Thursday 29 November 2012

Book of the Month Club - November 2012 - SCALPED Vol 1 - INDIAN COUNTRY

Since March of 2009, myself and a group of like minded comic enthusiasts have been meeting each month to discuss a book that has been picked by a member of the club to be read that month. We have read and discussed a variety of titles including; Watchmen, Preacher, Daredevil - Guardian Devil, Superman - Red Son, Judge Death - Boyhood of a Superfiend, Bakuman, A Right to be Hostile, GI Joe vol 1 and Neverwhere.
I would like to invite you all to join us, either physically each month if you live in the Kettering area and can attend the meetings, or virtually via this blog by reading the chosen book and voicing your opinions in our comments section. Each month I will post our thoughts on the pick as well as posting the name of the next months book.

This months pick...

SCALPED Vol 1 - INDIAN COUNTRY - (w) Jason Aaron (a) R.M. Guéra

In typical VERTIGO fashion, Scalped is anything but a typical comic book. It is the story of Dashiell Bad Horse, a Native American undercover FBI Special Agent sent home to the reservation he grew up in to uncover the corruption behind Chief Red Crow and his brand new hundred million dollar casino that is about to open. Dashiell joins Red Crows Police force and follows the Chiefs orders whilst reporting to his Federal superiors. But there is more to this story than is seen at first as we uncover pieces of Red Crows past with Dash's mother and peel away layers of his psyche as we discover his Mummy issues and his hang up on a childhood sweetheart. That is when he isn't busting up meth labs and beating the crap out of people. It is also a look at modern Native American culture.

Our thoughts on the book...

Mario - I used to love discovering new Vertigo books and devouring them. Some of the best series of comics I have ever read have come from the Vertigo imprint, Y the Last Man, Sandman, Swamp Thing and Preacher to name a few. This book seems set to fall in line with those too, though may or may not reach the level of greatness, has intrigued me enough to want to continue reading.
Jason Aaron has a knack for dialogue that makes this book very easy to read. His characters in this book are extremely well fleshed out and "real". Not much actually happens in this first volume, but the development of Dash, his mother, Red Crow and Carol all make for a very well written opening chapter to what will hopefully be another great Vertigo story. R.M. Guéra's artwork reminds me of Eduardo Risso's simplistic pencils, but with a bit more grit to it that gave the book the Noir/Western style that I think they were aiming for.
All in all, I really enjoyed this book and am looking forward to the sequel, but not enough happened for me to rave about it too much yet. 7/10

Alex - Generally enjoyed it, book has an unusual and interesting setting and characters to match. At this point the characters are fairly loosely defined, but you have a strong enough idea of who everyone is and there is the implication of greater nuance to be found later. I liked the art on a panel by panel basis, it's got quite a striking visual, but it's not always a clear style so characters aren't always immediately recognisable which can be a little confusing. I liked it and I would be interested in finding out where it goes, but I'm not entirely sure I was interested enough to carry on reading. 7/10

Amy - Scalped was an interesting read that combined unfamiliar settings and characters that are never what they first appear to be to create a story that is multi-layered and fascinating. The art stly suits the book well, though at times it is not always easy to see what is happening in the panels. Overall it is an entertaining read that sets up neatly for the next volume. 7/10

Stephen - I thought it would be a good book for book club as it is different from what we have read before. I am into Jason Aaron's work, reading Wolverine and the X-Men and Incredible Hulk and I met Guéra at the NICE convention. I was recommended this book at my local comic shop by lots of people, including the store owner. The art is gritty and amazing. All in all, the book is really good, a really good opening which kept me riveted throughout. 7/10

Cape Boy - I found it to be an ok book. I found that I was more interested in Red Crow and Nitz than the main character. I found Bad Horse to be too angsty, like batman in the 90's. Otherwise, it was fine, though there was too much t'n'a that was not really needed for story. It was alright. 6/10

