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Friday Night Drabble Party!

Last Friday of February!

That has zero significance, but I thought I’d say it.

So, before we hop into tonight’s drabble, I have a few announcements.

1. My teen horror novel, Intentional Haunting, has been nominated for a Bram Stoker Award! Huzzah! I’ll find out in May whether I’m a winner or just honored to be nominated. (Permuted Press has dropped the ebook price to $2.99! Go get a copy!)

2. Permuted Press has dropped the price of Little Dead Man as well. This is my YA zombie novel filled with plenty of Jake Bible action, just minus my potty mouth. It’s a roller coaster ride of post apocalyptic goodness! Got get a copy while it’s $.99!

3. Z-Burbia is on sale for the next day at $.99! If you haven’t read my bestselling Romeroesque zombie series then this is your chance to get the first one cheap! CHEAP, I SAY! Plus, if you buy the ebook, you can also get the audiobook for just $1.99! $1.99, I SAY! WHAT A BARGAIN!

Just click on the pics below for the novel of your choosing! Be sure and grab one of each!

IntentionalHaunting_EbookCoverLDM CoverZburbia_ebook_cover











Now, on to tonight’s drabble!



A Collective
Jake Bible


The sickness spread so slowly that barely anyone noticed. A sniffle in this village one month then a rough cough in the next village a month later. That was it. Just a few sniffles, some coughs, a couple fevers.

The problem was the sniffles, the coughs, the fevers didn’t end, they just hung on for weeks and weeks. People could work, people could socialize, it was never enough to take anyone down.

Not until everyone was sick.

A collective virus, fully activated once a 100% infection rate was achieved.

When it showed its true nature it was over in minutes.




Disclaimer: WHAT A BARGAIN!

Views From The Captain’s Chair- Nom Nom Nominated! Now what?

So, the 2014 Bram Stoker Awards have been announced. Yep. They have. Holy crap. Seriously. Holy crap.

Why the holy crap? Because my teen horror novel, Intentional Haunting, has been nominated for Superior Achievement in a Young Adult Novel!

That’s pretty crazy. Honestly, I never thought this novel would end up on a Final Ballot. It was a novel that my former agent tried to shop around, but couldn’t find a home for. When it was picked up by Permuted Press, it was bundled in a contract with my YA zombie novel Little Dead Man and my forthcoming middle grade scifi/horror series (think Goosebumps meets the Scooby Gang in deep space) ScareScapes. I knew it would be published, but the focus was more on LDM and ScareScapes than on IH.

Not to say I didn’t think IH was a great novel. It has always been a personal novel for me. It hits that John Green meets Stephen King note. Lots of teen angst with plenty of good, old fashioned spooky horror. And gore. Plenty of gore. Plus, because it’s a Jake Bible novel, a nice smattering of snarky humor. I can’t help but bring the humor, even in a dark novel that’s full of horrible parents, abuse, alcoholism, bullying, neglect, love, strength, passion, and Good vs Evil.

Now, with all that said, I am in a bit of a quandary. What the hell do I do with this honor? I’ve never been on a final ballot before. I’ve been in prelims, but those are usually chock full of recommendations from fans, readers, writers. It those long lists that the finals are chosen from. I have now been chosen and I have no idea what to do.

I’ve updated my bios to say “Bram Stoker Award nominated-novelist”, but when dealing with a trillion different websites in this social mediapalooza reality, I know I have missed approximately 999 billion websites. Too much to keep up with, yo!

Okay, so bios updated (maybe) and I have tweeted and done some FB posts. Now what? Do I contact my local bookstore? Would they care? Do I put out a pres release? Is that over the top? Do I try to capitalize on this by promoting the shit out of this novel? Will that do more harm than good? Do I just keep my trap shut and be all humble and suppress the “Holy shit I’m nominated for a Bram Stoker!” feeling that’s coursing through my veins?

What the hell do I do?

The short answer: I do not know. The long answer: I do not know.

