Youngling by Ann Wilson

Author: Ann Wilson
Language: English
Wordcount: 3,254 / 10 pg
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease: 80.5
LoC Category: PS

Downloads: 2,363
Added to site: 2008.03.11
mnybks.net#: 20292
Origin: www.ecauldron.com
License: by-nc-nd

Genres: Creative Commons, Short Story, Post-1930, Science Fiction

the man had done — Joste’s thoughts shied away from consideration of such obscenity, and he had to force them back. Simply endangering females without dire need was enough to earn a dishonorable death; they were so terribly few, less than a fourth of the Traiti race, cherished for themselves and honored for the young only they could bear — a thing that happened less often than any could wish.

And this monster had actually led females into combat!

He brought himself under control; the grammar and harsh sounds of Imperial English were difficult enough without having to fight emotion at the same time. “Yourself identify,” he growled.

“Major Horst Marguerre, Imperial Terran Marine Corps.” It didn’t look at all good for him, Marguerre thought grimly. These huge gray-skinned humanoids were aggressive as hell — they were nicknamed Sharks as much for that as for the facial resemblance — and this one looked even less well-intentioned toward him than his guards did. “My ident code’s TERHE6-2063-4121. What’re you doing with my wounded?”

“They are medical treatment receiving,” Joste said. “Though there little chance for their

The Banjo Players Must Die by Josef Assad

A few centuries into the future, not much has changed about the basic characteristic of civilization, which is incompetence and boorishness. Wishing to end the world, the angels are left to their own devices by a God more concerned with new prototypes of bigger boobs for the next universe. Ramses, obsessed with hamster love, is selected to be the prophet of doom in a travesty of a selection process and leads humanity after much travail to Heaven. Which, as matters turn out, has been somewhat overrated. And the mysterious intergalactic race of banjo players flees on.

Author: Josef Assad
Published: 2007
Language: English
Wordcount: 61,163 / 184 pg
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease: 55.9
LoC Category: PS

Downloads: 3,092
Added to site: 2007.08.25
mnybks.net#: 18008
Origin: sancairodicopenhagen.com
License: by-nc-nd

Genres: Creative Commons, Post-1930, Fiction and Literature

e. The Farting Nun Prank was also widely attributed to Ramses, though he had by the time it was committed learned to keep his unclean pastimes to himself. But really, we should quit it with the Raped Tomato Incident now.

So, apart from the Raped Tomato Incident and a number of similar events, Ramses Abasiri’s youth progressed without any lasting damage to humanity at large. He excelled in chemistry, oddly enough, though his chemical adventures seemed to confine themselves to a hitherto fruitless search for aphrodisiacs and some decidedly more successful attempts to further aggravate the smell of Hydrogen Sulfide, the chemical associated with rotten eggs.

In a sense, it was a shame that Ramses became the Prophet of End Of Days on the 16th of Nobemver of the year 2484 (The eleventh month of the year has its `v’ and `b’ switched entirely at random, since it amuses the people to hear it mispronounced. The advent of direct democracy had rotted the political process into a never-ending series of polls

A Year in Fife Park by Quinn Wilde

Quinn Wilde spends a formative year studying at the University of St. Andrews, Scotland, and living in Fife Park, the cheapest student residence in the UK.Along the way, there are mistakes and faux pas, damages and destruction, passions and revelations, longing and belonging, love, mystery, tragedy, respect, and just a tiny little bit of sex.

Author: Quinn Wilde
Published: 2010
Language: English
Wordcount: 45,815 / 124 pg
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease: 75.5
LoC Category: PR

Audiobook: fifepark.com
Downloads: 1,723
Added to site: 2010.04.25
mnybks.net#: 27492
Origin: fifepark.com
License: by-nc-sa

Genres: Creative Commons, Post-1930, Fiction and Literature, Audiobook

‘ Frank asked me, late the first night. ‘Strathblane, apparently.’

We downloaded Duelling Banjos, and played it with the volume up.

Five of Seven

My room was freezing cold, pitch black half the time, and there was usually someone semi-conscious sprawled out on the bed. Often this was me. Despite this, my room was the most popular in the house, not counting the kitchen. This was almost certainly because of my open-door policy, because there were slightly fewer pairs of dirty boxer shorts on the floor than in Frank’s room, and because I had the best computer by a country mile.

Craig also had a computer, and quite a good one, but he did not operate an open-door policy. In fact, he used to close his door and repeatedly lock and then unlock it for fifteen straight minutes, until he was satisfied that it was locked. Then he’d do the same thing with the light switch. From outside the house, it probably looked like he was hosting a very small and lonely rave.

Attack Of The 50-foot Verbose Mutant Killer Fountain Pens From Mars by Mark Cantrell

Author: Mark Cantrell
Published: 2006
Language: English
Wordcount: 53,563 / 154 pg
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease: 61.1
LoC Category: PN

Downloads: 2,095
Added to site: 2007.03.16
mnybks.net#: 16294
Origin: www.tykewriter.supanet.com
License: by-nc-nd

Genres: Creative Commons, Essays, Fiction and Literature

ilroy is here!’ we are crying – our plea for attention in an indifferent world.

Even as we have gained with the advent of writing, we have lost something. Though our stories have flourished with the time machine that is writing, we have lost our ability to provide a sense of community, we no longer transmit those cultural messages that bind us together as people. That isn’t to say that stories still can’t – and don’t – perform that function. But as our world has grown ever more complex and fragmented, so too has the human experience, and so too has the unifying potential of storytelling. We see ourselves reflected in a broken mirror.