Martin - I thought it was very bland. The characters were uninteresting and I thought the main character to be generic and angry for the sake of being angry, violent for the sake of it. Nothing gripped me about him. I found the setting interesting, an Indian reservation with massive alcoholism and unemployment, it was gripping and interesting and kept me with the story as I wondered what was going to happen to the place rather than characters. The art was ok, though it needs more t'n'a because everything else seemed bland and boring. was expecting more violence, sex and action. 5/10

Elaine - I enjoyed it as a read overall, though I didn't think it was particularly well written. It needed finishing to make it make more sense. I didn't like the flashbacks that much. Who was the thunder guy? I would have liked more focus on him, or maybe for him to be a narrator to hold it together. It was good and I want to see where it is going. 6/10

Lee - From the cover I was wondering what it was going to be about, a Native American with nunchucks. Very intriguing cover art. I found getting into it hard and the art jarring, I couldn't make out who was who. I liked the revenge aspect. I will probably pick up the next book. The main character is quite plain. He seems more like a henchman than a main character. I was more interested in FBI agent and guy with horse. All in all a good read. 7/10

So there you go. This is what our club members thought of SCALPED vol 1. Please leave your comments in the box below to give us your two cents or if you live in the Kettering area, why not pop along to our next meeting (message me for more details). Next months pick is GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY vol 1 - Legacy, by Dan Abnett, Andy Lanning and Paul Pelletier, so why not dig out a copy and give us your thoughts!

M X

Wednesday 28 November 2012

Hero Talk Episode 25

Hey Dudes and Dudettes! Available now to download onto your new fangled listening devices is Episode 25 of everybody's favourite comic book and geek related podcast - HERO TALK!

This week, James Lundy, Mat Guy, Dean Saul and myself discuss the rumours regarding Joseph Gordon Levitt picking up the mantle of the Bat in the upcoming Justice League movie, the trailer for All Superheroes Must Die, the tone of Iron Man 3 and the impact of the Amazing Spider-Man #700!!!


In Comics of Future Past, James discusses ROM - Space Knight, Mark Waid's The Indestructible Hulk and The Dresden Files!

All this plus much more on the best comic book podcast in the WORLD!!! :)

M X

- Subscribe via iTunes entering the following: http://www.heroesandidols.com/htalkpodcast.xml
- Download the mp3 via: www.heroesandidols.com/podcasts/htalkep25.mp3

Tuesday 27 November 2012

Short Stories #2.1

The Orphan
Chapter 1
by Mario Coleman 


The station wagon turned off the main road and towards a set of old iron gates that looked as if they had been painted green many years ago. Ritchie wasn’t quite sure what shade of green it was supposed to be, as the years had faded the verdant gates to a lighter aquamarine colour which was flaking off in chunks and revealing the rusty metal underneath. It made him feel uneasy, itchy and grubby. They reminded him of mouldy bread, of decay, as if the gates themselves were decomposing. Death had been on his mind a lot recently, which could be forgiven with the untimely passing of both of his parents. It wasn’t macabre, just his young mind trying to figure things out as best he could. The gates lurched open with a juddered motion and let out a sound like nails on a chalkboard, only the screech was like the chalkboard could feel the nails scraping against its slate face and was letting out a cry of anguished agony. The drive up to the house was shorter than he expected. From what he had read and seen on TV, mansions always had long driveways through trees and hedges shaped like weird and wonderful animals, which finally led to the front of the house, maids and butlers waiting outside to open the car door and welcome the new arrival. In actuality, from the gate there was about twenty yards of gravel, with patches of long grass and weeds poking through, which led to the main house. There was no one waiting outside. The front of the house also looked unkempt. Just like the gates it looked as if the white paint job had been done many years ago and hadn’t been maintained for almost as long. This was to be his new home and Ritchie hoped that the inside would be better than what he had seen so far. He opened the door himself and got out, giving a stretch as he had finally been able to step out from the car for the first time in a couple of hours. He had needed the toilet three service stations back but didn’t want to be a bother to the driver, so he held it in and was still in desperate need of the lavatory. He would have to wait a little while longer as two men emerged from the front door of the house, one a tall, thin man with thick coke bottle glasses and an even thicker wiry ginger beard. He looked a bit like a hippy with corduroy trousers and a Hawaiian shirt over a long sleeved t-shirt with a picture of a koala bear on it. In his right hand was a red clipboard with papers blowing in the breeze of the day. The other man looked more like a handy man, a bit grimy and salt of the earth looking. He was wearing dungarees and a baseball cap that was so beat up that he must have been wearing it for years. He smiled a big grin and genuinely looked happy to see Ritchie.

