benjamin j kirby




Iā€™d gone to the place of the hermit not too many years before expecting the usual. Dusty brushes with horse hair at the end of a stick, ash from an old cigar and some crushed shell thrown around the room, the Ace, the Queen, the Five of Hearts and Two of Spades on the table next to a glass ball and a chicken foot.

Sacrifice to the Gypsy Monkey

He had found it almost by accident, the strange stone monkey, an artifact worth a lot to an old guy in Chicago. Three days later he was on a cot in a hut in Fortaleza in the depths of something a lot like malaria. It was the monkey ā€“ the Gypsy Monkey, they called it ā€“ and it spoke to him in his twisted dreams. Make your choice, make your sacrifice.

Book Day: Southern Gods

I am always impressed when writers can channel a different time.

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