Though I’ve been there countless times, it’s only fairly recently that my wife and I have taken to wearing costumes. This began when we rented one of their costumes near the front gate on a whim and has since turned into our closets having multiple options for each time we go. The latest of these is my brand new tartan kilt. (Side note: It wasn’t Scottish weekend, so I was technically not dressed appropriately, but if you’ve ever been to a Renn Faire, you know that is the case for almost everyone. I’m looking at you, guy in a goat furry costume.)

The tartan I bought – and believe me, I spent several seconds “researching” this online – belongs to the Clann Donnchaidh, also known as Clan Robertson. It’s the hunting variety of tartan for the clan. I chose it because my grandmother is a Collier and Colliers are a sept associated with Clan Robertson. So I figured, if I’m going to get a kilt, it might as well be tangentially related to my family.

Speaking of family, my wife’s father is incorrigible. Here he is checking to see if I wore the traditional kilt undergarments, i.e. nothing.

So why do I keep going back to the Renn Faire? It’s fun, the shows are entertaining, and there’s plenty of the frothy ale flowing. That said, the really great part is the continuation of a string of memories filtering back through most of my life…

…the time I bought a sword as a teenager, which I still have to this day under my bed. My wife jokes that it’s our home defense strategy, but that sword’s old blade couldn’t hold an edge even when it was brand new. It is, however, heavy as hell, so perhaps I could knock out a would-be home invader with it, if I could just avoid killing anyone else mid-swing.

…the time my friends and I went to the fairgrounds in winter and “broke in.” We slipped through a VERY large gap under a gate and walked around in the empty place, just looking at the closed and forlorn shops and restaurants in the dark woods. Finally, we stumbled upon the camper home of the winter caretaker, who was watching TV inside and fully unaware of us. Still, we ran away and left, fearing to be caught.

…the time my father-in-law (see photo above) paid the belayer at the castle wall rock climb $5 to yank me all the way to the top. I happily squeezed the stuffed toy dragon up there to win my coveted certificate of achievement.

…the time I rode an Indian elephant with my daughter. I remember how thick its individual hairs were, like little bits of wire poking out of its skin. I remember my daughter amazed at the experience, just as I was. We both had our first elephant ride at the same time.

…the many times we saw Shakespeare Skum performing a hilarious, rushed version of one of the Bard’s plays.

…the many times we saw Daniel Duke of Danger perform atop multiple unstable bits of metal tubes all rolling in different directions, yet he was still able to balance on them. I know it’s an act, but it definitely was one that took skill and a heck of a lot of practice. No doubt a few thousand bruises and maybe some broken bones, too.

…the many, many times we saw Johnny Fox, sword swallower extraordinaire, perform his funny and amazing act, via the magical influence of “waters from India.”

…the many, many, many times we shouted HUZZAH! at the joust.

…but mostly, the countless times we laughed, met up with friends and family, threw axes, threw knives, threw throwing stars, got steak on a stake, watched a magician or band, occasionally got a turkey leg or Scotch egg, went through the maze, or – back when such a thing was still allowed – won a “FREE BEER!”

It’s been so many years of so many memories, my wife and I even decided to have our 20th anniversary remarriage there, officiated by my cousin, Tina.

Thanks, Maryland Renaissance Festival, for the memories. See you next year, and let merriment abound.

The post Kilty Pleasures appeared first on Keith Soares.

With many famous families, at least one member decides to break out and try things on their own. If that happens with the Adams family, it will no doubt be daughter Zelda. She’s required to handle significant portions of this movie on her own and does well. I can’t say the same for the other half of this mother/daughter movie, as I’m not too fond of Toby Poser’s acting. C’est la vie. Still, Poser is effectively creepy, so her role in Hellbender is well-served in that respect.

Hellbender is a slow burn, far too slow for my tastes, and its home grown roots are apparent far too often (especially in the thankfully brief scenes featuring Lulu Adams, who doesn’t carry nearly the weight on screen as her sister). Special effects are used sparingly, and some are effective, though not the ones that look like they’re stock elements from AfterEffects. The multiple mom/daughter punk band scenes are excessive, and even the first one seems hard to believe. Most of the budget seems to have been spent on fake blood and an oft-used drone camera (with Zelda listed in the credits as drone operator).

