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LCYE Chapter 15 ‘A World of Madness’

Hola seniors and senioritas,

Had like a minor backlash from my comments about camwho- I mean cosplay girls. No but seriously, I dunno, I guess I was in a bad mood or something, when am I not amirite haha? And my disdain for normies and facebook admins had reached its peak boil. I just can’t stand these little internet nazis thinking they can tell me what I can say and when I can say it and how. Like this facebook group is their own little dictatorship, it’s just fucking infuriating talking to these idiots so I just block them when they message me with these fucking snide little diatribes about how I posted on the wrong day or I didn’t ask their permission first. Fuck you, I’ll post whenever I goddamn like, don’t like it kick me out of the group, there are only like a million more groups without you controlling them.
I just can’t stand these people with this inflated sense of self-importance. People who have zero power over their own lives using what little power they have on the internet to police others, it’s as Donald Trump would say ‘Sad’.
But anyway that’s my spiel and I’m sticking to it, still think cosplay is shit and the people who do it are just fat attention whores and you can’t copyright a picture you took of your own fat ass. Honestly that post got shitloads of traffic so maybe more of that cancer is useful.

I guess my personal life turning to shambles just has me on edge and anyone who sticks their neck out is about to get cut in one way shape or form.

Anyway that bullshit out-of-the-way, gonna get into some updates. So the contract with Muddy boots is signed, haha he can’t turn back now, totally stuck with me haha. What does that mean, well the book is going back for another edit, hopefully my cover cost will be compt, which would be nice. Not sure I’d do anything productive with the money, maybe buy another knife haha.

That’s underway, should have a release schedule soon, more people on my mailing list, kinda surprised by how steady it’s building and honestly it’s all due to the awesome cover Mike did for me. It looks spectacular in a thumbnail.

In other news people seem to love the book that or they’re polite enough to lie to me haha. Had lots of positive feedback, should amount to a lot of nice reviews, I’m also going on a zombie themed podcast soon, so that should be fun.

GS2 is coming along nicely, kinda feel like I’m rushing it a little but out of just excitement really, feel like a dog chasing rabbits. I just want to get into it and it’s shaping up really nice. You know you’re enjoying writing when it makes you smile even writing it. I might have bitten off more than I can chew characterwise but I think I differentiated them and made them giant fucking stereotype caricatures enough to make them stand out and not have them just blur into one. But fuck I’m having fun, currently lying in a hospital bed which is my coach being treated for Xcom 2 addiction, the struggle is real.

Other than that and my crippling loneliness, alls good on the western front oh and the postman just brought me my polish gwent decks, pisser.

And here, completely unconnected is an excerpt of the penultimate chapter of a novella you should have already in e-copy if you’ve signed up to my mailing list LADIES CLOSE YOUR EYES. If you wanna check out the full thing head on over to my inkitt page and if you want the full edited version sign up to the mailing list to get a free copy for your ebook reader.

Thanks for checking in.

See you…

A World of Madness

–

There was an annoying buzzing sound rattling the real wood bedside table of the Thunderbird lodge.

Some stirring under the covers.

A brown naked arm stretched out to pick the phone off the bedside table and retracted back under the warmth of the covers.

“Special agent Harriet Jageur speaking” A muffled voice under the covers said.

A few moments of silence passed as she dazedly listened to the rushed voice on the other end.

“Thank you for informing us, we’ll be in touch”

As soon as the call ended Harriet launched out of the bed flinging the covers off her nude body.

“Shit fuck shit!”

Con lay exposed under the tossed over covers naked in Harri’s bed awoken by the immediate sense of immediacy.

“What is it?”

“Banville’s been murdered in the fucking interrogation room! Mirra got away in his car, he could be in the next fucking state by now!” Harri spoke as she faced away from him quickly putting on a bra and panties that were tossed out the front of the bed. She sprang for the cupboard’s and started to dress as fast as humanly possible.

“So what now?” Con lay struck in her bed.

“Get dressed”

“We need to slow down and think this through. We have no idea where’s he’s going. There’s gotta be an APB already out on Banville’s car, they’ll turn him up.”

“Get dressed!”

“And go where?”

Harri took in a harsh rasping breath and looked at the floor, she tensed her jaw and her eyes got moist. “This is my fault”. She paused and heaved a few more long wet breathes. “I opened his cuffs, I was too fucking caught up in all this hoodoo voodoo spooky bullshit and now someone is dead because of me! Because I forgot to lock a pair of fucking cuffs”

“This is not your fault. We need to be smart, what do you wanna do just barrel out the door and follow the sirens? You think he left us a trail of breadcrumbs?”

