Sunday, September 30, 2012

Pieces of Shadow

Coming soon from Blood Moon Press, Pieces of Shadow is a collection of poems from an up and coming Gothic poet. His take on life and love has changed the way I view poetry. Here is just a small nibble, a chance to savor and digest his work, long before the main course

 
Demon Glass

Scratching, ripping

Tearing me apart

Blood will splatter

Across my heart

Deep within me

Not safe nor sound

Lies a demon free

Yet chained and bound

To obey and serve

At my will

This demons power

I use to kill

This sword I wield

My soul to pass

Demonic powers gained

From Demon Glass
 

Monday, August 6, 2012


                                                    Cowbob and the Teeter-Totter Gang
     
“Let me guess, you are one of them their bounty hunters looking to settle the score and bath in milkshake glory. Is that about the size of it pilgrim?”

With a quick flick of his wrists, both six shooters were drawn from their resting place and aimed square on Jack’s jawline.

Many ooh’s and aaw’s came murming from the crowd as they heard him speak.

“I’m not just a bounty hunter partner...I’m Cowbob.” Now give yourselves up or I’ll be forced to lay down rubber on yer lily liver.”

Cowbob dropped to the ground as a thick rubber band came flying across the room. It bounced off of the counter and disappeared in the distance. With a loud click, the first shot from his six shooter hit its mark. It bounced off of the mug, spilling the root beer directly on the man’s lap. Laughter rained upon him loud and true and in an instant, the man died of embarrassment. Retaliation came from the gang as the rifle released an extra thick band. Cowbob rolled out of the way at the last second, watching it bounce off of the warm spot his body had just occupied. Two more bands were released from his gun, both nailing the men in the knuckles. Large fat tears streamed down their faces as their gun wielding hands turned red and started to swell.

Three down, two to go! Cowbob thought as he nimbly dove over the chair. Shot after shot came towards him, never feeling the warmth of his skin. He released the band, aiming high. It came into contact with the light fixture and bounced off. Its new course drove it straight into the chest of Jack’s partner. The sheer force brought the man off of his feet and tumbling into Jack the rubber-bandit.

Still reluctant to give up, Jack stood, wobbly feet and all, and let loose a band that knocked Cowbob’s hat off of his head.

“No one shows my hat hair you dirty varmint!”

He braced his legs as he released the remaining bands at Jack. He watched it careen towards his fore-head, sure it would whelp its mark.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

                                                   New Release From Blood Moon Press

                                                                        Excerpt


The voices will not stop.  I see blood everywhere; violent images encompass my every waking thought.  At the grocery store, I approach the meat counter.  I ask the butcher for some pork chops.  That is when I see it.  The butcher does not bring out a cut of succulent pig, no, it’s an infant.  The butcher brings his cleaver down on the squirming pink child; a scream is cut short as he lops off its head.
              I vomit, there on the floor.  It splashes on my shoes.  The baby murderer is once again just a man, with cuts of pork.  “Are you alright sir, can I get you some water?”

The blood splattered apron, the smell of entrails.  It is too much.  I clasp my hand over my mouth, trying to stop the fresh spew of bile.  It comes anyway, dripping from my fingers and running down the front of my shirt.

“Sir…?”  The man behind the counter questioned.  I wipe my hand on my pants and make for a hasty retreat, leaving him with the task of cleaning up my mess.  I walk quickly towards the aisles of canned goods.  It is free of customers.  I sit on the floor and begin to rock back and forth.  Groceries can wait, I need to get home.  Rising from the floor, I head for the front of the store.  I grab a bottle of water out of the soda cooler and go to the register.

The pretty young cashier asks if I found everything alright.  She tries not to notice my disheveled appearance.  Suddenly her face erupts into a mass of bloody flesh.  Her eyes glow and horns sprout from the top of her head.  “I will kill you, you fucking piece of shit.”  The five dollar bill drops from my hand onto the floor.  Fuck the water, I run towards the door.

