The Devil Returns with an Infernal Plot

Greetings, Fire Enthusiasts. It has taken longer than I thought, but the next chapter in my crossover vampire series is nearly ready. As of this writing, I have completed the edits that my wonderful editor had for me. All that is left is for me to do is to venture back into Writer's Cave and work through the painstakingly slow process of reading the book aloud - to make sure that every paragraph, every sentence and every word is just right. Today I have a teaser for you, hopefully to whet your appetite or capture your curiosity...

Nathaniel felt sudden remorse. “I apologize,” he said, but didn’t elaborate exactly what he might be sorry for.

“I don’t believe you,” she said quietly. “You don’t want me here. I am not welcome.” She leapt to her feet. “I don’t know why I bother.”

With that, she marched off into the woods and was gone. Nathaniel felt torn, but merely sat on the chair and waited for his clashing thoughts to clear, curious to see which side of the argument would emerge victorious. He didn’t know why she bothered, either, but tried not to worry about it. At least, that was what he told himself. After all, he had much larger concerns. Whether he would see Marie ever again wasn’t one of them.

What he could not afford to do was have her presence distract him from his mission, which was to seek God’s face and protect those under his charge. He had allowed himself to be unfocused too many times before when it had had mattered most.

Unfortunately, she had proved to be a distraction after all. The smell of sulfur hit him when it was far too late to do anything about it.

The chair beside him was no longer empty.

Satan sat there, in far finer clothing than even Marie had adorned herself with. He stared back at the vampire with the vilest grin Nathaniel thought he had ever seen.

“Greetings,” he said as he fingered the fedora in his lap. “You really have a way with the ladies, don’t you?”

Nathaniel bristled, but wasn’t afraid. It was far too late for that anyway. Satan had caught him unawares. And with an army of vampires well on their way, he never once considered the Devil doing anything but taunting him with that fact.

“Apparently so.”

“She is a fine woman, you know?” Satan chided. “There’s an opportunity there. Her perverted brother keeps her chained up inside that estate of theirs, while he does what he pleases like Caligula. Not really in chains, of course, but she may as well be. She just sits in that garden of hers.”

“So, she wasn’t lying about that?” Nathaniel asked.

“No.”

“And of course I can trust you to tell me the truth.”

Satan shrugged. “Believe what you want.”

“Why did you bring her here?” Nathaniel asked.

“Who says I did that?” Satan laughed before he could get the words out. “I’m sorry. It’s too much of a lie even for one as accomplished in the skill as me. She’s a gift.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “The level of your contempt knows no limits, does it? She is a person and not a thing to be given or thrown out with the trash.”

“She’s a vampire, but I won’t split hairs with you,” Satan countered. “So you do like her then. Good.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did. Of course you did. She is my gift to you. Take her and do as you please.”

“Forget it.”

“And why not?” Satan asked. “You’re both alone. Why not be companions? Besides, I brought her here, but your God routinely turns things around for good, does he not? Romans eight; twenty-eight, I believe. Why don’t you ask God about it?” He leaned close. “Still not talking to you?” When Nathaniel didn’t take the bait, he sat back. “I see,” he said.

Eventually, Satan slid down in his chair in his expensive Italian suit and kicked one leg over the other. The moonlight leapt onto his polished leather shoes and held them far stronger than it had with Marie’s blouse. Nathaniel wasn’t surprised at the unearthly glow.

“Great shoes, huh?” Satan remarked, following his gaze. “It’s amazing how quickly they wear out. They last days at best.”

“It must be all the ground you have to cover,” Nathaniel said.

Satan nodded. “You would be correct.”

“Couldn’t you retire and see the world?”

“Ha!” Satan laughed loudly and some birds flew off the trees, making a loud ruckus. “Oh, I couldn’t do that. I have only my work. Seeing the world is not all it’s cracked up to be anyway. In any event, seeing it is a part of the job description.”

“Are there not wars being waged that you need to attend to? Famines? Mankind being woefully unprepared for the next hurricane, earthquake, drought, tsunami?”

“Yes,” he replied. “And infinitely more. However, I have everything covered, thank you so much. I have more than enough time for all of that, to handle what goes on here as well as what transpires in the central valley of the State to our south.”

Nathaniel blinked, but said nothing. He crossed his arms and did his best to fight the urge to take his sword off of his lap and run the Devil through with it. If only it were that easy.

“What’s the matter?” Satan asked. “Don’t you worry about Barbara and her children? Especially with Michael being here with you?”

He said nothing.