As a drummer, I like the fact that every home in this movie seems to come with a kit, but I take issue with the moment where one set of drums – left outside by a pool near an always-rainy forest – is claimed to be “vintage.” Even if you know nothing about drums, you wouldn’t leave yours outside, would you?

My main gripe with Hellbender is that it seems like it’s going nowhere for far too long. When other people appear in the mother/daughter’s insular world, they quickly disappear, and not always violently like you’d expect in a horror movie. Please tell me what the park ranger scene added to this film. Even when Zelda’s supposedly naive character, Izzy, has major revelations, she seems to take them far too much in stride. Hellbender burns through most of its runtime to finally get to the point of everything, and while I’ll admit I liked much of the final act, the preceding bulk of the film was longer than necessary.

Once more, the Adams family inflicts bodily harm upon each other throughout the movie, and yep, that’s still disturbing in a very meta sort of way. The problem is that it isn’t very good in a movie sort of way.

In its final moments, Hellbender burns up all its previously-unused budget with a few interesting effects, but even the tension of its last scenes seems subdued.

Overall, I liked the mythology they created with this film, and I think the premise of dropping it into a modern setting was a good starting point, but it was just too slow for me to sink my teeth into, pun definitely intended.

Hellbender (2022)

Written, directed by, and starring the Adams family

My rating:

The post Hellbender – Movie Review appeared first on Keith Soares.

“The Wind,” an impressive debut feature film by director Emma Tammi, stars Caitlin Gerard as the central character, Lizzy. There are other actors in the film – a slight few – but really, this is a movie about Lizzy alone.

Be forewarned. The proceedings take a while to grasp because the film is intentionally showing only what you need to know, or, more likely, what Lizzy remembers, in a disjointed order. In truth, because I wasn’t familiar with any of the actors prior to this film, it took me a little time to figure out who was who, especially when the scenes cut dramatically and seemingly at random.

Stylistically, the story is a mashup of the horror and western genres, with Lizzy and her husband, Isaac, living in a remote prairie location, probably set in 19th century Midwestern America. This is the kind of movie that never truly clarifies such details. In fact, many things are left without clarity, but there are enough clues as you sweep through Lizzy’s memories that you can come up with your own take on what you’ve witnessed by the end of it all.

The catalyst that sets things in motion is the arrival of a second couple who take up residence in a nearby abandoned cabin. These newcomers, Emma and Gideon, seem ill-fitted for life on the plains. Gideon in particular needs a lot of help from Isaac right from the start, creating a slow-brewing tension between the characters and their multiple crossed pathways. Are the men a good paring, working together? Or, for that matter, are the women?

With the viewpoint tightly focused on Lizzy at all times, she can appear alone even when other characters are right next to her. However, as the tensions and scenes play out, we soon discover that Lizzy’s point of view is unreliable, and her own memories sometimes don’t gel with one another. There’s an explanation to all these goings on, but the screenwriter, Teresa Sutherland, and director deftly opt to let things simmer. Scenes start and end without warning, and the viewer is left to connect the dots.

Note: I don’t think my comments below are spoilers, as I have opted to tell as little as possible, but if you want to go into this film blind, skip the rest of this review. This is the kind of film where knowing nothing ahead of time will increase your confusion but may increase your enjoyment.

Everything is upended when Emma dies violently. This tragic event causes Lizzy to be left on her own for a few days – and nights – and while she is well and truly alone, things become even more perplexing. There are wolves and winds and night terrors and a fever, at least by Lizzy’s recollection. Seeing this lonely prairie life through Lizzy’s lens, we have to wonder if what we’re being shown is what happened, or what Lizzy believes happened. Even with the best intentions – and those aren’t always on display here – a person’s recollections can drastically disagree with reality.

Eventually, Lizzy’s alone time is interrupted by the arrival of another character, a traveling reverend, but even then, the tight focus on Lizzy, her point of view and her perceptions, makes it hard to know what is truth.

Watching this film, I couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like to live in such a remote and potentially inhospitable place all by myself. I can see why Lizzy keeps her side-by-side shotgun near at hand, and why she’s so familiar with how to use it. It is, as she clearly states, her gun.

The final moments of “The Wind” wrap up its tale in probably the only way possible. The way foreshadowed from the beginning and from the very essence of its style and cinematography. When Lizzy finds herself once more alone, is she liberated, or is she terrified? The film lets you decide.

