So much is going on I don’t even know where to start. Okay, so I made the announcement that I signed with Bootrope and things there are running like an out of control freight train. In addition to the four books I’ve already submitted to them I have a couple DOZEN more that are going to head over there in the coming weeks. Also, I’m working on another book, Believe in the Dark Man, with Cassandre Dayne, the best selling author and my previous co-author for Toxic Leash, The Darkness Within and I Like to Watch. On top of that I have a new book I’m working on. It’s a demonic possession piece and will be chocked full of some terrifying things you’ve never imagined and will wish you didn’t let into your mind. Additionally, I have brand new stories coming out in not one but two magazines. More details when they’re ready to go. On top of that I have released a new YA under a pseudonym. I’ll make the official announcement when I get the okay from my editor.

So yeah, I’m busy as a one legged man in an ass whooping contest, and I plan on taking first prize.

I’m really tired and need to get some sleep, so here is an excerpt from my current Work In Progress, currently unnamed. Think demonic possession:

 

“I must be losing my fucking mind.” Karen busied herself with closing the doors as gently as she could. She didn’t want father Downey to know what had happened. She didn’t want to show that kind of weakness. Karen filled a glass with water and headed back to guest room. The door was closed, which she thought odd. For the life of her she couldn’t remember closing it. “I’m sorry father, I should have offered you something sooner.”

“I completely understand, Karen. You’re just a stupid cunt who doesn’t know any better.” Father Downey had his back to her. He was still standing at the foot of the bed, his head bowed. He was facing the old woman who simply looked blankly at the ceiling. Karen thought the old woman was smiling, but that had to be a trick of the light, or the angle she was looking from.

“What did you say, father?” Karen was aghast. How could a priest speak to her like that, in her own home no less? She had known Father Downey for fifteen years. He had performed the ceremony at her wedding, baptized their children, and blessed their house. She had never heard him utter a single curse word, let alone talk to someone in such a manner.

“I said I understand, Karen. You’re under a lot of stress. “Father Downey turned and took the glass from her shaking hands. “I think you should sit down, you look very pale.”

Of course she had heard wrong. Father Downey wouldn’t say something so hateful, not to her or anyone else. He was a man of God, a good man and priest. She was tired, her mind was playing tricks on her. Karen touched a hand to her cheek and felt the heat radiating off it. Maybe she was getting sick on top of everything else. It would make sense. She hadn’t slept right in weeks. She was barely eating. Yes, of course. She had misunderstood.

But something about Father Downey didn’t look right. His eyes seemed swollen, the pouches of skin under his eyes were usually sunken a little and darker than the surrounding skin. He normally looked like a man who didn’t’ get enough sleep, but the color in his cheeks and the bright smile distracted you away from such things. He wasn’t smiling now and his skin looked pale. There was a hollow quality to his cheeks that made him look sickly. Karen wasn’t sure, but it looked like there was a rash spreading up from his neck.

“Let us begin.” His voice sounded weak and raspy, nothing like the usual confident, bass filled rumble Karen knew from church. His hand was shaking as he took several large swallows of water from the glass. There was a muted clink! noise, the kind made when two glasses touched as if in a toast. The water from Father Downey’s glass turned pink almost immediately. “I think this glass is broken.” He held the glass up the light coming from the window. Murky swirls of pink were missing with the water. Blood dripped from a slice on the priest’s lip as he handed Karen the glass.

“Oh, father. I’m so sorry.” Karen took the glass and looked at it. A long cut went from the rim to the base. A chip was missing and blood stained the edge. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so sorry. Let me get you something to clean up.”

As Karen turned to leave the room Father Downey said; “You really are just a useless slut. Forget the water and just get on your knees and suck my fat, Polish cock.”

The voice didn’t belong to the priest. Karen was sure of that. Ignoring what was surely just another trick of her addled mind, she quickly left the room. She placed the glass in the bathroom adjacent to the guest room and removed a towel from the rack. She turned and stopped. The door to the bedroom was closed again. She was positive she hadn’t closed it and saw no reason why the priest would. Now Karen was getting scared.

She opened the door and walked in. Father Downey was sitting on the edge of the bed. There was no denying how sick he looked now.

