Have You Ever? #submission #iamwriting #publishing

So you’ve submitted an article, a story, your masterpiece to X, Y, Z publishing. It’s your 1st, 10th, 100th…. submission.

Anxious, nail biting, calm resolve like after the first date. Will I get a call? What will I do while I wait?

It’s a good story. No Great!

It’s not the money (never has been). The story it’s one that needs to be heard. She lived it, she suffered.

Day by day, I wait to hear back. Will the publisher see the value in a woman’s suffering? It does not change the worth of the person who lived through it.

She’s Ugandan and the story embodies a time when most young women in the North were sex slaves to a guerilla army.

The story is the same…

the geography alone changes.

And women continue to survive some of the worst treatments men can inflict.

Her story will be told whether I write it or not…

A Dark Night #noir #poetry #EdgarAllenPoe

Edgars desk

Gather my last notes

sleep never so desired

always more elusive

more muddied in the mire

against eyelash moth fluttered

taunting at my face

stopping for full moments

slumber could not erase

those errant memories

pass me, you and I

never have I slept

since the day you died

 fingers momentary

clasp about my throat

end this misery

 “goodbye” all you wrote

 my end you had predicted

 tables then were turned

shot in desperate dark

the killer in hell will burn

fresh white like a lily

purest scent I’d known

now a dusty red

stained the step toward home

your whisper doth entice

it draws me near the fire

wings might easily ignite

lay next to you my desire

work must yet be done

before I lay my head

I gather darkest dream

you villains breathe in dread

We celebrate your gift of using the pen to write Noir. Thank you Edgar for your inspiration to many writers

Happy Birthday

A to Z and Back Again #atozchallenge

A-to-Z Reflection [2015] - Lg

As so many, I am writing a succinct reflection on the 2015 A to Z Challenge.

Each year I have a different focus: this year’s primary focus was to high- light several friends who (I think) are gifted writers. I also wanted to share about a poetry book (A Song for Liberia) that will be published this summer with all the proceeds going to children orphaned by Ebola.

cover closer

Each year,  I want to  support Arlee Bird who had the vision for the A to Z Challenge and is a fantastic human being.

I like meeting fantastic writers and this year was no exception.

My final observation is that those who gained from the A to Z Challenge were those who took the time to make not only thoughtful posts but took the time to visit and COMMENT on fellow A to Zer’s blogs. Afterall the Blogging community of writers thrives because people support each other.

I have met many fantastic people over the years and this year I am grateful again for some friendships (or is that blogships) that will continue.

2015 A to Z Challenge is a wrap!

Zilch, Zophiel, Zero… #atozchallenge

a to z

Zilch, is all’s I ever got. My wife, the harpy, continually nags me to take her places.

I thought, “Peru is some place.”

The Inca ruins were breathtaking.

All I heard was, “The mountains are freezing.

So I bought Marjorie a coat made from  mountain goat’s wool.

Later that day, we climbed to Machu Picchu.

We were standing on a cliff enjoying the magnificent view when a Harpy Eagle swooped down and seized her.

Soaring into a canyon, he dropped her on the jagged rocks.

He thought she looked like a tasty goat.

Now how’s that for ironic?

A Harpy eating a harpy.

***

Many thanks to my friend Steve Slack who pulled off not only a great “Z” for the end of the A to Z Challenge, but he did it in less than 100 words – Bravo Steve.

And here’s a tantalizing tidbit from Matt Harrill’s new serial The ARC Legacy that will be coming in 2016

***

His hands balled in fists, Zophiel dropped to his knees, his robes spreading about him.

Tears of purest light streamed down his face, glistening like the first rays of dawn on the morning of the first day. His head hung low.

“Metatron, my brother, is dead…” The whisper came from clenched teeth.

The lips peeled back as his shoulders trembled, the feathers on his enormous wings starting to shake as grief very evidently became rage. Those nearby took a step back.

“They did this.” His eyes opened, and the crystal blue had been replaced with irises of darkest night. “Release Nibiru,” he growled. “Unleash the host.”

“Zophiel, no,” Ioviel gasped. “The world will end.”

“The world has ended.”

***

And one final visit to the dark streets of New Cago…

“Luz, we are down to Zero!” Sam’s hands grew numb as he held a lifeless hand.

It was true the last of his friends (and hers) were dead.

Sam was all that was left, strangely he was more driven.

