Accidental Moon: Difference between revisions
CharlieCon (talk | contribs) m (changed category) |
(Added the complete description) Tag: visualeditor |
||
| Line 17: | Line 17: | ||
According to [[Justin Richards (The Secret Lives of Monsters)|Justin Richards]], the novel was "not kindly reviewed". ([[PROSE]]: ''[[The Secret Lives of Monsters (novel)|The Secret Lives of Monsters]]'') | According to [[Justin Richards (The Secret Lives of Monsters)|Justin Richards]], the novel was "not kindly reviewed". ([[PROSE]]: ''[[The Secret Lives of Monsters (novel)|The Secret Lives of Monsters]]'') | ||
{{quote|If only I could speak. My voice seemed cleft to the back of my throat. A situation that only worsened as [[Judoon|the behemoth]] reached up and unfastened [[Judoon captain (Smith and Jones)|his]] helmet. With a hiss that might have been that balloon in my chest rupturing, the clasps released. Despite what I had already seen, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw beneath the helmet. The wrinkled skin, like old cork. The eyes set deep in the face - if you could even call it such. Ears so small they could have been the afterthought of some cosmic designer of monstrosity. And horns!|An | {{quote|Huge leather-clad creatures stomped across the foyer, marching in step like some bizarre battalion of soilders just back from yomping across the Welsh mountains rather then the lunar craters. | ||
The leader stopped right in front of me, my head level with his chest. I looked up at the opaque mask of his helmet, a strange jutting shape that protruded out from the body. I could feel the fear growing inside me like an inflating balloon, ready to burst at the prick of a pin. The other staff gathered behind me, clearly seeing me as their resultant spokesman. | |||
If only I could speak. My voice seemed cleft to the back of my throat. A situation that only worsened as [[Judoon|the behemoth]] reached up and unfastened [[Judoon captain (Smith and Jones)|his]] helmet. With a hiss that might have been that balloon in my chest rupturing, the clasps released. Despite what I had already seen, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw beneath the helmet. The wrinkled skin, like old cork. The eyes set deep in the face - if you could even call it such. Ears so small they could have been the afterthought of some cosmic designer of monstrosity. | |||
And horns! | |||
Behind me, I heard the horrified gasps of my colleagues. The embarrassing sound of Hazel Magee fainting dead away at the horrendous and impossible sight. My first thought, though, despite all this, was|An Except from Accidental Moon}} | |||
{{TitleSort}} | {{TitleSort}} | ||
[[Category:Fiction books]] | [[Category:Fiction books]] | ||
Revision as of 21:02, 27 August 2021
Accidental Moon was a novel written by Oliver Morgenstern based on the events at Royal Hope Hospital and his experience with the Judoon. Characters in the novel include the narrator - Morgenstern - and Hazel Magee, a colleague.
According to Justin Richards, the novel was "not kindly reviewed". (PROSE: The Secret Lives of Monsters)
Huge leather-clad creatures stomped across the foyer, marching in step like some bizarre battalion of soilders just back from yomping across the Welsh mountains rather then the lunar craters.
The leader stopped right in front of me, my head level with his chest. I looked up at the opaque mask of his helmet, a strange jutting shape that protruded out from the body. I could feel the fear growing inside me like an inflating balloon, ready to burst at the prick of a pin. The other staff gathered behind me, clearly seeing me as their resultant spokesman.
If only I could speak. My voice seemed cleft to the back of my throat. A situation that only worsened as the behemoth reached up and unfastened his helmet. With a hiss that might have been that balloon in my chest rupturing, the clasps released. Despite what I had already seen, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw beneath the helmet. The wrinkled skin, like old cork. The eyes set deep in the face - if you could even call it such. Ears so small they could have been the afterthought of some cosmic designer of monstrosity.
And horns!
Behind me, I heard the horrified gasps of my colleagues. The embarrassing sound of Hazel Magee fainting dead away at the horrendous and impossible sight. My first thought, though, despite all this, was
