Blogger Book Fair: Monster Menagerie Entry #4

An Ogre and his Boy

By D.H. Aire

In the dank depths of the ancient keep, high atop the cliff with a narrow path leading to its summit, the lowland army threatened. Few defended what should have been open by stealth, but that could change with the help of those drawn by the keep’s sudden call.  

My blood sang as I stood straight and glared at them in the darkness. Their eyes glowed red as they faced me, defiant and angry.

“Be ogre… not easy,” I said in broken words, luckily to even recognize the harsh sounds as my own speech. “Half-starved, forced hurt humans... at his whim, I was. I no way… have… warn of evil here.” The refugees who came up the path in recent years were trapped like flies in a web and the dark creature, which had taken residence here, fed on their fear and pain.

It is diff-icult for me to think in best of times. For long time, too long, I not could. Ogre rarely could, but we dreamed. I dreamed and I know my name. “I am Walsh… ship’s… ship’s steward. I lived… among the stars.”

Their eyes widened.

Knowing who I once had been was my only solace. “One day boy came. He terrified, but slipped me scraps, meat and bones of dog. Thomi good lad. I hid him in my stall, when things… things at worst.”

There were growls.

“Think,” I demanded. “Evil gone now. Yet below, in lowlands, it… threatens. We must defend Keep… as we swore.”

I heard one hulking form breathing hard, preparing to attack me. Bracing myself, I shouted, “This my place. I never left. I… am… Walsh!”

It charged and I smashed my fist in… an uppercut. It reeled backward and crashed into a stone wall and slumped. “Oof.”

“This my place. We humans once and… this place our home!”

“Boy… rule,” rasped a voice out of the darkness.

I laughed. “He my boy… Make good lord.”

“He… not… elfblood.”

“So? Mage who saved me not elfblood.”

That statement drew silence.

“You help?”

Silence for a time.

“I… help.” “Me… too.” “Si.”

I led them to the walls where the boy exhorted the refugees to man the ramparts, to take up bows. “We come, Lord,” I shouted.

They turned, staring.

Seven ogres pledged to stand by old men, women, and children.

I pointed at the fallen stone and we carried them to the ramparts, stone often broader than a human. These stripped bones of the keep that whispered to our souls, claiming us as once the stars had.

A woman cried, “They are coming!”

I glanced over the parapet and saw the standard, bent and retrieved rounded stone that fit nicely in my hand. I tossed it remembering in another life throwing a ball. “Batter up,” I said from one of my oldest dreams. I threw.

The standard bearer cried out as was knocked aside, clutching on the astonished  soldier behind him. They dropped screaming. I grinned. “Strike one.”

“Uh, Walsh…” Thomi said as the men on the path shouted. “Uh, can you , um, strike like that again?”

I grinned, glanced at my long lost brethren and gestured. Frowning they raised the stone. I through another strike and had the errant thought that they would make a hell of a bowling team.

“Ahh!” the toppled soldiers screamed.

It was a long way down.

“Uh, how about this one,” Thomi said, trying to push a rounded bit of column toward me.

I looked to my towering ogre kin and pointed. “That’s my boy.”

They nodded and got back to business.

“LOOK OUT!” a soldier cried, then had no more to say. The soldiers tried to flee, dislodging their fellows from the path.

“Good day,” the pretty ogress said to me as she heaved a good size piece of column.

I smiled.

“Where… where I get one?”

“Hmm, you… little one… like be ogress’s girl?”

She couldn’t have been more than eleven in human years.

“Um, Walsh,” Thomi said.

“Yes… Thomi.”

“Oh, can I?”  

“Uh, never mind.”

I looked back over the parapet. The soldiers were no further threat for now. But I knew they would be back. The little girl was talking too fast for the ogress to follow. She turned to me, “Do they… always… chatter so.”

I blinked. That was a lot of words. “What your name?”
“Sheila.” Her eyes widened.

I grinned. “Sheila… Walsh.”

She blushed.

I heard the nearest humans gag, but not my Thomi or her little girl. They just began  coughing uncontrollably.

I knelt beside Thomi. “You… alright?”

“Fine,” cough, “just fine.”

I glanced at Sheila and she smiled back. We began collecting stone, lots of stone. We had a keep to protect and we were only seven ogres. But that would change. Ogres swore and we remembered.