“No, of course you worry.” Satan nodded. He took his hat and set it back on his head. “You shouldn’t bother. Soon there’ll be nothing to worry about.”

Nathaniel began to pray in his mind, but showed no outward appearance of it.

“Stop that!” Satan ordered as he climbed to his feet. He threw an arm out as if tossing something away. “I was afraid you were going to start praying!” He spun around and faced him.

If Satan became riled and decided to kill him, there was really very little he could do about it, he knew.

“Look around,” he spat. “What has God done for you? I mean, really? What has he gained you?”

Nathaniel stared up at the Devil. This was perhaps his defining moment and he knew it. His chance to stand in the face of the greatest threat to God and man, and declare his allegiance. Satan leveled his cold, dark eyes at him, as if he fully anticipated what was coming.

“I am nothing without the Lord.”

Satan sighed and merely smiled. “Soon, you will be only nothing.”

If this is the first you have ever heard of my series, I hope you'll take a look at the first book, Dance on Fire. The e-book can be had for 99 cents at any of the major e-book stores. Here's the Amazon link. The series is definitely crossover or edgy, if you will. I don't label it Christian, though the themes are obviously present. You're going to find some language and a whole lot of blood being shed. Sometimes you will find your nose in the stuff. On the other hand the horror isn't so gratuitous that it turns all except the die-hards away.

Anyway, I hope you'll like it.

We'll talk soon. 

The Devil is Alive and Well

“What is that?” Luis asked, trying to compose himself while his body seemed bent on bringing up the remaining undigested contents of his stomach.

“One of our brothers,” Nathaniel stood and said.

“What?” Luis managed to ask. “But how? Who?”

“I am uncertain.”

Nathaniel was out of sorts. He was as confused as he had ever been in his life, going back all the way to his home in Cimpulung, Romania. The object at his feet was clearly a burned human form, and one of the monks of the monastery. How he had been dispatched was unclear. There was no wind about them, though the monastery was high in the mountains. It was as if everything was dead - human, animal, plant, atmosphere – everything.

“What’s that other terrible odor?” Luis asked.

“Sulfur,” Nathaniel answered. And then he began to wonder.

“Sulfur?”

“Yes. It used to be called brimstone.”

Greetings, Fire Enthusiasts. *glances around, sighs* Still summer, huh?

This is the traditional end of summer weekend, and how I wish it were Halloween already. At least then the heat would be long gone. If you enjoy summer then I hope the season finds you enjoying all that is left. Me? Not so much. That's central California for ya'. *grins*

I led off with a snippet of book 2 in my Dance on Fire crossover vampire series. The series that begs the question whether a vampire can be used by God. It's not a Christian novel, necessarily, but it does ask those questions and plays along those lines. The reviews have been good for Dance on Fire and Dance on Fire: Flash Point. I'm sitting on book 3 at the moment, patiently awaiting word from my betas as to how I'm doing so far. I've actually heard from one of them already, and she couldn't be happier. She says it's my best so far. That's always great to hear. It does have a title that I am not yet ready to reveal. The amazing Maria Zannini is also whipping up her cover magic at the moment. I'm still taking my time and hoping for an early 2015 release. We'll see... 

Cautiously, they walked inside the monastery. The sound of the door opening and closing behind them was loud. The monastery, which had always been a place of quiet reflection, now reminded Nathaniel of a crypt.

He would soon hate himself for having thought so.

When they turned a corner they stumbled upon two more smoldering heaps of human remains. In the candlelight they could make out more of the details, but it did nothing but succeed in making them further sickened in both stomach and heart—and for good reason. Not only did Nathaniel fully expect to see more of these, but now he was certain that Luis might be the last of his brothers left alive.

At the end of the corridor, there was another.

They walked through a doorway and were met by yet another. Luis covered his nose with both hands. They began to walk faster now. Their footfalls echoed harshly against the stone and wood building.

Outside the sanctuary, they found another. They had to slide it out of their way in order to open the door. When they did, they found precisely what they expected to find. The place was filled with rolled up charred remains. In the light of the sanctuary, the smoke and heat could be seen wafting off.

“My God!” Luis whispered.

“No, it isn’t.”

At the front of the sanctuary was a figure. At first glance, he appeared to be a tall man with a medium build, although he stood with his back to them, his hands clasped behind him. “I know you’re not referring to me,” he laughed. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The man wore slacks and a dress jacket. His dark hair was slicked back. The candlelight reflected off gold jewelry on several of his fingers as well as his left wrist.

“You know,” he continued, but still didn’t turn around to face them. “There’s something about this architecture that I’ve always liked. I don’t know what it is. I guess it’s familiar.”

