Sometimes, I don’t know what I have.
In 1990, I was buying Star Trek novels as they came out. Pocket released one a month, alternating between Original Series and Next Generation titles. Sometimes, I would pick up an older release as well, if something struck my fancy or the new release ran late. Somehow, I picked up a copy of Killing Time by Della Van Hise. It was not one of the rare copies of the first edition. Even so, a well-connected fan would have known what it was. I was not a well-connected fan. I’m sure I read the book within hours of acquisition. I’m sure I loved it, because I loved them all. And then I put it on a shelf and went on to the next one and let it wait 20 years or so before picking it up again.
It’s got a great cover, this book. There are Romulan women in gold lame togas, and a Bird of Prey descending over an exotic skyline, and Spock is wearing a red cape. He looks kind of stoically embarrassed about it. The tag line frantically insists that the galaxy has gone mad. It is a cover ripe with promise, for a book that over-delivers.
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