About the Author

D.H. Aire has walked the ramparts of the Old City of Jerusalem and through an escape tunnel of the Crusader fortress that Richard the Lionheart once called home. He’s toured archeological sites from diverse cultures that were hundreds, if not thousands of years old… experiences
that have found expression in his writing of his Highmage’s Plight Series.

Highmage’s Plight, the first book in a sci fi/fantasy series that was serialized in the ezine Separate Worlds and published in novel form by Malachite Quills Publishing’s Chimera Tales imprint last year. Highmage’s Plight’s sequel Human Mage was also serialized and is being published later this summer. A collection of his stories appears in Flights of Fantasy, Vol. 1, featuring the short work of both D.H. Aire and Barry Nove. The opening chapters of his planned Young Adult novel, Dare2Believe, basically its Gulliver’s Travels meets Urban Fantasy, are available on Wattpad, a free site for YA fiction, http://www.wattpad.com/story/5048546-dare2believe.

To learn more, visit his website, www.dhr2believe.net, follow him on twitter at @dare2believe1, or on

Facebook. During the Blogger Book Fair visitors to his website have a chance to win a Highmage’s Plight t-shirt and more.

  

Blogger Book Fair: Interview Nathan Squiers

*The lights focus on two people sitting on a stage. The audience cheers as a theme to Phantom of the Opera plays. There is a table decorated with a crystal ball, a pair of vampire fangs, and a stake. *

Hi, Nathan. Welcome to Trip the Eclipse.  First of all could you tell us a little about your novels?

*Looks around for a moment, digging on the scene and absently teasing one of his lip rings before smirking over at you* Dig the scene! *sits forward* My novels... my novels... *clucks tongue* Well, I suppose it all funnels from the Crimson Shadow series. I started the first book--though it was never planned to become what it did--about 12 years ago, and while that story was coming into being I began to create a world of supernatural creatures; featuring various species of vampires, a new approach on werewolves/shapeshifters (called "therions"), elves, and other such monsters all set in the here-and-now Earth. A lot of these were modified from pre-existing legends that I'd come across in my research, but I like to think that all the different species--called "mythos"--are unique in some way or another. Nearly nine years ago I started dating Megan J. Parker (a fellow author and my future wife), and we began to combine our efforts in creating and polishing the details of the mythos universe. Since then, everything--novels, short stories, and even comic book, television, and movie scripts we've written--have been set in this universe.

My first series, the Crimson Shadow series focuses on the young tortured vampire, Xander Stryker, and his journey into the world of mythos as a "bounty hunter" (for lack of a better word) while he tries to juggle the chaos of his new life and a growing romance with his childhood friend and powerful witch, Estella Esash.

*Pauses to listen to the music for a moment, smiling* My other series--the "Death Metal" books--centers on an up-and-coming heavy metal band whose lead-singer, Bekka, is possessed by a slew of auras/"demons" that have escaped persecution from the mythos universe equivalent of the afterlife. While these entities mean Bekka no harm--they're just looking for a safe place to stay, you see--the "other side" isn't happy about losing their own, and they begin sending their own over to Earth in an attempt to retrieve them. Fortunately for Bekka, her new "friends" make her very hard to catch and even harder to kill, and her bandmates aren't exactly useless either. With a therion lead-guitarist, a magic-using bassist, a vampire drummer, and an all-too-human-but-angry-as-hell rhythm guitarist, Bekka's far from being on her own.

Congratulations of your future marriage. I always enjoy hearing about two writers who collaborate on projects. so, tell me, have there been any differences in opinion on how you want mythos to work or how you want a story to go?

Many thanks for the congratulations ^_^

As for our collaborations and any conflicts of opinion therein, there haven't really been any, actually. The mythology element of our work is stemmed from mutual research, so if we're delving into the traits/abilities of various vampires from different cultures we tend to combine over choosing one element over the other.