“Whatever happens,” Nathaniel instructed. “Do not speak.”

Luis turned as if to ask why, but Nathaniel gave him a sharp look. He turned back just as the figure before them turned. He was still holding his hands behind his back.

“That’s right, dear Luis. Don’t speak. Truth be told, none of your brothers said anything either and it didn’t save them. Who’s to say what may happen?”

The reason I'm offering up what happens at the end of book 2 is because it is a fantastic tease as to what will be the entirety of book 3. Satan is not pleased that there is a vampire seeking God and thwarting his plans at seemingly every turn. It gets under his skin, as it were. And he will not put up with that...

“What do you want?” Nathaniel asked.

“What do I want,” the figure mimicked. “Hmm? I wonder. No, wait. I know. I want you to stay out of my affairs!” With those words, he swatted a smoldering ball of remains that was on the pew beside him. It rolled along the pew and collided with another, causing both to fall onto the wood floor. “I want you to quit killing my creations! How’s that? Is that clear enough for you to understand?”

“I have only become involved when it had to do with my friends.”

“Not true,” he said, and his voice was suddenly lacking the vile anger of just a few moments before. “When you leaped through that nursery window and interfered with my son, they were not yet your friends.”

Nathaniel saw Luis out of the corner of his eye. The man looked awestruck, but he couldn’t worry about that now. It was obvious, however, that Luis knew who this was.

The devil walked up the center aisle and stood before them in all of his twenty-first century splendor. He was impeccably dressed in a double-breasted grey suit, grey slacks and black Italian dress shoes. He removed his hands from behind his back and clasped them before him.

“So,” he said. “You boys have done well: four vampires dead. And let’s not forget about Angie.”

Nathaniel said nothing.

The devil looked away as if remembering something. “Make that five vampires. I forgot about Mark.”

The devil tried to tempt Nathaniel into reacting negatively. He wasn’t taking the bait.

“I mean, those were your bite marks on his neck, right?” he sarcastically asked.

“Yes,” Nathaniel answered through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry,” the devil asked. “What was that?”

“Just what is it that you want, Devil?” Nathaniel asked, trying to get the conversation away from that nerve that the devil had begun to scratch.

The devil straightened up his posture. “I really don’t like that name,” he said. “I prefer Satan. You may call me that.”

Nathaniel said nothing. He knew enough about the devil from what he had read in the Bible to know that he needed to speak as little as possible. Anything more and he risked getting drawn into something that this evil force might be able to use against him, or risk becoming angered such that all of his control might be lost. As it was, things were tenuous at best.

And Satan knew that.

“What may I call you, is the question.” The Devil walked up to Nathaniel and didn’t stop until he had come before him, nearly touching his nose with his own. “I created vampires. You are a vampire. I imagine that you won’t quibble with this. That must make you my son. What do you say?”

So there you have it. I took a break from the series and these characters I have known so long when I wrote Seeing Ghosts. I was pretty burned out. It was such a wonderful break that I came back to my series, renewed. I wrote 143k words in four months. Soon I will take another pass at it before sending it off to my fantastic editor, Natalie G. Owens. If you have yet to sink your teeth into the books, I hope you'll take a look at them and give them a chance. Perhaps you'll like them enough to get caught up before Satan steps out of the shadows and attacks the vampire Nathaniel and his extended family with all that he has up his diabolical sleeve. Get the e-book that starts it off for only 99 cents.

Have a great September.

We'll talk soon.

Barbara meets Nathaniel

Hello, Fire Enthusiasts. Thanks again for taking the time to pay me a little visit. I hope to return the favor, dropping by occasionally, as I can. I won’t bore you with the details; however, work continues to weigh down upon me. I worked another weekend. My wife and I have managed to steal time together, but both work and the writing lifestyle are doing its level best to rob time that should be spent with family. If you don’t hear from me, that’s where I am – with family. Hopefully things will calm down soon.

While I sort things out, over the next few weeks I plan to simply “Let the Music Do the Talking.” I hope Aerosmith will forgive me borrowing that line. What follows is a small portion from my debut novel, Dance on Fire. It is available at Amazon.com for .99. In the piece, our hero, the vampire Nathaniel has just saved a woman’s children from the villain vampire in our story…

   

“Peace to you,” Nathaniel softly greeted the woman as she came to.

He leaned only so close to her, using the darkness of the room as a veil, as he did not wish to frighten her further, he being yet another stranger inside her home.

She recoiled, pushing herself away from him, sliding back along the carpet. Nathaniel made no effort to follow.

