery which is only getting stranger.”

JOHN’S WORLD is available to purchase now from Amazon in paperback and Kindle formats.

Paperback:
http://www.amazon.com/Johns-World-R-Frederick-Hamilton/dp/0987466518/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1366757977&sr=8-5&keywords=john%27s+world+frederick

Kindle:
http://www.amazon.com/Johns-World-ebook/dp/B00CHOWK7S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1366758049&sr=1-1&keywords=john%27s+world+frederick

And also over at Smashwords for those other eformats:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/306824

Let the night be,
The Brothers Gunther.

Cover Art Ahoy!

March 24, 2013

The cover art for the next two releases has been finalised. Artwork for Antipaladin Blues is by Jesse Lindsay. Design is by Matthew Revert.

Coming in April:

John's World

 

Coming in June:

Antipaladin Blues

 

Let the night be,
The Brothers Gunther

Merlin’s Curse Part 7

March 24, 2013

The sage continues. Older instalments are here

———————————————————————————-

6) Mrs Nub’s Prolapse

After the shenanigans of the afternoon, all seemed relatively sedate as they settled down for a night in front of the goggle-box. Mrs Nub still claimed that she felt unwell and even Flaps had to admit there was an unsettled edge to his gullet. However, with the feature wall off to one side and only occasionally visible in their peripheral vision, the pain of its presence had become somewhat muted.

Even the abomination his Lamington attempt had created had quieted after an hour’s worth of moustache stroking. It now lay snoring gently on the bench, only occasionally making swears under its breath. Flaps had decided that it’s existence would be a problem for another day. They’d already had far too much excitement for the moment.

‘Nice peaceful night on the couch, hey?’ he’d suggested to Mrs Nub who’d merely replied with a holler of, ‘WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS TO US?!’

It was halfway through the nightly Walrus bout that the trouble started.

The almighty screech that Mrs Nub unleashed was a little more difficult to fob off than her previous groaning. “Well don’t look at it if it’s hurting”, didn’t quite cut the mustard in the face of the raw pain present in her voice.

‘THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY ANUS!!!’ she shrieked, startling Flaps who’d been playing along with the fight, air slapping an imaginary foe with the custom, polystyrene flippers he’d styled after “Madman” Pollack’s, his favourite battler since childhood.

When his eyes darted to the mentioned vicinity it was clear that her claim was correct. As a rule Mrs Nub’s cling film tights left little to the imagination and today was no exception. As she scissored her legs to give Flaps a better view, it was obvious something was in the offing. Her rectum appeared to be hyperventilating. Her sphincter lay repeated, puckered kisses against its covering, sucking the thin plastic in and out.

‘What’s happening, Mrs Nub?!’ Flaps screeched. Determined not to be outdone by her panic, he began a bold dance he hoped would show his true depths of worry but stopped, saddened, after a particularly vigorous high kick shattered his makeshift flippers, reducing them from the bulky majesty of Pollack’s to the dainty tappers of the foppish Jimmy Hyperdoodle.

In lieu of an answer, a wet tearing filled the air and Flaps, sensing its emanation point, leant in close to investigate. Sadly, he didn’t even get past the third verse of his sleuthing shanty before the mystery was resolved. A knife-edged fart reduced Mrs Nub’s tights to tatters and a large gobbet, trailing a comet tail of blood, exploded out, nearly knocking Flaps off his feet as it splattered across his face.

‘What?’ Flaps barely got the disgusted word out before another squirt issued forth. This one was more drawn out – as though the first had been a dam holding back the flood. It hosed him down even as it rent Mrs Nub’s sphincter like wet cloth. In the space of mere moments, Flaps was smeared head to toe in blood and faeces and crawling all over with small, black ants. ‘Argh!’ he yelped, slapping them off him as they started to nip.

‘My ant farm!’ Mrs Nub cried pitifully before another convulsion overtook her and a third discharge burst forth.

