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Sammons, Brian M. (ed.) - Steampunk Cthulhu / Саммонс, Брайан М. (ред.) - Ктулху в мире стимпанка [2014, EPUB, ENG]

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Brian M. Sammons & Glynn Owen Barrass (ed.) - Steampunk Cthulhu

Название: Steampunk Cthulhu / Ктулху в мире стимпанка
Год выпуска: 2014
Под редакцией: Sammons, Brian M. & Barrass, Glynn Owen / Саммонс, Брайан М. & Баррас, Глинн Оуэн
Издательство: Chaosium
ISBN: 978-1-56882-394-2
Формат: EPUB
Качество: eBook
Язык: английский

Описание:
Лавкрафтовская тематика в жанре "стимпанк"
Introduction by Brian M. Sammons and Glynn Barrass
Those Above by Jeffrey Thomas
The Blackwold Horror by Adam Bolivar
No Hand to Turn the Key by Carrie Cuinn
The Reverend Mr. Goodworks & the Yeggs of Yig by Edward M. Erdelac
Carnacki—The Island of Doctor Munroe by William Meikle
Pain Wears No Mask by John Goodrich
Before the Least of These Stars by Lee Clark Zumpe
The Promised Messiah by D. J. Tyrer
Unfathomable by Christine Morgan
The Flower by Christopher M. Geeson
Tentacular Spectacular by Thana Niveau
Fall of an Empire by Glynn Barrass and Brian M. Sammons
The Baying of the Hounds by Leigh Kimmel
Mr. Brass & the City of Devils by Josh Reynolds
The Source by D. L. Snell
Happy Birthday, Dear Cthulhu by Robert Neilson
The Strange Company by Peter Rawlik
Happy Birthday, Dear Cthulhu
By Robert Neilson

Amily’s father was, to quote The Times of London, ‘one of the pre-eminent scientists of his day’; he just wasn’t much of a father. Mostly he simply ignored his only child. If asked, she was certain he would get her eye color wrong. Nor could he tell you whether she was arty or sporty or bookish. And, when forced by the temporary illness of Emily’s mother to organize her thirteenth birthday party, any man with the slightest pretension to fatherhood would know not to engage a Punch and Judy show.
It was bad enough that because Mummy was ill Emily could only have four friends to her party, but the embarrassment of having her friends subjected to the childish entertainment of a puppet show was almost beyond bearing. Sandy, the Rt. Hon. Lady Sandra Bellingham to give her full name and title, was very understanding. She was the one Emily really was worried about. Sandy’s father was a Duke. Emily didn’t know her that well and was surprised when she accepted the invitation. She had been disappointed at first, only inviting Sandy because it was expected. When she said yes it meant one of Emily’s real friends had to be left off the guest list. Still, now that she was here, it was rather thrilling. And the girls from Paige House would want to hear all about her: what she wore, her witty conversation and, especially, what present she brought.
Of course the presents would have to wait until after the entertainment. She checked the clock over the mantelpiece; the Punch and Judy man was late. Daddy had been sweet enough to allow his man Watkins to serve refreshments. She had worried about him slightly – he was really Daddy’s driver though his title was butler – but despite what her mother always referred to as his rough edges, Watkins really was quite perfect in his tails and starched collar.
At last the doorbell sounded. Emily ran to get it herself, even though it was not quite proper; the only other servant was Stella, the downstairs maid, and she had enough on her plate catering to Mummy’s needs. It was the first day Mummy had come downstairs since she began feeling poorly. Emily was delighted she made the effort though concerned that her mother still seemed very pale. Normally Mummy was very much large and in charge. She sometimes thought that Daddy’s work might have kept him out of the house a little less if his ‘Darling Dorothy’ had pushed him about less when he ‘graced them with his presence’.
When Emily opened the front door three men stood on the granite steps. Each of them wore a dark suit and bowler hat. Two of them held between them a huge wooden box, shaped much like a coffin, though made from rough planks. The one at the front was obviously in charge. His hands were empty but for a silver-topped walking cane, and his maroon cravat was fixed with a pearl stick-pin. The man with the cane and the cravat doffed his bowler revealing a fine head of black hair, parted in the middle as was the fashion, held flat to his head by copious applications of hair-oil.
. . .
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