“Who are you?” she demanded to know. She was still much too groggy, and not in any shape whatsoever to be making demands. They both knew it. She closed her eyes suddenly and winced. She brought a hand up to her head.

“Oh,” she grimaced in agony as a sharp pain seemed to take hold of her.

“I happened to be near when I heard your screaming,” he began with a tender voice. “So I...”

“Oh, my God! My babies!” She made a futile attempt to get to her feet.

“Take care!” he said, suddenly out of the darkness and upon her. He took her by the shoulders and pushed her gently back where she lay, careful not to touch her bare skin. “Your children are fine. Nothing at all has happened to them.”

“Swear it!” Barbara surprised him by suddenly demanding.

Nathaniel surprised himself by answering. “I swear it.” He uttered the words without thinking about them first.

In the silence that followed, he found himself contemplating how strange it had been to act in such a way. He wondered why he was still present in the woman’s house.

“Where are they?” she asked, a bit calmer. Nathaniel could feel the woman’s muscles beginning to loosen below his fingers.

“They are safe in their beds, and sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” she asked, incredulously. “How could they be sleeping?” She started to tense a bit. “Just how long have I been out?”

“Not very long. I do not know the exact time, however.”

“What happened to the...the man who attacked me?” She winced again, but seemed to become more lucid.

“I frightened...” The beast, he caught himself about to say. There was no need to go into that with the woman. “I frightened him away just after he had gained entry.”

The woman attempted once again to sit up. She paid dearly for it.

“Ow,” she cried out.

“You are in no condition to stand,” Nathaniel told her. “Please, relax.”

Nathaniel took his hands away from her now. As he did so, he found himself pleased. She seemed to take no notice of his releasing her, just as she had apparently not realized how long he had been holding her down when she had attempted to stand. Could it be that he’d gained her trust in so short a time without even trying to do so?

He watched her for a moment. He was sure she was unable to see much more than his outline, not that she was even attempting to discern it. Her eyes were closed while she dealt with her circumstance. The woman was quite lovely, he determined. This, of course, was not the most optimal time for judging physical beauty. She was disheveled in appearance, both in hair and dress. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. He detected a trace of blood upon her lower lip, and menstrual bleeding as well, although very faint. Her last day, he surmised.

Yet, Nathaniel could see the woman that she was, beyond this terrible trial. He found himself strangely pleased that he had been able to stop Vincent from shedding blood (at least in this house). Not that Vincent would go to his vile rest tonight on an empty stomach, but he would acquire no blood here. Whether he had desired to kill them all or to simply destroy the mother’s life forever, he was certainly capable of anything. It was a fact that Nathaniel knew all too well, and wished not to think about. He had a great many instances or horrors and degradations safely locked away in the vault that was memory. A vault that recently began to show cracks.

“I must go,” he said softly. A part of him wondered whether she had heard at all. Had she fallen unconscious again? No, there was movement, however slight. Though her eyes remained closed, he continued. “If you must, I will gladly present your babies to you. I assure you, however, that they are well, so you may wish to reconsider.” Barbara could only moan by way of acknowledgement.

“It is settled then.”

Slowly, careful not to touch her exposed flesh, Nathaniel leaned close and swept the woman off of the carpeted floor. In no shape to either argue or attempt to fight him off, she could only interrogate him with the meekest of voices. “Where are you taking me?”

“Momentarily, you shall find yourself in your bed.”

No sooner spoken and it was so. He softly set her down upon it and turned to go.

“Wait,” she whispered after him, as if sensing that she was suddenly alone.

Her eyes fluttered open. He caught her grimace because it seemed even that slight movement hurt.

“I’m Barbara. Who are you?”

“Please, rest,” he said from the darkness of the entryway.

 He could have said nothing. He should have said nothing. He could have ignored the woman and simply vanished from her life and the lives of her family forever. Before he could contemplate anything, Nathaniel found himself shuffling back to her.

Conflicting feelings began to emerge. It felt like ghosts—things about him that had long since died and were thought forgotten. He could still turn now and be away from here; away from this house, from this meager room, this woman, this…

However, something was delaying him from doing so. Whatever it was, it was very strong. Was this some feeling of servitude? He knew of customs in the world where the individuals rescued from death or crisis who felt indebted to their rescuer spent their entire existence repaying the life gained. Why then did he feel some perverted twist upon the old tradition? Why did the rescuer suddenly feel as if he had to dedicate himself to serve the rescued?

He found his feet and started to leave. For good this time, although even then he knew he would be back.

“Wait,” Barbara called out to him. There was returning strength there, but it would not endure. “My husband will want to meet you.”