“Father, do you feel okay?” His skin was waxy and pale. Sweat stood out on his forehead and there definitely was a rash spreading up, bright red and blotchy, from his throat.

“No.” It was a struggle to even get that one word out. “Come, let’s give this amazing woman her last rights. I think I need to get back to the rectory and rest.”

 

Booktrope Announcement, Zombie Bigfoot

If you’re a follower of this blog then I assume you’re also following me on Facebook and Twitter. That means you probably already know that a few of my novels have been accepted by, and are going to be re-released, by Booktrope. This is a HUGE FUCKING DEAL for a couple of reasons. 1. It means that my books will get new life with an incredible publisher that’s going to put time and energy into marketing me and my books. 2. I get to reap the benefits of being with a publisher that has dozens of best sellers. Besides sharing in the success of their writers I also get the benefits of the wisdom associated with the team that put out many of these books. 3. I get a much larger publisher behind me to push and guide me in my career.

The first book they’re going to release is Witches House. It’s going to get a new cover, a fresh edit, and turn into the book that it always should have been. From there I’m going to re-write the Chronicles of Rosario series, books one, two, and three. Then I’ll finish book four. Then it’s on to a brand new book, some of my erotica, and a couple other things.

Somewhere in between all of that will be Zombie Bigfoot. As the name suggests, there is an undead Bigfoot rampaging through the story. I’ll post the synopsis when the book is closer to the publication phase. Right now though, I want to share an excerpt from the book. Enjoy!

 

I shot and killed the squirrel, then ate its liver, heart, and kidneys before dumping the rest of the organs on the forest floor. I swung the hollowed out carcass over my shoulder and headed on. I killed two more small critters and ate the important stuff raw. I now had enough meat to carry me through the night and stave off my hunger. I was on my way back to the trailer when I saw a nice fat rabbit eating clover in the shade of a boulder. I took careful aim and let my arrow fly. The rabbit twitched once and lay dead, a mouthful of bloody clover falling from between the blunt front teeth. I was in terrific shape and excited about cooking it all.

Then my blood turned to ice as a hellacious scream filled the late afternoon with horror.

It wasn’t Bigfoot, at least the scream hadn’t come from him. It was a woman, of that I was positive. Strange that I could know something so definitively when I hadn’t seen or heard one in months, and yet my brain instantly made the connection. Self-preservation made me grab the dead rabbit before sprinting off to help. I never considered myself a hero, but if there was a woman in trouble nearby then I had to at least try and help. Hell, if any living person was alive and in need of help who the hell was I to ignore it. This wasn’t an act of chivalry, it was an act of selfishness.

Had I mentioned that I was lonely as fuck?

I threw the animal carcasses into the shade before grabbing my freshly loaded shotgun and jumping into my truck. I left a plume of dust behind me as I roared away, heading towards the sound of the scream. This used to be such a nice, quiet neighborhood. I hadn’t heard or seen so much as a single living person around here since the start of the apocalypse and now…

The scream had come only once but I was nearly positive it had originated from the road out front of my complex. Maybe I was just thinking that it would make more sense for someone to be in that direction than any other. Maybe I had no idea where it had come from. Either way I was tearing ass in that direction, and I was right.

I saw Bigfoot before I saw the people he was terrifying. His zombie form was something appalling and yet beautiful. His normally shimmery coat was dull and patchy, an oil-slick-rainbow of colors over grey-green flesh. Muscles still rippled under the fur, but now they moved with a chunky, graceless movement. His face was bloated, his gut distended to the point of near rupture, and both upper and lower lips were peeled away from the skull exposing massive, brown teeth. He ignored the sound of my approaching engine, choosing instead to punch through the windshield of a truck and root around for the squealing people inside the cab.

I hit the horn a couple times. The added noise caught the monster’s attention and slowed his assault on the truck. He looked up at me with expressionless eyes as drool and blood flowed from his mouth. I steered right for him but knew there was no way I could hit him and expect to drive away. He was just too damn big. Instead I sped past him, just missing a massive swing from his clawed hand. I could see a couple of terrified faces looking out the cracked glass. I wanted to save them but didn’t know if I’d be able too.