Monthly Archives: June 2016


Gridlocked Guesthouse Excerpt:

A fat tear rolled down her cheek as she started to dial nine. Before she could press the number one, the goats yanked forward in unison. She was suddenly dragged down into the woods, both goats bleating and pulling hard. And she fell. The goats fell too, sliding down suddenly into the darkness. To the beneath. Under the ground.
It reminded me of this time when I was a kid. I was out in the woods, like Rachel was now, but it had snowed really hard. I was pretty little, maybe, five or six. Maybe even seven. So I’m walking on top of the snow, and it has crusted over just enough to hold my weight, barely. If I stepped too hard I’d sink suddenly beneath the snow.
The snow was about thigh deep on my little legs, so it was much easier to walk on top the crust of the snow. The thin ice layer. I loved it. And even though my mother told me not to go out too far into the woods—because of the bears—I didn’t listen. I was walking along carefully, enjoying the crunchy, dangerous snow walking. At any moment, I might get stuck! Very exciting for a child like me, I must say. So I wandered out farther into the woods, and suddenly, the snow, did just the thing I was hoping and frightened will happen. It broke, and I sank in! But here’s the thing. I didn’t sink up to my thighs like I was expecting. Instead, I kept going down, down deep into the hole.
And as soon as I saw the big, sharpened sticks I knew, I just knew, I was in trouble. They didn’t catch me. I was so little, I somehow just got speared in the snowsuit. But my skin, my actual skin and bones and body were just fine. I was dangling on that little wooden spear.
I knew what this was. This was a bear trap. Sharp pointy sticks in a hole in the ground. I had helped to sharpen the sticks for my father. I had helped!
And somehow, with the heavy snow, I had missed where I was walking entirely. The world looks so different with snow! So I was stuck, I was really stuck. But that wasn’t even the problem. The problem, the way I saw it, in that moment, was that there was a bear in the trap with me. He was grimacing in pain, and looked up at me with big, frightened eyes. He didn’t have much fight left in him; his brown fur was positively dripping with blood. He let out a soft growl as he looked at me, then his tongue seemed to loll from his mouth as if it was too hard to hold it in. Blood dripped off his fangs. It had obviously snowed after he had fallen in, for he was almost invisible. Took my mom two days to find me. And I’m glad that bear was there, and hadn’t quite died yet. I bet I would have gotten too cold in there without him. Dad shot him, and he’s in the living room right now.
So you might say I know a few things about falling into a hole, and how scary it can be. Rachel, unfortunately, was in a lot more trouble than I was. She wasn’t falling into a hole with a half dead bear. She was falling into the basement with two tasty goats.


The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire.

Well, progress has been steady but slow.  I’m already quite tired of hotel life.  I’m not really sure where else I’d be happy though.  Home, obviously, but I can’t exactly stay there with the bats, and the construction or anything else.

Still keeping my writing up to normal at least!

 

Work makes the world go round.


