Creating Dystopia and other Dark Places and sometimes just how I'm feeling...

2012-11-21T14:43:00.002-05:00

I'm back... Hopefully you're as happy as I am.

2012-08-15T21:33:00.000-04:00

The second book Survival of the Fittest - The Closest Enemy is out in all forms (hardcover, paperback, ebook, Kindle, Nook, Kobo, and everything else available).

I loved writing this book. I think it has so much action and twists that it could be hard to keep up with everything that's going on. I loved giving readers great and interesting storylines for all the characters they might have fallen in love with.

I'm currently working on 2 more books, the third book of Survival of the Fittest - The Battle for Earth, which so far will prove to keep readers hanging on for the ride of the lives. The other book I'm writing is titled The Haunting - The War Begins.

I'm sooooo hoping that more people will grab their copy of Survival of the Fittest - The Closest Enemy and continue the ride they've already begun. You know you want to. :) Glad to be back everyone.

Tomorrow is the BIG DAY!

2012-07-17T19:21:00.000-04:00

Well ok, there have been 2 BIG DAYS in July for me. On July 5th, Survival of the Fittest - The Closest Enemy was released. Hoping that will excite some people to run out there and get their copy or kindle or nook, or kobo, whatever it may be, as long as you get it. I KNOW YOU WILL LOVE THE SECOND BOOK.

Also, tomorrow, July 18th, the furniture moves to my new house. I will now have a homebase where I will write from instead of jumping apartment to apartment. So once I'm in and settled, I will begin serious work on Survival of the Fittest - The Battle for Earth - the third book in the series.

Need to take a break from the blog...

2012-07-02T21:52:00.000-04:00

I know I don't always write as much as I should when it comes to my blog, and recently, I've really been slacking off. The reason: bought a house and I'm in the process of painting, removing wall paper (horrible stuff), and moving the little things so my movers only have furniture and no boxes filled with things that I'll have to empty anyway.

I should have all the things moved by this weekend...July 7th. I should also have all the painting done by that time, fingers crossed. And on July 18th the furniture will be moved - making July 19th my first night at the new house.

So, I'm going to take a short break, maybe until the end of July, but then I'll be back. And by that time, the second book, Survival of the Fittest - The Closest Enemy should be out.

Another typed out blog - I'm getting a little lazy...

2012-06-23T20:41:00.000-04:00

I'm thinking that I'm going to have to take a break from writing for a little while. Not that I'll stop entirely, I don't think I could do that. Too much is always clicking away in this old head of mine.

But I'm thinking I will show updates of the house as I paint and do sprucing up. It's the first home I'll have ever owned and I'm just so excited. The closing is this Thursday 6/28 so I know I'll be getting everything started on Thursday afternoon or Friday, well definitely on Friday, ALL DAY!

Usually I do a video, too excited right now...

2012-06-18T13:46:00.000-04:00

I finished my edits of Survival of the Fittest - The Closest Enemy and have sent the manuscript in. The next step is to look and edit proofs and then onto publication.

Look out world, here comes book number 2 in the Survival of the Fittest series.

Second book, and new house update.

2012-06-14T19:35:00.002-04:00

A GREAT Blog for YA Authors - for ALL Authors for that matter

2012-06-12T21:40:00.000-04:00

http://www.bethfehlbaumya.com/

Please take time and check out Beth Fehlbaum's fantastic blog. You won't be disappointed. :)

Start Again A Short Story - by Michael Taylor

2012-06-11T18:26:00.000-04:00

“Start again.” The voice was bland, non-descript, with absolutely no tone to it.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to start again.” Calvin was tired, more like exhausted. He’d heard those words more times than he cared to remember. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

“Start again.”

“No,” Calvin shook his head defiantly. “You can’t make me do this one more time.”

Calvin was doing all he could to lengthen the amount of time he was in this specific location. It was the one constant in everything he’d been going through. But just like the sound of the voice, there was nothing special about this place. He couldn’t see walls, or a door. There were no windows, and when he looked up and down, it appeared as if he was suspended in mid-air.

“Tell me who you are?” Calvin shouted. “You owe me that. You should at least tell me who you are and why you’re doing this to me.”

“You have no need for answers. We owe you nothing. Start again.”

Calvin finally picked up a tone. The voice meant business, and from what he’d already learned, it would start again whether he liked it or not. “Please, not again.”

Calvin appeared on the city street, a busy intersection, and cars moving quickly. A small boy stepped into the crosswalk. Calvin jerked his eyes toward the crosswalk sign, it was white, clear to walk, but the cars weren’t slowing. He screamed out, “Stop!” He tried to dart forward to snatch the boy’s arm, but missed by mere inches.

Calvin felt the sting of a car mirror slam into his hand. He felt the warm spatter of blood spray on his face and arms. He didn’t give a thought to the pain he was in. He jumped up and darted into the street. He ran about twenty feet, knelt down and looked in the boy’s bloodied face, the body limp. He turned his head slowly to see the driver of the car.

She had already jumped out and rushed toward the scene. “Oh my God! Oh my God! I didn’t see him. He just stepped out into traffic. I didn’t have a chance to stop.”

Calvin lowered his head, brushed the bloody hair from the boy’s forehead and muttered, “Your light was red.”

“Start again.”

“I can’t. I can’t do this one more time.” Calvin looked all around him into a vast nothingness. “You have to tell me what you want.”

“We want you to start again.”

“Please! Don’t do…” Calvin’s cry was cut short.

The intersection again, cars moving faster than they should be, and a young boy beside him. In an instant he caught the flash of white out of the corner of his eye, it was the crosswalk sign. Calvin looked into the crush of oncoming traffic. Dark green, gold, gold, silver, blue, black, and then he saw it, the seventh car, the red one, the one that would hit the boy.