‘Mrs Nub…’ Flaps’ exclamation fell short when he saw that the flow didn’t seem to be abating this time. Filth poured from Mrs Nub’s shredded anus. The blood had thickened now and resembled chunky strawberry conserve. Swirls of brown streaked it and the sheer unpleasantness was only added to by the cottage-cheese like discharge that glopped out periodically. Flaps was pretty sure the little flecks that dotted it were parts of Mrs Nub that should remain on the inside.

Although the sight was horrifyingly disgusting, Flaps found his curiousity piqued anew when he spotted something else peeking out at him from the churning sea of bloodied excrement. Something pink and shiny, streaked in brown… Mindful of the earlier dousing he’d received, Flaps edged forward so he could see.

There it is again! Flaps’ brow crinkled as he peered into the tattered sphincter that twitched like a rabbit’s nose in fast forward.

He flinched as Mrs Nub’s sphincter expelled a gout of foul smelling, yellowish pus and a blood-coated turd that looked more like a hunk of raw liver but his eyes were riveted on what the clearing of muck revealed. Mrs Nub did a banshee impression as, like a prarie dog checking if the coast is clear, a little pink bundle of flesh bobbed out from the tattered remains of her muscle.

It clearly liked what it saw. Moments later it flopped free and landed like a beached whale against the streaked inside of her thigh.

It was a nauseous sight. Almost on par with Merlin’s Curse, Flaps thought as he looked around for something to poke it back in with. Most of his usual implements were in for repair though (a consequence of the one man show Guess what’s in me jacksie! he’d put on for Mrs Nub and her unappreciative grandparents the week before). It was difficult to focus on locating new ones. Not only did he have to deal with the stinging ants as they regrouped for a second attack, but also the steady ooze of foul-smelling offal that leaked from Mrs Nubs rectum. It reminded Flaps of a volcano that had just blown its lava dome and was now settling down into a steady seep. The couch beneath Mrs Nub was sodden with blood and discharge and mounded with batter-like pools of shit.

Meanwhile the fleshy tube continued to worm from Mrs Nub.

To an observer who had just arrived on the scene, it would have appeared as though Mrs Nub was giving birth to Satan’s Child. Her brow was wet and her cheeks burned red as she panted and gasped, periodic spasms wracking her frame. Slowly, inch by inch, each punctuated with a wet fart and a mist-like spray, the flesh worked its way out. Flaps could only stand, open-mouthed in shock as it unfurled before his eyes, dripping a sludge trail as it wrapped around Mrs Nub’s thigh.

He couldn’t help it and felt slightly ashamed when he bent over and vomited, adding to the mess with his mealy stew.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Nub,’ he cried even though he secretly thought his vomit was the lesser of two evils. He thought it added a slightly nicer touch. Quaint was the word that sprang to mind (although he knew it was hopelessly inappropriate) but promptly disappeared as Mrs Nub unleashed a final screech that blew out her voice and left it a dusty croak.

The fleshy tube that had been slowly easing itself free suddenly shot out like the tentacle of an attacking octopus. The flood it unleashed as it whipped around rivalled a tsunami. Flaps heard the wet slap of the meaty tube connecting with his jaw and toppled, a last thought rocketing through his head before the pain kicked in and darkness claimed him.

This is worse than that lark where I spliced her with a triffid.

…………

His skull throbbed when Flaps came back. The taste in his mouth was excessively unpleasant to say the least but, thankfully, the ants had apparently abandoned ship and were no longer tormenting him with their prickly bites.

Flaps cracked his eye and saw why. The ants were currently ringing one of Mrs Nub’s larger stools, worshipping it as their new god while it bobbed in a sea of blood and pus. If their jubilation was anything to go by, Flaps shuddered to think of the calibre of their old god. He watched their elaborate dance ritual for a moment, secretly jealous of the turd and fantasising about the day when an army of ants would see fit to construct a dance in his honour (and also wondering whether he could possibly sneak a little bit of the turd’s homage for his homage box which was still lying embarrassingly unfilled). Then, his heart filling with dread, Flaps turned his head toward Mrs Nub.

For a long time, he just screamed and screamed.