Harri was quiet for a moment. She closed her eyes and a few nervous tears leaked out as she stood looking a mess with her clothes hastily assembled. Buttons skew and her skirt on backwards.

An hour later she was changed into a dressing gown. Her hair pinned back sitting on the bed, her back against the back board. Calm after a steady application of coffee. A laptop on her knees as she checked Mirra’s bank records they’d had subpoenaed the moment he was taken into custody.

Con sat at the writing desk with a pair of pyjama bottoms on with no top checking flights in and out of the state and any activity in Mirra’s credit cards.

“Anything?” Harri said without looking up.

“Not much, you?”

“I have something, two flights purchased on his credit card. Two seats premium economy to Sacramento, he paid for a room in some motel down there.”

“Doesn’t seem like much”

“Not on its own” Harri looked up scornful. But then there’s a return journey with only one seat booked.”

“So you think he planned a little vacation and then what? Maybe she got sick and had to take the bus back, maybe they had a fight and he left her there? It doesn’t explain how he could kill her there, if that’s what you’re suggesting and get the body back”

“These days’ airlines weigh and record the weight of your luggage so they can charge you more, especially with budget airlines. His luggage going coming back was almost ninety pounds heavier”

“That’s a lot of souvenirs. It’s a cute theory but it could be anything. Maybe he was picking something up from craigslist, a ninety-pound paperweight.” He looked back and gave her a silly grin. “Doesn’t the airport have sniffer dogs?”

She gave him a narrow eyed look and chupsed. “They do” She paused and exhaled as she looked down at her laptop “For bombs” She took a sip of her coffee. “She’s not a bomb”.

LCYE Chapter 13 ‘Confinement’

Just gonna be a quick update because I’m up to my neck in stage hand work right now for this grand show I put on for you kind people.

Again another shout out to my new subs on my mailing list, thank you very much for paying attention to this fucking train wreck haha.
I’m really busy, I got the edit back for LCYE and I’m just proofreading it again and making the changes as well still spamming for more subs haha. But it’s coming together. I just wanted to go over it with a fine tooth comb to make sure it’s at it’s best when I convert it into a pdf/epub and send it to you lovely people.

As far as my writing is going, it’s going haha. I’m writing something a little sillier as a break. I was trying this new diet which I had to rework because I felt like a zombie and it put a kink in my weight lifting but it’s all good now. I thought I had writers block but it turned out I was just dying haha.

I dunno, this novella I’m working on is a little wet, just wanted to keep myself busy til I’m psyched up enough for GS two, or something new. It’s just not jelling as well, it’s a blast from the past, it’s sort of silly and stilted and doesn’t really represent the growth and the scope of my newer work.

But enough of me rambling incoherently.

Here’s chapter 13 of LCYE that is being proofread and will be in the inbox of hopefully everyone reading this blog within the month.

Without further ado here is Confinement

~

He fell into consciousness wide eyed and drenched in sweat. His breathe burning in his chest. He strained against plastic ties which bound his arms to the black metal struts of what seemed to be a weightlifting bench.

Was it a room?

It smelled dank, rotting wood and coppery smells of rust. It was too dark to tell.

He was lying in what felt like a dentist’s chair, his arms held down at his sides. He was restrained not only at the wrists but it felt like all the way up his arms and his legs. He had zero mobility in any of his limbs. His head equally was held in place by what felt like plastic wrap, wound tightly around his forehead. It was sticky and forming a lot of sweat but none of which allowed him any more mobility.

He felt powerless, his heart beat out of his chest for what felt like an hour of blackness and panic. Finally, when he’d given up hope of his limbs proving useful for escape he faded into despair. Taking deep breathes getting gradually shallower and more quiet until he heard someone else breathing.

A generator sprang into life, humming and coughing behind his head. A bright unshaded bulb was born cutting through the thick dark dank of what he now knew was a boxcar probably deep in the railyard. In a place no one could hear them.

An unseen scratching, and then music started to play.

“How much is that doggie in the window (arf, arf)

The one with the waggley tail”

As the record was started, James felt a sharp tugging and a shifting in his seat. A feeling of falling as the hydraulics in the chair dropped him lower and then bolted him almost upright. Instantly he was made aware of what he was supposed to see.

In front of him were two rows of something obscured by a tan hide tarp. They were spaced out as if they were seats on a train and behind them there was something hanging on the wall. Something that looked like an animal.

He heard breathing getting closer to his ear and then a voice he thought he knew.

“James, it’s good to see you. Are you resting comfortably?”