Calvin turned back, lunged forward, and missed the boy’s jacket completely. He fell hard on the street pavement. Sprawled out, arms outstretched. The sudden pain, the flash of red, the wet spatter on his shirt side, then the sound of a thump.

Calvin scrambled to his feet; he didn’t bother to look at the hand that had been driven over. As he rushed for the downed boy, he heard a woman’s voice.

“He just stepped out into traffic…”

“Start again.”

Calvin dropped to his knees and began to sob. “I can’t do this. I don’t know you’re doing this to me. Why do you keep torturing me?”

“Your questions are irrelevant. Start again.”

Again he stood at the busy intersection. This time he looked directly at the boy who was paying strict attention to the crosswalk sign across the street. The reflection in the boy’s eyes went white. Calvin thought quickly, stuck his leg out and tripped the boy who began to fall forward. He reached out to snag the boy’s jacket sleeve, but missed.

The black car swerved, its brakes began to squeal and then the color red. The red car careened toward the curb, the boy, lying prone in the street, nothing but a mere human speed bump. Th-lump, th-lump, the sound was sickening.

Calvin looked down, wide-eyed, horrified.

“Oh my God…” the female voice echoed.

“Start again.”

Calvin was already sobbing when he heard those words. The cold, bland, uncaring voice made his stomach churn. “How many times? Why do you make me live this over and over again? Did I do something wrong?”

“We will answer you now. You have lived this moment approximately seven thousand, six hundred, eighty two times. And, yes, you did do something wrong.” A brief moment of silence, and then, “Start again.”

Calvin was on the corner once again. He held up his right wrist and looked at the time. He saw the boy beside him. His head jerked toward the crosswalk sign. The boy was already in motion before he could react. He reached out to snag the boy, missed again, and then Calvin’s mind began to flash pictures. He could hear his own voice.

“We’re going to walk downtown.”

“Don’t let go of my hand.”

“Remember, we only cross when the crosswalk sign is white.”

What time is it? Calvin thought, and then looked at his wrist.

Calvin darted into the street, he ignored the sharp pain he felt, and stood over the boy’s body. The woman’s voice cried out, “I didn’t see him.”

“Start again.”

“The boy, he was my son.” Calvin looked all around him, “I don’t understand. Why do you keep making me live this over and over again?”

“Finally, you have discovered a truth.” The voice finally had a tone to it. It wasn’t an ‘ah-ha’ tone, but a sinister sound. “The child should have never died. The death was meant for you. But, you, too busy with other thoughts to give the child any consideration, you, consumed with the concerns of time, rather than the life of your own child.”

“That’s not true. I love my son. I love him. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.”

“You wouldn’t do anything to hurt him?” There was an audible sigh of disgust from the voice. “You let him die. You tried to protect the child when it was already too late.”

Calvin shook his head. “How could I know what was going to happen?”

From somewhere in the emptiness around him, Calvin heard his own voice, “Don’t let go of my hand.”

“He didn’t let go of my hand,” Calvin argued.

The voice answered, “That is correct. You let go of his hand. Time was more important.”

Calvin swallowed hard. He realized now exactly what had happened. “I didn’t mean to. I was just checking to be sure we were on time.”

“And now you have plenty of time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Isn’t it enough that my son is dead?”

The voice, deeper, darker, more ominous sounding than it had ever been, answered, “You have time too, and you have more time than you even understand. In Hell, time lasts forever. You, Calvin, will live the moment over and over again, for eternity.”

“Hell?”

“It is a parent’s job to protect their child. You failed the boy. You failed and you paid. Not just in the boy’s life, but with yours.”

Calvin doubled over; dry heaved, and choked out the question, “I’m dead?”

“When one fails to see beyond himself, there’s always a price to pay. There is a definite difference in the definitions of the words, selfless and selfish.”

“But I…” Calvin didn’t have a moment to finish his response when the words rang out.

“Start again.”

Pictures Speak A Thousand Words A Short Story - By Michael Taylor

2012-06-02T21:36:00.002-04:00

All four walls were covered from floor to ceiling with pictures. Each picture had one thing in common, David Wallace. The pictures ranged from childhood to his last moments of consciousness. David Wallace had fallen into a comatose state for an unknown reason. Doctors, Specialists, and anyone with any medical know-how did all they could to determine the cause of David’s coma, but there were no tests that would or could give even the most notable and knowledgeable doctors a definite reason.

The pictures were hung by David Wallace’s mother who had passed away shortly after his comatose state began. She had no idea why she hung the pictures. She had never been the type of woman to clutter up the walls, or anything else for that matter. She was a meticulous woman who kept house better than any other. But for some unknown reason, she found herself hanging picture after picture on all four walls of the room where her youngest son lay silent.

David Wallace, prior to his mother’s passing was moved home. It was believed that he wouldn’t live much longer, but weeks, months, and then a year passed, and still, he remained in his unbreakable coma. Sarah Wallace, David’s sister took possession of her family’s home and kept her brother as comfortable as possible. For Sarah, her devotion to her brother had cost her, her marriage, but blood was blood, and she would not and could not leave her brother in the care of a nursing facility that may or may not give David everything he needed.

As with any other day of the week, Sarah found herself sitting in the room with David. Her eyes would trail over the pictures on the walls. Sometimes she’d hone in on one, and find herself lost in a memory. Today though, a new thought had come to her mind, take the pictures down. She pondered that idea, stood from the chair next to David’s bed and looked at her brother. “I don’t know why. I don’t know what keeps me from taking all these pictures down.” She brushed a few tears from her cheek. “Maybe it’s because mom hung them. And for her to do that, well, it’s just, it’s just not like her.” Sarah glanced around the room one last time and then walked out, closing the door behind her.

