And how are you? Good? Excellent!
So, before we get to the Party and tonight’s Drabble, I want to do a little selling.
I have a novel out called In Perpetuity. It’s a military scifi space opera. Here’s the description as it appears on Amazon:
“IN PERPETUITY WE LIVE!
IN PERPETUITY WE FIGHT!
IN PERPETUITY WE DIE!!
For two thousand years, Earth and her many colonies across the galaxy have fought against the Estelian menace. Having faced overwhelming losses, the CSC has instituted the largest military draft ever, conscripting millions into the battle against the aliens. Major Bartram North, Chief Training Officer on the CSC Training Station Perpetuity, has been tasked with the unenviable task of coordinating the military education of hundreds of thousands of recruits and turning them into troops ready to fight and die for the cause.
As Major North struggles to maintain a training pace that the CSC insists upon, he realizes something isn’t right on the Perpetuity. But before he can investigate, the station dissolves into madness brought on by the physical booster known as pharma. Unfortunately for Major North, that is not the only nightmare he faces- an armada of Estelian warships is on the edge of the solar system and headed right for Earth!
Major North has one chance to find out the truth, rescue the Perpetuity from its madness, and defend the Earth from attack, or all of humanity could be lost forever!
* In Perpetuity contains strong language”
Notice that statement after the asterisk? Yeah, that. This novel does contain strong language. Very strong language. The first scene is brutal. The language is disgusting and cruel. On purpose. You should check this novel out and see if you can guess why. It’s not a hard stretch to figure it out.
Click this awesome cover to get your copy of In Perpetuity now!
The Sea of Blood lapped at the shore, its crimson waves staining further the rocks that stretched up and down the coast.
Hailiene collapsed to the ground, her knees colliding with the blood crusted rocks, her body so battered that she gave no notice. She glanced at the sword in one hand and the axe in the other.
“Mother,” she whispered. “I am ready. I have done as you asked.”
A wave grew until it towered above her. When it had crashed upon the shore and gone back out to sea, Hailiene was taken with it, her reward finally given.
Disclaimer: Poop fart turdy bird nipples!
Who’s ready to get their Drabble on?
So, while you are busy reading this, if you are reading it on Friday, which I know you are because you are a faithful, loyal reader that has sprung for the implant… Forget what I just said about the implant. There is no implant. Implants don’t exist. They never have.
Sooooo, how are you?
Okay, I’ve just given up on being subtle.
What was I talking about? Oh, right, what I’m doing while you are reading this. I’ll be at a cabaret fundraiser for Asheville High School’s drama program so a bunch of kids can afford to go to the National Thespian Festival this summer.
SUPPORT THE ARTS, MOTHERFUCKERS!
The NEA should hire me. I’d be very effective.
Anyhoo, if you want to go then just head to AHS by 7pm tonight or Saturday night. Tickets are $20 for adults, $10 for students. There will be desserts and beverages provided. Plus JAZZ HANDS! You should really go.
Now, how about a drabble?
“Come one, come all! See the amazing acts of strength and daring! The world’s most amazing, the world’s greatest, the world’s… Ah, screw it,” Miguel said as he looked out at the empty boardwalk.
The shop next to his Amazing Carnival of Freaks attraction stood empty, Ms. Bessie having packed up and left months ago. No point in sticking around when there weren’t any customers.
Miguel sighed and sat his ass down on the rickety stool by the mirrored entrance to his attraction. He frowned at his reflection, noting the radiation sores that had started to bloom on his skin.
Disclaimer: SUPPORT THE ARTS, MOTHERFUCKERS!
Well, hello there! Y’all just swinging by to shoot the shit? Oh, what’s that? You want a drabble? A FREE drabble?
Well, hot damn, are you in the right place!
Not gonna do any shilling tonight (BUY IN PERPETUITY!) and just gonna get right to the mighty micro-fiction that has you all hot and bothered.
The cocktails were served, the conversation was lively, the atmosphere of the evening was friendly.
Except for the matter of the corpse in the corner.
Folks tried to ignore it, to turn their heads and pretend that they had more relevant things to discuss. But, there it sat, refusing to leave.
“Didn’t even wear cocktail attire,” one woman scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“I know,” another replied, disgusted. “The nerve.”
There was a sigh of relief when a server finally hefted it over his shoulder and took it from the room.
More cocktails were served. It turned into a lovely evening.
Disclaimer: It’s okay to get hot and bothered by 100 words. It’s a perfectly normal part of life.
I was making some audio promos and decided to turn them into video promos as well. Check them out when you get a chance and feel free to share away!
Spring break, bitches!
Yep, I will be heading down to FLA on Sunday to go party it up!
