By Joseph S. Pulver
Whilst Joe Pulver approached S. T. Joshi approximately doing an anthology like his now-famous tome Black Wings, just for Robert Chambers' King in Yellow, Joshi had just one factor to say:
"You do it, Joe."
So he did.
And the following it really is: A Season In Carcosa.
H.P. Lovecraft. Karl Edgar Wagner. Peter Straub. these are the various names that stand tall in our style and in terms of Robert W. Chambers and his King in Yellow they agree, Chambers' beguiling stories of the King In Yellow and Carcosa are one of the best in "weird" fiction. Miskatonic River Press and Joseph S. Pulver, Sr. are proud and thrilled to provide an anthology of all new stories encouraged by means of Chambers.
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Additional info for A Season in Carcosa
When he was clearheaded and had none of the stuff in him, he realized that his delight in the dreams meant he was losing hold of reality. He was accepting fantasy for experience, and that horrified him. He was quite aware that he yearned for the dreams because they were the only way he could ever know sexuality; they were an entire world he had never envisioned or expected to experience. But this alone, he argued, was no reason to give in to them. His life had been built on battles, and if he were to lose one to a mere chemical substance when he had won so many against tough human adversaries, it was all a sham.
You made a mistake going to Miss London for this. She just has no concept of how to be devious. Sure, Kealy hates me, but he fears me more. There were other men who would have sold me out. " At first Ti was intensely pleased at the implication that they were not going to kill him. Then he realized that they would forgo that alternative only if Jon Margle had come up with something even more frightening. " he asked, hoping he would hear the alternative now, would not have to lie here and wonder about it.
Ti held the hands on him a moment more, then released them lest he kill the man. Without looking up, he directed the servos at the door where Margle had been waiting, hoping to catch the man off guard. "Nice try," Margle said from behind him, near the bed. " Ti turned, discouraged, and saw the Brother holding the same ornate throwing knife he had used to cow the mutant days earlier. The moment of hope that had flowered in him low withered and died, rotted down in the depths of him. He turned and went back to the bed, with his servos floating to either side.