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New gen "Once Upon a Time in Mexico" zine

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  • Mystery Frank
    Agent With Style (www.agentwithstyle.com) is taking pre-con orders for the following cons: -- Tribal Forces -- Philadelphia, PA -- deadline is April 17, 2006
    Message 1 of 1 , Apr 13 10:57 PM
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      Agent With Style (www.agentwithstyle.com) is taking pre-con orders
      for the following cons:

      -- Tribal Forces -- Philadelphia, PA -- deadline is April 17, 2006

      -- MediaWest Con -- Lansing, MI -- deadline is May 18, 2006

      Want to make sure you get the zines you want?
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      AGENT WITH STYLE
      www.agentwithstyle.com

      is proud to present:


      LIFE AFTER DEATH

      by
      Helen Pattskyn


      A "Once Upon a Time in Mexico" novel
      based on the movie starring Johnny Depp


      Blind, helpless and scared...

      These aren't words that CIA Officer Sheldon Jeffrey Sands *ever*
      thought would apply to him. Mexico is his beat -- he doesn't just
      walk it, he owns it. He sets them up -- he watches them fall. Only
      as of November 2nd, he's never going to be able to watch another
      thing ever again, and all because he fell into bed with the wrong
      woman...but could somebody please explain to him how the CIA missed
      that little detail? Sands had a background check run on Ajedrez, and
      nowhere was it mentioned that she was the fruit of Armando Barillo's
      loom. Barillo isn't that good and the CIA isn't that sloppy. Now,
      the only way he's going to make it out of Mexico alive is if he
      learns to trust someone, only she's just about as screwed up as he
      is....


      EXCERPT:

      On November 2nd, my life changed forever.
      A woman I used to know (and might have loved, I don't know) once
      told me that I had such rotten luck, I must have pissed off a gypsy
      in a past life. Some days, I think I must have pissed off the whole
      goddamned caravan.
      I hadn't done anything to warrant my death, I'd only seen too
      much and Barillo was going to make sure *that* never happened again.
      But they didn't just take my eyes, they took my life. They took my
      confidence. See, I've always prided myself in being able to read
      people and I really did *not* see this coming. I thought she'd run
      away with me -- not in a forever kinda way, but I schemed schemes
      that involved her and I thought we'd spend the next few months
      drinking tequila on the beach and screwing. Only she was just using
      me. Me. I'm the guy who uses other people, I don't *get* used. No,
      I really didn't see it coming, did I? I've never been so wrong about
      anything in my whole life, and no mistake has ever cost me so much.
      But on November 2nd, I met another woman, and if I'm a devil,
      then Beth most assuredly is an angel. She took me in, tended my
      wounds and dug a couple of bullets out of my sorry hide; she sat with
      me while I was fevered and delirious. She held me when I woke up
      screaming in the middle of the night, because let me tell you, I
      would be a whole lot happier if my sleeping moments were as black as
      my waking moments...but Beth did something else to me, too. She got
      to me. She got to that place inside I'd quite happily forgotten
      existed -- yes, kiddies, it really did exist once. Sort of. Hey, no
      delusions, I am not a nice guy. I was never sappy or romantic and I
      do not get all warm and fuzzy over puppy dogs and bunny rabbits.
      But she got to me.
      Only thing is -- guys like me don't get the girl. There are no
      happy endings. All I have to look forward to at the end of my life
      is a shallow grave somewhere and I know it. Like I said, no
      delusions. Besides, a shallow grave beats what the U.S. Attorney
      General has in mind for me, because I will *not* spend the rest of my
      life in an orange jumpsuit. That's right, I wasn't just burned on
      November 2nd, I was fucking buried alive down here. Only, I never
      have been one to simply roll over and die, it's just not in my
      nature. I will clear my 'good name,' even if it's the last thing I
      do.
      And wouldn't you know it, there are a few people out there who
      are just bound and determined to ruin my world view and prove to me
      that the Universe doesn't suck...at least not as much as I think it
      does.
      My name is Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. I work for the Central
      Intelligence Agency. And I am living la vida loca.

      Don't miss this zine!


      AGENT WITH STYLE
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