Alright folks. Two new books are now up on Kindle, but not KDP. They are books of shorts, Half Flashed is longer and lighter, all the dark stuff and things with social and political commentary is in Too Dark for Television. These are mostly flash fiction and short stories but each has some novellas too.
These are lower priced than Old Odd Ends and a bit of an experiment for me. The on Kindle is because Amazon is faster than everyone else. Createspace (for the physical copies) is processing and should be up shortly. They are also processing to be available on Kobo, Google Play and Google Books, and the Nook For my friends who only use Apple books, how are we still friends? Seriously, I would put them up there too but they require a publisher or a third party that acts like a publisher with none of the benefits so, no thanks and sorry.
If the shorts get more sales due to the added distribution channels I will be removing Old Odd Ends from its exclusivity in a few months and putting it up in all other methods and then switch to that as my standard. So, if you love KDP go buy Ends on Amazon and pick up the new books too. If you prefer another reader wait a day or two and buy it on Kobo/Nook/Google. One or all three, I prefer all three.
If you want to give Amazon and unfair advantage, I have you covered there too. Old Odd Ends is available on a free promotion from 8/21 through 8/25 as a way of saying thank you. Of course, if you want to thank me for thanking you, you can pick up the new books at the same time. Have a great day!
#author #novel #shamelessselfpromotion #shortstories #thoughts #writer #writing
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
In the Beginning - Counter Offer
So, this is part 21.
Jack was settling in to being a cop again. Despite his foray into murder, being part of the thin blue line ran in his blood. Some things just needed to be done outside of the brotherhood. The preacher had been one of those, crossing into that category with his own murder. When your dog is rabid you put it down yourself, Jack’s father taught him that.
Paperwork was part of the routine, not Jack’s favorite part. Some of the other detectives thrived on it but Jack needed two cups of coffee to get through his. He was on his way to get that all-important second cup when he looked out the window and blinked.
Across the street stood Nicole, Jack would recognize the psycho bitch anywhere. Her presence was not the real shock though. That she stood on the street to the side of his precinct in her bra and panties was. Jack was not attracted but he could appreciate, ascetically, why a few men seemed willing to do her bidding to their detriment.
The sign she held was stranger still. In big bold letters it called him out. ‘Don’t like what you see? Call…’ there was a number, one Jack assumed was to the cell phone taped to the cardboard. It was a threat. Even in this day and age he worked in a profession where gay men were accepted, so long as they were part of them and not us. He calmly gathered his coffee and called from his own cell.
“First, let me apologize for what happened to your boyfriend.” Nicole launched in as soon as she answered the phone, in lieu of saying hello. “That was my father, not me.”
“I thought you were daddy’s little girl.” Jack whisper-growled, his eyes sliding closed to keep the tears that sprung up inside. “I thought you agreed with everything he said and did.”
“Not that. Your lover was not a part of this.”
“What do you want?”
“A simple meeting.”
“Just come by your house, meet the husband and the kids. Sounds like fun. Do you really think seeing your domestic bliss, the girls you have chained up in the basement and your cute kids will make me jump sides?”
“I think it couldn’t hurt. Besides, you know the girls aren’t chained up.”
“Not all chains are physical.”
He let the silence spin out and so did she. They played the game of metaphysical, emotional chicken like two stars of the game. Nicole was good, but Jack was better. She finally broke the quiet as he heard her start a car.
“You are more open minded than you are pretending. I assure your safety so long as you start nothing and leave in peace when it is done. We can work together or continue fighting at your preference then. Seven tonight?”
“Fine.”
Jack should have thought to tell father O’Reilly about the meeting. So the father had some idea of why the detective fell silent after it. But he didn’t.
#shortstory #novel #author #writer #writing
Jack was settling in to being a cop again. Despite his foray into murder, being part of the thin blue line ran in his blood. Some things just needed to be done outside of the brotherhood. The preacher had been one of those, crossing into that category with his own murder. When your dog is rabid you put it down yourself, Jack’s father taught him that.
Paperwork was part of the routine, not Jack’s favorite part. Some of the other detectives thrived on it but Jack needed two cups of coffee to get through his. He was on his way to get that all-important second cup when he looked out the window and blinked.
