Beautiful, ugly, wicked, twisted, healing, murderously dark, light as butterflies, the women of Redgunk, Mississippi, are one and all wild. Witches enticing Sunday School children to astonishing lives. Makers of unicorn stews. 50-foot women breaking laws of physics and love. Some run naked and free through the kudzu. They are despair and hope, our lifeblood. They call us to our own wild depths More
Sort of like Thomas Wolfe on acid, or James Joyce on moonshine, Bill Eakin takes the words, the rhythms, the heat, the mud, the cicadas and the kudzu of the south and turns them into stories that touch your heart while messing with your brain stem and possibly tampering with your DNA. A truly original and unique voice.... — Shawna McCarthy, Realms of Fantasy Eloquent and witty, thoughtful and even heart-rending. . . . Every time I’ve read a Redgunk story recently, I’ve come away thinking the most recent was better than what I had seen before. I’m coming to realize that it’s not a question of better; each one has been good on its own. . . .Bill Eakin is a brilliant storyteller. — Kim Mohan, Amazing Stories Beautiful, ugly, wicked, twisted, healing, murderously dark, light as butterflies, the women of Redgunk, Mississippi, are one and all wild. They are among other things: witches serenading the moon and enticing Sunday School children to surprising and astonishing lives; the makers of unicorn stews that are both tragic and beautiful; 50-foot women breaking the laws of physics and love; mermaids lost in the swamps behind the tar paper shacks of Redgunk, who help old men learn they are in love with their own all-too-mortal wives. They are these wives, too, who know mortality. Some of them live in the house next door with the most gruesome secrets. Some run naked and free through the kudzu. They are despair and hope. They are our lifeblood. They rise, they fall, they flourish, they die, but all of them shine. They call us to our own wild depths. They call us to shine. These are the Wild Women of Redgunk!