Okay, okay, I’ll actually be in the minivan with the Fam for most of Sunday as we go see my sister and then head out to see some friends where more than likely I will end up napping in a lounge chair for most of the week.
Spring break napping, bitches!
That’s how I roll.
In honor of spring break, and the fact that I will not be posting next week because of the HARDCORE NAPPING, I am giving you all a little blast from the past. I have pulled out one of my first paid submissions: The Seven Deadly Drabbles!
This collection of drabbles was originally produced by the Drabblecast way back in ’09 (’08?) and I’m pretty proud of it. Shit, Pride is one of the sins. Dammit.
Anyhoo, I hope you dig them and learn something from these little tidbits or morality. Just remember, when you are busy slurping Jell-O shots from a co-ed’s cleavage, you are putting your immortal soul in danger. Not to mention the sanitation issues of sucking stuff from other people’s bodies. Ewww, gross.
The Seven Deadly Drabbles
“Just How Safe Is Imported Food, And What Can You Do About It?” the headline ran.
I don’t know, he thought. What can I do about it?
He took the second to last bite of his imported prosciutto, fresh mozzarella and olive tapenade panini while scanning the article.
“Wow,” he said aloud. “There really isn’t much I can do.”
“That’s right, bitch,” his Italian sandwich snapped. “Not a goddamn thing.”
He felt the fever build and saw glorious colors before his eyes. How could such a delicious sandwich be so mean?, he thought, finishing the last bite before satiated oblivion.
When Alan turned his back to the shower head to rinse the shampoo from his hair, his penis couldn’t help but notice the new guy, Fernando, walking into the locker room showers.
Wow, his penis thought, when he saw the new guy’s member. Now that’s a shlong.
Alan turned back around to face the shower wall, grabbed a bar of soap and started lathering his crotch with it.
I could never live up to that, his penis thought while enduring the sudsy onslaught. Why even bother anymore? What’s the freakin’ point?
Alan’s penis sighed, depressed, and peed in the drain.
Betty waited all afternoon with the blanket in her hands, waiting for Tommy to come home.
When the door creaked open, she pounced, pulling the blanket over Tommy, pinning his arms to his side. He cried out in surprise.
Although Tommy was bigger, Betty used her momentum to knock her brother’s legs out from under him and slam him to the floor. Keeping him pinned, Betty yanked Tommy’s shoes and socks off and pulled a large, white feather from her back pocket.
“Make me pee my pants, will ya!” she cried, as she set to work on his exposed feet.
Cade and Worthington stood on the edge of the building and watched as millions below fornicated. The entire city was in the streets, naked and writhing in one last gasp of carnal passion.
“Damn! Look at ‘em go,” Worthington said, slapping his knee. He turned to look at Cade and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“What? What are you looking at?” he asked.
“My date for the End Of Days,” Cade grinned, licking his lips invitingly.
“Okay, but I get tops this time,” Worthington sighed.
The demons joined hands and stepped off the roof to join the horny hordes below.
“Ten pounds of flesh,” Boltstone said, without taking his eyes from his work.
“What?” Damascus replied. “That’s insane.”
Boltstone looked up from his ledger and set his pen down. He pulled off his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Setting his spectacles aside, he glared at Damascus.
“Price went up,” Boltstone growled.
Damascus started to object, but feeling the stares from those in the infinite line behind him, he angrily flipped open his courier’s bag and grabbed two bloody, dripping muslin bags. He slapped them on the counter and huffed away.
“Next,” Boltstone sighed, replacing his glasses.
“Holy crap dude, you’re a freaking zombie!” Jessup cried.
“Bite me,” Mort snapped back.
“No, dude, seriously, you’re a zombie. Flesh eating undead and all, man,” Jessup pressed. “You should really see yourself. You ain’t looking so hot.”
Mort glared at his best friend. “You know what, Jessup? I am really sick and tired of your bullshit.”
“Fine, whatever, dude. I’m outta here. I’ll call ya later.” Jessup grabbed his brown hoody and crawled out Mort’s bedroom window. “Just don’t let ‘em catch you outside, okay?”
Mort watched him leave, then flung his mother’s half-eaten brains at the window.
Reynolds wept from the pain. The Captain had warned him. The Chief Medical Officer had warned him. Hell, the fat ass Chief Engineer had warned him.
“Work out in full G at least three times a day or your muscles will atrophy,” everyone said.
Reynolds didn’t like full G; weightlessness was bliss and why leave bliss?
When the ship entered orbit and full G was forced upon all compartments as part of the re-entry protocol, Reynolds’ legs had snapped almost instantly from lack of use and supporting muscle.
He stared up at the intercom, four impossible feet above him.
Disclaimer: Morality is in the eye of the beholder.