Dime Novels From Oblivion

 At 12:04 am EST, Deputy Sherrif Warran Baker responded to a call nearby a local cell tower. Initial reporting went a large man was seen climbing the structure to something about giant cranes flying headfirst into its blinking red lights.  The Deputy arrived on the scene by 12:13. The sky was dark but clear. In the pale illuminance of the full moon, the Deputy could see through the cluster of narrow pine trees the shadowy outline of someone holding on near the top of the tower. "Woah, that son of a bitch is big," marveled Warran. "Sir, this is the Cherylsburg sheriff's department. You are trespassing on private property. Immediately climb down from the tower and put your hands above your head." Warran sternly ordered from his car's megaphone. The figure pushed off from the tower, and a pair of tattered wings quickly unfolded from its back and spasmodically flapped to save it from the free fall. The motion slowed to an uneasy fluttering, and the creature hove

 41-year-old software designer Jarred Ingram was, on the whole, an average sort of guy. He was about average height, just a little over average weight. His politics were middle of the road. He believed everything in moderation. His life was steady but not slow, and he often summed it all up with the phrase "I'm just happy to be here." Sitting on his couch one night dividing his attention between work and Netflix, he heard his doorbell ring. He grabbed his wallet off the coffee table and went to the door, thinking it was a delivery driver.  The door's chime was the call of destiny itself. The moment Jarred opened the door, he became the intersection of time and space, instead of someone holding a carryout bag, a tall older man with neatly trimmed white hair and deep-set jade eyes. He stood tall and proper, wearing a suit perfectly tailored to his long frame. "Jarred?" the man asked.  "Yeah," Jarred said with polite suspicion. The stranger flashed a