Across the street stood Nicole, Jack would recognize the psycho bitch anywhere. Her presence was not the real shock though. That she stood on the street to the side of his precinct in her bra and panties was. Jack was not attracted but he could appreciate, ascetically, why a few men seemed willing to do her bidding to their detriment.
The sign she held was stranger still. In big bold letters it called him out. ‘Don’t like what you see? Call…’ there was a number, one Jack assumed was to the cell phone taped to the cardboard. It was a threat. Even in this day and age he worked in a profession where gay men were accepted, so long as they were part of them and not us. He calmly gathered his coffee and called from his own cell.
“First, let me apologize for what happened to your boyfriend.” Nicole launched in as soon as she answered the phone, in lieu of saying hello. “That was my father, not me.”
“I thought you were daddy’s little girl.” Jack whisper-growled, his eyes sliding closed to keep the tears that sprung up inside. “I thought you agreed with everything he said and did.”
“Not that. Your lover was not a part of this.”
“What do you want?”
“A simple meeting.”
“Just come by your house, meet the husband and the kids. Sounds like fun. Do you really think seeing your domestic bliss, the girls you have chained up in the basement and your cute kids will make me jump sides?”
“I think it couldn’t hurt. Besides, you know the girls aren’t chained up.”
“Not all chains are physical.”
He let the silence spin out and so did she. They played the game of metaphysical, emotional chicken like two stars of the game. Nicole was good, but Jack was better. She finally broke the quiet as he heard her start a car.
“You are more open minded than you are pretending. I assure your safety so long as you start nothing and leave in peace when it is done. We can work together or continue fighting at your preference then. Seven tonight?”
“Fine.”
Jack should have thought to tell father O’Reilly about the meeting. So the father had some idea of why the detective fell silent after it. But he didn’t.
#shortstory #novel #author #writer #writing
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Check Out Margaret Daly
Check out Margaret Daly. An awesome person, a fellow author and #Awethor. Links to her site are listed below and I will shortly be listing one of them in the links at the right of the page. Check out her blog for inspiration on both life and writing.
What's more? She has links where you can buy many fine books, mine included. These are physical copy books so you have to be old school or hard core, like me, to purchase from this site. Go, check it out, spread the love. Buy some of her books for yourself and do your Christmas shopping very early this year. Do it now!
Margaret's Website and Book Store - http://dusgadh.weebly.com/store/c1/Featured_Products.html
Margaret's Book Blog - http://dusgadh.weebly.com/my-book-blog
Margaret's Blog - http://dusgadh.weebly.com/just-a-blog
#authors #writers #thoughts #novel #shamelessselfpromotion
What's more? She has links where you can buy many fine books, mine included. These are physical copy books so you have to be old school or hard core, like me, to purchase from this site. Go, check it out, spread the love. Buy some of her books for yourself and do your Christmas shopping very early this year. Do it now!
Margaret's Website and Book Store - http://dusgadh.weebly.com/store/c1/Featured_Products.html
Margaret's Book Blog - http://dusgadh.weebly.com/my-book-blog
Margaret's Blog - http://dusgadh.weebly.com/just-a-blog
#authors #writers #thoughts #novel #shamelessselfpromotion
Saturday, August 15, 2015
#Awethors Awareness Day
If you are here please do a search on twitter and/or facebook for #Awethors then follow the people posting it. When you find a link to a book buy it and leave a five star review. Because I said so!
This is a really amazing group of people, all independent authors, and awesome ones at that. If you can't find a book or genre you love amidst us then you are dead inside and the bad guys have already won! If you're not up for buying a book then just send a shout out on twitter or Facebook with the hashtag #Awethors. You are more than welcome to mention me, and my blog and how all around cool I am. Trust me, I won't mind.
Please help us to get this trending! If you are an author and on Facebook then you might consider asking to join the group. If you're an independent, though I would also argue for you with the group owner if you're Stephen King, George RR Martin, or Jim Butcher because you're that cool. Though if you're one of those three and you read my blog why haven't you read and reviewed my book yet? Okay, I'm getting seriously loopy and need sleep.