~

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LCYE Chapter 11 ‘Ashes and Ghosts’

Bonjour people, gonna keep this short, cos reasons.

Nah I’m on a new diet which basically involves starving yourself for brief periods of time for fun. I’ll let you know how that works out.

Got the latest chapter of Ladies Close Your Eyes, it’s all up now on my inkitt page which I’ll link below,  but I’ll keep churning it out on here for the content. I’m gonna be having it edited soon too so hold your breath for that.

I hope all of my three readers had a good christmas, you know who you are. I got some fun gadgets and games and stuff to steal my much needed time away. Still on a writing fast, got my next project lined up for January and I’m just using this time to flesh out new future projects.

Ok so here it is chapter 11.

Ashes and Ghosts

 

~
James was standing in front of the blue door; someone had left it open. He pushed it and it opened with a rehearsed creaking sound. Allowing a thin shaft of daylight to spread in an arc across the floor.

James swallowed hard and in his head it was very loud. He gingerly entered the small room following the beam of light.

The light ended before the opening of a tiny bathroom. Looking inside, it had no windows. Just a shower bath combo with a shower curtain pulled closed all the way around in the right corner running along the wall. The toilet was to the left in the other corner but the room was so small they were almost touching.  The sink was in the small amount of space in the right corner closest to the door in front of the bath. The bathroom was tiled all around in a black and white pattern that went from the floor to the walls. The ceilings and places untouched by tiles were the same desert tan colour as the outside of the building. The toilet seat matched the patter, the porcelain was naturally white but the seat and lid were black.

There was just something off about black in a bathroom, it hid the dirt but it also felt dirty.

There was a loud dripping noise coming from the bath tub.

James approached the bath and gripped the edges of the shower curtain which met at the corner of the bath.

He parted them swiftly, like ripping off a band aid.

The bath was full of a brown dark liquid, a putrid rusty water that had a dank smell. The bath itself was filthy, the gaps between the black and white tiles were black with mould. The shower head and bath fixture were also covered in the same black mould. He examined the taps and the shower head but there was nothing leaking.

Remembering himself he set to looking about the bathroom for any clues. Shy of sticking his hand in that filthy water and draining the tub there was nothing of interest in the bathroom. He could have stuck his hand down the toilet, but why would he do that?

He left the bathroom and returned to the bed/living room area.

The bed was un-made and showed signs of a struggle, the satin sheets were half off the queen sized bed. The long red curtains were drawn, the chair in the corner of the room was empty and there was nothing on the coffee table. The room smelled like sex and cheap perfume.

The old TV was in the same place as his dream but the screen was dark.

“Dream?” As he said it he started to feel light headed, his heart started to race and he couldn’t get it to stop. “Was it a dream?”.

He stumbled and knocked the TV off its stand leaving a large crack down the centre of the bevelled screen.

James collapsed into the chair in the living area and tried to catch his breath, he closed his eyes and tried to centre himself, stop the spinning. It felt like something unnatural was happening. Like his brain was rebooting, trying to make sense of two memories overlapping.

Just like that he felt something poking him from the side of the seat cushion. He put his hand down the side to see what it was.

It was a business card.

‘Dr. Alphonso Moral’

 

~

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Ladies Close Your Eyes Chapter one ‘Crazy Clown Time’ (Raw)

Ok well here it is. I was going to post this tomorrow but I got a shift at work on my prime spamming days, lucky me haha. So I thought I’d post it today and get it out the way because I’m smug as fuck about it. I really like where it’s going and where it’s taking my writing and how it’s evolved over the years.
So this is the culmination of my years of toiling and bad choices.

As per usual, you can go read the full chapter for free on inkitt;
Crazy Clown Time
~

A fly tossed and turned on the bed it had made from the inside of a street lamp. It writhed, flitting it’s slow burning wings. The sound of its buzzing echoed and shook the dried up husks from the night before. It lay down on its back, it’s underbelly exposed to the warm glow of the synthetic sun. Fading off into an incandescent permanent state of blissful sleep.

“Pauly had a red shirt”

“Pauly had a red shirt”

“-Suzy, she ripped her shirt off completely”

Outside the lamp the streets of Highland were laden with a thin film of dry dusk. It cooled, solidified into a thick cold sheet of night. It was quiet, so quiet if you stopped walking you could hear your own heartbeat. The streets seemed frozen in this part of town at night, like a photograph. A car radio played an obscure slow song.