“Hi!” said the ginger man. “You must be Ritchie. Welcome to Saint Jerome’s. This will be your new home for a while. I’m Peter, the administrator of the house and this here is George, the caretaker.”

“Pleased to meet you, son.” Said George, sticking out an oil stained hand which Ritchie sheepishly took and shook.

Peter continued “Let me take you around the house, show you your room and introduce you to the kids and some of the other members of staff.”

Ritchie took his suitcase from the boot of the car and followed Peter inside the house, entering the foyer. In front of them was a large wooden staircase leading to the upper floors. The walls were a light pistachio green and there were wooden double doors with large glass panels to the left and right. Peter led Ritchie through the door on the right and down a corridor illuminated with fluorescent lighting. This place looked more like a hospital than a home. Ritchie had to reassure himself that it was still early and that he would get used to it eventually. Hopefully.

Peter opened one of the doors on the left hand side of the corridor to a small room with a bed pushed up against the corner. It was neat, but bland as the walls were bare other than the pistachio green paint that followed him in from the corridor. “This is your new room.” Said Peter, still smiling. Ritchie took a good look around. There was a wooden wardrobe on one side pushed into an alcove in the wall and a bedside cabinet that looked to be made by the same joiner as the wardrobe with matching patterns carved in the edges with an identical router. “Right, why don’t you unpack and get settled and I’ll come back later to introduce you to the rest of the kids when they get back from school.” After making the statement, Peter gave a nod and turned and left the room closing the door behind him. Ritchie was alone again and scared. Too scared to look for a toilet or ask where one was, he sat on the bed in the far corner up against the wall in a foetal position and began to cry. Tears stung his eyes as he tried to hold on for as long as possible, but eventually his bladder couldn’t take it anymore and Ritchie wet the bed. He missed his Mummy. He just wanted a cuddle.

Katie heard the sobbing from down the hall and decided to investigate. She had heard that someone new was going to be living with her and the other kids at Saint Jerome’s and to be honest, she knew from experience that they all cry on their first night. She was twelve years old and had lived there for a third of that time and her years in the orphanage made her savvy, street wise and tough. Little Joey McClusky would often recant to the other children in the TV room of the time Steven Crabtree tried to take his magic wand, the special one that his Dad had made for him before he died, and Katie walked up to him and socked Stevie in the nose. Joey had always been grateful for that act of kindness and would probably find himself having a crush on Katie, if it wasn’t for the fact that girls are icky. She hated bullies more than anything, especially from within the house. They were all in this together and they should be there for each other, at least that is what she thought anyway. Right now she was concerned about who was crying down the hall, so she made her way to Ritchie’s room and knocked on the door.

“Hello? Are you OK?” asked Katie from behind the door. There was no answer, just more sobbing. Katie pushed the door forward and peered into the room. There was Ritchie, sitting on a now soaking wet bed, head buried in his arm as he attempted to hide his tear track marked face. “Come here.” She said as she sat next to him, pissy sheets be damned, and put her arms around him. He grabbed her tight and squeezed hard, as if he was worried that this would be the last hug he would ever get and he wanted to make the most of it. After a few minutes, Katie lifted his head by his chin to face her and finally got a look at the young boys face. He was a cute kid with a deer in the headlights look about him and she could tell that the shock of this transition hadn’t quite set in. She would have to look after him, at least for the first week or so. “C’mon kid. Let’s get these sheets to the laundry room before the other kids get back from school.”