I’m sure there is some sort of etiquette to this whole thing. I just don’t know where to find that etiquette. It’s always prudent to follow the mantra of better to keep your mouth shut and look the fool than to open your mouth and prove it. Lord knows I have done plenty of proving it in my writing career.

But, if I keep my mouth shut then am I missing a golden opportunity? Am I passing up a chance that may not come again?


This is the problem with being successful enough to write for a living, but not successful enough to be in the inner circles of the publishing biz. I’m kinda on my own here.

So, for now I’m going to sit on this, let it marinate in my brainpan, and just enjoy the honor. I’ll watch other more experienced authors that have been nominated and see how they act. Sure, lots of them have publishing juggernauts behind them, but I can at least emulate their cool, if not their marketing reach. Best to play it safe, right?



Shit, I’m more confused at the end of this post than I was at the beginning.

Oh, well, no one said it would be easy being a writer. In fact, everyone says it’s hard as hell. I guess this is one of those moments. Huh.

Shit, I need a drink…

But, one last thing, thank you to everyone that has supported me over the years. I do know that I would never have made it this far without all of you! I never say it enough, but y’all rock!


Friday Night Drabble Party!

Let the Party begin!

As you read this I will have just seen American Sniper (or still seeing it, depending on your time zone). I am now an expert sniper. You all have crosshairs on you. DON’T EVEN TRY TO RUN!

Just kidding. WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?

So, who’s up for a drabble?

Speaking of drabbles, looks like Dead Mech is on sale for $.99! Go get that. DO IT! STOP RUNNING!

Onto the micro-fiction!



That Explains It
Jake Bible


“Wind is sixty-five knots.”

“That’s really fast.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Can we slow the wind down?”


“Can we slow it down? Maybe to twenty knots?”

“Uh, no. It’s the wind. We have no control-.”

“In the simulations you can slow it down.”

“This isn’t a simulation.”

“So? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Do you understand how weather works?”

“Sure. If you don’t like it then change it. Or go somewhere else.”

“How the holy hell did you get this job?”

“My dad bought me the commission.”

“That explains it.”

“So…about the wind?”





Friday The 13th Night Drabble Party!

Oh, yeah, baby! Friday the 13th!

Gotta love it when a Drabble Party lands on a high holy day of horror!


Okay, sorry, the booyah may have been a bit much. Know what’s not much? 100 words of micro-fiction!

But before we get to the delicious drabbleness, I want to remind everyone that Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland is available in ebook and print forms. Have a look at the cover, I think it is the perfect book for you to read while more winter storms and snow hits the US. Shit be cold out there, yo!

2015-01-18 14.50.04

Now, on to the drabble!



Nightmare Behind
Jake Bible


Ice and snow.

That was all Alan could see as he pushed his legs to keep moving. He focused on the horizon, making that his goal even though he knew it was unreachable.

“The ship is still waiting,” he said through chattering teeth. “It was supposed to stay until Thursday. We have one day to get there before they leave.”

When Rebecca didn’t answer, he glanced to his left, shocked to see he was alone.

Yet he didn’t stop. To do so would mean dying in minutes. And he didn’t escape the nightmare behind him just to freeze to death.




Disclaimer: Baby, it’s cold outside.

Friday Night Drabble Party!

It’s the first Drabble Party of February!

This has zero significance, but I am a sucker for any reason to use an exclamation point!

Sooooo, how’s y’all doin’? Ready for 100 words of pure magic? I know you are!



Nothing Ever Good
Jake Bible


They were dragging him. They were dragging him through the wet grass and across the field. That he knew.

He tried to roll his head to the side to see who had him by his left arm, but the paralytic, he assumed it was a paralytic, wouldn’t relinquish control, so his head merely hung backwards, the back of his skull bonking across the clods of earth and grass.

Chanting or singing or incanting or whatever began and he knew he was totally screwed.

Nothing good ever came from chanting or singing or incanting or whatever.

Then he felt the flames.




Disclaimer: Careful what you drink.


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