Sunday Story Trilogy-#2- Easter Surprises-Violence caution

For the holiday, many people do romance or family bonding type stories. I thought I’d swing far right of that and give you something horrible and poetically wrong, yet perfectly right.

Warning: There is violence in this story. There is also a child in this story. You do the math.

 

Easter Surprises

"Slap!"

The girl's tears were silent as she cowered on the carpet of the living room, wincing at every word shouted inches from her terrified face.

"I'm up now! Get your damned basket!"

The 7 year old scrambled back, avoiding the sweeping hand but not the foot and it caught her in the hip, bringing a dull flare of pain.

"Worthless kid!"

Out in the cool air, the girl lingered outside by the meager Easter Basket, candy untouched, tears dried to her red cheeks. She could still hear her mother's loud voice inside, complaining about being woken up early, and the neighbor's were staring openly through their trailer window, but Madeline knew better than to think they might help her. Other kids in the park had the same life and while everyone whispered, no one helped. They had no one to stand for them.

"You do now."

The little girl looked around with startled eyes, only to find a snow bound trailer park.

"Maddie."

Right by her feet now, she looked down to see a large rabbit. Longer than her foot, taller than the old tom her mom threw rocks at, the bunny was big and dark gray, with large black eyes.

"Hello."

The child blinked. Its mouth had moved!

"You talk!"

The rabbit nodded, pointed a paw under the skirt-less mobile home.

"Come with me. I can help you and your friends."

The animal hopped casually out of her sight. "Come on, Maddie. Let's play a game called teach the grownups to be nicer."

Torn, the little girl went slowly and when the neighbors saw her disappear behind the concrete supports under the trailer, they closed their curtains, thinking she was smart to give her mom time to cool off. The untouched basket of Easter candy didn't raise any alarm.

It did with her mom hours later, but not the worry kind that makes you think something bad may have happened, but the annoyed kind that said someone wasn't where they were supposed to be. When she began screaming the girl’s name, the neighbors thought of telling her where the child was but didn't. It sounded like she hadn't cooled off very much.

"Madeline!"

The little girl didn't answer and her red face was tight with concentration.

"Just blow and think. That's it."

The rabbit handed her a small pouch and the girl quickly grabbed a fist of the gold and black powder.

"Madeline! So help me girl!"

The Mother was close and the rabbit laid a comforting paw on her foot when she trembled.

"Do this Maddie, and she'll never hurt you again. I promise."

The girl nodded, eyes clenched shut and when she blew the dust into the cold air, it sparked, flashing into a ball of brilliant flames that covered the child from head to foot. A second later, the grinning rabbit was gone and the girl was being roughly yanked from an under the trailer.

"Damn kid! Didn’t you hear me yelling?"

The woman shook the girl wildly but her motions slowed as she got a look at her daughter’s face.

The child smiled, pretty blue eyes turning red, teeth growing, becoming hungry fangs.

"I hear you now, Momma!" 

The child's attack was merciless, her long claws ripping into warm flesh and as the body fell, the neighbor's curtains swung shut and the girl headed casually toward her best friend’s home.

Mandy's dad liked to hug her and touch her a lot. It was time he learned to keep his hands to himself. Then, she'd show Mandy the dust and they would go to Jacob. When there were enough of them, they would take care of the other evil-doers, the ones who watched but didn't help. Their turn was coming.

This Doesn’t HappenIn The Movies

by Renee Pawlish

(Renee has been a guest on C9 Virtual Tours)

“I want you to find my dead husband.”

“Excuse me?”

That was my first reaction.

“I want you to find my husband. He’s dead, and I need to know where he is.” She spoke in a voice one sexy note below middle C.

“Uh-huh.” That was my second reaction. Really slick.

Moments before, when I saw her standing in the outer room, waiting to come into my office, I had the feeling she’d be trouble. And now, with that intro, I knew it.

“He’s dead, and I need you to find him.”