Next time:
The Bonobos

Brett McBean’s The Awakening

March 23, 2013

 

Greeting followers of Legume.

Some very exciting news today.

Last year Brett McBean’s the Awakening was released in an unbelievably gorgeous, limited hardcover by Tasmaniac Publications. It received many a rave review (don’t just take our word for it, check out here, here and here for a taste) and was a very well deserved sell out. Unfortunately that meant that some folk had to miss out on owning a copy of their very own.

But no longer.

No longer will you need to caress that awful crayon sketch of the cover that you taped across your pillow.

LegumeMan is prouder than a fig bandit to announce that in August of this very year we will be unleashing both paperback and eBooks versions of the Awakening upon the world. So everyone can get their hands on this coming of age/Haitian voodoo epic.

More news on this will be forthcoming but for now simply bust out your finest maypole and join us in our celebratory dance.

Belated new year greetings…

February 5, 2013

Hello wonderful followers of Legume.

There are exciting things afoot at Legume HQ at the moment, let us tell you! Not only are we pleased to have added two new books to our stables but we have so much exciting stuff on the horizon that 2013 promises to be even more of an uber LegumeFest than 2012.

First and foremost a big hurrah is in order as Brett McBean’s “Buk and Jimmy Go West” and Steve Gerlach’s “Autopsy 2: Darkness Burning” (click on the covers below for more info) have now been unleashed upon the world. If you haven’t already brought them then I’d be concerned and immediately rectify that situation. (Seriously. People will die and shit if you don’t).


Secondly we got a whole bunch of other new stuff that’ll be coming this year.

As a bit of a taste…

—————————————————————————————————————

Coming Up:

That slack fucker R Frederick Hamilton has finally gotten off his arse and delivered the manuscript for Should Have Killed the Kid’s sequel, “John’s World”, which should be seeing the light of day in the not too distant future.

After which we’ll be delighted to unleash the beast that is Jess Gulbranson’s “Antipaladin Blues”. A glorious antihero in a fantasy world that warps genre conventions.

Then there is volume 3 of the Gerlach Library, “The Nocturne”, coming your way. Small town horror done just right.

Then from newcomer Scott Tyson we’ll be dropping “Topsiders”. A novella of subterranean terror that’ll have you on the edge of your reading seats.

Plus maybe one or two surprises along the way.

And we are also still open to submissions so who knows what may turn up in the interim.

Speaking of which.

—————————————————————————————————————

Submissions:

We have been inundated with submissions but are endeavoring to read through them as quickly as possible. The first round of rejections has started so you may be receiving emails soon/already received them. Thanks to everyone who has submitted so far and for those who haven’t please do. We’re particularly interested in seeing some more subs from female authors out there as it has turned into quite the sausage fest at LegumeMan of late and we’d like to rectify that.

—————————————————————————————————————

Reviews:

A bunch of review love for various LegumeBooks has appeared around the traps. We’d like to take a moment to say thanks to each and every reviewer who has taken the time to read and comment. We appreciate it in plain creepy ways and rest assured if we had any spare doves we’d gift you one.

If anyone is interested in reviewing any past or present LegumeMan titles contact us at info@legumeman.com and we can hook you up. Although, as noted above, reward doves are in short supply we still might be able to rustle up a grackle or two to sling your way.

—————————————————————————————————————

Finally, and most importantly, belated new year greetings all around and thank you to each and every Legumite who continues to support us. It is appreciated and we look forward to bringing you more fine fiction this year.

Let the Night Be,
The Brothers Gunther

Coming Soon

November 30, 2012

Hello wonderful followers of Legume

There are exciting things afoot at Legume HQ at the moment.

Even as we are celebrating the recent release of Penetralia we’re still hard at work on our next couple of releases.

Buk and Jimmy Go West by Brett McBean and Autopsy II Darkness Burning by Steve Gerlach

20121201-100453.jpg20121201-100506.jpg

Both are on track for end of year/early January release so keep your peepers peeled.

Let the Night Be,
The Brothers Gunther