Thursday, June 9, 2022

New iHero story from yours truly! The first in at least ten years!

If you missed any of the earlier notices, iHero Entertainment has found new life at That's where new stories in the fan-favorite and award-winning fiction zine (both e-zine and magazine) will be debuting for the foreseeable future. It already features tales by iHero creator Frank Fradella and staff writer Matt Hiebert, and now I've published my first new iHero story to the site -- "Glissando." 

It's right here:

Here's a taste. 

(Language warning for those who care about such things.)

What a fucking job. Pushing a fucking plastic cart around and picking up dog shit and trash for eight hours a day when he should be headlining at least the lower rent bars in the downtown piss holes of the big cities down here in the Southeast. Latex gloves and dog shit. What a fucking job.

He was a fucking rock and roll guitarist. Born and bred. And gifted beyond the ken of mortal men and all that shit.

No. Seriously. Gifted. Gif-fucking-ted. Like a superhero for the rock and roll set. As stupid as it sounds.

“Not all people who are born with super-normal powers can fly or pick up tanks, son,” his dad, a two-bit prick he had called Thomas and never Dad had told him enough times to make it into a mantra. “Some of us have to find more subtle uses for our abilities.”

“Yes, Thomas,” he had said at the time, not really caring. He had been too busy dreaming of costumes and colors.

Thomas Hadensmith was dead now, of course, died a few weeks after he ran off on Tommy and his mom with a little redheaded saxophone player from Memphis. The old man had called her Belle, for Memphis Belle, and he laughed like it was the funniest fucking joke in the world every time he told it. Even when he told it on the day he left.

Read the full story:

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