17 Ergebnisse.

Zom is indestructible. He loves to work and can do anything physical, far beyond what is expected of him - but he can't find a job. He tries working as a deep sea fisherman, plays professional football, soldiers in the desert. Something always goes wrong - fish eat his appendages, he loses an arm, he gets shot. But nothing stops Zom. He regenerates his body parts and treks on. Across town, Zera wants a daughter. In her loneliness, she recalls ...

Tom Timmins has published several volumes of poetry including "Likings for Shadows" and "I was just laughing." His fiction includes the Tofu Noir collection "The Hour Between One and Two." Tom has also published "Zom", an illustrated verse novella. To see or buy his books, visit thomastimmins.com

Keine Beschreibung.

From form to content and back to form, From norm to crazy and back to norm, From bound to free and back to bound, From sound to sense and back to sound. So back and forth. It almost scares A person the way things come in pairs. -- Robert Frost

Down in the CellarThe channel running under our old house flows through granite stone, a smooth lightless stream. Down in the cellar we open a door, a door in the floor. We lower our pails, and raise them up slow. The water tastes sweet and rich, like chilled cream.

Beats in timeI can never get lonesome enough to stop worrying about how much is enough and the conditions and qualities worldwide of potable water in 2035, or even 2025, especially at the end of summer when every cricket and locust in the Northern Hemisphere calls out in shadows, practicing their graduation speeches to other Insect Toastmasters and crooning to their paramours until every conscious creature in the woods with ears has memorized ...

Tom Timmins has published several volumes of poetry including "Likings for Shadows" and "I was just laughing." His fiction includes the Tofu Noir collection "The Hour Between One and Two." Tom has also published "Zom", an illustrated verse novella. To see or buy his books, visit thomastimmins.com

A tragic accident in a soyfoods factory - or is it an accident? The National Enquirer runs a story titled "Murder in a Tofu Factory?" and Charlie Greer, owner of American Tofu, becomes the target of a murder investigation. Genevieve O'Connor, the company's incomparable marketing manager and single mom with secrets of her own, fends off the media while falling in love with a dangerous man. As the investigation edges closer to naming Charlie a s...

Keine Beschreibung.

If you thought tofu was bland and virtuous, welcome to the dark comedic world of THE HOUR BETWEEN ONE AND TWO - in the new genre 'tofu noir'. You'll travel from the American Tofu Company in upstate New York-where a woman is found dead in a vat of tofu-to Old Taipei where it seems anything goes. Then to Hunts Point, the planet's largest produce market, rife with exotic foods and people. Join mercurial but self-destructive entrepreneur Charlie G...

Genevieve O'Connor learns of her boss Charlie's rash relationship with the daughter of Chang Meng, American Tofu's top customer while Charlie discovers the truth about the Special Fruit Meng wants him to import. Genevieve, single mom who gives her all to save Charlie and the company from his folly, must find a way to protect her son's life from her sweet but suddenly cunning lover.

Wings We returned to the woods from a three-day journey through the dizzy land of the casino. Today's a Saturday morning resurrection. Somewhere in my family DNA, a Christian sings the Sermon on the Mount, the only words in the Book that matter. Across the web, Mozart thrills anyone who needs, who dares to listen. In every note, he sacrificed his life, as if he had no cares about legacy. Little Billie watches me ...

Smoke My other self cries out in her crow voice, more wind in it than snarl...from somewhere, there, off to my left...he sits there in the clearing, in a grassy bowl at the bottom of the hill...he's smoking, watching me...a tall hat of smoke rises around his head...where's your brother, he asks me...he gets up from his rock chair... where's your shining stone house I say...maybe my brother is there I say...maybe your brother is there he la...

Sensitive hands He has the most beautiful hands. Long fingers, arced tips, black hair shiny as crow's feathers on his knuckles, palms webbed with fine lines. Grinning, he says the tangle of lines means he's ultra-sensitive. He's sensitive, but not the way you'd expect. I say "You're shallow." He shrugs. I tease him until he's turned on, then make a married woman's excuse and split. He smiles. Always eager to see me, never mentions I'm marr...

Since her name means "eternal life, " Zoë Rarefield is convinced she can find a way to live forever, roaming back and forth between her mother in Heaven and her friends on Earth. Zoë finds a drink recipe in an old cookbook called "An aphrodisiac for your angel." With this recipe, she intends to entice an angel to bear her up to heaven. In pursuit of her angel, Zoë, her beloved step-brother, and a Hunkpapa tribal elder stumble into what could b...

Books by Thomas Timmins Novels: Blood Medicine The Special Fruit Company Down at the River The Hour Between One and Two (Trilogy) Aphrodisiac for an Angel Short Fiction Puff of Time Visions of My Other Self Desert Dusk Music Graphic Verse Novel Zom Poetry I Was Just Laughing Likings for Shadows Buddhist Breathing in America

Richard Brautigan, western writer Richard Brautigan had to talk, needed listeners to feel his thoughts. So, when he was alone, he saddled up and rode his keyboard, stopping to pick up apostles, penguins and sexy girls, spout- ing tall tales through his handlebar moustache all the way to his hometown, iDeath, where he never once said "I wish I had a glass of watermelon juice.