Katie took Ritchie by the hand and led him down the corridor and round the corner to a set of stairs that led down into the basement. There they entered the laundry room, a large white room with several industrial sized washing machines and equally large dryers. Opening the large circular door, she threw the wet sheets into the machine and poured in a cup full of powder, closed it back up and turned the knob which sent the machine into a whirring frenzy. Sitting down opposite Ritchie on the bench that ran across the middle of the room, Katie began to question the boy. “So, what’s your name kid?” “Ritchie.” He replied sheepishly. “Well Ritchie, I’m Katie and you don’t need to be shy around me. I’ve been here longer than anyone and I’ve seen kids come and go for all reasons, so if you wanna talk to someone, or if anyone is giving you any hassle, you come find me. Ok?” Looking up at the girl, Ritchie could see sincerity in her eyes. It was the same look that his mother would give him when reminding him that she would always be there for him. Only this time she wasn’t. “Why aren’t you at school with the other kids?” He asked. Katie looked at him with a wry smirk as she responded. “I’ve been suspended this week for fighting.” “But you’re a girl!” exclaimed Ritchie. “So what?! I can whip most of the boys in my class. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I play with dolls and braid the other girl’s hair. Besides, the boy I beat up was a bully and he deserved it. You’re not a bully are you?” She asked him with a silly look on her face trying to get a smile out of the kid. “No.” he said with a smile. “Good! I wouldn’t want to have to give you a knuckle sandwich on your first day here.” Ritchie kept smiling. It was the first time he felt safe and comfortable since his parents died and he was happy to have found someone like Katie. “C’mon.” she continued. “Speaking of sandwiches, let’s get the table ready for dinner. Everybody will be back soon.” She put her arm out and draped it over Ritchie’s shoulder and led him out of the room.

The dining room was abuzz with sound and energy as the recently returned children sat around the table and gabbed about the various things that had currently held their interest. Robert was telling Jenny about his visit at his Grandma’s house this coming weekend. He was especially excited to see Grumbles, his Grandmothers cat. Rupert was moaning to Tilly about Mr Green, the maths teacher, and debating the real need for knowing Pythagoras’ rule in the real world. Suzie had the attention of four other girls who were keen to know if she would be going with Chris Cooper to the school disco, though the whole swooning over a boy thing just made Katie roll her eyes. Ritchie, who was sat in the far corner of the dining table next to Katie just sat quietly as he waited for dinner. “Hey Katie.” started Joey McClusky. “Tommy Edison is back at school. He’s really mad at you.” Katie looked at Joey with a look of disgust as she answered back. “Tommy is back at school and I’m still suspended?!” “You did beat him up though.” Joey replied. “Because he was stealing money from a bunch of eleven year olds. I had to do something.” “Yeah, but breaking his nose?” Steven Crabtree chimed in. “Don’t you think that was a bit harsh?” “I gave him a bloody nose, not a broken one. And trust you to stick up for another bully, you jerk!” Steven looked flustered and muttered under his breath “Dyke.” “What did you just call me?” Demanded Katie, looking angrier as she raised up out of her chair. “Nothing, nothing. I swear!” Insisted Stevie, holding his hands up and pleading innocence. Joey looked over at Ritchie and introduced himself. “Hi. I’m Joey. Are you the new kid?” “This is Ritchie.” Said Katie before Ritchie had time to answer. “Hi.” He said looking up from his place mat, one hand nervously held up in a wave. “So, how did your parents bite it?” tactlessly asked Stevie. “You’re out of line Stevie!” Katie was now back up out of her seat and almost ready to lunge at the boy. “What? We’re all here for the same reason, we’re all orphans. Let the kid tell his story. We’ve all had to at some point.” The rest of the room had fallen silent and all eyes were now on Ritchie. Even Katie was curious to find out. It was true that they were all orphaned, but maybe it was too soon. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to Ritchie.” She tried to reassure him, with one hand on his forearm, though she hated herself for hoping that he would. “Ok, I’ll tell you.” And Ritchie began to think back to that fateful night.

