> > > Hallows Eve
A cemetery with ghosts rising like screaming tendrils of smoke from their graves...
Trick or Treaters whose goblin features are real, not costumes...
An army of Pumpkin Men...
They're all here and more, waiting for Corrie Phaeder to come home...
Corrie Phaeder has spent the last twelve years in Los Angeles -- at the age
of thirty he's a successful photographer of famous people, has a girlfriend
who adores him, and has everything he's ever wanted in life.
And then, almost in the blink of an eye, his career is ruined, his girlfriend
leaves him, and he finds himself on a train to Orangefield, the one place on
Earth he never wanted to see again -- the place where all the horrible dreams
or memories never end, and where, this Halloween, a messenger from a world just
beyond ours named John, with the body of a scarecrow and the face of a living
pumpkin, will usher Corrie Phaeder into the last battle for everything...
Hallows Eve, a full-length novel, is the latest tale in Al Sarrantonio's
Orangefield cycle.
Available in two states:
Limited edition of 750 signed copies ($40)
Traycased Lettered Edition of 26 signed and lettered copies bound in leather
with a satin ribbon page marker and additional full-color artwork ($175)
Free Excerpt:
Any
train ride through any town, any October.
The soothing clack of the
rails almost had him asleep. His newspaper lay crumpled in the empty seat
beside him; the lights in the train car had flickered off in the middle
of the sports page and he finally gave up, leaning back against the stiff
headrest and turning to watch the night outside. They were passing endless
cornfields under a mounting harvest Moon; under the strong white light
the stalks looked dry as paper, stiff at soldiers at attention.
Something caught his eye ahead
in the field of corn, towering above it -- an orange and yellow shape
that resolved itself into a scarecrow topped by a pumpkin head.
As they drew abreast of the
figure a fire ignited behind the triangle eyes, the sickle mouth, and
it turned its head to look at him. As the train left it behind, Corrie
watched the scarecrow move one of its long arms to point directly at him...
(Later on our protagonist
is compelled to get off the train and look for the scarecrow...)
The night was still and cold,
the chill of pre-winter with the sharp bite of a hard apple. Dry cornstalks
crackled beneath his feet. Far off, amidst the lights of Orangefield,
he heard a dog howl mournfully, hungry or afraid.
The moon was rising above
the cornfield to his left, making everything whiter, colder...
Why had he come here, this
was madness--
He heard something rustle
in the stalks to his left, off the path. He stiffened, waiting for a cold
wind to brush his face, but the corn stalks were perfectly straight, unbowed.
He heard the rustle again
and thought of that dog; he did not like dogs...
"Hello."
The wet whisper brushed his
ear at the exact moment a dry arm was thrown around his shoulder. He felt
heat, and saw the glow of the orange face between himself and the cornfield.
It had stepped swiftly out of the ranks --
"Let's walk, shall we?"
Petrified with fear, he turned
to look into the pumpkin face inches from his own. He felt heat from a
candleless glow within; saw wet seeds adhering to the scraped inside of
the head, through the sharply-etched nose, eyes, smiling mouth.
The scarecrow laughed, pulled
him closer with boneless fingers. It made a dry, ticking sound as it walked--
"You can call me John,
if you like."
***
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