For example, we were researching European vampire lore at one time (a great deal of focus was in Romanian mythology, but we were dabbling across the board) and we came across two different myths that we both felt quite partial to. When all was said and done, we had a series of combined traits that included a "powerhouse" vampire that killed for sheer pleasure, was strong enough to hurl grown men to the tops of the tallest trees to impale them on branches or break through the sides of buildings, being capable of shape-shifting on a near-limitless basis, having two hearts that BOTH needed to be destroyed to successfully kill it, and control of the weather and eclipses/lunar cycles. Rather than arguing over which of these legends sounded more appropriate, we began to look for where the traits overlapped and built a foundation on the similarities--strength, brutality, narcissism, etc--and chose what we felt would make this creature what we needed it to be. Because our mythology is set in the "real" world, taking into account the theories of physics and anatomy and whatnot that we're accustomed to, we tweaked certain elements to not contradict the boundaries that we'd set and, lo and behold, created one of the vampire sub-species: the varcol; a shapeshifting breed of "perfect" life-feeder (able to spontaneously sprout wings or modify either its whole body or certain sections--claws, feet, eyes, etc--to achieve a desired effect--that is incredibly difficult to kill (even by mythos standards) and has heightened speed, reflexes, and strength as well as 4-to-5 times the psychic/telekinetic impact of a standard auric (psychic) vampire.

In many ways all of our creatures have come about in some way or another. In other cases, one of us might turn to the other and say "You know what would be REALLY cool..." and then we move on to figure out how to make an idea work.

When it comes to our stories, however, there are certainly moments when our varying interests make us want to do our own thing, but, on those occasions, that's exactly what we do. Though they're all set in the same universe, Crimson Shadow and Death Metal are my own personal pieces, where the Scarlet Night series as well as some future titles that are in the works are totally Meg's. We DO have the upcoming "Shattered" trilogy, a YA series set in the mythos world, that will be a joint effort, but not all stories that exist in the mythos universe are a combined effort.

That's fascinating. I'm pretty interested in the mythology of creatures in different cultures as well. Vampires are one of my favorites. So how many sub species of vampires have you created? And how many have come into play in your novels so far?

In a lot of ways the vampires in the mythos universe can be viewed as "forked off" from a single source (sort of an evolutionary split). The concept being that, originally, there was one species of vampire--one that could feed on both blood and psychic energy--but, as tribes/packs split and migrated to different areas that forced a strict set of feeding habits (either densely populated civilizations that wouldn't allow for public assault/feeding and forced those vampires to rely solely on feeding off of psychic energy or nearly uninhabited areas that forced the vampires to rely on speed and reflexes to find a blood source. Because these conditions eliminated the need to use one or the other of their inherent abilities, future generations eventually lost the abilities and traits that had become unnecessary.

Those that didn't need their speed, reflexes, or fangs became stronger at siphoning psychic energy and became auric vampires (a species of vampire that has bonded with their aura and is able to use it as an invisible limb that can both manipulate their environment and enter/feed from the mind of prey). Those that didn't need their inherent magic/auric control became less in tune with both while their strength, speed, and fangs became better equipped to track, hunt, and feed off of blood and became known as sangsuigas ('sang-" being the Latin root word for "blood"), otherwise known within the mythos community as "sangs". So already we have two distinct species of vampire, but, within the sangsuiga species, there's three SUBspecies: pure bloods (those born as sangs; having fully-developed & hollow fangs that contain the neurotoxins and, more importantly, the mutagen that allows them to turn humans into vampires when they're bitten), the second generations ("mades") who were turned BY a pure-blood (their fangs are not hollow and the mutagen produced by their bodies isn't potent enough to change their prey properly), and the third-generation ("freaks")--the result of a not-too-bright second generation that DOESN'T destroy the body of their prey after feeding--which are insatiable, incoherent and unintelligible beasts with all the speed and strength of a sang and all the uncontrollable savagery that's recognized in mainstream zombie fiction.

There are also cases of "perfect" vampires: those who are, like the original sources, a hybrid of the two inherent types; able to feed on both blood AND psychic energy and having all the abilities and traits associated with them (Xander Stryker is one such example, but his origins are... unconventional).

On the other side of the spectrum are the varcol, which are basically the result of the original vampires evolving to favor ALL of their strengths and intensifying those abilities ten-fold.

In the books so far I've really only touched down upon the varying levels of sangs and aurics (varcols are, due to their immense strength and power, not exactly interested in being part of the mythos community and tend to do their own thing where/when they please ~ stay tuned to see how that turns out   lol).

So, as you can see, there are TECHNICALLY four direct "species"--sang, auric, perfect, & varcol--but there's so many cases of hybrids and sub-species (not to mention the capacity for inter-species breeding with OTHER mythos types--vamp/therion, vamp/anapriek, vamp/nejin, vamp/wachuke, etc--that there's no true set number of "types".

