Darkly Dreaming Demographic.

Where weird shit hits bizarre fans.



TOTCB – Chapter 5 ‘Stranger than kindness’

Bonjourno, mi amigos. Probably butchering that, how many languages was that? I dunno, fuck I’m so talented, all that multi-lingual stuff haha. Yes I’m joking, no I’m not that narcissistic, pretty close though.

Ok so what’s new?
Not much, just being doing the day job thing as of late, picked up an addiction to Gwent (Google it). May get fired for playing it at work, well that would solve that problem wouldn’t it haha.

I got some writing done after a snaffoo with some of my software. But it’s all hunky dory now and I’m away, and honestly, I’m having too much fucking fun writing this book, honestly, wtf? Why is it this fun to write this much nonsense. It’s like writing it is reading it for the first time because I have like the outline and the characters but I don’t really know how it’ll take shape other than that. I don’t know how the characters are going to interact, or what they’re going to say or how they’ll act, what they’ll do or how they’ll do it.
It’s all flowing out of me like a stream of consciousness, like I type it and there it is. Like it’s not even coming from me and its fun. I’m really enjoying how it’s taking shape, it’s like a puzzle slotting into place and the nature of the book itself is fun. It’s almost like a portmanteau movie with all these different characters, different worlds colliding.

Yeah so that’s it, just really enjoying it, can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet but fuck it, better than writing some miserable crap that makes me want to hang myself haha.

Remember if you want a free review copy of the first book, hit me up on twitter or facebook and if you’re on my mailing list you get a free ebook just for joining.

Peace out people.

Oh yeah also here’s a chapter of my last book that everyone seems to hate haha fucking nano, yes I am blaming you haha.

Stranger than kindness


On the plane Johnny seemed nervous and Peggy could tell, but she couldn’t think of any reason why he would be. To her this was the end, this was what she wanted, he was home.

She turned to him as the plane slowed to a crawl, putting her hand on his and she said “Are you ready to go home Johnny?”

Johnny didn’t react at first, as if hearing his own name was so foreign to him. He could hardly believe where he was, what he chose, there was no going back now.

He smiled and nodded.

They got off the plane and there reporters with cameras waiting for him asking him questions he didn’t answer. They just pushed past them into the arrivals lounge and they didn’t follow them.

She held his hand, he was shy and she suddenly felt a shard of ice hit her heart and she thought what it might be.

She turned to him and looked at him and he looked away.

“Johnny, are you afraid Momma’s not gonna love you anymore or something?”

He didn’t say anything, he mouthed something and furrowed his brow.

“You don’t need to worry, you’re home now. We’ve missed you, we’ve all missed you, but it’s going to be ok now, I promise”

She lead him out of the arrivals area and through passport control and to get their luggage. He didn’t have much but that one backpack and the clothes on his back.

What if there was something wrong with him? What if he’d never get better, what if the Johnny she knew was gone, never to return.

She shook off those feelings and lead him out to the parking lot.

Still he was nervous, he couldn’t stop moving. Bouncing around almost, going to the bathroom a lot and watching people and watching Peggy. He was always watching her for some reason. Trying to pick up cues from her. Like he’d forgotten how to be him and somehow watching her would help him remember who he was.

Who he was dependent on her expectation at this point.

Peggy’s husband Brandon with his camcorder. Their son Carl and daughter Sarah. Johnny and Peggy’s mother Angela had all loaded up in Carl’s Lincoln to go get Johnny and his sister.

They waited at the end of a long tiled windowless hallway. It was white with white rails along the side, slightly bluing tiles stuck on the walls. Brandon started filming as he saw people passing them by. Lots of people, young, old, fat, skinny, men and women but none of them were Peggy and Johnny.

More and more people passed, more people than seemed possible. With each passing it seemed less and less likely that they would come out. For a moment it seemed like a bad dream, they’d lost one child and sent another to find him only to lose that one too. The big bad world just swallowed them up. With each passing stranger their hearts sank.

Until finally Peggy emerged carrying her one duffel bag, she looked warn out but happy. Her hair was a messy, probably from sleeping on it. She wore a t-shirt and jeans, her face looked content like she’d just been around the world and seen all seven wonders in one shot. She saw her family waiting their huddled together. Anxious, excited, a little fear there, fear of the unknown.