Yet this provides a wealth of material for the storyteller. The very stuff of drama: conflict. Not merely the conflict of every day life set within the narrow parameters of a particular sub-culture – but between sub-cultures, between class. We have a new age of heroes and villains, new demons and angels in our modern myths. That is the rich and the poor, the struggl

This Blue Ball by Wayne V. Miller

Author: Wayne V. Miller
Published: 2005
Language: English
Wordcount: 80,701 / 226 pg
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease: 75.3
LoC Category: PS

Downloads: 1,935
Added to site: 2006.02.04
mnybks.net#: 12652
Origin: thisblueball.com
License: by-nc-sa

Genres: Science Fiction, Fiction and Literature, Post-1930, Creative Commons

said, anticipating the ambiguities the call might bring up but unable to bring herself to lead with this.

“Okay — no problem,” he said with his voice trailing off. After a moment, when he realized that his expression couldn’t give him away, he asked: “How is he?”

“Andrew is fine,” she replied, in a tone to indicate that the quality of his care was not at issue.

“Good. — Good.”

In the brief moment before she continued, Gary could hear her inhale, even through the telephone’s thin connection. That already told a great deal about the misgivings and pressure she felt. She was calling on Andrew’s behalf, but about something that worried and concerned her. Only her interest in Andrew could resurrect Gary from the ash heap of her personal history — Gary understood that much about her.

“Something very strange happened last night with Andrew’s computer, and you are the only person I could think of” — another chance to distance herself — “whose opinion I could trust.” The last w

This is not a Story by Denis Diderot

Translation into English by Peter Phalen, 2010.

Author: Denis Diderot
Published: 1798
Language: English
Wordcount: 9,635 / 34 pg
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease: 71.2
LoC Category: PQ

Downloads: 999
Added to site: 2010.12.02
mnybks.net#: 29801
Origin: gutenberg.org
License: by-nc-sa

Genres: Short Story, Creative Commons

-He, Sainte-Hyacinthe street, and his lady friend Mademoiselle de La Chaux, Saint-Michel square. I call her by her own name because the poor thing is no more, because her life can only honor it in every well-made mind and award it the admiration, the regret and the tears of those that nature will favor or punish with a small portion of the sensibility of her soul.

–Well! Your speech is halting, and I believe you are crying.

–I can still see her big dark eyes, soft and twinkling, and the moving sound of her voice resounding in my ears and shaking my heart. Charming creature! Unique creature! You are no more! You have been no more for nearly twenty years; and my heart still tightens at the thought of you.

–You loved her?

–No. Oh La Chaux! Oh Gardeil! You were each a marvel; you, for a woman´s tenderness; you, for a man´s ingratitude. Mademoiselle de La Chaux was an honest woman. She left her parents to throw herself into the arms of Gardeil. Gardeil had nothing, Madem

This Is Not the End by Shelby Davis

Contents: lists — all ye know on earth — death and mumbling — immanence — insect — ron — the appreciative life — harold — preservation — the thing with feathers

Author: Shelby Davis
Published: 2009
Language: English
Wordcount: 22,205 / 63 pg
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease: 68.8
LoC Category: PZ

Downloads: 826
Added to site: 2009.12.12
mnybks.net#: 26009
Origin: www.archive.org
License: by-nc-sa

Genres: Creative Commons, Short Story Collection, Post-1930

mor really a separate thing, that it could do that, exulting in its victory, like the winner in combat jumping up and down on the corpse of his opponent?

I hoped no one would notice me. It was a fairly large group, about thirty in all, and I was wearing black like the rest. The immediate family would probably recognize me if they did notice: we had exchanged words over the months of the deceased’s decline; I had invented a backstory about my own aunt’s convalescence to explain my perennial presence.

The retarded man was also standing in the back, opposite me. He was about ten feet behind the tightly packed group of mourners. It had begun to rain, a terribly clichéd graveside drizzling rain, and the mourners were tightly packed under the funeral-home provided canopy. The retarded man stood in the rain, one arm wrapped around the other, which awkwardly pointed down. He constantly shifted on his feet, as if the sound of spattering rain had awakened his bladder in him and he was fighting its

This Little Pig by Mary Robinette Kowal

Author: Mary Robinette Kowal
Published: 2007
Language: English
Wordcount: 4,826 / 14 pg
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease: 92.2
LoC Category: PS

Downloads: 693
Added to site: 2008.08.22
mnybks.net#: 21837
Origin: www.maryrobinettekowal.com
License: by-nc-nd

Genres: Creative Commons, Post-1930, Short Story

and he heard footsteps and laughter.

“Hey, Aage,” Lasse held a towel and a coverall. “Let’s hose you off again.”

Aage frowned. “Where’s Concetta?”

“She’s round the other side of the van.” He smirked. “Want me to call her?”

Aage’s eyes widened and he waved his hands. “No! No, no, no. I just didn’t see her.” He looked at the towels and coveralls again. “Where’d you get those?”

“Concetta brought them.”

Every time Aage stepped, his wet underwear shifted and clung to his body. The briefs slowly tried to climb up the crack between his buttocks, aiming to be the world’s worst wedgie. With the van behind them, there was no way Aage was going to reach back to free his briefs.

Concetta was behind him. The only girl he knew that had seen an MG-TD. Heck, the only girl he knew who could drive. She had driven one. This goddess of the road was behind him, watching his scrawny legs pick their way down the driveway. Aage wrapped his arms around himself and shivered again.

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