When an author dies, new novels are still

When an author dies, new novels are still published, especially if the author dabbles in ghostwriting. Jimmy Raven hovered over the blank page like a miasmal cloud. Romance novels

put bread on the table but just about killed his writing spirit. Now he was dead, he'd write his opus unfettered by pulpy drivel. His ash condensed to letters on the page. "Chapter

Zero, Preface to Chapter One: The sun rose over the horizon like a great big radioactive baby’s head with a bad sunburn but then again it might just have been that Lisa was

unaccustomed to the harsh rays of daylight. Lisa had just come out of experimental hibernation. She braced herself on the vault door and peered at the horizon. She overslept.

And it was gone. The city had been razed. The sight of the grey smoldering ruins knocked the wind out of her. She had to get back to the right time. She needed to find

penis, and she needed to do it fast if she were going to fulfill her parents' hope for her to procreate and perpetuate their pathetic family line.

Her parent's hope to extend their pathetic family line overshadowed her life. Her parents would pressure her at work with, "Have you had sex today?" Her boss didn't appreciate

the interruptions and asked them to leave. She thanked her boss Mr. Wang for getting her parents to back off. The truth was she was active. Just that afternoon, she had plans to

tell Mr Wang he was going to be a father. He experienced a range of emotions starting at A for amazement to Z for zestfulness. Just as he was going through M for maudlin, she got