Hello, again, hello!
Welcome back to the Party!
For those that don’t know, Friday Night Drabble Party is my weekly gift to my readers and fans. Every Friday I give you, yes YOU, a free 100 word story. Seriously, no charge. You just have to read my ramblings before the story. And you love my ramblings, right? RIGHT?
Speaking of ramblings! Have you heard the news? Kaiju Winter is available now by Severed Press! Huzzah to big giant monsters!
The Yellowstone super volcano has begun to erupt, sending North America into chaos and the rest of the world into panic. People are dangerous and desperate to escape the oncoming mega-eruption, knowing it will plunge the continent, and the world, into a perpetual ashen winter. But no matter how ready humanity is, nothing can prepare them for what comes out of the ash: Kaiju!
Yeah, you know you want a piece of that! Go get ya some, yo! NOW! DO IT!
Or, maybe, just maybe, you’d rather read tonight’s drabble? How about you do both? The drabble will be right here when you get back from purchasing Kaiju Winter. Take your time.
“Get to the right!” Sims shouted, his hands pressed against the dashboard as the Dodge Charger screamed down the highway. “The right! Right, right, right!”
“Shut the fuck up!” McMillan yelled. “First day in the US! Gonna take some gettin’ used to this drivin’ on the wrong side of the bloody road thing!”
“It’s not the wrong side here!” Sims shouted, his knuckles white as his fingertips nearly ripped the dash apart. “Why’d you say you’d drive?”
“Because I’m the better driver!” McMillan replied, spitting blood. “Even gut shot!”
Sims didn’t argue, McMillan was the better driver, even gut shot.
Disclaimer: BUY KAIJU WINTER!
Who is ready to Party? YOU ARE!
No, seriously, you are. Ahhh, come on. Party. There’s a free Drabble in it for ya.
There ya go!
Friday Night Drabble Party is ready to rock this planet across the Milky Way! Or something like that.
But, before we get to that interstellar rocking, how about I make a couple of announcements?
The other announcement is that Little Dead Man is available for pre-order! That’s right, you can order the trade paperback right now, lock in that early bird savings, and then it will be delivered to your door on July 15th! Or something like that. Click the link or here and you can choose your retailer! THE FUTURE IS NOW!
Now to the drabble!
Corner market. Sitting there like a hollow tumor, sick and dying.
The last remnants of the city, left alone to rot and sag.
The tinkle of glass and a small cry. Silence follows. Desperate silence. Pleading, begging silence.
A shuffle of footsteps, an angry whisper, the hint of a face. Watching, waiting, praying.
No hint of a face. More shuffling footsteps. A door opens, a door closes.
Feet slapping on ancient, cracked pavement.
Feet stopping, body quivering, mouth salivating.
Corner market. Sitting there like a lunchbox, waiting to be opened.
Disclaimer: Careful where you shop.
Time to get your Drabble on! It’s Party time!
I have actually prepped tonight’s drabble, and post, well in advance due to the fact I’ll be in Charlotte, NC when this posts. I’ll be on panels and have an author table at ConCarolinas! Come on out and see me, yo!
But int the meantime, how’s about you read some micro-fiction that will blow your mind!
Under The Influence
The speedometer read “TWORK”. No worries, he’d seen TWORK before. Just a hallucination. He was sure he was going only 20 lps. Totally safe.
“Next left,” Bisch said. “Past the third asteroid.”
“Your left or my left?” Hollis asked. He didn’t want to ask about the asteroids; he assumed the giant floating baby heads were probably what Bisch was talking about.
“We have the same left!” Bisch snapped.
Hollis took the left and slammed on the brakes, sending the spacecraft into a power slide.
“No way I’m driving through that marshmallow,” Hollis said.
“Griff! How high are you?” Bisch yelled.
Disclaimer: Just drive!
What is that you ask? Do I have a new novel by Severed Press out there in the wild, wild world of literary bits and bytes? Why, yes, yes I do.
In the post-apocalyptic, zombie infested wasteland, there is one beacon of safety in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains: The Stronghold.
For decades, the inhabitants have fortified and defended the Stronghold from zombie hordes, building their society and culture on military precision.
And chosen from the best of the best is Denver Team Alpha. DTA is the elite strike force used to rescue survivors and refugees that have made it to the hellish wasteland of Denver below. But because of the unbelievable risks, and high mortality rate, DTA has come to stand for something else: Dead Team Alpha.
Now DTA will be put to the test as something far worse than zombies comes at them out of the wasteland.
Can ya dig it? I knew that ya could.
If you have read my Z-Burbia series then you’ll notice some links and connections between the two series. It was fun writing this, knowing the backstory already, but also inventing so many new things that have yet to be revealed. I love my job!
So, if you are so inclined, grab this puppy and have a read. It’ll be worth it, trust me.
Happy Friday, Y’all!
And yes, I did capitalize the “Y” in Y’all. You deserve it!
First, a great big thanks to everyone the helped spread the word with the $.99 Z-Burbia sale! Second, thank you to everyone that helps me in any way at all!
You people rock, therefore I salute you! Or something metal like that…
Now, as you can see from the title, tonight’s Drabble Party is DEAD MECH themed. You may or may not know that my very first novel, the one that begins the Apex Trilogy, is a Drabble Novel! The one and only (as far as I know)! A novel written in 100 word sections! EXCITING!