That sounds like a lot of vampires *laughs* So, are there any famous vampire hunters in your world?

*chuckles and nods* I guess you can say that. There's definitely hunters; both mythos warriors who uphold the laws of their people and hunt rogues who threaten their global safety and, of course, humans who have their various reasons for waging war on the mythos community. The level of their "fame" is disputable, though *shrugs* I mean, any human hunter(s) that try to gain any sort of recognition in their exploits would ascend to the top of the mythos Council's public enemy list fast enough that they wouldn't see their first interview (secrecy is one of the biggest platforms on which their laws are established upon), and a mythos hunter is either acting on behalf of The Council (and is about as famous as any police officer or soldier is to us) OR they're acting out AGAINST Council law, in which case they're INfamous and, like the human hunters, won't last too long.

Xander Stryker, because of his late father's efforts in establishing structure and laws within their community, is something of a "celebrity" in his own rights (imagine if a late and beloved president's son suddenly appeared on the grid after 18 years), but he's not exactly interested in fame. In this case, however, "fame" is a double-sided axe, as there's a great number of mythos rogues across the globe just as interested in slaughtering him as fawning over him.

Fame, it appears, is a jagged mistress in the mythos universe *laughs*

Your world sounds creepy and dangerous. I look forward to delving into it. Thanks for stopping by and talking to us.

Everyone, be sure to pick up Nathan's books.

*Says is a fake Romanian accent* I bid you all goodnight.

*The audience cheers and the lights fade away*

Be sure the check out Nathan’s work on Amazon HERE and on SmashWords HERE. Visit his webpage at www.nathansquiers.com to learn more about Nathan. You can follow Nathan on Twitter @LitDark_Emperor.

Blogger Book Fair: Guest Michael Brookes

The Nature of Evil by Michael Brookes

Evil as a concept has been with us as a species for as long as we’ve been able to communicate, but what does it mean? In bygone times the definition of evil was provided by religion and was deemed a clear cut concept, a binary choice of good and evil. These days (and even back then) this concept seems too simplistic, it doesn’t reflect what we see in everyday life.

How do we define evil? The most obvious answer is by the moral code of an individual or society, but that again seems too simplistic. We can say that if something is deemed morally wrong then that is evil. It’s wrong to steal, but is that evil? Is evil and absolute or a gradient? In society morality has almost been replaced by laws. Laws define what is permissible. However here we can see some conflict between law and morality that muddies a definition of evil.

A classic example is taking drugs, the state says it’s illegal, many would argue that it is not wrong to take takes drugs and it certainly wouldn’t be considered evil by then. This throws up the issue of subjectivity, what is evil (or wrong) to one person, may not be considered so by another.

To complicate things further is evil an act or a state of being? It can of course be both. A person can commit an evil act, but not necessarily be evil in themselves. A classic example here is the crime of passion, there was no intention to commit evil, it was a spur of the moment act. The act of murder is evil, but the perpetrator is not. Or perhaps, they were evil, but only for that moment.

What is considered evil is subjective, although some acts do have a consensus. If we take these most obvious examples and boil them down they come down to a single concept – selfishness. It is the putting oneself above others that appears to be the central tenet.

It seems a bit too simple doesn’t it?

In every instance of evil you can see how the act of putting yourself above others is where the acts of evil come from. Stealing from others to enrich yourself, violence to satisfy your own cravings, and sexual crimes to establish your power. All of these things stem from your own want and needs and how they matter more than another person’s.

Let’s take an example – murder. People kill each other for various reasons, they want to take something from that person, they feel that the person doesn’t deserve to live (and thus being better than them). Even self defence implies that the killer has a better reason to live than the victim. Now I’m not suggesting that self defence is evil, although the act of killing maybe, which leaves us with the other half of the puzzle – intent.

For something to be evil, it is not just the event, but the intention of the act. The legal system has a concept for this (mens rea), for example murder is only murder if some harm was intended to the victim, otherwise it is manslaughter (the terminology varies depending where in the world you are).

So in simplistic terms we can identify the nature of evil as not only being selfish in action, but also in intent. A question arises that for evil to exist  do both components need to exist. Is the thought of evil an evil act?

I certainly hope not! As a writer I craft stories about evil all the time and I don’t think that makes me evil.

Or does it?