If she wasn’t tired of the repetition, I was, but I couldn’t seem to get my mouth working. She sat in the cushy black leather chair on the other side of my desk, exhaling money with every sultry breath. She had beautiful blond hair with just a hint of darker color at the roots, blue eyes like a cold mountain lake, and a smile that would slay Adonis. I’d like to say that a beautiful woman couldn’t influence me by her beauty alone. I’d like to say it, but I can’t.

This Doesn’t Happen in the Movies

 

Mementoes of Mai by Helmy kusuma
Non-Fiction

(Helmy has also been a guest of C9 VT)

A mundane office life is suddenly changed into something entirely different in a flick of a hand. Helmy's visit to Viet Nam made him face the beauties he long forgot, and now he must make up his mind to pursue the love of his life...

Would he be able to reconcile his past and his present to step into the unknown territory of the probable future? Could he bridge the space between himself and his love?

Follow Helmy as he recounts the defining and beautiful moment in his life, through the river and the cove of Viet Nam, across the sea to Bali, and Jakarta.

Fictitiously, of course.

Mementoes of Mai

You guys have a safe Sunday.

Next Week: Invasion

"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?

Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors

*Free on all retailers

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Justice (Story Sunday)

Dedicated to all the animals suffering from mankind's indifference.

 "How much?"

"Almost 60,000 barrels a day."
"Worst in history."
"Won't matter. It's what insurance is for."
"It's what we're for."

 The voices carried easily in gusting shore winds and those listening unseen, felt the hate grow deeper in their hearts.

 
"We report it's not that bad, that it's breaking up, people start to relax. Stocks go back up."
"And then its business as usual, right?"
"Yep. Ain't nothing money won't buy."

Their snickers and indifference marked them as the enemy, even if the yellow vests and clipboards had not, and the investigators moved toward the narrow sea cave like foreign invaders surveying their loot.

"How much you think the insurance will cover?"

"Most. It's cheaper to pay premiums than to develop the technology to handle spills. British Petroleum is paid up for the next decade."
"Wish they'd pay those coastal fishermen so the reports would stop winding people back up."
"Me too."

The oil inspectors reached the cave as the next swell rushed in and their boots were covered in a thick layer of rainbow sludge.

"It's still coming in."

"It will for a long time. Remember to wipe those off before you head back."
"You too."
"Yeah. Don't want any proof it's gotten this far yet."

The men moved into the dim, sludge lined cave with uneasy glances and the sound of the water rushing in grew louder, hungry. They began to measure and collect samples and neither of them noticed the shadows getting closer as they talked.

"Guess the new cap’s holding."
"Pictures look good. You think they're real?"
"I doubt it. The government only shows people what it wants them to see. Once we say it's staying out there, the news will grow bored with it and find another story."
"Hard to hide all those bodies, though."
"It's just fish. The birds'll clean it up."
"But won't it be another big story?"
"No. In case you haven't noticed, there's no one on these beaches now. Tourism here is gone for a long time."
"Still, the residents have taken pictures and the camera crews fly over all the time."
"Won't matter. Money shuts people up. Just have to find the right price."
"Can't argue with that."

Between tides, the rising water levels in the narrow cave were unusual but the inspectors were trained in oil, not the ocean and the tugging, rainbow sludge was up to their knees before either of them noticed.

"Water's up. Let's hurry."
"Wonder if that has anything to do with the methane. Put it in the report."

Well paid, the two men stayed to finish their observations and collections and the water continued to slowly rise, rolling in but not going back out.

"Did you feel that?"

"What?"
"I’m not sure. Sort of like a vibration under my feet."
"Probably just the water. It's still coming up."
"Maybe but I'd swear..there it was again!"
"I didn't feel anything."
"Something moved by my foot!"
"Stop it."
"Really, I... what was that?"

Both men turned to see a shape under the hip high water, one that caused their mouths to dry and their hearts to thump. A shark fin.

"Back off, nice and easy."
"Don't move!"
"Look out!'
"Behind you!"
"Ahhh!"

The oil covered shark tossed his head viciously, reveling in the gush of fresh food, and then he was being pulled back by the stingray.

