The weather’s been a bit of a mess here at Spinetingler HQ so I’m a little behind. Plus I had an ulterior motive for leaving the poll open for one more day, as will soon be apparent. Apologies for the delay.
After a couple of hundred votes we actually have a tie for the first annual Fireball Award. Not only that but it’s a three way tie. Rather than bust up the tie like a Pinkerton Agent at a union strike we decided to let it stand and declare all three winners.
Without further ado (Latin for bullshit) the winners are…
“The night they were hijacked, Roxy Palmer and her husband, Joe, ate dinner with an African cannibal and his Ukrainian whore.” — Wake up Dead by Roger Smith
“The kid’s left arm angles out of the dirty snow like a stick of broken black kindling.” — Pike by Benjamin Whitmer
“So she walks in, trying to look cool, trying to look like nothing has happened, like nothing has gone wrong, but it’s difficult because she still feels the ghost of the revolver’s handle pressed against her palm and the scent of gunpowder in her nostrils.” – Katja From the Punk Band by Simon Logan
Congrats to all of the winners. If you haven’t read them yet you should.