They were the only ones left, the last off the plane.


TOTCB Chapter 4 ‘Brother my Cup is Empty’

Sup people,

Ok so news news news, the cover is almost done as you can see in the last post. Been really busy just spamming the free ebook which is cool, the subs to my mailing list are growing slowly but surely. Got a few podcast appearances lined up so hopefully that’ll help get me more subs/clicks/happythoughts.

I was thinking of giving away some early review copies of Green Sunday so I can have some reviews on release day, not sure how I’ll go about that.

I’m gonna be wrapping up what I was writing recently and I think it’s time to barrel ahead with book two of GS. Seeing some advice online, it seems best to get cracking on the series, strike while the iron is hot and keeping going til I run out of steam and then hopscotch to another series. Which is great news for me, because I kept giving myself excuses why it wasn’t right to start all the while chomping at the bit to do exactly that.

The free ebook is ready and it’ll be virtually shipping at the end of the month, what else?
No I think that’s it, oh no yeah, still going ahead with The one that came back as a standalone. Series’ apparently make more money but I still want to get traditionally published for a standalone title. I’m not ready as of yet to religate myself to permanent indie author status.

In the words of the immutable Kanye West; “You reach for the stars, if you fall you land on a cloud”. Or something like that.

Anyway here’s the next chapter , you can find it on inkitt of course with this link. Probably having this edited soon too before I start pitching it.

Brother my cup is empty


It was early, downtown Austin was quiet and heating up slow.

A red dodge pick up pulled up outside an irish pub on 204 east sixth street. The sign on the side was a picture of two merry Irishmen leaning on eachother and it read ‘The Gingerman’.

It was a grand old building. Three stories tall with a couple of red birch trees sticking out of the sidewalk out front. White stone in long columns that looked like it came straight off of mount Olympus. Tall brown doors. The floors above were apartments with tall thin windows that made for high ceilings but not a lot else. It was penned in by an Italian restaurant called ‘Gino’s’ on the right and some kind of science centre for kids on the left. A weird place to put it since almost the entire strip was just littered with dives and billiard halls.

Porter parked deliberately too close to a red striped mini cooper that was parked outside. He got out and went inside.

He passed over the tiled entrance. Passing framed adverts for Paddy’s irish whiskey and Cork Distilleries. Harkening back to some grand irish renaissance in the fifties, or something like that. It was kitch and it made him sick. He stopped to put his keys back in his pocket. He lifted his eyes to the Notre Dame sign with the fighting irish leprechaun. It was facing out hanging from an antique cabinet Patrick had decided to put right in the entrance for some reason. He shook his head and went into the pub proper.

The smell of dried cork and wood soaked in whiskey hit him as soon as he got inside. Real wood, real old wood. It was a classic irish pub with all that comes with that. Small round wooden tables with small round wooden stools that were as uncomfortable as they looked dotted very little floor space.

There were some square tables in the corner which had chairs with backs and cushions for when this place pretended to be a restaurant. Which usually involved Patrick grilling something that was once alive.

The walls were a warm orange and of course were covered with classic Guinness adverts and memorabilia of all sorts. Anything vaguely irish, leprachauns and whiskey were a key theme. There was space for one Texas flag that just had a silhouette of a steers head on it and the word ‘Texas’.

There were old black and white portraits of irish writers and musicians. There were shelves decorated with little kitch porcelain figures and old clocks. Dusty books, violins, ships anchors and mini ship wheels.

The bar was long and mahogany and was so shiney it almost glowed in the texas morning cast off. It curved around and went down almost the entire length of the bar but was sectioned off into little mini bars catering to different drinks. It was all tiled around the first foot out from the bar, the rest of the floor was wood, the same colour as the bar. Porter took a seat on the end at the elbow of the bar and grazed the bar with his eyes. Passing over more Guinness signs. A four leaf clover drawn on a chalk board with their specials until he reached the flat screen tv that hung at a jaunty angle on the corner of the bar.

It was a snooker game.

“Top’o the mornin’ to yah, what can I do’ya fer? A man with strawberry blond hair entered the corner of his eye as he tried to follow the snooker.