To Be Continued Next Week.

Thursday 15 November 2012

Short Stories #1



A Love Story
by Mario Coleman 

Timothy loved Rebecca in his own way. It wasn’t necessarily the way that she would want to be loved, it didn’t seem as if she was the woman that he had always wanted to be with, but she took what affection she was given by him and tried to understand as best she could that when you marry a widower, you have to realise that you are only second best in his eyes. She didn’t care. She loved Timothy with all of her heart and just being with him was reward enough for her. This weekend in particular was often difficult as her Mother’s birthday fell on the same weekend as his first wife’s passing and once again she would be making the drive up into the mountains to visit her family without him as he stayed behind to lay flowers on her grave and take time to think about his long lost love. She wasn’t jealous, though she would be lying if she said that she wouldn’t rather have him accompany her to visit her Mother, but she wanted nothing other than to keep him happy and by her side forever and if that meant making a sacrifice once a year, then so be it.

Timothy loved Rebecca in his own way. She was loving and compassionate and had the patience of a saint, but it didn’t stop him from missing Heather. It had been five years since the car accident that took her life and not a day had gone by that he hadn’t thought of her. He would close his eyes and feel her with him, her skin against his, smooth and soft, the way it would raise into goose bumps as he followed the curves of her body with his hands. The smell of vanilla from the soap that she used and the way that her lips tasted against his own. He would breathe her in if he could. Consume every inch of her. Hold her body against his own and feel her warmth for all of eternity if he could. But then he would open his eyes and she would be gone. Rebecca would still be there, to comfort him, to hold him, to give him somebody to hold, but it was never the same. He married so soon after Heather died because the loneliness was so numbing that he would rather be with someone that he could hopefully learn to love than to be alone.

Rebecca left the house first thing in the morning. She had a long drive ahead of her and she wanted to get to her Mother’s house before dark. She kissed Timothy good bye and stopped for a moment to look at the man she loved. His eyes seemed empty, like a blank canvas behind a pane of glass and she could tell that he wasn’t with her today. “I love you.” She gestured at him as she stood in the hallway, coat on, suitcase in hand. “I love you too.” He replied, his sincerity as lost as a Motherless child in a supermarket. She took what she could out of the words and turned to leave, endeavouring as best she could to see the positive in the situation.

The engine came to life and Rebecca pulled out of the driveway and Timothy could hear the car as it drove all the way up the street in the quiet of the early morning. He sat at the kitchen table with his black coffee, now as cold and bitter as he himself felt, and he closed his eyes. There was Heather, standing by the stove with her back to him. She was wearing the silk dressing gown that he had bought her for Christmas and the fabric accentuated her curves as it flowed down her back and over her rear. The smell of crispy bacon was dulled only by that of the warm coffee in front of him that kissed plumes of steam from the rim of the cup, up towards his nose. She turned to ask him a question, but the words were lost as her radiant smile seemed to distract him from the rest of the world. She followed up whatever it was that she had said with a giggle which made the corners of her mouth curl up and her nose wrinkle, a sight that always made his heart melt. The dressing gown had become loose at the front and was open ever so slightly, but enough for Timothy to catch a glimpse of the curve of her breast. He wanted to feel her against him, to hold her in his arms and caress her with his hands, he needed that sensation. As Timothy stood, his eyes opened and he found himself back in his stark reality, coffee cold and grim, heart bleak and sorrowful.

The house seemed dark after returning from the cemetery. Even turning on the lights didn’t seem to remove the gloom from every corner. Soon he would be expecting company and he wanted the house to seem fairly inviting. Around the living room were candles of various shapes and sizes and lighting them he took care not to disturb the rug that lay over the wooden floor in front of the now roaring fireplace. It had been five years since Heather passed, but tonight he would finally feel her warmth again.