“She’s going to do it.”

“She can’t.”

“Do you know how much I want this to end?”

“Maybe you want it to end, but I love it.”

“I have to be honest; I’m tired of living this moment over and over again.”

“You just don’t understand what’s coming.”

“He may not understand what’s coming, but I do.”

“You should shut up. Stop acting like a bunch of meanies.”

“Yeah, just shut up.”

“When I want to hear from you, I’ll ask your opinion.”

“He’s right, children should be seen and not heard.”

“I hate you.”

“Listen kid, you don’t know what hate is yet.”

“Yeah, you ought to be here right now.”

“The kids are right. Our life hasn’t been that bad.”

“Fuck that!”

“You said a bad word.”

“You’re right, I did say a bad word, and it’s because I know things that you don’t.”

“And I know things you don’t.”

“Can we all just stop arguing for a minute?”

“A decision has to be made.”

“I can make it.”

“Oh no; not you, we all know what you would decide.”

“Do any of you realize just how happy I am right at this moment?”

“Do any of us really care?”

“Stop it, stop it, stop it. I’m gonna tell.”

“I swear, if I have to listen to that again I’m going to rip my ears off.”

“Just be happy the crying Santa hasn’t started up.”

“I’m serious, look at me. I’m here at Lake Tahoe. I love it here. I don’t want this to end.”

“Screw that, you don’t know what it’s like to be bullied every day. I don’t want this to go on.”

“But you have to understand that things get better.”

“He’s right you know. Things do get better, but then they all just go to hell.”

“Why can’t all of you just remember this day? We were happy. Not a care in the world.”

“The reason we can’t remember that day is because some of us came after it.”

“Where’s mommy?”

“Should I tell him or do you want to do it this time?”

“Mommy is out grocery shopping, she’ll be back soon.”

“Such a liar, and a good one at that. If I didn’t know better, I’d even believe you.”

“Look, I’m happy where I’m at. I don’t want this to end.”

“Yeah, well if you only knew what happened right after that, you might change your mind.”

“Happy Birthday to you…”

“Someone shut him up. He does this all the time. Hey kid, there ain’t no birthday.”

“Leave him alone. For him it’s his fifth birthday.”

“Can I change the subject for a minute? This Christmas tree has to be the ugliest tree we ever had. I mean look at it.”

“It might be an ugly tree, but at least you’re with family. You don’t remember this tree, do you?”

“Holy shit, here we go; the fucking tree arguments again.”

“You said another bad word.”

“And if you keep telling me that, I’m going to say a whole bunch of bad words that’ll make your head spin.”

“I think it’s a pretty tree.”

“Who said that? And which tree are you referring to?”

“The one where I’m alone.”

“Yes, it is a pretty tree, but it’s just so lonely here.”

“So there’s another for our side. It’s time to end this.”

“Oh, so now we’re voting? Well I think we all know where this will go.”

“Fifty-fifty, there won’t be a definite decision.”

“It’s been a year now, and we haven’t been able to make a final decision.”

“Because there’s a bunch of you sentimental, bleeding hearts.”

“And what’s wrong with be sentimental? If we could all understand how some of us feel at our moment, we might not want to end this.”

“There’s too many of us. And we all know why we’re here.”

“And is that supposed to make me feel bad? I just got out of the hospital after a car accident. I’m still in pain.”

“At least we survived. You should be happy for that.”

“I know most of us know how we feel where I’m at.”

“It was a difficult time, but we got past it. We knew that suicide wasn’t the answer.”

“I say wake me up. It’s time to end this.”

“No, you’re wrong. We all know what that would mean.”

“I have to admit, I don’t like where I’m at right now, but the other option isn’t very appealing.”

“It is for me. I don’t want to go on.”

“But you’re not thinking clearly. Our end is the end for everyone.”

“Is there something so wrong with that?”

“We are what holds this world together. We are the world. Without us…I don’t even want to think about it.”

“I want to go home. I’m tired.”

“You are home.”

“Could you be anymore snotty when you answer us?”

“Waaaahhhhh!”

“Oh God, there goes the Santa kid.”

“There’s really only one of us that has the right to make the final decision.”

“You’ve been pushing this on me for a year. I don’t want to make the choice. Someone else do it.”

“You are the last picture of us. You really should be the one to decide.”

“It’s more difficult than you think. I remember all of you. I experienced everything around me. And sure, there were some horrible times, but there were just as many good times.”

“I think you should be taking the pain we’ve felt and using that to make your decision.”

“And I, unlike him, think you should look at the good times.”

“If I choose to wake, it’s the end. Mom hung all these pictures of us for a reason. She didn’t know why, but she did it. If she knew that her actions meant saving the world, she would do everything she could to keep it going.”

“Really, was mom always so great? Remember when she kicked us out of the house?”

“Decision made. David, it’s time to wake up.”

Bullied's Revenge A Short Story - By Michael Taylor

2012-06-02T21:35:00.001-04:00

Twenty five years later and he stood in a banquet room with those he went to high school with. He came alone, the same way he felt when he was in school, alone. He searched the faces of those around him, some easily recognizable, some, well the years hadn’t been so kind, but he still knew who they were. His scan of the room ended when his eyes settled on a friend, the one friend he had while he was in high school.

As he made his way toward the man, it was as if he were parting the Red Sea. No one said hello, no one stopped him to ask a question, he was ignored, nothing had changed, but at that moment he didn’t care. He wanted to see his friend. When he was close enough to the man he took notice that his friend was surrounded by people, former classmates, all chatting away. He hesitated, glanced around nervously, and then stepped forward.