“Sir, your water…”

I hit the door, hard.  I feel my nose crunch and a warm stream flow from it.  Drops of blood mix with the mess on my shirt; I wipe my arm across my face and leave a smear down my sleeve.  I make it outside.  The sunlight burns my eyes and I fumble for my sunglasses.  They were bent out of shape from the fight with the door.  I put them on anyway; they helped to shield my burning retinas.

Walking down the sidewalk, drips of blood continue to fall.  As they splash onto the concrete they turn into spiders, fat, black spiders.  I feel it pop and crunch as I squash one beneath my tennis shoe.  I hate spiders.

I reach the bus stop.  An old woman is sitting on the bench.  As I watch she ages, her bones turn to dust beneath my gaze.  “What are you gawking at, boy?”  I quickly turn away, not wishing to have any further communication with the dust-that-used-to-be-human.
                                              NOW AVAILABLE
                                   BLOOD MOON CHRONICLES

Friday, July 6, 2012

Zorza is now available in twin pack for kindle and paperback. From the destruction of Xander to the mysteries of Earth, the band of rebels must decide the fate of the entire galaxy. One question must be answered. Should they fight...or should they flee!


Amazon World Wide

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Prologue to Evolution

It has been awhile since I have had time to post anything on here. I have been very busy working on some exciting stuff. This one however is my pride and joy Bio-Fi Novel I have been working on as of lately. I hope you enjoy!


It’s not our fault, it never was. It was in our nature to be so curious. It could have been our scientific minds working overtime to comprehend something never before seen. Either way, our superiority complex over the world at large brought the destruction of our own species. When the first specimen was reported in a lab in San Francisco we still stood a chance. We could have destroyed it and keep humans on the top of the food chain, but it was in our nature to want to examine it. The millions of years it took evolution to produce such creatures should have warned us that time was limited.



If you want to look back a wink or two, Joan Redman could have saved us all when she stumbled upon the first pod producing plant in New York. She could have ripped it out of the concrete and smashed the horrid offspring’s before they produced. Our fate rested in her hands. On that sunny afternoon however, Joan noticed the small plant with the embriotic nightmares attached to the leaves and became curious. Frogs, little frogs being born from a plant that required no water and minimal soil seemed like the discovery of the century. I’m sure she felt the dread wash over her. Deep down she battled with her own demons to an extent, but in the end, Joan Redman wanted the fame. She watched as it wiggled in its little bubble waiting to be Mother Nature’s first born. The green veins pulsed and the plant shook all the way to its roots as it tried to escape. She simply smiled to herself as she carefully plucked it from the cracked sidewalk and walked it home. It took less than seventy two hours before she had it documented and sent to Dr. Moore’s lab in San Francisco.



I guess I could also argue that it was Dr. Moore who started it all, but than I would be pointing a finger at a brilliant man. He wanted to study it, to learn from it. He found it to be out of place in the modern world and feared it. He was convinced he could learn the internal secrets it held and prepare mankind for a fate worse than death…evolution. It was actually his partner Dr. Balm who was eating up the limelight. Between the articles in the magazines, the television interviews, and the seminars, he was eager to push it to the next step. He secretly injected hormones into the first pod animal, making it grow at an alarming rate. He introduced it to shallow water and mud full of nutrients. Day after day, he would watch the frog grow.



It wasn’t long after that, when Dr. Balm noticed new plants growing in the mud. He injected the hormones directly into the stems, helping things move along nicely. It took less than a week for the plants to produce new eggs and a few days longer for them to hatch. This time, things were different. The plants were larger and the eggs were oddly shaped. It was at this point that the nightmare truly began. By the time the lab opened the next day, all the eggs had hatched and were running wild. Instead of cute little frogs, baby alligators, poison tree frogs were produced. Tiny plants already started growing through the microscopes, on the table, in the cracks of the wall, and everywhere else the creatures germinated.



By the time the bodies were found by the authorities, the plague of pod creatures had began. That was ten years ago. Even now, the vast darkness of the underground tunnels make me shiver, but it is our home. Our only goal is to survive the daylight.