There was a knock on the door and composing himself, Timothy stood, brushed himself down and went to greet his guest. As he opened the door he almost lost himself in a gasp as standing before him was a girl, no more than twenty one years old, with brown wavy hair and the body of Heather in her early twenties. She wasn’t perfect, her smile was a little crooked and her dress sense and makeup was more slutty than classy, but what did he expect from a prostitute. He had been vigilantly looking for someone who matched this woman’s description for a while now, since he visited the medium who gave him the instructions and finally, last month he stumbled across the ad for Victoria. She looked just enough like Heather to pass and was just what he was looking for. “Can I come in?” She asked. “It’s bloody freezing out here.” With a smile Timothy beckoned her into the house and invited her into the living room.
“Would you like a drink? Wine? Perhaps something hot to warm you up?” She replied; “Coffee would be nice.”
“Coming right up.” And he entered the kitchen. Hitting the switch on the kettle, Timothy grabbed a mug from the cupboard and added a spoon full of instant coffee. From his pocket he pulled out a white sachet, tore open the top and emptied the contents, a white sugary looking powder, in with the coffee granules. Once the kettle had boiled, he poured in the hot water and dissolved the mixture together into a dark liquid with dark consequences.

“So, what do you want to do?” Asked Victoria as she lay across the living room rug wearing nothing but titillating lingerie and her crooked smile. Timothy, who had just entered the doorway with the coffee in hand, knelt down beside her, handed her the mug and replied; “First I want you to drink your coffee. You’re freezing and I want you to be warm for me. Then you can take off the underwear, Heather would never wear anything like that.”
“Heather? So you want to role play. Who is she? A naughty nurse? A slutty schoolgirl? What do you want me to do?”
“You don’t have to worry about playing a part for me. Anything less than the real thing would never be good enough. Just drink your coffee and let’s get started.”
Taking a swig of the warm drink, Victoria began to remove her remaining clothes. Her bra slid off of her young supple breasts and revealed perky pink nipples that stood up in the cold. She turned slightly as she pulled her panties down over her firm round backside and from behind Timothy found it increasingly difficult to not believe that this was indeed his departed lover. Now completely naked, Victoria lay on the rug, warmed by the fire, her long sensuous legs parting and inviting him closer. “Take me.” She insisted as her eyes began to feel heavy and slowly, gently, she drifted into sleep.

Victoria awoke, not aware of how much or how little time had passed, but was suddenly aware that she was restrained in some sort of manacles that had her hands raised above her head and her feet fastened to the floor. A sudden wave of fear washed over her and for a time, she didn’t even realise that she was once again fully clothed, underwear and all, but not with her own clothes. She was dressed in a green dress that she had never seen before. “You’re awake.”  Said Timothy, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. “I’m so glad. I’ve been waiting a couple of hours, but now we can finally start.”
“What’s going on? What are you doing to me?” A petrified Victoria replied.
“Please don’t be worried. I need to borrow you for a little while, but once I’m finished you can leave, safe and sound, I promise.” Said Timothy.
“Why have you tied me up? Please don’t hurt me. What are you going to do to me?” Victoria pleaded.

“I don’t want a prostitute. I’m not looking for a fuck. My second wife is willing to fuck me whenever I want, but it isn’t the same, nothing has been the same since. When Heather died I was so in love with her that a part of me died too. I can still feel her in my memory, I still remember what it was like to hold her and feel her and make love to her, but it is only a memory. I hear a song and it reminds me of listening to that song in her company, but the song will finish and she drifts away as the music fades out. I want to feel her again. I miss her so much and I can’t bear to be without her for another day, let alone another year. So I visited as many mediums and psychics as I could find in hope that I could finally find a way to commune with her, to give myself some comfort. One of them has instructed me in a method of filling a vessel with her spirit and I have chosen you to be that vessel.”

“You’re mad!” Victoria screamed. ”HELP ME! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!”

“Please don’t scream.” Timothy replied calmly. “We are out of earshot of anyone that could help you, even if you were in danger, which you’re not. As soon as I am finished, I promise I will let you go. Now, I must finish the ritual.”