Again, please help out and get #Awethors trending. This is a group of people who work very hard and do excellent work. If authors going a different route continue to toil in anonymity they may be forced to get day jobs. It's possible they will decide they want yours. Your boss will like them better because I will write it that way. This is bad for everyone! I don't normally soapbox for other people, so you know these guys have impressed me greatly. Thanks for your help.
#shamelessselfpromotion
This is a really amazing group of people, all independent authors, and awesome ones at that. If you can't find a book or genre you love amidst us then you are dead inside and the bad guys have already won! If you're not up for buying a book then just send a shout out on twitter or Facebook with the hashtag #Awethors. You are more than welcome to mention me, and my blog and how all around cool I am. Trust me, I won't mind.
Please help us to get this trending! If you are an author and on Facebook then you might consider asking to join the group. If you're an independent, though I would also argue for you with the group owner if you're Stephen King, George RR Martin, or Jim Butcher because you're that cool. Though if you're one of those three and you read my blog why haven't you read and reviewed my book yet? Okay, I'm getting seriously loopy and need sleep.
Again, please help out and get #Awethors trending. This is a group of people who work very hard and do excellent work. If authors going a different route continue to toil in anonymity they may be forced to get day jobs. It's possible they will decide they want yours. Your boss will like them better because I will write it that way. This is bad for everyone! I don't normally soapbox for other people, so you know these guys have impressed me greatly. Thanks for your help.
#shamelessselfpromotion
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
And a Win
Oh, and on the prompt contest that I mentioned a couple weeks back. I won my second time in. Go check it out, and check out the author lady. She is pretty awesome. If you are a writer you should be entering her contests here.
http://tipsylit.com/2015/08/10/thirteen-stepping/
#author #shamelessselfpromotion
http://tipsylit.com/2015/08/10/thirteen-stepping/
#author #shamelessselfpromotion
In the Beginning - The Fifth Sign
So, remember when I mentioned that these were following a prompt? Yeah, this one is short because the prompt was a poem, but I added a bit of story to the end anyway. This is part 20.
Daughter, son and grandfather’s ghost
Making of a paper host
Woman’s orange of gain
Boy’s green of pain
Beige suits of prophet never seen again
The ally turned ron, towards the bullish end
On secrets in kangaroo pouch of his mind we depend
Without coffee God waits in the slumberless deep
Director ready to wrap when play we for keep
The future, mental yogurt, healthy but stings deep
Mother, savior, computer of death
Interpreting the book unto her last breath
Father laments nicety, like a tuxedo put away
No staple but kindness brought out on special day
Crunch, is the last word, the earth has its say
Chester looked at the poem written on his daughter’s wall and wondered where she got the crayons. He also wondered at some of the words that she could not yet speak. This was probably another one of those signs the detective and the priest wanted to stop.
Nicole’s reaction was much simpler. She grabbed a pad and copied the newest addition to the prophecy down. Then she started to interpret.
Daughter, son and grandfather’s ghost
Making of a paper host
Woman’s orange of gain
Boy’s green of pain
Beige suits of prophet never seen again
The ally turned ron, towards the bullish end
On secrets in kangaroo pouch of his mind we depend
Without coffee God waits in the slumberless deep
Director ready to wrap when play we for keep
The future, mental yogurt, healthy but stings deep
Mother, savior, computer of death
Interpreting the book unto her last breath
Father laments nicety, like a tuxedo put away
No staple but kindness brought out on special day
Crunch, is the last word, the earth has its say
Chester looked at the poem written on his daughter’s wall and wondered where she got the crayons. He also wondered at some of the words that she could not yet speak. This was probably another one of those signs the detective and the priest wanted to stop.
Nicole’s reaction was much simpler. She grabbed a pad and copied the newest addition to the prophecy down. Then she started to interpret.
#shortstory #novel #author #writer #writing
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
In the Beginning - The Fourth Sign
And this is installment 19.
Even in his new surroundings Peter could not resist a drink. When the unimportant cellmate offered him a sip, Peter took a guzzle. When he awoke in a nightmare land of cartoons he knew the shine was on the jug. Feeling an urge to hunt a rabbit, he also knew it must be Easter. Wasn’t he supposed to do something on Easter this year?