FAUST 2.0

Is it the rebirth of an ancient evil in a new realm? Or something much worse?

A sexy looking avatar grants wishes for people across the web, but nothing is truly free, and for those who accept, what price must be paid?

Sarah Mitchell must discover the truth of this creature and stop it while it can still be stopped, but why is a mysterious lawyer dogging her every step?

Faust 2.0 is the first book in the new Mitchell & Morton series.

Available now on Kindle:

Amazon (UK): http://www.amazon.co.uk/Faust-2-0-Morton-Mitchell-ebook/dp/B00CTA3YIE/

Amazon (US): http://www.amazon.com/Faust-2-0-Morton-Mitchell-ebook/dp/B00CTA3YIE/

About Michael Brookes

Michael Brookes is an Executive Producer with a leading UK games developer. Working in games and writing are two of his life passions and he considers himself fortunate to be able to indulge them both. He lives in the east of England, enjoying starry skies in the flattest part of the country. When not working or writing he can sometimes be found sleeping. Which is good as that is where many good ideas come from.

Other Books by Michael Brookes

The Cult of Me

The first book in ‘The Third Path’ trilogy.

For too long he dwelt apart, watched those who passed him by. With his unique abilities he entered their minds and inflicted terrible suffering upon them. They didn't even know who he was. The game has lasted for years, but now the game has become stale. On an impulse he decides to make a final and very public last stand. After surrendering himself to the police he enacts his plan to seize the prison for his final bloody act.

There he discovers that he's not as unique as he once thought.

Buy now from:

Amazon (US): http://www.amazon.com/The-Cult-Third-Path-ebook/dp/B008O7ZVXW/
Amazon (UK): http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Cult-Third-Path-ebook/dp/B008O7ZVXW/
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cult-of-me-michael-brookes/1112888391?ean=2940016637747&isbn=2940016637747
iTunes (US): https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id639396634
iTunes (UK): https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/id639396634

Conversations in the Abyss

The second book in ‘The Third Path’ trilogy.

Stealing Lazarus’s miracle gifted him immortality. Combined with his natural ability of invading and controlling people’s minds this made him one of the most dangerous people on Earth.

But the miracle came with a price. His punishment was to be imprisoned within the walls of an ancient monastery and tormented by an invisible fire that burned his body perpetually. To escape the pain he retreated deep into his own mind.

There he discovers the truth of the universe and that only he can stop the coming Apocalypse.

Buy now from:

Amazon (US): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BCP08JU/
Amazon (UK): http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00BCP08JU/
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1115281270?ean=2940016700465&isbn=2940016700465
iTunes (US): https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/id647298331
iTunes (UK): https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/id647298331

An Odd Quartet – Drabble Enhanced Edition

A quartet of dark short stories (10,000 words total) each with a twist in the tale. The drabble enhanced edition also contains some of my favourite drabbles (100 word stories).

The Yellow Lady
Grave robbing is a dirty business, in more ways than one. When he disturbs the grave from a childhood scary story he discovers it's not always treasure to be found.

This Empty Place
At the heat death of the universe, Death contemplates his existence.

Forced Entry
Terrorists seize an average suburban house. A Special Forces hostage rescue team is sent in and encounter more than they were trained for.

The Reluctant Demon
A young demon prepares to take his possession exam.

Buy now from:

Amazon (US): http://www.amazon.com/An-Odd-Quartet-ebook/dp/B009QJMMPC/
Amazon (UK): http://www.amazon.com/An-Odd-Quartet-ebook/dp/B009QJMMPC/
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/an-odd-quartet-michael-brookes/1046494250?ean=2940016693453
iTunes (US): https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id636526301
iTunes(UK): https://itunes.apple.com/uk/book/id636526301
Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/An-Odd-Quartet/book-IW9-ulByxE-fcgKdLgZT8Q/page1.html

Blogger Book Fair: Monster Menagerie Entry #3

Flash Fiction Thrillogy Part 2:

What If? … Whatever (A Marvel Zombies / Væmpires Mashup)

“Logan, don’t do this without us,” Kitty said, although both knew he would. Wolverine, as he was more commonly known, rarely followed advice.

“I’m not waiting for reinforcements,” Wolverine barked. “In the end, I’ll have to do things the hard way. It never fails.”

He powered the headset down, cutting Kitty off.