Rebecca returned home Sunday evening. She was tired from driving all day and all she wanted was to soak in the bath with a book and a cup of Hot Chocolate. That’s actually a lie, all she has ever wanted was for Timothy to love her as much as she loved him, but she has learned to keep her hopes more realistic. Walking up the drive way she sees a twitch in the curtains. Maybe he is waiting for me. Maybe he missed me as much as I missed him. She hoped as she pushed her key into the hole and twisted, opening the door. “Timothy. I’m home baby.” She called out as she entered the hall. There was a funny smell in the air, like melted wax and copper. “Timothy?” She called again as she entered the living room. She screamed in horror as Timothy’s corpse lay across the floor, throat open and blood pooled around his head. The rug that normally covers that spot on the floor was gone and strange symbols and runes had been drawn on the black floorboards with white chalk. The candles that had surrounded the room had melted down and wax surrounded him like an ominous circle. Rebecca continued to scream hysterically amid the gurgles of tears that streamed down her cheeks and burned her throat red raw.

“Oh please be quiet.” Rebecca span on the spot to see Victoria behind her, still in the green dress, but with an arc of blood splashed across it that had turned brown after a couple of days of drying on the garment.

“WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” screamed Rebecca, anger reaching through the fear and spitting venom at this murderess.

“What’s the matter? Do you not recognise me? I know it’s been five years, but I thought that you would always remember the woman you murdered!”

“Heather?” asked Rebecca with a pathetic whisper, suddenly all of the fear and rage being replaced with disbelief.

“That’s right. Heather. The woman in the way of you and the man you always wanted. So what do you do? You tamper with my brakes and wait for me to die, so that you can have Timothy all to yourself. And what does he do? The pathetic man that he is, does he investigate my death and try to bring me some justice? No! He marries you, the woman who killed me! And now you both get to join me.”

Rebecca screamed one last time, but this time it wasn’t through gurgled tears, but a throat full of her own blood.

Wednesday 14 November 2012

Hero Talk Episode 24

Hey Dudes and Dudettes! Available now to download onto your new fangled listening devices is Episode 24 of everybody's favourite comic book and geek related podcast - HERO TALK!

This week, James Lundy, Mat Guy and myself discuss Dundee Comics Day, Disney's purchase of Lucasfilm, The Superior Spider-Man, Justice League of America #1's 52 variant covers, My Little Pony and The Evil Dead re-make amongst other geeky topics.



In Comics of Future Past, Mat Guy breaks down his thoughts on; Midnight Sons, Uncanny Avengers & the upcoming Green Arrow by Jeff Lemire. And finally, the three of us discuss who our top five fantasy convention guests would be.

All this plus much more on the best comic book podcast in the WORLD!!! :)

M X

- Subscribe via iTunes entering the following: http://www.heroesandidols.com/htalkpodcast.xml
- Download the mp3 via: www.heroesandidols.com/podcasts/htalkep24.mp3

Tuesday 6 November 2012

Hero Talk Episode 23

Hey Dudes and Dudettes! Available now to download onto your new fangled listening devices is Episode 23 of everybody's favourite comic book and geek related podcast - HERO TALK!

This week, along with my cohort James Lundy and special guest host Mark Walker, we discuss among other things; Superman quitting his job at the Daily Planet, the Walking Dead series 3 & video game, the Iron Man 3 and Evil Dead trailers, DC comics I, Vampire and the guest line up for the 2013 London Super Comic Con!



In Comics of Future Past, James talks about Ian Sharman's Hero 9-5, Robyn Hood from Zenoscope & BOOM! Studio's upcoming book; Death Match.

All this plus much more on the best comic book podcast in the WORLD!!! :)

M X

- Subscribe via iTunes entering the following: http://www.heroesandidols.com/htalkpodcast.xml
- Download the mp3 via: www.heroesandidols.com/podcasts/htalkep23.mp3