"Stop. There must be proof." Denied a much needed meal, the angry shark snapped at the ray and then whined in pain as the manta stung him brutally.

"Enough!' They both looked to the old, jellyfish floating in the oil stained water.

"Man is our enemy, not each other. Drag them out and the crabs will bring them to the shore so they can be found beside the black poison they unleashed." The huge Jelly was obeyed without argument and the water in the cave slowly lowered, allowing them to wash out with the wave.

"What comes next?" The Manta Ray asked the Jelly and neon lights of concentration flashed under the waves as the centuries old keeper of the water struggled to form thoughts through the rage.

"Call the whales, the orcas. Any that are left will come. We have to gather an army and drive man out of the oceans. After that, we’ll talk to those on land, make a deal if we can. Surely the air breathers are dying as fast as us."

"Can we fight so many?" The Jelly flashed uneasily.

"I don't know. Until now, our world has been unreachable but every day brings them closer to our homes, our families. If we don't fight back now, we may not be able to later and I would have justice!”

Meet Smilodon!- Alan Hayes Guest Post

Thank you, Angela, for the opportunity to introduce readers to my next release. SMILODON is due out the second week in October, and is what I term a creature thriller. I’ve always found the subgenre entertaining and the stories—whether in book version or movie—never fail to capture the public’s attention. Popular examples are JAWS, the ALIEN movies,  RELIC,  JURRASIC PARK, and many more. You get the picture. 

Since publishing THE UNNATURAL, my first creature thriller, I’ve been dying (pun only intended) to pen another one. SMILODON is my terrestrial JAWS so to speak. I’m excited about this one. Like the huge prehistoric predator in the story, this book will grab on to the reader and not let go. The story blurb is a giant cat terrorizes a small town in the Pacific Northwest. 

I’m thrilled to give your readers a sneak peak at the cover art and synopsis for SMILODON. Hope you enjoy it.

Synopsis

Seven years after a near-fatal mauling by a grizzly bear, in which his only son was killed, Jason Bristol, a one time prize-fighter and expert animal tracker, is back in the woods tracking again--when he’s not nursing the nearest fifth of whiskey.

     Then Jason’s best friend and mentor is discovered half-buried beneath a mat of pine needles.  The prospector’s mangled corpse has been mauled virtually beyond recognition.  A rancher loses a prize thoroughbred and suddenly the nightmare responsible for Jason’s downward spiral is rekindled as Jason is thrust back into the wilderness on the trail of a predator that defies belief.

     The time clock has begun for Norah Phelps, too, daughter of multimillionaire real estate developer Richard Phelps whose recent purchase of the 95,000 acre former Clarksdale Animal Preserve has pitted environmentalist and wildlife biologist daughter against capitalist father.  Norah, responsible for relocating the local wolf population, remains unconvinced a pack of marauding wolves are accountable for the attacks and enlists Jason’s help in her quest for the real killer before the spate of killings can jeopardize not only her future but also the future of her father’s prize development project.

     Against the majestic pristine backdrop of Idaho’s Bitterroot Wilderness Area, the story unfolds.  Jason, with Norah’s assistance, soon discovers the ghosts of his past are nothing compared to the battle he’s undertaken.

     Smilodon.  A saber-toothed cat.  He’s angry, he’s frightened, he’s hungry, and he’s 12,000 years from home.

Look for SMILODON this October at an ebook store near you!

Alan Nayes was born in Houston and grew up on the Texas gulf coast. He lives in Southern California. He is the author of the critically-acclaimed biomedical thrillers, GARGOYLES and THE UNNATURAL. His most recent release is BARBARY POINT, a love story. He has two other novels that will be published soon. SMILODON is about a huge cat that terrorizes a small town in the Pacific Northwest. In early 2012, Samhain Publishing will release his erotic horror story GIRL BLUE. GIRL BLUE is about a terminally ill sculptor who becomes haunted by his last work.

         An avid outdoorsman and fitness enthusiast, he is one of only a few individuals to  ever swim across Wisconsin’s chilly Lake Winnebago. When not working on his next project, he enjoys relaxing and fishing at the family vacation home in Wisconsin.