“Boring conversation, anyway,” he muttered, eyeballing the horde of swarming creatures. The multi-limbed, multi-eyed entities were unpleasant to view and they emitted a vibrating, nerve-grating sound, but it was their ability to vaporize everything they touched that concerned Logan most.

“Any idea what they are?” he asked his partner.

“There isn’t enough data.”

Wolverine bit back a caustic remark. It was always surprising to hear Banner’s voice coming from The Hulk’s mouth, but it was never wise to provoke him. Besides, Hank said the newest development indicated improvement. 

The deadly ocean flowed forward, stretching far and wide.

Logan shrugged. “I guess it’s time for Plan B.”

“I didn’t realize we had a Plan A,” The Hulk said with a baleful stare. “Or that it failed.”

Wolverine stared back.

The Hulk sighed, striding toward the oncoming wave. “What’s Plan B?”

“What else?” Wolverine answered. “Fastball special.”

The Hulk froze, before slowly turning toward Wolverine. “Logan, I’m honored.” His face was somber, but Banner’s voice betrayed a hint of humor.

“Can it, bub,” Wolverine growled, fighting the urge to hit the brute. “I like you better when your only vocabulary is Hulk smash.”

Banner’s laugh filled the air as The Hulk’s gargantuan hands settled around Wolverine. Logan curled up, primed and ready to explode in the kamikaze attack that never failed to redline his thrill-o-meter.

The Hulk reared back, arm cocked—

The ominous, nerve-grating sound disappeared.

The wave of creatures did, too.

“Huh?”

The massive fist opened, dumping Wolverine to the ground in an unceremonious, undignified, and uncharacteristic heap. He leaped to his feet; claws extended, senses on high alert, scanning the surroundings for new threats.

That was his intent, at least. Instead, he staggered to his feet, his body betraying more than responding. All he could think about was how hungry he was.

Next to him, The Hulk scratched his head, peeling off strips of decaying flesh.

They were zombies.

Again.

“Sunova—” he began, before his jaw unhinged, strangling his words. He snapped it together with a frustrated swipe that nearly beheaded him.

They were in a grass courtyard, alone. A grand building stood before them.

“Caaastle,” The Hulk groaned. “Eaaat.”

“It’s Windsor Castle,” Wolverine countered, ignoring the hunger and praying his jaw remained hinged. “But this certainly ain’t jolly ol’ England.”

He tested the air as they shuffled toward the castle. He smelled blood—lots of it—from somewhere behind the building. He angled toward it, almost leaving a leg behind in the process.

The Hulk followed, drooling.

The sounds of fighting—albeit strangely subdued—reached them as they rounded the corner. Wolverine sniffed again. Most of the blood wasn’t deliciously human. It was …

“Vampires,” he groaned, turning toward his blundering partner. “I hate vampires.” But there was other blood, too. Something … different.

“Preferrr Sabrrretoooth?”

“I’d prefer something with less angst,” Wolverine barked, missing Banner’s voice.  “No witches or wolves, either.”

“Zommmbies,” The Hulk mumbled.

“No zombies. It’s bad enough we’re infected again.”

“Zommmbies,” the brute repeated, lifting a decaying arm to point over Wolverine’s shoulder.

Wolverine turned with drunken grace. In the distance, a pair of teen boys—vampires, from their lack of body heat—stood side-by-side beside a prone form as a sea of shambling creatures crowded toward them.

“Well, I’ll be,” Wolverine started, but The Hulk interrupted.

“Zommmbies.”

“Sure, bub. Zombie vampires. Who woulda thunk it?”

He calculated the distance. Given their current state of disrepair, they couldn’t reach the teens in time to assist.

They needed a miracle.

“Fasssballl speciaaal,” The Hulk groaned.

“Your arm’d fall off first,” Wolverine countered. A glance showed him that the teens were overwhelmed, but a plan formed.

He reached over, severing one of The Hulk’s arms at the elbow. Snagging it before it tumbled to the ground, he waved it overhead and bellowed.

“Avengers assemble!”

The rearmost portion of the zombie horde halted, turning toward the sound en masse.

“Come and get it,” he cried, waving furiously. Pieces of dead flesh rained down.

The zombies came. Not all of them, though, and not enough. Wolverine saw the teens fall, waves of undead crashing upon them.

But the cavalry arrived, in the distance—a squad of vampires, led by a stunning, black-haired woman. If the teens held on for another moment, they would be saved.