“Our blood gives you the best chance to succeed, Sam.”

“All my friends are dead and I’m supposed to be comforted?”

“No time for tears, Sam.” A woman who was wearing one pink slipper whispered.

****

“Zeek,  today is your lucky day!”

Sam held a list. He gladly put a line through the last name – in blood.

Many thanks to the A to Z crew for another great year. I would like to put in one more mention for the Fill the Cracks program for children Orphaned by Ebola. We appreciate any support – reblogs, tweets…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Spoiler Alert!!!

The writers are loose

“W” Wild Game by Newt Livesay

Poe skull

Maybe this should have been titled ” What the cat dragged in.” If you are stewing over how to get rid of that pesky corpse, a drive into the back country may be worth your while:

A boyhood friend of mine whom I spent many hours playing cowboys, army or camping out in the back yard with lived only a few blocks from my house. His parents were divorced and I spent many hours at his grandparents’ house where he lived. His grandfather had a small fishing bait store that sat on the highway leading to the lake. The area was semi-country with large open spaces between houses. Well one day while playing at my friend’s house, his grandfather came out and told us to find out what the dog was chewing on and go bury it. Seems the dog had been chewing and rolling on a stinky, meat morsel he had drug up from the woods. The dog would come welcome new customers when they drove up to the bait shop, and the smell from him rolling on the chunk of whatever was making people flee. My friend and I get a shovel and went to find the chew toy that Big Red had been playing with the last few days. Finding the doggy treat was surprising to say the least. At first we could not figure out what we were looking at until one of us took a stick and scraped away some of the lawn clipping and oak leaves stuff to its surface of the semi-round chunky treat. It had human teeth!  It scared the heck out of us two young pecker-woods and we went screaming across the yard like little sissy-girls looking for grandpa. A phone call brought the cops, local sheriff, and state police. It did not take long to find the body in the field across the street from the bait store. Seems the possums, coons, dogs, domestic house cats and assorted wild vermin had scattered what was left of it over a couple hundred square feet. The man’s identity was made from the half dozen upper teeth still in the meat ball. With the price of gold now, my friend and I should have spent a few minutes checking his teeth I guess, but that is hind sight and I should have also bought Coke-a-Cola and Wal-Mart stock while I am lamenting.

**

I am winding up the A to Z month with some handy tips for writers. My very good friend Newt Livesay is deliberate in his research and since crime is his genre he has to figure out a way for his “bad guys” get rid of bodies. Newt did a blog called the body disposal group where these different “pieces” are taken from.

Newt is finalizing a novel set in New Orleans titled: “The Man that Tattooed Women.” This novel  is one part serial killer one part raging hurricane which sums up to a thrilling ride. If you like a book that you can’t put down and you find yourself screaming”RUN”  at the characters, then you will like this story. The novel should be in e-book form by this summer.

You can find Newt at Facebook  onTwitter he is @newtlivesay. If you or anyone you know has served in the military, it is quiet likely that they used a Livesay knife to stay alive. Newt is an excellent writer and a dear friend and I am grateful for the tips he is sharing for the letters T-W!!!

***

Now for the Disclaimer – This blog does not suggest that anyone should do anything that would be considered illegal. This is a blog for writers to use for research, and as comical relief of a very serious problem. If you do not understand this fully, or you think this give you the rights to commit an illegal act, you’re one sick bastard, and you should seek competent mental counseling immediately.
 All rights reserved  (c) 2015 by Newt Livesay

W

Wow it’s “W” and A to Z Challenge is wrapping up this week. More A to Z folks to meet:

 

1075.
1096.
1097.
1100.
1106.
1107.
1113.
1120.

 