Peter could not remember what his task was. The urge to hunt down the rabbit, the one that taunted while munching carrots and sometimes turned invisible, was all consuming. Though… his mind might be combining fantasy bunnies. That wasn’t important. He needed to kill the varmint. Something important depended on it.
Peter did not have a gun, but he found a hammer and some spikes. Not ideal, but better than nothing. He set out on the hunt, determined to take the rascal by hand. That would feel pretty good actually. It would feel… biblical.
He traipsed through the woods, whistling a jaunty tune. He almost skipped and felt like he was going in circles. Some small, rational part of his mind knew he was, around his sell. That part of his mind was lost behind the veil of inebriation though.
Finally, Peter saw the critter. He crouched, a sick smile sliding over his lips. He crept forward but knew the creature saw him. It did not chew his carrot and give some smart aleck response though. Instead, it threw Peter a look. It looked, terrified. That was new, Peter thought. Perhaps word of his association with the divine was spreading. It might explain the change. No time to wonder about that though.
It was much simpler than Peter anticipated. He pounced on the rabbit, pinning it to the wall. Mighty strikes of the mallet drove the spikes home. It squealed and begged for its life. It promised to convert and spread the word. Peter was beyond reason though. The task was more important than any one thing.
After nine months in prison most of the inmates found themselves swayed by Peter’s words. There were so many converts to the men’s army that the repercussions of Peter making his unimportant cellmate into an important figure were of greater benefit than keeping him in the cell.
Peter did not feel bad about crucifying the man on the wall of the cell they shared. Sacrifice was necessary. Besides, with that loss of one human, Peter’s ten to twenty stretch became a life sentence. Due to the manner of it and the fact that he really thought he killed a rabbit, for a long time anyway, he was transferred to a high security mental facility. There were more men to convert at the hospital and they were easier to sway. Their minds were already open to things that most could not comprehend. Besides…
With the change in venue, sometimes Nicole could come and visit him. She was proud of him. She told him so often.
Even in his new surroundings Peter could not resist a drink. When the unimportant cellmate offered him a sip, Peter took a guzzle. When he awoke in a nightmare land of cartoons he knew the shine was on the jug. Feeling an urge to hunt a rabbit, he also knew it must be Easter. Wasn’t he supposed to do something on Easter this year?
Peter could not remember what his task was. The urge to hunt down the rabbit, the one that taunted while munching carrots and sometimes turned invisible, was all consuming. Though… his mind might be combining fantasy bunnies. That wasn’t important. He needed to kill the varmint. Something important depended on it.
Peter did not have a gun, but he found a hammer and some spikes. Not ideal, but better than nothing. He set out on the hunt, determined to take the rascal by hand. That would feel pretty good actually. It would feel… biblical.
He traipsed through the woods, whistling a jaunty tune. He almost skipped and felt like he was going in circles. Some small, rational part of his mind knew he was, around his sell. That part of his mind was lost behind the veil of inebriation though.
Finally, Peter saw the critter. He crouched, a sick smile sliding over his lips. He crept forward but knew the creature saw him. It did not chew his carrot and give some smart aleck response though. Instead, it threw Peter a look. It looked, terrified. That was new, Peter thought. Perhaps word of his association with the divine was spreading. It might explain the change. No time to wonder about that though.
It was much simpler than Peter anticipated. He pounced on the rabbit, pinning it to the wall. Mighty strikes of the mallet drove the spikes home. It squealed and begged for its life. It promised to convert and spread the word. Peter was beyond reason though. The task was more important than any one thing.
After nine months in prison most of the inmates found themselves swayed by Peter’s words. There were so many converts to the men’s army that the repercussions of Peter making his unimportant cellmate into an important figure were of greater benefit than keeping him in the cell.
Peter did not feel bad about crucifying the man on the wall of the cell they shared. Sacrifice was necessary. Besides, with that loss of one human, Peter’s ten to twenty stretch became a life sentence. Due to the manner of it and the fact that he really thought he killed a rabbit, for a long time anyway, he was transferred to a high security mental facility. There were more men to convert at the hospital and they were easier to sway. Their minds were already open to things that most could not comprehend. Besides…
With the change in venue, sometimes Nicole could come and visit him. She was proud of him. She told him so often.
#shortstory #novel #author #writer #writing
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