That’s why, down below those crazy asterisks, you will find not one, not two, not three, but NINE drabbles taken straight from DEAD MECH! Yes, I know I skipped five, six, seven, eight in that count, but I needed to save time. Which I totally have lost by writing this explanation! Dammit!
And why do this mighty excerpt extravaganza? Because it’s on sale by Severed Press for $.99! CRAZY!
Bisby came up firing, his plasma cannon glowing red hot with each successive blast.
Red Legs agilely dodged to the left, taking cover behind some debris. Chunks of ancient concrete and steel filled the air as Bisby followed Red Legs’ movement, trying to aim his blasts ahead of the deader.
“Fucking stand still!” Bisby yelled. And Red Legs did, using the girder to block several of the plasma blasts. The undead machine hurled the warped and melted chunk of metal straight at Bisby.
Bisby brought an arm up to deflect the attack, the collision forcing his mech to stumble backwards.
“Themopolous,” the Doctor answered, checking Steve’s vital signs.
“Doctor? I have General Powell on secure com. I hope you have a few minutes for to speak privately?”
Themopolous glanced at the doorway as Harlow came in, sleepily stretching. She motioned at her com ear and Harlow nodded, shooing her away and taking over Steve’s assessment. Dr. Themopolous left the infirmary quickly.
“Of course, sir. I’m almost to my office now.”
“Excellent, Doctor,” the General chimed in. “I have some great news regarding the newly developed retrovirus Dr. Lisbon informed you of.”
Themopolous froze and forced herself not to be sick.
Red Legs took immediate advantage of Bisby’s faltering and opened fire. Bisby took a graze to the right shoulder, the smell of scorched metal overpowering his environmental filters, as his mech slammed to the ground. He checked systems and saw he had been lucky, sustaining only minimal damage.
Quickly, Bisby tucked his mech back behind a half buried transport, hoping the shell still had enough structural integrity left to take the onslaught. Red Legs’s blasts began to slow, the concussions weakening.
Bisby checked his scanners and smiled. The deader was losing power.
“Okay,” he said aloud, “no more fucking around!”
“I’m ready to proceed, sirs,” Themopolous said, settling into her desk chair, apprehension clawing at her, forcing her to keep her voice even.
“Excellent. I’ll keep this brief as I know you are both busy,” the General said. “At approximately 1700 hours tomorrow, a supply train will be arriving with the inoculation for your base personnel.”
“Sir?” Capreze said, stunned.
“Yes, Commander. We have already inoculated all of the city/states and security outposts. Your base is the last on the list. We didn’t want to rush the process, seeing as the mechs are an integral part of our overall survival.”
Bisby rolled his mech to the right into a tight crouch. Red Legs circled, trying to get the advantage, its cannons glowing dully.
“Looks like you’re almost out of juice, deader!” Bisby taunted. Red Legs roared.
Bisby sprang, his mech launching into the air, twisting away from the cannon blasts. Three, two, one… The two mechs collided in a massive, ground-shaking crunch.
Bisby didn’t lose stride, tucking his mech’s left arm up under Red Legs and lifting it into the air. He brought the right arm down fast, smashing at Red Leg’s cockpit, hoping to crush the zombie pilot inside.
“Is there anything I need to have prepared, sir?” Themopolous asked, her voice audibly shaking now.
“No, no, we have everything taken care of. There will be two med techs to administer the inoculations and a small security force to accompany them.”
“I’ll be sure and have accommodations ready, sir,” Capreze said, picking up on Themopolous’ faltering poise, hoping the General hadn’t.
“Not necessary, Commander. They will only be there long enough for the techs to complete their work and for the train to refuel and re-supply.”
“Well, sir, the Doctor and I will have the base ready for them.”
Bisby raged as he pounded away at Red Legs’ cockpit hatch, so close he could smell the rot and decay.
The dead mech tried to ward off the blows, but it was no match for Bisby’s close combat skills. For every maneuver it tried to make, Bisby expertly countered, never letting the bludgeoning slack.
After only minutes, the dead mech’s power reserves gave up and the giant machine became dead weight. Bisby threw the deader to the ground and shoved his 50mm into the cracked cockpit, ready to vaporize the barely moving zombie pilot.
“Biz? Talk to me!” Rachel crackled.
“Now, I do need to verify all base personnel will be present,” General Powell said casually.
“Well, no sir. I have a team on a supply run to Foggy Bottom as we speak. They won’t return for a few days.”
“Their names, Commander?”
Capreze hesitated. This wasn’t protocol. There was no need for a First General to be inquiring about the roster; that was why he had an assistant.
“Pilot Masters, General Mechanic Rind, and our new Rookie.”
There was a slight pause. “Excellent, Commander. Thank you. I’ll let both of you return to your busy schedules.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Whatcha want, Rache?” Bisby asked, exhausted, trigger finger itching to depress and obliterate Red Legs’s zombie pilot.
“What do I want? WHAT DO I FUCKING WANT?” Rachel exploded. “I want to know that you aren’t deader food! That you are still alive and in one piece! That’s what I fucking want!”
Bisby took a deep breath and removed his finger from the trigger. “Yeah, I’m in one piece. Red Legs is out of commission.” Bisby undid his harness and opened his cockpit. “I’m descending now to retrieve the head for Themopolous.”
Bisby snorted and climbed down his mech.
If you dug that, and haven’t already purchased the ebook, then get to it!
Disclaimer: There are naughty words up there. But I guess it’s a little too late for the warning. My bad!