“V” is for Violet by Newt Livesay #atozchallenge

IMG_3198

She used to be sweet as violets now she’s jut the fat girl that you cant wait to get rid of. So the question is, “how?” You know if you shoot her there would be ‘stuff’ everywhere and after watching over three hundred hours of COPS you know all about good ‘stuff.’
You just need for her to disappear and not come back and that is when it comes to, you’ll take her fishing. She likes to fish and she wont think nothing of you coming home with a bucket of stink bait, and wanting to go-a-fish’n. You tell everyone that she left a note saying she was going to see her sister and no one will know the difference. What you need to know is how to sink her and keep her down until nature does it work.
To keep a body down depends upon a number of factors beginning with but not limited to water temperature. Is the water moving such as a river or stream? Is the water still such as would be found in a pond or lake? Is it shallow like in a slue or slow moving like a stream? Is the water warm or cold? Is the water fresh or saline? Water that is warm enough will cause a body to decompose and float.  Cold water will actually prevent decomposition and keeps the body from floating.
How to get her in the water. You hit her on the head and dump her over board. No! If you do that that there will be a big bump on her head, remember episode number —- ah —- something or other where the CSI determined that the guy was killed and thrown in the lake. Hell, she can’t swim so why not just throw her out of the boat into the water. You row off and she thrashes around like a wounded whale and then sinks once she takes in a good lung full of water. She will begin to rot away at the moment of death. The decay of the flesh will generate gases that  will cause her body to float. Seeing how a body is normally heavier than water she should get a good lung full of swamp water and sink like a rock. Even if she does sink after a few days in the warm water the decomposition will generate enough gas to float her to the top. You’ll have to come back down to the swamp and find her floating corpse and shoot her with your twenty-two rifle a few times and she might just up and explode like a bloated cow when stuck with a sharp stick and sink.
Then again, maybe when she comes to the surface the birds, some bugs, snapping turtles an alligator are some other scavengers will be’ah eat’en on her. Once them critters chew a hole in her it will cause the bloating body to lose the gases that are building up and she will fall apart and sink to the bottom.
You can see her now floating in the lagoon like a grazing Manatee, head, arms and legs all dangling down beneath her. Then it is off to the Piggin Wiggin’out Combination Convenience Store Rib Joint and Asian Fingernail Parlor, where that hot dish-water bleached blond, named Valerie, works.
Now for the Disclaimer – This blog does not suggest that anyone should do anything that would be considered illegal. This is a blog for writers to use for research, and as comical relief of a very serious problem. If you do not understand this fully, or you think this give you the rights to commit an illegal act, you’re one sick bastard, and you should seek competent mental counseling immediately.

 

All rights reserved  (c) 2015 by Newt Livesay

Only a few more days of the A to Z Challenge!!!

atoz-oldbook-01-wb

 A to Z bloggers to say “Hi” to:
1024.
1040.
1059.
1069.

Missed by Leslie Moon #atozchallenge

newcago blood
It’s a messed up place.  “NewCago – the metropolis of the golden age.” Ha – It was a great city ’til something went wrong.
 What were they were thinking when they reconstituted  Julius Caesar’s DNA.
Wouldnt you expect –  senseless killings, women enslaved , children given as offerings?  I can still see it – blood on the streets.
One night he was poisoned;  the next morning the MOB came in and became the government.  So we went from a crazy demigod to a bloodthirsty gang led society.
People are scared so they live in a cage. It should be called NewCage.
People know better than to go out after 6 at night,  even the cops.
As the clock chimes the hour in city hall, you can hear the clang of metal clad doors being slammed shut and quadruple locked..
The fancy folks have remote timed doors that close with lead bars that drop into feet of metal lined concrete.
I remember chuckling to my Lucy, ” It’s like living in a coffin for half of your life.”
So that night I told her, “Let’s go celebrate your birthday. I have this in an emergency (I pulled out my Glock .) I’m tired of breathing stagnant air.”
If I hadn’t been so cavalier, I would be tucking her in instead of cradling her bloodied body.
“Luce, why did you block the bullet? It was meant for me, doll. You deserve to live another day. I never started living ’til I found you again.”
 Problems follow me as does death. Blood seems to always end up on my hands. 

blood drips

A to Z participants I am enjoying today:
573.

“L” Lust by Matt Harrill

front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

The hawk-eyed man watched them cross the room while he toyed with the woman he had chosen in his dance of lust. The couple had fallen from his spell, their faces scared, the clarity of the alien situation thrust upon them. He realized he himself had become caught up in the moment, and regretted his momentary lapse of concentration. From across the room, a woman alone smiled at him, oblivious to the carnal riot going on around her.

“You never could concentrate on the task at hand, Asmodeus,” she purred, her voice no louder than a whisper yet attuned to his hearing

He smiled and continued administering kisses to the blonde woman he had chosen for his toy. They would be out of sight, but they could never escape him. In between kisses, his teeth grew to needle points, and, with a fierce bite, he ripped her throat out. She dropped to the floor, too overcome by lust to have even registered her peril. Her last thoughts of a lovers’ embrace, her loins tight with anticipation. Nobody in the room noticed.