“I cannot,” Nathaniel quietly responded.

“He'll want to thank you,” she continued as if she hadn't heard his reply. “I want to thank you.”

“You already have.” He cocked one ear. Someone was approaching the front of the house with rushed footfalls. What had taken place tonight had aroused interest, of course. In any event, it was finally time for him to leave.

“I am Nathaniel. I cannot stay. Please, tell no one of what has transpired here tonight.”

“What?” Barbara questioned. “How can I keep this a secret? Why would I want to do that?”

“Please,” he began, but said nothing else. Too much had been said already; too much had been done.

 

I miss you guys. We’ll talk soon.

At Long Last...Amazon (Free Event)

Hello, Fire Enthusiasts. Hey, it's mid-week! What am I doing posting again? Well, I'll tell you. It's been a long strange trip...




Many of you have been with me since January 2010. I thank you and everyone else who has climbed aboard since then for your visits, encouragement and, in a great many cases, friendships like I have never known. We may not have grown up, attended school or worked together; however, you and I share something that family, friends and co-workers have never been able to understand. We have a love for telling stories and a storehouse full of stories to tell.


As most of you are aware I lost my small publisher recently, as she closed up shop quite unexpectedly. I had that pity-party for a day and then converted that wasted energy into action. I contacted a few of you about joining your small presses or publishing homes, but in the end decided to go it alone. Please forgive me if I wasted your time. I didn't think I had the time or knowledge to go it alone, but so many offered support and so much of themselves that I realized that it was only fear that was holding me back.


Putting your advice and encouragement to good use, I (reluctantly) stepped away from the blogs and social networks, and entered the proverbial writer's cave where I began line editing my debut novel, Dance on Fire. For those who have read it already, I thank you. I found those errors and took the polish to every sentence and have, I think, made that baby shine. I apologize for not having done that the first time. I thought I had. *sigh* I'm still learning, and endeavor to do a much better job with every subsequent release.


The novel had been on every site except Amazon. When the publisher closed it came down everywhere. Now its back, better than ever, and firmly ensconced on Amazon's KDP Select Program. The link at the top right hand of my blog is working again and will take you right to it.




If you're new here and are unfamiliar with my book, it is a PG-13 read about two vampires who know one another and are not exactly pleased about that. They meet in modern day Central California in my real-life hometown of Kingsburg, leaving quite the body count. It is a crossover, combining the best of "edge of your seat" horror and suspense with Christian themes. I did my best to toe that middle ground and hope you find it to be a wonderfully fresh combination.




Those of you who know me on the social networks may have already seen an invitation to this weekend's free event. If not, allow me to invite you now. This weekend, August 4th and 5th, I am launching my arrival on Amazon with a free event. Let me also thank you in advance for picking up your copy, replacing your old version with this new one and for sharing this news wherever you can. You guys are great that way, so I thank you well in advance.


What's next? I have heard back from some betas on Dance on Fire: Flash Point. I will quickly turn my attention there. We have been working on the cover. Once I line edit that bad boy, I will be having it professionally edited for release before the end of the year. It seems I have been promising this for a very long time. I plan to rectify this very soon.


Once again, many thanks for your friendship, encouragement and support.


We'll talk soon.

Jerry W. McKinney

Greetings, Fire Enthusiasts. I've been reading again; at least trying, anyway.

Last year I raved about a short story that I had read from Author Jerry W. McKinney. It was entitled Feed, and although I am pretty terrible about recalling plots long after finishing a story, I do recall the surprise ending on that one being quite good. I won’t reveal it, but I swear I do remember. I had this to say at the time: "I just read the short story 'Feed' by Author Jerry W. McKinney that restores my faith in horror's potential when it comes to the subject of vampires... With an unexpected twist and writing that reminded me of the best of Clive Barker, McKinney surprised me and made me an instant convert. Beware reader, 'Feed' might mean more than you think it means."

I have had the privilege recently of reading two more of McKinney’s works that I think are worth your time.

The first one is Lie Canthropy. The synopsis reads: "What mystical force is released by the twirls and undulations of a dancing girl? And what power does she exert over a captive audience in a town built on secrets? Is it worth the soul of a child?"

Show More

Show Less

As I have mentioned before I don’t have much time for reading, so very often I find myself rushing through stories. With that in mind, I found myself not quite catching on with the pacing of this one, but it being so short, I went back a second time and it made more sense. It was probably me. I can tell you that I thought the title was very interesting. I had to look it up, although many of you may already know that Lycanthropy means. According to Wikipedia: "It is the professed ability or power of a human being to transform into a wolf, or to gain wolf-like characteristics." Now that you are armed with that knowledge, you can take another look at this title and see the prominent use of the word "lie" as part of the twist on this one.