His friend, from so many years ago, looked up, spotted him and rushed up to give him a hug. “Holy shit, I can’t believe it. You came. You said you weren’t coming to the reunion.”

He released his hug and stepped back, “It’s time Dan. It’s time to finally put all of this to rest. I’m ending what these people did to me. Tonight is my night. Tonight they find out what I went through, what they put me through.”

Dan nodded, “It still hurts, doesn’t it?”

He returned the nod. “I see you’re still well liked.”

“It’s the group we used to hang around with. You remember all of them.” Dan tried to be sincere, to hold a warm feeling that might melt the frigid iciness of his friend’s heart.

“They were always your friends. They tolerated me because of you.” The man looked up, caught the eyes of a few who stood nearby. A few smiles were exchanged; a friendly glance here and there, but not one person approached him. “You would think that after twenty five years, people would grow up, but nothing changes.” He looked into Dan’s eyes, “For me, the worst part is knowing that they don’t even think about what they did to me. They’ve forgotten about it. To them, it’s like nothing happened, and they were all just wonderful fucking people.”

“I know. It is sad.” Dan lowered his head, stared at his feet and shuffled nervously. “So you’re really going to do this?”

He heard a voice, from over his right shoulder, he peered back, his eyes narrowed. “And I think I’ll start right now.” He smiled at Dan who had caught sight of the woman.

Dan remembered her. She was a bitch in high school, and even now, so many years later, she carried herself in the same manner. She used the word “fag” like people use the word “the” in a sentence. And whenever she used it, it was directed squarely at Dan’s friend. Dan reached out and took his friend’s hand in his, “You know what you’re doing, right?”

He nodded. He pulled away and made a direct line for the woman, Holly. He stopped, just a few feet from her and stared. When she finally looked in his direction, she gave him a once over then turned away to continue her conversation with the people she was speaking with. Holly’s actions only spurred him on. He reached out, touched her shoulder, she looked at him.

“Excuse me,” he said, to Holly and then looked to the women around her. He knew all of them. They were part of Holly’s cruelty. They acted like his friend, but they laughed when Holly humiliated him. “Do you remember me?”

Holly looked at him. It was more than obvious that she feigned trying to remember him. “Aren’t you…” As she began, the entire group of women stared at him.

He smiled, “That’s right, you got it, I know you remember who I am,” he interrupted. “Come on. You have to remember me. You spoke to me every day.” He took note that one of the women grimaced. He honed in on her. “Yeah, that’s right, you remember.”

“Look,” Holly began, “We weren’t even friends. I never liked you.” Her words caused two more of the women to wince. “So why bother even trying to talk to me?”

He shrugged, “I just wanted to clear the air.” He took another step closer to Holly. “Fag. That’s what you called me. You called me fag on a daily basis.” His words appeared to cause Holly pain. “And you know what, you were right. I am a fag. But one thing I never needed was a person like you to tell me day in and day out, in order to humiliate me.”

“Why don’t you just walk away,” Holly hissed. “It’s been twenty five years. You should be over it by now.”

He nodded, “True, that’s very true, I should be over it by now, but I’m not. And tonight, this night, our twenty fifth reunion, I finally will be over it.” He smiled at the other women, “Watch closely ladies. I think you’re going to enjoy this.” His words chilled the group of women. The chill wasn’t simply from his words, it was more, the coldness was all around them.

The women, including Holly, began to see their breath. It was literally growing more and more frigid. He turned to Holly. He read the horror, the pain in her eyes. “Yes, this is how this ends for you. And for all of you,” he added as he looked at the other ladies. He turned back to Holly, “They get to see what will happen, you,” he smiled, his eyes brightened, “You are finding out right now.”

Holly’s voice was weak, “What are you doing?”

“From your mouth, you said some of the most hurtful things. You were cold and cruel. You did everything you could to make me suffer. So I’m just returning that cold feeling. And everyone that laughed will face the same punishment.” He looked at the group of women, one was shivering, “Yes, you were one of the nastier in the group. It will take you faster than others, but not near as quickly as it will take Holly.”

He gave Holly the up and down glance. He locked on her eyes. “Tonight I finally put all of this behind me and all I had to do was speak to you.” He watched as Holly tried to move, but she couldn’t, and he knew why. “Stuck to the floor? Hmm, that’s not good.”

“What have you done?” one of the ladies asked.

“Oh, it’s not what I’ve done, it’s what you’ve done, and none of you ever said you were sorry.” He saw one of the women’s mouths open. “Too late now, you should have thought to do that a long time ago.” He turned back to Holly, “Getting a little harder to breathe? Are you feeling how cold a person you really are?”

Holly’s jaw had frozen up, seized in place. Her eyes pleaded with the women she had been speaking with. It was clear, if she had a voice, she would beg for help.

“Ladies, now I don’t want to ruin this whole night for all of you. But I do suggest leaving now. Some of you only have a few hours left. You might want to spend that time with your family. You might want to let them know that being a bully, being cruel, will come back and,” he laughed, “frost-bite you in the ass.”

His attention turned back to Holly. Her body, clothing and all, was solidifying before his eyes. “Sorry it has to end this way.” Again, he smiled a menacing grin, “But this isn’t the end of your pain. You see, you’ll suffer twice. Just like I suffered twice; I suffered in school and most of my adult life. Once this process comes to its end, you will simply melt away. And with every drop of water that falls you will feel the same excruciating pain you caused me.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do to stop this?” the last of the women asked. “I was just a kid. I didn’t mean to ruin your life. I didn’t know any better. I was stupid.”