Satisfied, Wolverine dropped the severed arm and prepared for battle.

The Hulk eyed his lost appendage. He clenched his remaining fist.

“Whaaat ifff … Hulllk smaaash?”

Wolverine nodded. “Whatever, bub.”

The first installment of the thrillogy is part of Shah Wharton’s “Minuscule Morsels of Marvel” event here. The final installment will appear on the Vaempires website as part of the “Flash Fiction Challenge II” event. Check ‘em out—in fact, don’t miss any of the Blogger Book Fair events!

Thomas Winship is the author of the Vaempires book series. You can find his books here and his website here.

Blogger Book Fair: Monster Menagerie Entry #2

Brocken Bow

by Jessica Fortunato

                Her name was Anne, and she detested exercise.  In fact, detested was too kind a word for how she felt now that she had carted herself up over 3,000 feet simply to look upon the world from a different perspective.

                She had been traveling across Europe alone, making friends and seeking shelter at youth hostels.  It was what free spirited people did before dedicating years of their lives to college and a medical career. She’d chosen to travel alone because she preferred her own company to the whims of others.  Anne, both regimented and goal oriented had planned every part of her trip.  She rarely checked in with her parents, she was an adult now and would have to learn to live apart from their reassurance.  If there was one word to describe her, everyone would have agreed that word was pragmatic. 

                Therefore, she had surprised even herself when she began a spending time with an attractive man named Eli.  He had a deep Texas drawl that made Anne think of her native Dallas even as they sat silently watching television in a German youth hostel.  It was this comforting feeling that eased her into saying yes when Eli suggested the hike up the mountain as a once in a lifetime experience.

During the climb, Eli had been kind in keeping a slower pace for Anne who was unaccustomed to climbing anything but stairs.  In every way, she was free.  She wondered then, why she felt so trapped.

Eli said he was going to circle the side of the peak, and Anne was fine staying on the footpath.  She pulled her camera from her pack.  Surely, she should bring back proof of such a daring adventure.  She took pictures of the snow above her, the breathtaking sunset, and leaning over took photos of the jagged peaks below.

The days that followed went quickly.  Eli had left, next going to France.  He hadn’t even asked her to accompany him.  He’d barely spoken at all since their trip and she decided she hadn’t needed a love life after all.  She was concerned he’d stolen her camera, which she had searched for but had never found.  The hostel had become empty with summertime ending.

She lay half-asleep under the comforter twisting and kicking feverishly. She awoke disoriented but with the hairs on her neck standing straight.  The room was still empty.  She got up and followed the moonlight to the bathroom. As she slowly trailed the hallway she couldn’t shake the feeling she was not alone.  She suddenly thought of the dark fairytales her grandmother had told her and goose bumps rose on her skin.  She told herself she was being foolish, a child, but even her pragmatism was not bringing her its usual comfort.

Someone had left the medicine cabinet open and it took all of her strength to close it.  As the hinges creaked she stared out the small window, fearing at any moment a wicked witch or evil spirit would be looking back at her.

Anne fiddled with the faucet but nothing came out.  She sighed heavy with frustration looking up to take in her own reflection, but there was only darkness.

It was as though she was staring into a black hole.  As she lifted her hand to her cheek, she realized the darkness took shape.  The shadow in the mirror appeared to be touching its cheek as well with frighteningly elongated fingers.  She appeared taller in this shadow reflection, lankier, more menacing. 

Anne ran from the bathroom to her neatly made bed.  Her mind racing, she tried to play back the past days, yet all she could remember was the exhausting hike up Brocken Peak. 

With her hiking coat on, she trudged in her boots to the pub across the street.  Her logical brain told her that no one there would know how to help her, yet she had a sudden and foreign urge not to be alone.  The only patron sat nursing a scotch.  She went around the counter to face him.  When the man looked up, he was startled and fell from his stool. 

Anne raced to the base of Brocken Peak.  Her heart thudding in her chest she kept telling herself she would find answers in the place she last remembered.  Yet every windowpane and car mirror along the way projected the ghostly image of a dark and exaggerated shadow of her former self.

As she neared base camp, there were already emergency vehicles present.  A familiar voice pulled her attention to a nearby car.  Her mother sat quietly crying.  Anne had never wanted to feel the warmth of her mother’s arms more than she did in that moment. 