I made sure that I gave myself time to properly enjoy Flesh & Blood, and I'm so glad I did. The synopsis reads: “Gotta take care of your own, boy.” Those words from his Pa didn't dampen the sting of having to put down his rabid dog. A loyal friend that was suffering from a disease that turned him into an unrecognizable monster. Jessie had no idea that there would be a lot of 'taking care' in the next few months. When neighbors show up on the farm dazed and bloody, Jessie and his Pa do their best to help their friends, but soon find that there is no way to help those that are already dead. Jessie must make the transition from boy to man in an instant as the dead rise and try to take over the farm that was to be passed from father to son when the time was right. As Jessie and his Pa make their way through this new and frightening reality, one phrase rings as true as ever.
'...life goes on, remember that.'”

Once you see how the story begins you will probably figure out what the eventual outcome will be, considering the title. I know I did. I should tell you that although I am more vampires and serial killers than I am the particular antagonists in this piece, and the fact that I had my suspicions how the story would end, I thought it was a brilliant story. It held my attention throughout and I think it will yours as well.

If I may, I really would like to convince the horror enthusiasts among you to make some time to check out Mr. McKinney’s writing. He has not failed me in three attempts. I may have guessed one outcome, but I can tell you that he often surprises, amazes and even shocks me at other times.

He’s worth the time, my friends. I’m just sorry that it took me so long to come back to him. You can find out more information or purchase his work at his author's page on Amazon.


We’ll talk soon.

Dance on Fire 2 Teaser

Hello, Fire Enthusiasts. How have you been? I'm well. I survived last week, which was our stressful yearly audit for food safety at the day job. I hear we did very well. For those who recall me talking about the left knee, it continues to improve. I have been getting great workouts in, 4-6 days a week. I have lost 14 lbs or so and feel great. I eat more fruit, watch my portions and drink light beer. *grins* If I overdue it over a weekend (Food, not alcohol), I know how long I have to run in order to burn off those calories.

Now, many of you may have noticed that I haven't been promoting much of Dance on Fire, nor has much been said about Flashpoint, it's sequel. There have been some bumps in the road, but those appear to be over. 'Nuff said! I will tell you that it shouldn't be long now. It's in that spirit that I would like to offer you this teaser of the forthcoming novel. This will be edited once more before it's published, but it's pretty close. Many thanks for all who have continued to ask for the next book. Now, allow me to quickly set it up...

It is about five years later since the events of Dance on Fire. Michael Lopez is now the Chief of Police. He has started his workday just as he always does. He gets to work and turns on his computer to find a note from Nathaniel. The vampire has moved away to a place of solitude and introspection, hoping to find out whether there might yet be a place for him in God's plans. Being a creature of the dead, he had assumed there was not.

            As soon as his Hotmail account had downloaded, something three mails down in his inbox on the left side of the screen jumped to his attention. The width was not long enough to see the entire message, but he understood the gist of it.

            Facebook. New message from NathanielL...

            The look on the chief’s face that presented itself there upon reading the line was neither a frown nor a look of glee. It was one of interest to be sure. Without pause, Michael opened another window and logged into his Facebook account. As it downloaded, the chief took a glance toward the open door and into the hallway beyond. He felt a pang of guilt as he waited. All but the cadets and Community Service Officers had access to the internet in the Police Department, and yes, he would be upset to find that his officers and detectives spent department time and resources fooling around on networking sites such as Facebook, Twitter or even the new Google Plus, just as he was doing now. He continued anyway.

            When the page came up, a snapshot of he, Barbara, Jerod, Robbie and Rebekah posing merrily before Snow White’s castle at Disneyland taken this past Christmas stared back at him. It was a ten month old picture, and although the twins looked as if they were a full two years older by now and Jerod had begun shaving, he loved it because it was a beautiful time that he did not want to take for granted.

            He moved his mouse to the top left corner of the page and clicked the Messages Icon. He then went to the new message and opened it. The tiny photo at the top left hand corner of the message was not a face but a vista of what appeared to be a tranquil water garden somewhere. He guessed what it was because he had visited it once before, although then it had been in the middle of the night, and it had been a rushed visit.

