This book had two authors, and they were both the same person.

When I was a kid, I read the science-fiction shelves, and I read the fantasy shelves.

Humans need fantasy to be human. To be the place where the falling angel meets the rising ape.

Fantasy is an exercise bicycle for the mind. It might not take you anywhere, but it tones up the muscles that can. Of course, I could be wrong.

But this was no ordinary chicken. This chicken was evil manifest.

When his dead father touched his hand, Athson almost dropped the arrow.