A Mills and Boon extract, by Aaron

…looked over his shoulder. Lady Vanguard was drawing ever closer, the candle illuminating her face and thighs. Oh, to be between those thighs. Crispin turned fully round, thus avoiding neck ache – there was a bad case of aches and pains in the family. His sister Claudette once had a boil, but that's another story. Crispin got on his knees to greet the Vanguard. Kissing her hand, Crispin felt a funny feeling, in his pants.

“Lady Vanguard. What a delight it is to see you”, said Crispin. He was trying to cover up the fact that he had movement down below. He continued, anything to prevent him from standing up. “Shall we not enjoy this humble meeting on one’s floor, for it is well made and reminds one of the picnics we were so accustomed to as children?” Lady Vanguard lowered her overwhelming frame onto the stone floor. Crispin was nervous. Every night he dreamed about feeling her smooth skin, touching her heavenly locks of hair, kissing her soft lips, and getting a footjob. But now, with her so close to him, he started having doubts. Could he seduce her? Could he reveal his true feelings? Could he bed the great Lady Vanguard?

He thought of his childhood – the time he first saw her. She was bent double, laughing at Lord Suffolk having his head chopped off. Crispin enjoyed the guillotine as much as the next person, but Vanguard loved it. He remembered watching her laugh. He was only a peasant boy then, a son of an Irishman, a no-hoper. One look was all he needed. After seeing a smile crack across her face, Crispin knew that he had to make something out of his life. If he became a gentleman he could have what he wanted, even Lady Vanguard. Now, only inches from her, Crispin thought if Vanguard had any idea that he used to be a peasant. What would she think of him? Would she still sleep with him?

Presently Lady Vanguard sat with her legs wide open, a finger touching her nether regions. Crispin had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he had failed to realise that Vanguard was trying to roger him rigid…

Jeremy and Russell, by Holly

Jeremy and his puffin Russell were always together, day and night, rain or shine. When Jeremy went down the mines, Russell went too, tiny pick-axe in flipper. When Jeremy went trout fishing, Russell would faithfully bite the heads off the freshly caught fish because his friend didn't like the gross way they wiggled and flapped in the bucket. When Jeremy went for his annual prostate exam, because you can never be too careful, you can guess who was next up in the stirrups.

Yes, Jeremy and Russell were as brothers. They shared their every thought, hope and dream. They even shared the same spirit animal (the giraffe). Nothing could come between them, not least the unwelcome attentions of their downstairs neighbour Mrs Pickering.

Time passed. Russell finally got his experimental novel published. Mrs Pickering withered and died, to the relief of all who knew her. The boys took a relaxing spa-break in Minnesota. Yet amidst the tumult, their relationship remained as steadfast as a platonic rock.

But one sweltering day in July, Russell birthed a pup in the mineshaft. Despite a lack of first-aid certificate, Jeremy was forced to deliver it because the mine had shut in 1985 and nobody else was around. And so it was that Russell had reached the age of 72 in puffin years before anyone realised his secret.

Jeremy felt betrayed beyond words. He tried to go on Maury to resolve their issues, but their slot was taken at the last minute by a live children's pole-dancing competition, so he shot himself in the head with a pop gun he had ordered as a Christmas present for Russell from the Hawkins Bazaar catalogue. It didn't work, so instead Jeremy learned to love Russell for who she really was.

Open Sketchbook Is Go

The first pictures from the project are up on the blog. Result!

Pigeon Publications

Here are some of of the things we've made so far. Click on the Free Shop button to get one. At present we have very limited stocks of Third Reich Fantasy Melodrama and Marmalade Eyes, but enough Buried in the Canals to go around. (Click on pictures to enlarge them.)

Third Reich Fantasy Melodrama was the first zine we made, two years ago in the winter of 2007. Almost everything in it was by us, and it took quite a while to put together and make. It is a collection of stories.

We made Marmalade Eyes as a fold-out one page A4 zine, with the cover as a poster collage (not pictured, because the scanner just didn't want to cooperate) in spring 2009.

Buried in the Canal was our second long zine, made in January 2009. This time we collaborated, and it features illustrations, a story and a front cover by Eddy, and stories by various other contributors.

It also has two comics, Spiegelman's Guide to Girls, by Aaron...

...and Little Rabbit and Porkie Pig by Holly.

Free Shop

Everything we make is free. If you would like a copy of our latest zine, Buried in the Canal, featuring lots of comics, stories and much more, please send an email to thepigeonpress@thepigeonpress.com, and we will wing you one post haste.

Pigeon Pressers

Editors

Aaron lives for film.

Holly reads comics and eats food.

Regular Contributors

Ailis is an overachieving underachiever.

Jonathan throws genius shapes.

Chief Illustrator

Eddy cooks things up.

The Chief.

Jonny and Aaron.

Ailis and Holly.

November's Pick of the Month -Thought Cloud Factory

Here is the small-press choice for November. Visiting Bristol shop/gallery Here a couple of months ago (which everyone should swing by next time they're in the south-west), I picked up this beautiful handmade comic by Theo Ellsworth. It is a highly-detailed set of full page panels of imaginary landscapes, buildings, underwater scenes and so on, all mesmerising. Have a look at his cool blog.