            Michael, how is everybody? I trust all are well. I am well. I still struggle at times with demons, as you well know, but for the most part things are going well for me here. Tell Barbara to continue praying. Her prayers have been extremely effectual. It takes me forever to use this contraption, but I have the time. That is a joke. Was it amusing? How is the town? Quiet? I hope so. How is Mark doing? I fear his relationship with Vanessa cannot stand, but I would not want him to know about this. What of their child? Thank you for the photographs that Barbara sent to me. They just arrived. I believe that I was the one who asked for a remote location, is that right? Another joke. The photographs are glorious to behold and I do so often. Jerod reminds me of you. Do I detect a shadow of growth on the young man’s face? It is very faint, but please do not tell him that I said this. Tell him I cannot even look upon his face by candlelight because his dark beard blinds me. Joke#3. How do the young ones like school? I am particularly intrigued to hear how they do there. They have such spirit, those two. I do not wish to take up too much of your time. The monks tease me that I take so long at the computer. They say that they could rewrite whole books of the Bible by dipping a feather into an inkwell and writing on parchment before I could but answer one tiny e-mail. They are extremely fortunate that I do not believe in shedding human blood or else they would not be so cruel to me. Joke#5. Very well, my friend. Blessings to both you and your family. Nathaniel L.

            Joke number 6, Michael thought as he reread the message one last time before closing it and logging out of the Facebook page. Nathaniel used an additional “L” at the end of his user name as if his full name had been Nathaniel Lopez and he was their eldest child and away at college. Michael shook his head with a grin as he closed down the internet and reached for some police reports and duty logs that needed his approval and final signatures. He planned to reply to the message before he went home for the day. He had time. After all, it was 8:30 am and the vampire would not be up for another thirteen hours or so.


We'll talk soon.

Vlogging again, Can You Believe it?

Hello, Fire Enthusiasts. *Said in my best (read worst) old European accent* Velcome to my home...

We'll talk soon.

Doing the Number Seven Meme Again

Hello, Fire Enthusiasts. Thank you so much for stopping by. It’s always a pleasure to have you visit.

In the last week or so, I have been tagged with the number 7 meme once again, or a variation of the similar theme which has been making the rounds this year. I don’t have the time to participate in a lot of meme’s or hops, although I hope I will as this year progresses and as I once again re-evaluate what I spend my time doing.

The last time that I was tagged with this, I offered a piece of my second novel, sadly still stuck in pre-production. This time, I am offering a piece of my current work in progress. Since it is barely the first draft, I don’t want to give away too much, lest someone steal the idea and do it much better than I could. Suffice it to say that it deals with ghosts – both the ethereal as well as the ones that haunt our pasts.

In the story, a recent widower is left an old house by his dead aunt. He and his brother visit, with the main character deciding to stay for a week. While he is there, he is haunted by the same aunt who left him the house, as well as a host of others. The woman who showed him the house and took care of the paperwork happens to be a ringer for his dead wife, who he has yet to really let go.

My thanks to the lovely Anne Nowlin, Michelle Franco and Paul Dail (That's right, Paul. You, too, buddy!). In all seriousness, these three are truly wonderful people who have brightened my days and offered encouragement in their subtle ways. They were kind enough to consider me when they were recently tagged. I hope you like the following unedited snippet from the 77th page of my current WIP, Ghosts:

     The hours ticked by as I wandered about the place, searching for inspiration. I ate something and even snacked a bit, but nothing seemed to satisfy. I stuck my iPod into my pocket and began to dust and clean; anything to get my mind off of the week’s events. I ate an early dinner of frozen burritos and a beer because I just didn’t feel hungry. I took my Kindle outside with me to the porch and sat down on the bench, but ended up falling asleep once again as I awaited the sunset.

     My rest was no rest at all. I cannot recall the subject of my dreams with any specificity, but I recall the nature of them. They were dark and sinister and I was almost always afraid. Sometimes I was being hunted and other times I was made to watch terrible things. When I eventually awoke with a start, darkness had nearly completely descended and Patricia was standing before me.

   “You’re a trusting one,” she uttered without emotion. Her words were not playful or threatening, but I recoiled, taking her very presence before me as threatening. I said nothing. “Good,” she continued. “Your silence suits you. You’ve said and done too much already.”

   “What have I done?” The words were out of my mouth before I could muster the strength to halt them.

   “He speaks,” she crossed her arms and teased. It was no kind of teasing that I ever want to endure again. Beside her on the ground was some of her equipment. She was setting up for the night’s events.

   “I didn’t ask for any of this,” I stood and continued, bolstered by her response. “I was given a house. That’s all I knew. I came here, gratefully, and have done nothing to bring dishonor to the memory of Victor and Flora’s life together. What you two have been up to is none of my business.”

