Okay, okay, so the title of this post is a little misleading.
Today is a big day, lots and lots to do, but most of all, the top of the lots, is that it’s book release day for Stone Cold Bastards!
If you haven’t heard about SCB then here ya go!
Hell has released its ravening horde of demons, leaving most of humanity a puke-spewing, head-spinning mess of possession.
Humanity’s last hope? A team of misfit gargoyles—including a cigar chomping, hard-ass grotesque—come alive and ready for battle during the End of Days. They guard the last cathedral-turned-sanctuary atop a bald knoll in the North Carolina mountains.
Gargoyle protection grudgingly extends to any human who can make it inside the sanctuary, but the power of the stonecutter blood magic, which protects the sanctuary, may not be enough when a rogue grotesque and his badly-wounded ward arrive.
All the hounds of hell are on their heels. The last sanctuary is about to fall.
What are other authors saying? I’m glad you asked!
“Misfit stone warriors against the demon apocalypse—a bloody good story!”—Gail Z. Martin, author of Shadow and Flame
“Stone Cold Bastards is the most fun you’ll ever have with the apocalypse. I’m not sure which I love more–the hillbilly-styled grotesques, the polite demons, or guts, gore, and mayhem.” – Diana Pharaoh Francis, author of The Crosspointe Chronicles Series
“Stone Cold Bastards is a badass urban fantasy with heart and style. You’ve never seen heroes like this before!” –John Hartness, bestselling author of The Black Knight Chronicles Series
Still not sold? Well, instead of tonight’s usual drabble, I give you a 180 word excerpt. I tried to hit exactly 100 words, but it just wasn’t happening.
He was too late. He saw it in her eyes. Eyes that were perfectly human one moment, but then not so much the next. That’s all it took. For a possessed that was occupied by one of the higher demons to make eye contact with an unprotected human. The transfer was instantaneous.
“Where am I?” a weak voice cried. The voice from the human who had suddenly lost the parasite that had been living in her for years. “Oh, God, where am I?”
The possessed around her laughed and the dispossessed woman began to weep and plead for someone to tell her where she was, what was happening, who they all were. They didn’t offer her any answers. Instead, they tore her apart.
The blood and gore was for Morty’s benefit. Normally, the possessed wouldn’t have wasted a vessel like that, but they wanted him to see their cruelty. Not that he needed to see it. He felt it writhing underneath him as Shandra bucked against his stone form.
“Hello, Mordecai,” a multi-toned voice said. “I have missed you.”
Click that pic above and get to the ordering! You will not be sorry, y’all!
Oh, it is on like Donkey Kong! Welcome back to another Friday Night Drabble Party!
Can I get a woo to the hoo, y’all?
Okay, as y’all know, I have a lot going on. A lot going on. A lot. Going on. So here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m posting pics below and maybe one will catch your eye. New novel (Outpost Hell). New novel available for pre-order (Stone Cold Bastards) with a fine t-shirt giveaway. New audiobook out (Drop Team Zero). A novel that has killed it in the SciFi charts and continues to get great reviews and is available in audiobook (Roak). So much going on. Click a pic and be transported to what suits yer fancy.
Now, how about we get to those 100 words of awesome?
A Small Woman
Tera sprinted across the grass, her feet slipping in the damp dew of the early morning. Her lungs burned and her calves had begun to cramp, but she didn’t dare slow.
Her only thoughts were to get to her daughter before that hatch closed. As if she could do anything against the machine that had come for the children. As if a small woman, petite since birth, could fight off the empire and take back the thing most precious to her in the world.
Tera screamed as the armored truck pulled away, spitting gravel in her face.
Disclaimer: If you can read this, you are too close.
Time for another night of 100 words! Only 100 words! No other words are allowed! If you are holding other words, put them down right now. PUT THEM DOWN!
Ha. I kid. You can hold as many words as you want.
Know what else you can hold? Or, better yet, wear? A Stone Cold Bastards t-shirt!
In order to enter, pre-order Stone Cold Bastards here, then send proof of your purchase to firstname.lastname@example.org. The contest is open to anyone who has already pre-ordered and anyone else who pre-orders by 11:59 PM on 2/23 (Print or ebook versions). Two winners will be chosen and notified of their status on Monday, 2/27. Contest is only open to US residents.
Oh, oh, and guess what? Outpost Hell is available!
Of course, you can get all this news first if you subscribe to the mailing list. Just sayin’.
Now, on to the Drabble!
A punch to the head was better than a kick to the balls.
It was a philosophy I’d lived by for most of my life. Hard to fault the logic in it.
Unless the punch to the head is done by a seven-foot tall, monster of a man. Fists like bowling balls. Heavy and solid. Solid enough to knock me halfway across the room and want to cry for my mommy.
Of course, my loaded pistol was better than his fist. Hard philosophy to learn for a big guy like that. I had no problem teaching it to him.
Disclaimer: FAKE DRABBLE!
Welcome back to another episode of Writing In Suburbia. Episode #50! Woo Hoo!
In this episode I talk about how to stay motivated in the face of this hell that our country and world has become. I go into great detail, and rant quite a bit, about how hard it is to keep writing escapist fiction. I also talk about how escapist fiction is what folks are looking for.
Did I mention the rant?
Enjoy the episode.
Finally! Another episode of Writing In Suburbia is up.
In this episode I talk about how in order to be successful in the publishing biz you have to learn to adapt. Not so much compromise, as just learn to go with the flow and tweak your outlook to be included in that flow. I touch on a lot of topics in this episode, so it’s not one to miss.