The Wind (2018)

Directed by Emma Tammi, written by Teresa Sutherland

My rating:

This is the first movie review I’ve done, and I plan to continue adding reviews at random intervals in the future. They won’t necessarily be for the latest films, but rather things that I come across of interest. Many will be horror, though I will also review sci fi and fantasy as possible. Generally, I only plan to post a review when a movie has some merit, though if I come across something particularly awful, I may feel obligated to discuss that, too. Hope you enjoy my take on these films.

K.

The post The Wind – Movie Review appeared first on Keith Soares.

Anyway, here’s my take on Godzilla arriving at Toronto:

So you won’t be surprised to learn that I’ve seen this year’s top grossing US-made film, Godzilla vs. Kong, about seven times (and counting; I’m planning to get a copy soon). Yes, I realize that me seeing this film so many times contributed to its box office status, so that’s a little self congratulatory. I digress.

But the guy in the photo below? True story: That guy showed up to a movie set one day thinking he was going to help train some actors with motion capture, but instead they turned to him and said, “You’re Godzilla.” Some guys have all the luck.

His name is TJ Storm, meaning that he has both a cool job AND a cool name. And if you aren’t a huge Godzilla fan (I’ll try to forgive you), he also has done mo-cap work in the Marvel Cinematic Universe as Iron Man, Groot, and Rocket Racoon.

If you want to find out a little more about TJ Storm and what it’s like to be the motion capture actor for big name roles, check out this article: https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/genre-mvp-the-motion-capture-actor-whos-played-groot-godzilla-and-iron-man

And if you care to see my entire ever-evolving collection of personally photoshopped Godzilla images, they can be found at my Facebook page, here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?vanity=KeithSoaresAuthor&set=a.1444717255596313

I’m such a kaiju fan that I’ve even created a few of my own. Their names are Gorgol Alpha, Gorgol Omicron, Gorgol Sigma, and Gorgol Tau, and you can find them in my John Black series of books. Here’s a conceptual look at Gorgol Alpha:

In fact, that’s Gorgol Alpha who appears on the cover of John Black book 2, And It Arose From the Deepest Black.

The post Go Go Godzilla appeared first on Keith Soares.

by Keith Soares

Finally I am a full-fledged wizard, one of the greatest masters of the magical arts in our times.

It wasn’t without substantial effort, believe me.

It started when I found the book. I assure you that this was a completely innocent affair. I was perusing the local thrift shop and certainly not expecting to discover such a life-changing tome. Nevertheless, there it was; near the back, on a dusty shelf so easy to overlook. Perhaps an ancient wizard had died, and in their stupidity, his family or possibly the state had sold off his possessions, not knowing the importance. I’ll simply call it a moment of fate. I bought A Wizard’s Guide to Magicks for two dollars and ninety-seven cents, after tax.

Can you imagine the luck? The doorstep to immutable power for less than three bucks?

I started, as one would expect, from page one. Words of Power. These words must not be spoken aloud without clear intent. I guard them carefully now, as they are the foundation of my abilities. The first one I ever uttered was natruka. It means disruption in the ancient tongue of magicians. I don’t think I pronounced it right at first, because it took several dozen attempts before I had results. When it happened, the signs were small, I admit, but obvious. The light bulb above the kitchen table fizzled out when I spoke the word on perhaps the fiftieth try, and I knew I was on the pathway to an unbelievable future. 

Back then, things were different. My small apartment, 31C in the Coronado complex, the same place I still inhabit, was unpleasant. Infested with bugs. God, I hated them. For weeks, I scoured the book, looking for a way to rid myself of those damned bugs. I found an enchantment, said to control any sort of creature. I repeated it a hundred times a day at least. I didn’t eat, barely slept. A week passed, then several more. The stove sat unused, the fridge empty, even the trash cans devoid of waste. I was obsessed. And then it happened. The bugs disappeared. My spell eradicated them from the apartment. I was positively gleeful.

Still, I moved on. The weather. That was my next fascination. I found a spell for lightning, and repeated it, day after day, perfecting its inflection. On the thirty-seventh day, I succeeded. A storm brought heavy rains, and lightning struck one of the tallest buildings in the city. I saw it on the news. I knew then that I could become a wizard in truth.

I began a new test. Perhaps the thing that would secure my status and confirm my abilities: the death chant. 

I’d hated my elderly neighbor, Timothy, since the day he complained to management that I was too loud. That my repeated shouts and cries in some foreign tongue frightened him. It was then that I swore I would kill him.