“Any calls?”


The One Who Came Back – Chapter 3 ‘A Little Trip to Heaven’

Herro der.

Ok so getting off my ass, really making good use of my time recently my personal life falling apart aside.
Keeping pretty tight to my new 2k word goal, spitting reviews out of my ass like confetti and getting lots of proof reading done and I got a few more people on my mailing list by offering them free shit that’s not out yet haha.
It’s coming out soon, calm your tits. Just getting it edited, we’ve already been through the quote and I have the cash. I even have an artist lined up to do the cover, which isn’t cheap considering this is a novella I’m giving away for free. I just want to make sure the product I’m giving out is the best possibly quality, but that takes time.
I will probably be selling it on amazon in hard copy as well just because why not when I’ve put so much time and effort and money into it. So you can pick that up if you feel like it just to support me but you don’t have to do obviously, you’re getting your free digital copy as soon as possible.
Been working on my latest novella just to prepare for when I wade into my next big novel project. It’s just a kind of wet silly horror novela, should be fun. I’ll be posting it on inkitt when I start proofreading it and I’ll probably be giving away ebook copies of that too when it’s edited.
But enough of my rambling updates. I just want to welcome the new people who joined my mailing and following my blog, thanks a lot for the support if you’re reading this, if you’re not I fucked your mother haha.

Ok so here’s the next proofread chapter of my nano novel which I’m really impressed with, I think this is the most professional thing I’ve done.

Here’s an excerpt from chapter 3 ‘A little trip to heaven’

If you want to read the full chapter head on over to inkitt by clicking on the hyperlink so you can get it in a mobile format and all that good stuff.

Anyway thanks again for reading this garbage haha.

“Some more pictures-“The tv was on, a home movie was playing. On the screen was a young girl’s room. White walls covered in pictures and cabinets lined with stuffed animals. “This is Peggy’s room, her bed, she even gots tv in her, aint she lucky?” A little boy’s voice said as the camera panned clumsily around the room.

“What if he doesn’t remember me?” Peggy said as she sat on their maroon couch next to her husband Brandon in their darkened living room.

“Well you’ll never know if you don’t go there and your mother sure as hell can’t make that trip, it has to be you.” He sighed and put his arm around “I wanna go with you but I’ve got work, you know that.”

“The birthday girl.” The boy on the tape said. The camera swayed into a canted angle on a young woman smiling, sitting at a table with her family. “Aint she beautiful?” Sounds of indistinct conversation could be heard as the the camera swept through the room looking around the kitchen and dining room. “And here is her brother, Johnny.” The camera jerked around as the boy aimed the lens at his own face. Giving the camera a semi-toothless grin and a direct view into his nostrils.

Peggy fidgeted in her seat on the plane. Taking long breathes and playing with saint christopher hanging around her neck.

She got the earliest flight she could, terrified but also eager. She’d never left texas before nevermind the country. Her heart raced and as soon as she sat down in her seat she swallowed and seemed to forget. All the hurrying and packing and walking on strained tight calves as she rushed to her flight. The hairs on the back of her neck. She felt like she was carried along by a sense of immediacy she couldn’t explain. She had to see him and touch him and kiss him and know he was ok or…

She couldn’t sleep, not on the flight and not the two days before it. Her heart wouldn’t let her, it beat and beat and it wouldn’t stop until she knew it was real and it wasn’t a dream.

The plane was crowded. She didn’t remember picking her seat, it was an aisle seat in coach. She couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t keep her eyes on one thing or another. No faces were clear, she felt like she was in a doctor’s waiting room. Something about not moving but still moving set her teeth on edge and it made her want to walk the whole way to spain. She took a mirror out of her purse and poked at one of her eyes.

Peggy was a fairly pretty texas flower with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. Maybe just a little too much eye make up to cover up the lack of sleep. Hey eyebrows were so thin they looked drawn on. She had a strong Nordic looking face and jawline she softened with flowing bangs and a dimple in her chin. She looked tired though and she knew it. She was just past thirty and the lack of sleep did nothing for the sagging under her eyes. Her mouth was slightly downturned with a touch of natural lipstick

She couldn’t see out the windows. Everyone around her was either asleep, eating or watching a movie. Three things that didn’t cross her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was in a box. She barely noticed the plane taxiing for take off. Only the tight feeling as her heart sunk into her seat as the plane took off.