Jaspierre Excerpt

Jaspierre drove the green car down the road, trying not to draw attention to herself. She still had two hours left before she and Lucas would meet up. She glanced at the gas gauge; it was full. Good. Nothing to fuss with there. She drove away from everything and tried to clear her head. Her car was wrecked and sitting in that lake. Chance was one step ahead. She should have paused and killed him instead of driving off in that cop car. What the hell will I do next? Mindlessly, she turned onto the highway and set the cruise control for fifty-five miles per hour. Getting pulled over was not on the agenda. She glanced at the large pile of bullets and guns on the seat. It seemed absurd to her. She had hardly even seen a gun in person before today, and now she had enough for her own goddamn army. Chance, though, had proven he wasn’t just a sick pervert, but he was dangerous. Seriously dangerous. Why else would he have so many guns? She thought it would be easy to eviscerate him, but now she wasn’t so sure.
The four-lane highway merged into a small two-lane road. She kept driving down the empty road. How the hell was she going to kill him now? Her face was flushed and anger was starting to build. She hadn’t factored explosives and bullets into the equation; every altercation with him so far hadn’t involved either. A few minutes later, a yellow sports car, clipping along at a fast pace caught up to her. Two yellow lines stood on their left. The young man in the car swerved back and forth behind her, peeking around to see if he could pass. There was now, of course, oncoming traffic. The road was always clear unless some asshole was trying to pass illegally. He swerved back behind her, pressing his nose into her car’s ass as far as he could without clipping it. Jaspierre rolled her eyes. What the fuck. The last thing she felt like dealing with was an asshole on the road. The hairs on her neck rose and she clenched the wheel tighter. Don’t do anything stupid, she tried to convince herself.
The road curved up ahead, and as she turned, he swerved again, looking for a way to go around. He nearly smashed into a semi-truck coming the other direction. He veered back, over-correcting and skidding on the gravel. Fucker. Then he honked at her as if it was her fault the speed limit existed. She slowed down, and he honked again, swerving his car back and forth, tailing her, peeking around her car so he could pass on the double yellow as soon as he found room. Fuck this shit. She cracked; she never had learned to manage her rage. She saw nobody was coming at them for a while, so she turned her car hard to the left and slammed on the brakes. Her car skidded sideways and she prepared for his impact. He managed to stop in the nick of time, and the nose of his car was inches from her back door when they both squealed to a stop. Honking repeatedly, he opened his car door. He screamed profanities.
Jaspierre picked up the rocket launcher and stepped out of her car, pressing it tight to her shoulder. Without hesitating, she pulled the trigger, but the safety was on. He stared for a moment, and then slammed his car door shut, frantically trying to get into reverse. She looked at the gun and grinned. Ah, so easy, right at her thumb. Pressed the little switch and braced herself.


Batastrophe

Here it is, the update.

The bats.

Well, poor ten has been a total spitfire this whole time.  Do you remember that I told you she woke in the middle of the night and killed a bat, then crawled back in bed like it was nothing?

She’s a fierce little lady.

Don’t mess with her.

But since she has an autoimmune condition, her rabies shots did not take.  As in, she’ll have to redo them.  And there have been many tears.

The roof is about to be peeled off my house just like Oliver’s skin was peeled from him.  And underneath it the bats will swarm.  Have you ever seen thousands of angry bats?  I hope not.  I’m sure I’ll post a picture as soon as it’s time.  As soon as it happens.

Thousands of uprooted, homeless, terrified bats breaking into my house.  They’ll swarm the screens, and try to break in windows, and crawl in the pieced of the roof.  They’ll scream their displeasure at me.  Then, slowly, they’ll give up and start to flutter away.

But some won’t take no for an answer.

And they’ll loiter in my trees, battering at my windows, my doors, my home.  They’ll break in like little bat burglars.

 

I’ve declared war on thousands of bats.  Put on your helmet, grab your binoculars and hope you don’t get hit by the fallout.


Gridlocked Guesthouse Finished

Well, I’ve finished another book, you may applaud whenever you aren’t busy.

This one has that crazy narrator I’ve been talking about. She’s my favorite part of this story so far.  I think that I have done an excellent job making four totally different, perfectly delicious  haunted house stories.

Do you like a deep back story? Ghosts from the past tormenting the current owners?  Maybe give Landlocked Lighthouse a try.

Do you prefer hilarious humor mixed with dark story?  Definitely read Gridlocked Guesthouse.  She’s absolutely bananas, and you’re gonna hold your sides with wide eyes horrified laughter.

Are you more into finding out what more than one person would do when confronted with a ghost?  Try Padlocked Penthouse.  It’s so classic.  Each guest tries to defeat the ghost in their own awful way.

 

Anyways, I’m knee deep in Firelocked Funhouse, and then that’ll be it for the hauntings for a bit.

 

I’m pretty certain I’ll be writing a dark thriller next.  Do you like dark thrillers?

 


Clearly I should get out more

Alright, so the good news is, they’re going to get the bats out, and they are going to give us a new roof in the next few weeks.

 

The bad news is, this is extremely costly and I feel a little discouraged.

 

The good news is:  When the going gets rough, I can rally like no other!  Gridlocked Guesthouse is coming out this week, and I’m knee deep into Firelocked Funhouse.

I’ll try and have this one done really quick too!  My troubles will just mean more stories 🙂