Page 247 of the book held the necessary words of power. Bidu nehirus cotina sebari. “I command away your life.” I recited this daily, directed at Timothy, though for so long my inflection, my pronunciation, was inferior. It didn’t work. 

After a year, I knew it would be my final test, the thing that would either make me a wizard or become my albatross. I spoke the words constantly. Still Timothy lived. Three more years went by.

His family came to visit, just about a week ago. There were many of them, as if they felt obligated to come. He greeted them at his door, just across the hallway from mine, with a weak smile. I saw it from my peephole as I repeated the spell in a hushed voice. 

Then, six days later, it happened. Timothy died. The family came once more to his doorway, this time in somber silence, like they knew it was coming. They’re still in his apartment now, mourning his death.

I did it.

I imagine some have felt remorse at crossing this threshold, but all I can think about is my success. I have become a true wizard. It took six and a half years, alone, locked in my apartment, but it happened!

My next enchantment is immortality. I wonder how long that will take.

Copyright 2021 Keith Soares / Bufflegoat Books LLC

The post Flash Fiction: “The Wizard of Coronado Apartments” appeared first on Keith Soares.

Oh, and for the record, we’ve now lived through Akira, Blade Runner, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, The Road, and Pacific Rim. Given the realities of 2020, the fact that only Pacific Rim was set in that year makes me think we would have had an easier time living through the kaiju attack. Plus, we would have had jaegers, and that would’ve been cool.

Without further ado, here is my revised chart of movies set in the next few years, The Future’s So Bright (Movies set between 2021 – 2035).

Wow. That’s a lot of new and mostly terrible options for our future. I mean, this year alone, we are expected to have The Purge (which, honestly seems like it’s already underway).

2022 was featured in Bill and Ted Face the Music, which is one of the few movies on this graphic that is generally uplifting, with a happy ending. Unfortunately, I can’t remember what part of the movie is supposed to take place this year. I hope it’s not when they go to hell.

In 2023, we get to look forward to Avengers: Endgame, but while that means Thanos is defeated, we do have the slight problem of a sudden vacuum in a major position of authority.

When we get to 2024, we can all enjoy the boyish antics of our beloved Spider-Man, but four years later, we plummet into The Cloverfield Paradox and then there are multiple Earths and frankly bad things go down all around.

We take a 2 year breather before laboring through the final days of Logan, only 1 year before we all have to get on a train and constantly circle the globe due to a climate disaster. Of all the movies on this graphic, Snowpiercer may be the most ludicrous one. I’m kinda shocked they opted to make it into an ongoing TV series, given that it seemed to be a pretty implausible concept for only a 2 hour film.

In 2033, Tank Girl comes to kick our butts, and then at long last, we reach the year 2035.

What would you like to see happen in 2035? Take your pick:

• Earth is generally as it is now, but we send a crew to Mars and strand one guy there by mistake. Luckily, he’s a survivalist ninja. The Martian
• Those darned kaiju come back and now we need to get even more badass jaegers to fight them. Pacific Rim: Uprising
• We reeeeeeaaally hope that advanced, self-aware robots will adhere to Asimov’s 3 laws. And of course, they don’t. I, Robot
• Or finally, if you’d really like a trip, witness yourself being shot after bouncing around through time chasing down the people responsible for releasing a virus that wipes out most of mankind (like we need another). 12 Monkeys

Select carefully. We’re all counting on you.

The post Back to the Future, 2021 edition appeared first on Keith Soares.

by Keith Soares

Standing high on the fortress wall above my opponent, I deflected his bullet as easily as a thousand before, yet in that moment I knew something had forever changed. As the projectile ricocheted off my blade, it crackled apart, each individual piece emitting a faint, high-pitched drone. I knew the sound despite the unexpected source, and I knew it meant death.

Deliberately I drew a breath, estimating my life had no more than two breaths to go. I tried to think what to do, but a man cannot outrun fate. Life had shown me much.

Summoning the strength of my line, 600 years of Sho-ja, I went into a meditative trance, waiting.