It was a night flight so as soon as they got going they turned off most of the lights.

She laid her head back and closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

It didn’t work.

The One That Came Back Chapter 2 ‘Small Change’.

Well here he is, my first and maybe my only detective character haha. Porter Caraway, I hope you like him, or maybe I don’t, I worked hard on him or maybe I didn’t haha.

What have I been up to besides day job, not much, doing what I hate, waiting and watching. I hate that shit, I’m only happy when I’m moving forward, can’t stand standing still. I’m waiting on my editor to get back to me on editing LCYE so I can give it away for free, waiting on artists to get back to me on covers for LCYE and GS, waiting waiting waiting, driving me crazy. I want to be selling this shit, I want my fame and millions now please haha. Yeah right.

I need to keep moving forward, I said I’d wait til january to write something new and I kept my promise, did I need the rest, probably not. It’s just another novella to keep my mind occupied until I settle on another novel. I’m battling in my minds between doing the fantasy novel or the serial killer dexter fanfic. They’re both fighting for supremacy in my subconscious.

Or I could fall back on a longer comic synopsis, I have some crazy shit stored away but my instincts are telling me if this novel, this one as in ‘The one that came back’ isn’t a mainstream hit, if it doesn’t get me an agent or get above an amazon publish then I need to focus on more mainstream hot spots, so the dexter fanfic and the crazy shit I have in my back catalogue is pushed to the side by the fantasy series I’m not as crazy about. And I know just writing more and more shit won’t help me sell books unless I can market them but I’m not as interested in selling as I am in publishing them for real and not going into this sea of indie nonsense. But I’m trying to stradle both streams, why not?

So right now, just losing my mind, swimming in a sea of unease, unsure what stone to step on next, if I’m even moving forward. I dunno, anyway here’s a segment of it here.

Let me know what you think and as always you can check out the full chapter and the last chapter on inkitt.

Small Change

See you…


It was late, a guy in a pair of sweatpants and vest beat on a Blonde in a tan overcoat in the glare of a giant super eight sign.

The parking lot of the super eight was like a cheery holiday graveyard, all lit up and nowhere to go.

“You done?” The blonde spat blood on the floor and looked up at the man in the vest.

“You fucking son-of-!“ The man in the vest sunk a shoeless foot into the blonde’s ribs and he wheezed a sickly a laugh through a bust lip.

“The pictures are in the mail.” The blonde looked up at him, cocking his head, his sunken eyes half open. He licked his lips and propped himself up on his hands as he sat on the parking lot floor to watch the man in the vest go back into his motel room. The room closest the entrance looking out onto the interstate. Guess he thought he could see anyone coming and he did. Not that it mattered.

The blonde was still sitting on the happy concrete as he watched the man in the vest through his open curtains. He entered his brightly lit room, greeted by his brightly lit woman. The blonde on the ground smiled and waved as he pushed a cigarette passed his split lip.

She held the man in the vest back as his blood boiled up again. Instead he just marched over shot a few daggers at the blonde and shut the blinds.

Porter pulled himself up off the ground, all the outside bits hurt. The skin and the bone, but the inside, no one could touch that. He ruffled his short blond hair, running a finger across his jawline. Making sure his rudy good looks were still all in the right order. Dusting himself off he felt a little melancholy slip in as it usually does. The image of the woman he’d been sent to spy on greeting the man she sent out to beat his ass, warmed the cockles of his heart. A part of him knew he’d never have that for some reason. Nah it was just his job to watch, like someone paid to poke an antfarm every ten minutes or so, see what fell out.

What fell out this time; a husband paid him a couple hundred bucks up front to get him pictures. His woman was stepping out with some small time country music singer. Apparently the honkey tonk man’s daughter made it big up north and left him down here to rot. Squeezing her two dollar ass into five dollar spandex and shaking it for teenagers. Fine work, if you can get it. Now he was carving himself off a piece of someone else’s wife.

He’d already been hanging on the last couple of nights and he had enough pictures. This was just a follow up, obviously he’d out stayed his welcome.


Small Change

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