Holy shit, I don’t know what to say really. I’ve spent the last four days writing the first book in my new series and I’m sort of ‘shook’. I got in front of it and I sort of felt dread at first. Like it’s easy to just shit this silly zombie stuff, it’s so tongue in cheek and loose and clearly just for fun and monies. But this was different, this was the real deal, real blood sweat and tears and soul pouring and all that stuff. Real effortposting. It was serious and life affirming, this could be my greatest work to date. Perfectly bringing together the humour I’m sort of known for now but with this dark and bitter bite to it that keeps people coming back for more.
Needless to say I really enjoyed writing it, I felt a little overwhelmed but I think it sounds almost perfect, like Dexter reborn anew. I’m not going to say it’s the same or as good but I feel small in comparison, like I know the basic plot points but I’m the most anxious of all to see where it takes me. It’s unknown territory and I think it’s going really well, I would die for some feedback but it’s a bit too soon for that. I’ve been taking my time with it but I’ve sort of conditioned myself to keep up the 2k word limit, it’s just about giving yourself ample time and breaks to let it come out as naturally as possible in any given amount of time.
I’ll put up the first chapter next week probably and fuck it, I’ll probably put it on inkitt just to beta the first chapter because I’m so excited about it. It’s the dawn of a new era.
Oh yeah back to GS2 and does Sunday make an appearance? Find out for yourself why don’t you in chapter 4.
You know the drill, excerpt below, full chapter over on inkitt for free, for now haha.
See you.
~
TJ stumbled back through the cluttered store, taking in heady gulps of musty leather smell and dusty blued metals from the old helmets and gear. He delicately probed the bump on the back of his neck, a confused babe in the woods look on his face as he got closer to the counter.
The old man hadn’t moved and he looked like a waxwork in a some morbid museum of people not doing much. His feet up on his desk taking wheezing laboured breathes as he stared at a dog eared issue of guns and bullets.
TJ felt a little light headed, out of breath, he felt in a lot of ways like he just woke up. Which is closer to the truth than he’d like. So much ‘stuff’ had been going on he just got swept a long and didn’t think about food or sleep or any basic processes like that. Where had he been, how long had he been asleep? The mugginess was catching up to him, a ringing in his head, a dry pain behind the eyes, the coming nausea of a pressure headache.
He reached the counter and through a series of short pained breathes he said “Hey old man.” He squeezed his eyes shut and put his palm flat over one eye and breathed out.
The old man responded with a rustling of laminated paper and TJ took that as a sign to go on.
“You seen any girls around erm?” He said trailing off, not sure how that sounded.
The old man peeled down a corner of his of magazine and stared glassy eyed at TJ with an eyebrow raised. He put the corner back and went back to pretending TJ was an elaborate effort of taxidermy.
TJ cleared his throat and leaned in a little closer. “I’m looking for a girl with green hair, has she come through here?”
“Green hair?” The old man said without moving, a rye rise of an octave in his voice. “Hmm.” He russled his magazine again and said “She came in just after you, she’s over by the archery surplies and hunting gear, can’t miss her.” He laughed and went back to being a waxwork,
TJ instantly felt hot, she was here the whole time, he swallowed and felt it burn going down. He was cold and he could feel it on his arms inside his coat and on the back of his neck. He froze and then like a mechanical toy started to turn his head. Failing to look subtle he turned his whole torso over towards the right side of the store. Rebel and American flags lined the walls. Racked up were various bows and cheap looking crossbows. Life size deer targets hanging from the ceiling like polystyrene trophies looking at nothing.
Standing there was a person in a large puffy pink winter coat, a bob of short green hair poked over the top of a high collar. She looked like she was shouldering a crossbow, trying to feel the weight. The store was pretty much empty. TJ couldn’t see Jimmy anymore and it seemed like there were a few stragglers milling around browsing memorabilia.
His legs shook as they probed the floor. The felt and moved like they were connected by puppet strings, floating shakily above the ground. Pulling TJ along like he was magnetized.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her back and as he got closer it was if his eyes got tunnel vision, shrinking back into his skull. The closer he got the further his eyes reeled back in his skull. Until finally like they were on elastic they snapped back and he was a too close, depth perception completely out the window he almost fell on her. He shifted a little too much weight and bumped into her gently. He could smell a sickly sweet smell and then and he got a mouth full of goose down elbow hitting him in the mouth as she turned around suddenly. The winter fabric scraping against his teeth. Hitting him with a dull thud flat in the centre of his face knocking him off balance and filling his eyes with tears.
She didn’t react right away, until he said “Oh, err, sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“Didn’t mean to what?” A nasaly voice said. The girl in the large coat turned around and TJ caught his breath, readying his mind and heart to see a ghost in the flesh.
…There was a lot of flesh, a lot more flesh than he remembered, in fact.
“Are you, Sunday?”
~
Darkly Dreaming Demographic. 
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