Sho-ja Nonen, Pinnacle of the Pyramid, father of my forefathers, was the first. He didn’t invent the nanosword, but he became its supreme master, wielding it in a way that no other could match. At the height of the War for the Nhin Lands, when Maru and the Hol-nari – marshals of the air – descended upon him, Nonen’s nanosword whirled faster than light, destroying all who faced him. It crackled apart with each blow, then reformed, ready to slay again, until Nonen found himself surrounded by thirteen Hol-nari warriors. In desperation, he splintered his nanosword to deliver death simultaneously, a technique later called doli-ki-wobokai – The Death of the Thirteen. No man had ever seen its equal, and, though it killed his foes, it left Nonen exposed. Maru saw his opening and dove from the sky, but Nonen willed his sword back together at the last moment. The weight of Maru’s own winged steed impaled him upon Nonen’s blade. Victorious, Sho-ja Nonen became the first ka-liph. 

Over the years of Sho-ja rule, our enemies tried to break the ka-lipha to no avail, for the nanosword – thousands of deadly particles controlled by the hilt of a sword, forming a blade, breaking apart, and forming again, endlessly – was given not only to the ruling few but to every soldier in the Sho-ja army. Certainly no commoner matched Nonen’s skill – he was the Pinnacle of the Pyramid – but a thousand nanoswordsmen of average ability could defeat any opposing force.

In time, peace grew, and Nonen ruled by word rather than deed. He begat twins: son Jiku and daughter Loren-wo, who became Grand Masters, the Second and Third Stones of the Pyramid.

Generations of Sho-ja came and went, filling the Pyramid with their revered names. Nanosword masters like Cantu, Hi-ko, and Newa-vuku. Each was ranked for their skill with the blade, yet none surpassed the trio at the top.

As the centuries passed, my family survived countless attempts to end our rule, both from within and from foreign invaders. In the Later Years, ships came, bearing new technologies like the rifle and pistol. But mere bullets were no match for a nanosword properly wielded. 

Forty-nine Sho-ja, my forefathers and mothers, made up the Pyramid by the day I was born, yet only those first three were sacred Grand Masters, as dictated by our lore.

Until I was tested. 

After disease took my father, my mother ruled the Nhin Lands – and raised me – alone. Certainly we had servants, more than I could ever count. But to learn the nanosword, learn to love the high-pitched drone of its deadly particles? To learn to rule? Those things my mother taught me. 

At my test, the elders fell silent. They consulted their scrolls and conferred in whispers. An argument broke out, and my mother interceded. When order was restored, I was given my place – Seventh Stone of the Pyramid – to gasps from the assembled elite. No Sho-ja had ranked higher than Twentieth in a hundred years, yet I was enraged. It should have brought me great joy and unending pride to see my name – Sho-ja Kelen – placed in such a lofty position, but I was too young to understand my folly, that the world does not change gently.

I knew I had excelled at the standard moves and dazzled in free battle. No living soul was my equal, but I desired to best those who were not living – the Grand Masters. I attempted the doli-ki-wobokai – The Death of the Thirteen – and, to the astonishment of all, I succeeded. In history, only Nonen and I had ever done such a thing. Though I didn’t wish to supplant the Pinnacle himself, in my hubris I expected Second Stone; the first Grand Master in almost 600 years. I was denied. 

Many years later, on her deathbed, my mother gave me wise council. “Kelen, you cannot alter history without a cost,” she said. “If you teach the world the Grand Masters can be beaten, you take away their divinity. And if you do that, the world will learn that you, too, can be beaten.”

Now, I was.

Above my head, I heard the nanoparticles of the bullet circle, preparing to loop down upon me, a thousand strong. I couldn’t possibly deflect so many with my blade. The Death of the Thirteen happened only twice in a millennium. I wouldn’t discover a Deflection of the Thousand before I drew my final breath.

Breaking from my trance, I studied the moment, the last things this life would give to me. I blinked at the setting sun telling me my days were ending, and smelled the brine of the nearby sea. I felt the chill of the evening air on my cheeks, and the familiar texture of leather on the hilt of my sword. I listened to the whir of the particles shepherding in my demise.

This new and deadly swarm fell toward me, something I’d never seen before – a nanobullet. Far below, my opponent smiled. Yet I still held the sword passed down to me from my mother, and knew one thing: the world does not change gently. If this was the end of the Sho-ja, then I would make it worthy of my line. I echoed the smile of my opponent, placing one foot upon the ledge directly above him, and his grin faded. As death rained down, I knew it was time to see if Sho-ja Kelen truly deserved the title Grand Master.

I jumped.

Copyright 2021 Keith Soares / Bufflegoat Books LLC

The post Flash Fiction: “The Setting Sun” appeared first on Keith Soares.

by Keith Soares

Because the world was unjust.