   “It is your business now!” Patricia said, punctuating it by setting her hands upon her hips. “Flora needs you!”

   “Flora’s dead, Patricia!” I screamed at her, saliva like venom spewing from my mouth. “She’s dead, and so is Victor! There is no bringing any of that back! Flora took what apparently was once a beautiful and remarkable love and twisted it into something vile and heartbreaking! She needs to find rest for her soul!”

   “I have no soul!” A new voice suddenly yelled back.

     It was Flora. She was behind me and to my left. I turned just in time to see the bench roar to life as it was dragged without help across the porch. It swept me into the air and onto the ground beyond the steps easily as if I were one solitary bowling pin. The bench rolled and I felt my back scream as I went over the back of it and struck my head. I caught the blur of Patricia as she danced out of the way in the nick of time, unharmed. When I rolled to a stop, Flora was standing above me. She said nothing further, but simply held me in her wide and burning eyes.




Thanks for taking the time to visit. Have a great week.




We'll talk soon.  

The Brevity of Roses

Hello, my dear Fire Enthusiasts. How is everyone? For me, I am well. Life continues to be busy. I’m alone at the day job as some of you have heard. That leaves me doing the work of two. For those who don’t know, I supervise the Packaging Floor for Sun-Maid Raisins (the lady on the red box). I’m in the office by 4 am, work 11 hours, have over one hundred employees and seemingly all of them have my work cell number and call endlessly. Not really, but that’s how it feels. Do you like having to answer the phone when in the bathroom? Yeah, me neither…

Now, a disclaimer: I have just read another book that I’m positively crazy about, but it was a long way from horror. Therefore, if you don’t like anything else but horror, perhaps you’d better come back next week. ;) On the other hand, if you love good fiction. I may have something for you.

Disclaimer, number two: I don’t read what I would refer to as pure Romance novels; HOWEVER, I absolutely adore serious writing about flawed and scarred characters, written by gifted writers, with romantic or heart-wrenching situations.


I hope I didn’t offend anyone by mentioning that. I just wanted to set the stage for the marvelous novel that I just finished devouring. It is called The Brevity of Roses and was brilliantly composed by Linda Cassidy Lewis – an author that I am fortunate enough to call friend.

The Synopsis:

Jalal Vaziri has looks, money, women--and a habit of running from reality. When he abandons New York and reinvents himself as a poet in a California beach house, he thinks he's running from a father who hates him, a career mistake, and endless partying. A fresh start is all he needs. After an intriguing woman enters his life, he believes all his dreams are coming true, but too soon, those dreams dissolve into nightmare. Jalal flees again. Only this time, a woman blocks his retreat and challenges him to finally face the truth about what he's trying to outrun.

The first thing that I was so pleased about was the fact that this novel was not about two blond hair, blue eyed people who find love, lose love and then find it again. Like many of the fabulous gourmet dishes that you’ll find the characters cooking and eating, this wonderfully crafted story has been flavored and spiced with culture. Jalal and his pleasantly intriguing family are not originally from America, in case you hadn’t already guessed that. It was such a breath of fresh air to fall in love with a family that was so different from my own or my neighbors.

Beyond that, this story isn’t about two people at all, but three. They did not ask to be brought together, but fate intervened and they find themselves powerless to do anything about it. In fact, the three try as hard as they might not to be brought together, but in the end, love has its way.

We have three distinctive characters amongst the three leads, and a vibrant and unforgettable supporting cast that surround them throughout. Lewis’ prose is smooth and effortless. Her writing made me forget there was a narrator involved. I simply felt as if I were in the room with every character, sitting out on the deck with them or running that beach alongside Jalal. I also marveled at the pacing and the quality of the subplots, particularly the storyline involving Jalal and his father. I happened to be reading the resolution of that conflict from my desk at work. I am thankful that no one came to see me just then, because it was very moving. I wasn't crying, but I definitely had to get up and walk the moment off. 

Lewis drives me crazy sometimes because she seems to second-guess her talent. Perhaps she’s just worried that one great book is all she’s got in her. I doubt that will be the case, but I would be ecstatic were this the only book I ever wrote. That’s how special I think this novel is.



Lewis may have created the most perfect title for a book ever. In fact, it's a book within a book, since you'll find that Jalal used it to title his book of poetry that was inspired by his wife Meredith. By definition, brevity means "shortness of time or duration; briefness: the brevity of human life". It suits the plot perfectly, but you'll definitely need to find that out for yourself when you pick up a copy of this absolutely delightful and moving book, The Brevity of Roses.




We'll talk soon.