“Nichelle, you can change your outcome. You have the power inside to change what’s happening, but I’m not going to tell you what you have to do. Why would I help you when you never helped me?” He saw a single tear begin to fall from her eye, and in a few seconds it was ice. “You better hurry.”

“Well Holly,” he looked back into her brown eyes that were frosted over, “I guess this is where it will end for you. All eyes on you.” He reached out and ran his finger over her arm; it was solid, frozen in place. “You will melt away and so will all of my pain.” He leaned close to her iced over ear, “And I won’t have a bit of regret. I’ll be able to thank you. Thank you for letting me get rid of one of the things that caused me the greatest pain.” He backed up, winked, turned and moved off into the room. He had one more person to talk with.

Dan approached the man cautiously. His eyes were wide, a bit of fear ruled his every movement. “You did it. You really did it.”

“Yes I did. And now, it’s time to take care of part two. In two shots I’ll take away all the pain that was dealt to me.” He continued to move across the room. Dan grabbed his arm and he shot a nasty look at him. “Something wrong?”

“You know that what you’re doing is affecting a lot of people?”

“I wish I could feel sorry for them. I can’t.” He pulled from Dan’s grip and made a beeline toward Mark. When he stood directly behind the man, he uttered the words that stuck with him for the last thirty years. “Hey fruit fly.”

Mark spun around, a half smile, and then a realization of who had said it. He stared in silence.

“Remember those words? I know you do.” He looked around the room. “I wonder how many of the people here know what you and I did when we were in tenth grade. Maybe I should let them all know. I mean, I understand that you’ve kept your sexuality hidden, that’s why you moved away.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark sniped.

“We were best friends almost our whole growing up, and then one day, you turned on me. You became nasty and spiteful. You did everything you could to make me look bad. And now, you know what, I wear each of the scars inside. You scarred me more than you could ever know.”

“Why don’t you just walk the fuck away,” Mark spat.

He pointed across the room at the people who were gathering around the iced over body of Holly. “You see that? I did that. I punished her and all the girls who did and said things to me that hurt me. Oh, some of the girls will survive. They’ll know what they need to do. Holly unfortunately, well, she won’t be so lucky.” He turned back to Mark, “And neither will you.”

“I’m not going to stand here and listen to you bitch at me about something I did back in high school. You need to grow up. Let it go. We were kids.”

“You’re right Mark, we were kids, but those words you said, those nasty phone calls to my house, even when my parents answered. Your constant name calling, just to be mean, well, all of that left scars. You can’t see them, but you will.”

Mark reached down, a sharp pain across his right arm, and then blood, a rushing of blood through his shirt. He pressed on the wound.

“Yep, you’ll know each scar I carry. So will all of the men in the room who were like you. Of course, some of them might,” he stopped suddenly and motioned across his cheek, “You’re bleeding up here.” He glanced down, a small puddle of red draining over Mark’s shoe. “Wow, that really looks bad.” He smiled at Mark. “The difference in the scars are that my wounds are inside, no actual cut, not actual damage. Your scars,” he shook his head, “sorry to say, will continue to bleed.”

Mark reached for his stomach and moaned. “What are you doing?”

“Getting rid of all the pain that was ever caused by you and everyone like you.” He turned again, caught sight of the disaster that was happening throughout the room. “So many people; it’s a shame you couldn’t have just been nice.”

“Please stop this,” Mark cried.

“I can’t. You brought this on. I just returned it.” He felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked back, it was Dan. “It’s over. All the pain has been given back.”

Dan hugged him. “Do you feel better? Did this help?”

“Yes. I can honestly say this has been the best thing I could have ever done.” He heard Mark drop to his knees. He turned around; his once-best friend was nothing but open wounds that flowed with the darkest red blood. He looked back at Dan, “I can see that there were more than who I thought. I can’t believe how many people were so mean to me. And the strangest part, this is far reaching. This will affect everyone, male and female who hurt me. You know these people would have never believed that what they did as a kid would come back to get them, but it did.”

Dan wiped tears from his eyes. “I’m glad you feel better. You needed this. You deserved this.”

“Thanks Dan,” he took his friend’s hand, “I will be forever thankful you were my friend.” He looked over Dan’s shoulder, “Well, looks like the place is clearing out.”

“Yep, looks that way,” Dan answered looking back into the room. He broke the hand hold and started toward the doorway to leave. “Will this end?”

He looked at Dan, wiped his own tears away, “It will, but not before all of them have suffered.”

“What about Holly and Mark?” Dan questioned.

“They’ll experience a painful death. Something they both deserve. But, they’ll come back, and when they do, they’ll be very different people. They’ll understand. They’ll learn and they’ll tell the world to end bullying once and for all. Everyone in this room who was affected will be my army. They’ll teach everyone why what they did was wrong and why no one should ever do it.”

“And what happens if the world doesn’t listen? What happens if they can’t stop it?” Dan asked.

He smiled, “My gift has been passed on. I’ve given all those kids who have been bullied the same power I have. I didn’t just become a teacher to teach academics, I became a teacher to teach right from wrong.”

Dan’s head lowered, “Normally I would have thought that this type of revenge was wrong, but honestly, I hope it works. I hope the world learns. No one deserves to be tortured each day of their teenage life, and even then into adulthood.”

“It won’t happen overnight. It’s not a magical cure-all, but in time, it will have the desired effect.” He brushed more tears aside. “I wanted them all to die, but I just couldn’t do it. They’ll understand the pain they caused, and now they’ll do something to change the world. Besides, death was the easy way out; at least it would have been for me so many years ago.”

Something a little old, something a little new

2012-06-01T21:16:00.000-04:00

Hope you enjoy the post.