That’s why he created the machine.

“Will you help me build it?” he asked his son.

“I don’t understand any of it.”

“But you agree we need it?”

“Of course. Our leaders lie to us, they only want to make themselves seem greater. They try to divide us, not unite us, to maintain their power.”

“Yes,” the father said.

“And the people who should protect us too often only protect themselves. Especially when one of their kind does something terrible.”

“Yes, that too. The machine will fix all of that.”

“But, father, there are other problems. Our climate is changing. Won’t your machine make that worse?”

“No. The heat of the world itself powers it, and the machine will change things. Make them better.”

“What will it do?” the son asked. He followed his father to their garage where the machine sat unfinished, a boxy thing no bigger than the car that used to fill this space.

“Once the machine is turned on, fossil fuels won’t burn anymore. It will force the world to use renewable energy sources. Once it’s on, people won’t be able to say angry words. Their voice will be silenced. They won’t be able to harm one another. Their muscles won’t work to perform those acts. People’s minds will be made to forget ideas of cruelty and hatred. Any terrible thoughts will simply disappear. Things will be as they should be. As they always should have been.”

“How can one machine do all that?”

“It’s very smart. It has to be.”

“But it just looks like a metal box, wires.”

“It is right now. It doesn’t have its brain yet. That’s why I need your help.”

“I told you. I don’t understand any of this. I don’t know how it works, so I can’t help you. Not really.”

“You can,” the father said. “I’ll tell you exactly what to do. I’ll get inside the machine, and when I’m ready, you’ll turn it on.”

“With you inside?”

“Yes. I told you it needs a brain.”

“How long will it take? How long will you be inside?”

“Forever, son.”

“But I don’t want you to go!”

“Son, you yourself said we need this. The world needs this.”

“And I need a father!”

“I’ll still be here. Just in the machine. My brain will be its brain, saving the world from itself.” The father climbed into the machine and carefully connected himself to it. “I’m ready now. Turn it on.”

The son started to cry, but he knew his father was right. The world had to change. Had to be made better. He turned on the machine.

It took a few seconds, but only a few. Out on the street, the son heard a car sputter and die. He looked at his father, trapped in the machine, but the sadness vanished from his mind. He wiped the tears from his cheeks and walked away, leaving his father forever forgotten and alone.

Because the world was unjust.

Copyright 2021 Keith Soares / Bufflegoat Books LLC

The post Flash Fiction: “Deus Ex Machina” appeared first on Keith Soares.

I’ve already posted that the book begins in Geneva, Switzerland. Extra credit for anyone who can guess another location from the book, based on the cover image. It’s a notably more obscure location, but recognizable from the image, and (once you get it), it makes perfect sense for the series.

The post Cover & Title Reveal: Lightning Hopkins book 3: Thunder appeared first on Keith Soares.

At long last, John Black has entered a new medium. Now, instead of merely reading his story, you can be immersed in it through the performance of voice actor Jacob McNatt.

The audiobook is rolling out on a whole slew of audiobook sales platforms – 43 to be exact, including (hopefully) all your favorites like Audible, Apple Books, Nook, Chirp, and many others. Not all of them are available as of this writing, so I’m including a list below with all the links I know about.

And you can check it out at the library via Bibliotheca!

Here’s the full list of distributors, with links as known (note that many of these are outside the US or app-based, so I will not be able to post links for those):

1. 24Symbols
2. Anyplay
3. Apple
4. Audible/Amazon
5. Audiobooks.com
6. AudiobooksNow
7. AudiobooksNZ
8. Authors-Direct.com
9. BajaLibros.com
10. Beek
11. Bokus Play
12. BookBeat
13. Bookmate
14. Chirp
15. Downpour
16. eStories
17. Fuuze
18. Google Play
19. Hibooks
20. Hummingbird Digital Media
21. Instaread
22. Rakuten Kobo
23. Leamos
24. Libro.fm
25. Nextory
26. Nook
27. Papaya FM
28. Scribd
29. Storytel
30. Ubook
31. 3 Leaf Group
32. Axiell
33. Baker & Taylor
34. Bibliotheca
35. Bidi
36. Ebsco
37. Follett
38. Hoopla
39. Mlol
40. Odilo
41. OverDrive
42. Perma-Bound
43. Wheelers

The post A John Black Audiobook! appeared first on Keith Soares.