Charlie Stross has webbed up a short story of his, a spy-fi mix of Cthulhu mythos with espionage. "The Concrete Jungle" has many things going for it, including a nice understatement of explanations and a tendency to mix Lovecraftian panic into bureaucratese. And it just won a Hugo.
It's also a case of information literature. The plot, which I'll try not to give away, concerns the transmission of secrets, the movement of programs, and the creation of information structures to have real world effects. Moreover, it uses DRM as a plot device. On the one hand, the main character fulminates against the MPAA et al. On the other hand, the spy agency for which he works uses a supernatural DRM to prevent people from speaking secrets.