Alan Nayes books can be found at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.

BARBARY POINT 

Amazon http://amzn.to/jwaVbN
Barnesandnoble.com http://bit.ly/j4mUlk
Smashwords http://bit.ly/kZwoq7

GARGOYLES

Amazon http://amzn.to/nUMXs4
Barnesandnoble http://bit.ly/nBThYm
Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/77758

THE UNNATURAL

Amazon http://amzn.to/oXRiNV
Barnesandnoble http://bit.ly/oxjm4S
Smashwords  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/80711 

Readers can contact Alan Nayes at:

Website http://anayes.com/                     

Goodreads  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/527589.Alan_Nayes
Facebook http://on.fb.me/mflYEU
Twitter http://twitter.com/#!/alannayes
Blog   http://alannayes.blogspot.com/ 

Again, thank you, Angela, for having me on your blog.

"It's like Obscenity: I know it when I see it"-From Red Tash, Author of This Brilliant Darkness-(Guest post)

I recently met a woman online who impresses me daily with her drive and determination. Some people moan when fate throws them a wild card but not my new friend, Tash. She turns it into This Brilliant Darkness that we call dark Fantasy.


I invited her to stop by and tell you her definition of this magical, terrifying genre and she graciously accepted. I hope you'll make her feel welcome and give her new book a try. There's a free sample available and you should read it first, to be sure her level of darkness is right for you. I found it perfectly chilling.

What is Dark Fantasy?

It’s no secret—I found Angela’s blog while I was searching for other authors who write dark fantasy.  I wasn’t surprised, however, when I learned our books were so different.  So what does “dark fantasy” mean, anyway?

According to Wikipedia, there’s some debate about the term, but I’ll spare you the academic esoterics.  How about an illustration, instead? If you’re familiar with Angela’s books, you realize her dark vision includes apocalypse, man’s seedy, animal nature—and the flip side of that, the heroes who rise above destruction and fight for what’s right.

Then there are the works of Holly Black, which seem to so adore seediness that they revel in them, while at the same time making it clear that even the good guys have their nasty sides.  I confess, I was very inspired by Black when I started writing my current work-in-progress, Troll or Derby.  In fact, I’ve been trying to fill it with so many guilty pleasures, it’s probably bordering on satirical at this point.

But I digress.  Here’s the definition of Dark Fantasy I posted on my site, when I first “came out” as a dark fantasy author:  What is dark fantasy? It’s a cocktail of imagery from the most secret places of your mind. It’s scary, at times funny, imaginative, and simultaneously familiar. If you like Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, or Holly Black, you like dark fiction.

But there are other dark fantasy authors:

Charlaine Harris

Jim Butcher

Kim Harrison

Laurell K Hamilton

Ambrose Bierce

Jonathan Stroud

Suzanne Collins

And shows!  Oh, the dark fantasy shows, movies, etc. are the best:

The Walking Dead

True Blood

Game of Thrones

The Stand

Terminator

Harry Potter

Pan’s Labyrinth

Edward Scissorhands

Hot Fuzz

Bladerunner

Personally, I can’t wait to see the upcoming Hunger Games movies.  Those books are dark fantasy that meets us in a very chilling dystopian future, not unlike Angela’s books The Survivors, and the Bachelor Battles.

So, have you decided what Dark Fantasy is yet, exactly?  Angie defines it up there, in the header of her site.
As for me, I know it when I see it.

If you’ve read your way through Angie’s works, don’t forget to check out her dark fantasy blog on Amazon.  If you’d like to check out my latest book, This Brilliant Darkness, I’d love to hear what you think!

Visit me soon at RedTash.com/bash and you can enter in my Kindle giveaway.  What’s even better than a free Kindle?  How about free dark fantasy books from nearly 40 authors?  If you like your fiction scary, you’ll be reading lots of it—for free, if you’re the lucky winner!  There are also great prizes for the 2^nd & 3^rd place winners, as well.  Hope to see you there!

Want a free sample?