She nearly reached her mother’s side when she caught sight of the open body bag on the ground.

Inside, she finally gazed upon her own reflection. In her bloodied hand sat her mangled camera.

She looked up hoping to see her mother’s face but the people and vehicles were gone. 

She stood, surrounded by the grossly drawn out shadows of dozens upon dozens of others.

They reached for her greedily with their long blackened fingers…

Blogger Book Fair: Interview with Beck Sherman

*A spotlight centers on a dais with two people sitting at a table with a red tablecloth. There are various stakes, holy water, and a cross on the table. The audience cheers from the darkness.*

Hello, everyone. Today I’d like to welcome Beck Sherman to Trip the Eclipse.

1. Who is your favorite author and why?

Stephen King has been scaring and inspiring me from the very beginning. His older books are some of my favorites, like The Shining. I went to see him speak once in Rhode Island and he stuck his index finger up and said, “Redrum.” It was classic.  

2. What, in your opinion, are the most important elements of good writing?

           

Writing good ─ ahem, writing well. Grammar is so important. Bad grammar is a distraction and no amount of brooding heroes or stellar plotting will change that. Next up, the ride, especially for my kind of writing: horror. The reader needs to be kidnapped, essentially, and not let go until the very last word. Finally, the protagonists, your heroes, should be loved, in my opinion. Create characters that people will root for.

3. What were your feelings when you first saw the cover of the finished product?

For my first book Revamp I thought “Whoa, wasn’t expecting that.” The cover was designed by a friend, Chris Deal. It was bold and unlike anything I had seen out there, which I liked. For my second book Goodbye Nothing I was involved in all of the stages and prototypes. I laughed, I cried. It’s been quite the trip. You can check out the final product for yourself at the BBF cover reveal going on now at my blog DyingToWrite.

                                                                               

4. If you could leave your readers with one legacy, what would you want it to be?

A slew of novels that makes them hide under their covers at night but not before getting up to close and lock all of the doors and windows. And as an avid supporter of the underdog, stories that tell the freaks, the geeks, and the outcasts that they’re not alone in their struggles and that the world is silently rooting for them.

5. How do you feel about the horror boom of the 80’s and early 90’s?

Is this a trick question? I LOVED it. And that torch is still burning. This is when horror was good. Friday the Thirteenth, Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, Gremlins, Poltergeist, The Lost Boys (one of my favorite movies). The torture porn of today hadn’t really hit the scene. The movies were about deep, in-your-gut scares, sometimes with a large topping of cheese. Ah, those were the days.

6. What was a time in your life when you were really scared?

A couple of years ago, a friend and I went on an excursion to an abandoned insane asylum in Massachusetts. There are so few of them left, and most of the buildings that are still standing have gotten the orders to be torn down to make room for apartment complexes and strip malls. The grounds were vast and by sheer luck we ended up finding the underground tunnel that they used to transport patients. The tunnel was pitch black, but we had forgotten flashlights (apparently it does happen), so armed with only a digital camera and flash to see what was ahead, we went in. It was terrifying.

7. Do you ever come up with anything so wild that you scare yourself and leaves you wondering where that came from?

My spouse calls me the “creepiest nice person” and to my dismay sometimes uses that moniker to introduce me to new people. I don’t think a “normal” person can write horror and not surprise themselves. On the other hand, if you’re Jack the Ripper, then decapitating someone in the story is just expected, and probably not all that interesting.   

8. What do you think draws people to horror novels? Why do we, as readers, like to be scared?

People desire the adrenaline rush of horror, but the safe horror. Books, movies, funhouses. Because being scared in real life sucks. Your plane is actually going down. That sucks. You’re actually being chased by an axe-wielding maniac. That sucks. A giant shark is actually tearing you in half. That sucks. To be able to experience terror from the safety of your sofa, without the pain or the death, is really something else.     

9. Do you ever research real events, legends, or myths to get ideas?

I research, but not so much to get ideas. Those just come to me. You’ll know if you see an energy-saving light bulb appear above my head.

10. Tell us your latest news. Any new thrills we can expect from you?

"Yes, and thank you for asking. My second book, Goodbye Nothing, is an adult horror novel in the same vein as Dexter and American Psycho. You can stay updated on all the latest news here: http://www.becksherman.com/

Find out more about Beck Sherman.

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