“Pauly had a red shirt”

“Pauly had a red shirt”

“-Suzy, she ripped her shirt off completely”

A grey oldsmobile cutlass idled under the street lamp. A bare stretch of land. The car at the side of the road parsed between a large empty lot consisting of nothing but light brown dirt. The California mountain range by moonlight backdrop. On the other side a church that looked like the taco bell symbol edged in by anoemic looking palm trees. The parking lot of the church was almost empty but for a large white sedan, other than that he was the only prowler out.

“Danny poured the beer-“

“-Danny poured the beer all over sally”

A man’s hand drummed against the driver’s side door. Stiff fingers fumbling out an awkward beat. In the driver’s seat he sat, bathed in artificial night. The cone of unnatural light cast a deep dense shadow. The radio continued to play as the car idled.

“Danny poured the beer-“

“-Danny poured the beer all over sally”

The hood of the car was broad, it menaced the sidewalk. Hummed and seethed. A low hungry growl rising and falling over and over. The headlights dipped. Sucked the night air through its teeth.

“Danny poured the beer-“

“Danny poured the beer-“

“-Danny poured the beer all over sally”

The tires clawed the road, and then released it again. Padding it like a cat. Tensing and jostling, it waited.

“Ah, ah“

“Buddy screamed so loud he spit”

“Buddy screamed so loud he spit”

A waft of cool night air carried the dank smell of cheap perfume. The hairs on the driver’s bare arm raised in anticipation.

She leaned against the passenger side door, she was perfect. He withdrew his arm as she pressed herself against the car. The smell of her dimestore perfume sent his head swimming. A blissful day dream of a hot summer day, pushing a girl on a swingset. The balmy smell of wheat, dried sweat.

She pressed a weapons grade set of fake tits against the glass of the cutlass. Her skin was milky white, almost translucent. The skin of her breast stretched to the point of revealing all those thick blue veins. Almost like a steak. A sheen of sweat over them made them look like two moons sinking into a leopard print tank top. The word “Juicy” embossed on the front.

“We all ran around the backyard-“

“-we all ran around”

She leaned forward, balancing herself with one arm cocked over the roof. Taking those cold slabs of flesh off the glass. He watched her from his dark seat, as she lowered her head to talk. But she seemed to stop short of her eyes. Only revealing a set of dark red lips, her liner even darker, made her lips look like burnt leaves. As she mouthed “Open up” tapping her tacky toxic green stick-on nails against the glass.

He waited a moment, looking at the veins on her neck, her pale flesh like the page of a book. He followed her green stick-on nails as she motioned to him to open the window. And back to her neck, seems like someone couldn’t resist to doodle all over her. Crawling up her neck the words; “Prudence never pays”. His eyes drawn to her obscene breast. The words “He never even looks at me” tattooed across them in the same style.

He could sense her rising impatience. Stretch marks carefully hidden began to poke out above the exposed top of her bra. She had flabby white arms. He imagined her as a german barmaid type, crudely throwing plates onto tables. Giving up that life to stand out here getting goosebumps looking at strangers.

“We all ran around the backyard-“

“-It was crazy clown time”

He wound down the window slow. She seemed to flood through, her smell vile and intoxicating and stronger than ever. Perfume junk food. He knew it wasn’t good for him but he kept breathing it in, drinking it up.

“You want some company?” She said as she perched herself on the edge of the window. The night panned around as it was ought to do. Getting a good look at her. Her ass squeezed into a pair of camo yoga pants that seemed two sizes too small. Despite that being impossible. Who knows what she was hiding under those, more stretchmarks, some cigarette burns.

He didn’t say anything, the night air danced on the back of his neck. Tiny cold feet tapping up and down his spine, telling him it was right, tonight. He didn’t notice his hands on the wheel until they were tensing up on the faux leather. The noise of flesh tightening as he squeezed harder and harder. Rhythmically building until it felt like something might burst.

He pressed a button on the dash, the door unlocked.

She slid into the car with a practiced hip wiggle. She fell into the buckets seats like a catcher’s mitt. The door slamming shut behind her.

Up close she had sullen eyes and a wide flat face. Her hair was a washed out brunnette imitation of something Marilyn Monroe may have had at one point.

“Quiet type?” She said.

He breathed out and kept his face hidden by a nervous hand at his mouth as he leaned his arm against the window.

“Crazy clown time”

“-it was crazy clown time”

The music was much louder in the car, masking the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. It was all around him, the inside of his car felt like it was filled with cotton balls. He couldn’t look at her, she was too close, he scanned her up and down from the corner of his eye.

“Do you have a place we can go?”

“Crazy clown time”

“-it was crazy clown time”

~

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