SotF - The Closest Enemy - The Battle for Earth

2012-05-26T09:22:00.003-04:00

Author talking about Survival of the Fittest - The Closest Enemy and when it should be released. Also, a little bit about Survival of the Fittest - The Battle for Earth.

Cover for: SotF - The Closest Enemy

2012-05-18T19:57:00.001-04:00

This will be the cover for Survival of the Fittest - The Closest Enemy. The artwork was done by Greg Trax, an art teacher at the middle school where I work. If you're interested in having some original artwork done for your cover, let me know and I will get you in touch with Greg. He's a GREAT guy and VERY talented.

SotF - The Closest Enemy - Sent in for publishing

2012-05-17T22:52:00.001-04:00

Possible dialogue? Humor? Silly?

2012-05-07T22:20:00.002-04:00

I thought these were some funny things I've heard. You can decide for yourself. You might think, "this guy has the lamest sense of humor in the world!"

Me reading from Survival of the Fittest

2012-05-07T18:52:00.000-04:00

Reading a portion of Survival of the Fittest - The Last Hope for the Human Race

Book Chat - Survival of the Fittest - The Last Hope for the Human Race

2012-05-05T23:03:00.000-04:00

Some info about the first book and the second and third books. I hope you enjoy. Any questions? Write them and I will respond. Let's make the questions about the books please.

Excited?

2012-05-04T18:09:00.001-04:00

I've been waiting for this. The price of my book, Survival of the Fittest, The Last Hope for the Human Race is now ONLY $1.99 on Kindle.

Head on over to http://www.amazon.com/Survival-Fittest-Last-Human-ebook/dp/B0065BL4LM/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&qid=1336169275&sr=8-9

and get your copy of my debut young adult book. The first in the Survival of the Fittest series. The second book, Survival of the Fittest - The Closest Enemy is in its final stages of editing. I know once you read the first book, you'll be hooked.

3 More Authors Worth Checking Out

2012-04-27T15:44:00.001-04:00

Books by George Geisinger:

Sorting out one's thoughts in a day of extreme mental confusion. This short story covers the history of man who had to fight his fight against, drug abuse, brain chemistry issues along with coming of age in the era of Woodstock. Poignant and concise reporting about surviving personal turmoil and being brave enough to record its effects on his soul. The man has taken away something meaningful about the sixties as he still has a spirit of giving. I would also read his other works as guide for showing how it is necessary for the careful watch on one's rebellious teenager and the effects of drugs.

http://www.amazon.com/Scatter-Brains-ebook/dp/B0075ZU1B6/ref=pd_sim_sbs_kstore_5?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2

Books by Elena DeRosa:

Marie's peaceful life in Virginia is shattered the moment she receives word from her brother: “I just got a call from a detective. Daddy’s dead.” Rushing to her family home in Brooklyn, New York, Marie seeks answers to her father’s mysterious death only to discover disturbing occurrences and encounter acts of betrayal.

After her questions are amplified and suspicions confirmed surrounding her father’s ex-girlfriend, Marie becomes frustrated by how oblivious so many had been, and continue to be, to the wily con-artist.

Inheriting her father’s scheming ex-girlfriend becomes a journey Marie never imagined she’d be forced to travel.

Written as memoir, “Fractured Facade” is a cautionary tale for anyone concerned about a parent after the loss of their spouse. The survivor, often thrust into an unfamiliar world, finds it quite different from the dating scene of their youth; one where some create facades to mask their true intentions. Sadly, loneliness can cause an otherwise intelligent person to behave foolishly.

“Fractured Facade” is the tale of a father’s death, a daughter’s life, and a sociopath’s vendetta.

http://www.amazon.com/Fractured-Facade-ebook/dp/B005RFUU2Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335391838&sr=1-1

Books by Rick Carufel:

While performing research for a master's thesis at Brown University, Brian Metcalf finds more than darkness behind closed eyelids. Astral realms intent upon unleashing unspeakable evil attempt to use him as a pawn in their struggle to open a portal to this world. It's happened before to others. Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, "If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you. Whoever battles monsters had better see that it does not turn him into a monster." Novella 18049 words

http://www.amazon.com/Phospheindz-ebook/dp/B005A7ABOS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335391985&sr=1-1

Editing my second book in the SOTF series - The Closest Enemy

2012-04-26T22:01:00.001-04:00

I've started editing the second in the SOTF series, and I'm quite pleased with what I'm reading. Of course there are over 3million typos, the story tends to stray, the characters are not consistent, and a few times I've shifted dialogue so fast I don't even know who's saying what...but other than that, I really did a good job. LOL

At least I laugh and don't break into sobbing.

3 More Authors Worth Reading

2012-04-22T18:29:00.000-04:00

Books by Janet Morris:

The Sacred Band of Thebes lives on, a world away, in this mythic novel of love in war in ancient times. In 338 BCE, during the Battle of Chaeronea that results in the massacre of the Sacred Band of Thebes, the legendary Tempus and his Stepson cavalry rescue twenty-three pairs of Theban Sacred Banders, paired lovers and friends, to fight on other days. These forty-six Thebans, whose bones will never lie in the mass grave that holds their two hundred and fifty-four brothers, join with the immortalized Tempus and his Sacred Band of Stepsons, consummate ancient cavalry fighters, to make new lives in a faraway land and fight the battle of their dreams where gods walk the earth, ghosts take the field, and the angry Fates demand their due.

http://www.amazon.com/The-Sacred-Band-Janet-Morris/dp/1937035034/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_8

Books by Paul D. Brazill:

English writer Paul D Brazill's 13 Shots Of Noir is a collection of flash fiction and short stories in the vein of Roald Dahl, The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents.The first story, "The Tut", was nominated for a 2010 Spinetingler Award, while the story "Anger Management" was chosen as one of the Predators and Editors top twenty crime stories.Crime, horror and dark fiction are contained within the pages of 13 Shots Of Noir.

http://www.amazon.com/13-Shots-of-Noir-ebook/dp/B006AG3H6M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335133181&sr=8-1

Books by Gladys Quintal:

Alexi is a Vampire trying to live a human existence, he even has a human wife. The Vampire secret is paramount and cohabiting with humans - unless you intend on turning them, just isn't done. Can Alexi protect his beloved Cassandra from the would-be enforcers of this law or will he lose her forever?

http://www.amazon.com/Careful-What-Dream-Series-ebook/dp/B0071IJ9NS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335133417&sr=8-1

Dark Place Entry 2

2012-04-22T16:27:00.000-04:00

Having a great amount of emotion can really help a writer. It allows us to give our characters personalities. We understand being cold, bitter, angry, loving, happy, thoughtful, provocative, etc., but there’s a feeling that I always think I have more than anyone else, sadness.

I don’t know what it is about weekends, but they are not good for me. I try to do everything to keep myself busy, to keep my mind from wandering back over the depressing thoughts. Nothing works.

Ok, so I’m seeing a doctor, a therapist, I’m seeking advice from people I know, I’m trying everything I can to change this ache inside. I’m alone, all alone, no matter what people say, or think, I’m alone. I don’t have people calling or texting; I don’t have people asking how I feel, or what’s wrong. Just one person asks those questions, me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I’m an emotional person. I’m glad I have feelings and that I actually do care about people, including people I don’t even know and haven’t even met. I just wish the depression wasn’t a part of me. It’s becoming a burden to have to carry with me each day. Honestly, it’s a heavy weight.

I haven’t left my house since December. Oh, I go to work, but basically, nowhere else. And if I do go somewhere, it takes a lot of strength. And as I said earlier, I am trying to get help. I just hope someone out there will know how to help someone like me who is so far gone. I’m a recluse. I’m scared.

Whenever you see me online, just know that I’m trying to push the darkness behind me. Even communication with people across the internet is good for me, good for my mental health. I just wish I had a friend who could be here with me. I wish I had someone to share things with, to laugh with, to go to dinner with, to just take a ride in the car.

Tomorrow will give me a little more relief. It’s Monday, I’ll go back to work. I’ll be around people. And for five days I’ll be able to wear the face I’m supposed to. But the one thing I should be looking forward to, the weekend, is my nightmare. That’s when I go back to being alone.

4 More Authors Worth Your Time

2012-04-22T01:10:00.005-04:00

Books by Graham Smith:

11 Hard boiled stories of murder, misconception and mayhem. Nothing ends as expected. Everything can change in an instant. Tense, thrilling and funny. You’ll be cheering on, laughing at and crying for the characters.

Take a walk in the woods with Annie as a camping trip goes horribly wrong, slug some bourbon in Bobby’s Bar with gumshoe Leonard Peters or join Nicholas and Christine as their honeymoon trip takes a frightening turn.

Attend a night class with the girl who fears a stalker, escape killers with Jason and his sons, join Cook & Barnes as they hunt a twisted killer, look through a telescopic sight with an assassin and recoil in horror as terrorists attack.

Why has Garry been stood up at the altar? What happens to Susie? All the answers you need are in 11 The Hard Way.

http://www.amazon.com/Eleven-The-Hardest-Way-ebook/dp/B00771BMJ8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335070119&sr=8-1

Books by Steven Nedelton:

"As the world goes to hell, it proves very difficult not to go with them."Fear!"is a novel from Steven Nedelton who tells of a future where mankind is falling apart and oppression is the name of the day. One family tries to hang onto their humanity, as Nedelton tells their endeavor to stay together and stay united in a miserable world. "Fear!" is novel of a potential terrifying future, well worth considering."

http://www.amazon.com/FEAR-ebook/dp/B004U6LT6E/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1335070361&sr=8-8

Books by Lily Childs:

A terrifying collection of short horror stories by dark fiction author Lily Childs. These forty-three offerings comprise eleven long tales, including the previously unpublished:

- SMILING CYRUS - dancing dolls of death in your attic

- IN ADORATION - demonic rebirth, revenge and new skin

- STARING AT THE PINK - when the dead don't let go

Studded and stitched together by shorter pieces and tiny 100-word drabbles this first volume of Cabaret of Dread ends with:

- THE INFANTA TRIPTYCH - living, dying art - breathing, pulsing... ancient.

"Extreme vampire horror."

Words spill from the babbling mouths of demons and murderers throughout Cabaret of Dread, combining fear and even humour as the reader encounters serial killers and ghosts, historical entities and psychopaths, not to mention a scuttling vampire or two.

Cabaret of Dread is extreme horror FOR ADULTS ONLY. Ethereal and spiritual elements battle with the visceral and the insane; lustful adoration dallies with laboured, lingering death. The Cabaret will shock, it may well offend. But it is beautiful – at least in the author’s mind - and that’s where the darkness lies.

http://www.amazon.com/Cabaret-Dread-Horror-Compendium-ebook/dp/B007KSVXQK/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335070816&sr=1-1

Books by Fiona Johnson:

Crime doesn't just happen in the city and after being violently attacked and tied up, Gordon Campbell's peaceful existence delivering fish to his customers in a picturesque Argyll village is about to change forever.

