The Pulp Fiction Megapack: 25 Classic Pulp Stories
Captain S. P. Meek, G. T. Fleming-Roberts, Hugh Pendexter, Lazar Levi, David R. Sparks
Apes! intercourse fiends! Gangsters! Mad scientists! Tentacles! sure, this MEGAPACK has all of them, a minimum of 25 lurid stories ripped from the pages of pulp fiction magazines. For The Pulp Fiction Megapack, we chosen tales with nice pulp titles. (Where else are you going to discover tales like "Blood for the Vampire Dead," "Mistress of Snarling Death," or "When Super-Apes Plot"?) after all, those tales have been all written in a special time, with various criteria of what was once applicable. they're decidedly now not politically right by way of smooth criteria. Please cross into them conscious of this truth, and while you are angry through racism, stereotypes, undesirable writing, sadism, or anything customary in affordable literature of the early twentieth century...well, this won't be the suitable publication for you. but when you could relax and luxuriate in those tales for what they are—simple titlations from one other era—you may possibly locate a few astonishing treats.
BLOOD FOR THE VAMPIRE useless, through Robert Leslie Bellem
MISTRESS OF SNARLING loss of life, by way of Paul Chadwick
FIANCES FOR THE DEVIL’S DAUGHTER, by means of Russell Gray
THE SHRIEKING POOL, by means of G. T. Fleming-Roberts
DEATH associates FOR THE LUST-LOST, via Hugh J. Gallagher
THE canines OF PURGATORY, through Hugh Pendexter
WHEN new york SANK, by way of George S. Brooks
BRIDE OF THE APE, via Harold Ward
BLOOD-BAIT FOR HUNGRY MERMAIDS, by means of John Wallace
SHIP OF THE GOLDEN GHOUL, by means of Lazar Levi
BLACK POOL FOR HELL MAIDENS, through Hal okay. Wells
DEATH FLIGHT, by means of Robert Wallace
THE SCALPEL OF DOOM, via Ray Cummings
SATAN DRIVES THE BUS, via Wyatt Blassingame
SERVANT OF THE BEAST, by means of L. Patrick Greene
THE useless e-book, via Howard Hersey
WHEN SUPER-APES PLOT, by way of Anthony Wilder
THE YELLOW CURSE, via Lars Anderson
THE mind OF MANY our bodies, by way of E. A. Grosser
TONG TORTURE, by way of Emile C. Tepperman
THE RAY OF insanity, by means of Captain S. P. Meek
THE bad TENTACLES OF L-472, via Sewell Peaslee Wright
THE APE-MEN OF XLOTLI, via David R. Sparks
THE FLOATING ISLAND OF insanity, via Jason Kirby
THE CORPSE at the GRATING, by way of Hugh B. Cave
And be sure you seek this book shop for extra entries within the "Megapack" sequence, protecting technology fiction, myth, horror, secret, westerns, and lots more and plenty, a lot more!
again. Nick became an inquiring look on the others. McGuire, of murder, used to be sitting in a straight-backed chair and conversing confidentially to Gregory Deming. Deming, the well known collector of jade, looked to be all damaged up. no longer so, McGuire. The murder guy used to be smoking one in all Deming’s pricey cigars with obvious savour. His trousers have been pulled up on the knees, and the cuffs have been an inch or so above the tops of his red socks, which he wore with no garters. He glanced clear of.
Flame and to chatter wickedly within the semi-gloom. Nick heard the depraved spat of the slugs tearing into the ground simply past the spot the place he were. If the raw-boned Chinaman have been more proficient at dealing with the quick-firer, he can have raked the room and torn Nick to items. because it was once, notwithstanding, he stored his finger at the journey, and exhausted the total drum earlier than he may shift; it takes loads of perform to swing a Browning, even in a brief arc, sooner than the drum is empty. The hatchet-man.
Observers in any respect commentary posts, operators on the smaller tv tools to sweep the terrain and document immediately any item of curiosity. With the 3 folks looking out, it appeared exceptional that whatever may perhaps break out us. At atmospheric altitudes even the 2 smaller tv tools will be in a position to decide on a physique the dimensions of 1 of the lacking ships. Dival entered the room as i stopped giving my orders. “A unusual international, Dival,” I commented, glancing in the direction of the.
With their rusty eco-friendly leaves swaying. “Do you spot, sir,” got here a gradual inspiration from Dival, an emanation that may rarely were perceptible to the lads at the back of us, “that there's no wind—and but the bushes, yonder, are swaying and rustling?” i peeked round, startled. I had now not spotted the absence of a breeze. i attempted to make my reaction reassuring: “There is perhaps a breeze larger up, that doesn’t dip down into this little clearing,” I ventured. “At any expense, it's not vital.
“Not me,” he acknowledged emphatically. “I wrote Mr. Stapleton an’ lit out with the remaining. merely got here again now ’cause he stressed out me he offered where, an’ used to be popping out with the recent proprietor. sought after me t’ make things better up a section. yet I’m a going.” Kober fastened him with a chilly, fishy eye. “You’re staying, Dunn.” The woodsman became on him snarling; comfy all of sudden. one other guy entered the room, a pasty-faced, gaunt person. His hand rested in his coat pocket, and a suspicious bulge snouted at once at Jerry.