Crime noir mixed with a generous slosh of Scottish humour.

http://www.amazon.com/The-Wrong-Delivery-Corrins-ebook/dp/B0075YHO3A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335071241&sr=8-1

One More Time: Featuring 4 More Authors Worth Reading

2012-04-21T12:35:00.003-04:00

Stuart Ayris books:

"A strange, magical book - a work of pure genius - flawless perfection..."

- just some of the things reviewers are saying about the 74,000 word novel that is Tollesbury Time Forever.

Tollesbury Time

Nothing is real

And there's nothing

To get hung about

sing the children...

In September 2008 I accompanied the police as they entered a house in Tollesbury. I was a psychiatric nurse at the time. The owner of the house was one of my patients. He had not been seen for two weeks - neither had his wife or his son.

What I saw that evening will stay with me forever. On the walls of the lounge, in tiny, neat black writing, were thousands and thousands of words. The torch beams picked them out as if they were groups of well-ordered flies. The words continued up the stairway, onto the landing walls and into the main bedroom. I had been in the house before and had seen some of the writing upstairs. Still I was mesmerised.

What you are about to read are the words that I saw on those walls. I have ordered them into chapters and taken the liberty of providing chapter headings. I have inserted two documents midway through which I trust will make sense when you come to them.

I have since resigned my post as a community mental health nurse and no longer work in psychiatry. The patient of whom I speak is called Simon Anthony. I have met him only once - yet he is, and will always remain, my hero.

Tollesbury Time

Nothing is real

And there's nothing

To get hung about...

sing the children...

http://www.amazon.com/Tollesbury-Time-Forever-ebook/dp/B006TJDJKE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335025429&sr=8-1

"A breathless literary experience...", "An unforgettable book...", "One of the most powerful books I have ever read..."

are just some of the things reviewers have been saying about the 74,000 word novel that is A Cleansing of Souls.

Michael Parrish woke up in bed with his sister, Jennifer. He was seventeen years old. She was fourteen and dead. There was a smell of dread in the air.

What do you honestly do at times like this?

What do you honestly do?

Well, Michael, he just grinned. And he kept on grinning. They took him away to the psychiatric hospital up on the hill. He was there for twenty-eight days; time enough, they thought, to get inside his head, his mind and his soul. But a thousand years would not have been enough - not for Michael Parrish.

So they let him go. And he floats and he floats.

The world is real and it is not real. It moves and it shifts and it envelopes us. What you see is not what I see. And that is the wonder of this life.

But time catches up with us all...

http://www.amazon.com/A-Cleansing-of-Souls-ebook/dp/B0078MLK6Q/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335025535&sr=1-2

Laxmi Hariharan books:

Amazon US epic fantasy, kindle best-seller, "The Destiny of Shaitan is mind blowing, dark, humourous, and clever. It took me on a powerful journey inwards, which was a surprise as I'm not generally drawn to scifi or fantasy. I love the scene where the planet is covered with water and Yudi rescues Tiina. It's core message is Unity. I believe it will appeal to people across all ages." Sonia Ducie Dip.CSN.AIN, Numerologist, Author 11 Numerology books.

When Yudi, Tiina & Rai embark on a mission to save the universe, they come up against the ruthless Shaitan who is determined to stop them at any cost. But they soon realise they have a bigger enemy - themselves. So they must learn to trust each other and overcome their fears as they fight their way towards the ultimate showdown.

Partially set in a futuristic Bombay, The Destiny of Shaitan is a coming of age story, painted against the backdrop of a post-apocalyptic world.

Yudi, Tiina and Rai are destined to come together, for they are the Chosen Ones. It falls to them to save the universe from the powerful Shaitan, who is terrifying, and utterly merciless. Driven by greed, and fear for his own survival, Shaitan bulldozes his way through the galaxy, destroying anything that gets in his path, including his lovers and his own children. The battle between the Chosen Ones and Shaitan is a classic, epic encounter. Hated and feared by all, Shaitan must win this fight to keep his power. The stakes are high, the combatants are determined, and no matter what the outcome their lives will be changed for all time.

http://www.amazon.com/The-Destiny-of-Shaitan-ebook/dp/B007M2IBH8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335025663&sr=1-1

G.D. Steel books:

Julianna Hastings had to put her grief for her father and stepmother on hold when she assumed custody of her younger siblings. When she loses them in a custody hearing, she is overwhelmed by grief and unable to cope.

Jeremy Davies runs a successful business. While looking for his next Executive Secretary, he is pulled into the fun and loving Hastings family circle. When Julianna falls apart, Jeremy wants to be the one to help put Julianna and her family back together.

Another watches and wants all that Jeremy has, including Julianna. Will he tear their new family apart?

http://www.amazon.com/Jersey-Daze-Holiday-Romance-ebook/dp/B006EQW11U/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335025763&sr=1-1

K.T. Banks books:

Action and Adventure with so many twists and turns you'll need to buckle up for a Thrill ride. Nico is back and so is Luke and many of the characters you loved so much from STAND AND PROTECT.

Nico's sister Toni is missing from New Orleans, so he teams up with his former partner from the DPD, Luke Manning. They have to take on Russian Mobsters. When Luke's sister Rachel tries to get involved, she gets kidnapped, so it turns out they must find both of young women. Car chases, explosions and fights break out all over New Orleans, with a mysterious woman named Dominique lending her own form of Voo-Doo magic to help.

The Mobster Boss is psychopath and no one is safe around him. He rules an army of men through fear and money. He owns strip clubs around the City and is also involved in human slavery.

Will Toni and Rachel be able to save themselves, or will it take the men to save them this time? These girls end up armed and dangerous too.

http://www.amazon.com/NICOS-GUILT-STAND-PROTECT-ebook/dp/B004MDLQ4K/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335025884&sr=1-1