“All in good time, Belphegor. All in good time.”

 

***

Today is the last day I will be featuring excerpts from Matt Harrill’s novel Hellbounce from the Arc Chronicles. Leave a comment and you name goes in the “hat” for a book giveaway.

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy The Arc Chronicles.

Matthew W Harrill lives in the idyllic South-West of England, nestled snugly in a village in the foothills of the Cotswolds. Born in 1976, he attended school in Bristol and received a degree in Geology from Southampton University. By day he plies his trade implementing shareplans for Xerox. By night he spends his time with his wife and four children. (and he writes sci-fi horror).

I have a delightful interview of Matt as well. He really is an interesting chap and his writing is to die for…

Chat with him on twitter @matt_harrill

You can find Matt on Amazon and will be glad that you did!!!

Tomorrow will begin a week of noir fiction with a bit of paranormal thrown in.

540.
546.
559.
5

“K” is for Klan by Matt Harrill

front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

They passed without incident through the rest of New Market, pulling onto the interstate and resuming their journey south.

Eva let the tension build for half an hour or so while observing the man. Madden was right; she could see what he meant. As with those they had seen before, this man looked to be a figure out of history. His brown uniform appeared antique. He could have been from two centuries before. Unfortunately, the damning evidence was the hood that he had tucked at his belt. Eva leaned over as the terrified man stared at her and retrieved it. The hood was burlap, with eye holes and a larger gap for the mouth cut in one side.

“I see what you mean,” Eva said to Madden, who stared straight ahead, not responding.

She turned to the man. “You are of the Klan. What is your name and rank? Janus, remove his gag.”

Janus leaned over, and ripped the tape he had used from the man’s mouth before he had a chance to tense, settling back on the other side of the back seat.

“My name? You may call me Jack Crow.” He then laughed uproariously at some self-perceived joke. “I am a redeemer. What is this? Some sort of carriage? Why are there no horses? Who are you, eh? What right have you to entice me here? Who do you work for? Grant?”

“See,” Madden said without turning his head.

Jack Crow peered around him. “This is exceeding soft in here. This must be your powder room. So does General Grant allow you a man slave and a retard? Perchance your horses are decked with pretty pink ribbons too?” More raucous laughter.

“You have a lot of questions for someone in your position, Mr. Crow.”

“You aren’t here to scare me, lady. I have seen true fear. I have witnessed it. Whoever you are, and wherever this is, I don’t care.”

“That’s fine, then. We will stop here, and execute you now.”

Eva said this in such an offhand way that Crow was completely caught off his guard. “No! There are rules now, even if I despise everything you ragamuffins stand for. You can’t do that.”

Eva pulled out the mysterious book and handed it to Janus. “Let’s see, given what we have been through, just how much we are prepared to stick to the rules.”

Janus took the book, and pushed it against Crow’s face. The effect was instant. Smoke began to boil from the point of contact, and Crow screamed. The stench of burned flesh quickly filled the car.

“Enough,” Eva held out her hand and Janus returned the book to her. “How did you know we were coming?”

Crow panted for a moment as he stared at her in undisguised terror. “We… we… had no idea you were coming. We were left here and instructed to bar the way of any we felt needed it.” Crow jutted his jaw at Madden’s back. “We felt him coming. He is like a beacon.”

 

 

******

***I will be giving at least one copy of Hellbounce (excerpt above) away. Come back for G-L and leave a comment for a chance to win!!!***

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy The Arc Chronicles.

Matthew W Harrill lives in the idyllic South-West of England, nestled snugly in a village in the foothills of the Cotswolds. Born in 1976, he attended school in Bristol and received a degree in Geology from Southampton University. By day he plies his trade implementing shareplans for Xerox. By night he spends his time with his wife and four children. (and he writes sci-fi horror).

I have a delightful interview of Matt as well. He really is an interesting chap and his writing is to die for…

Chat with him on twitter @matt_harrill

You can find Matt on Amazon and will be glad that you did!!!

Some folks I am enjoying today!

 

 

493.
498.
509.

“J” Jump by Matt Harrill

front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

The lights in the hangar faded as the front hangar doors opened. The planes came alive, engines whining, and began to taxi out of the hangar onto the runway.

From her vantage point, Eva watched the small planes, capable of seating no more than six people each, crawling along the asphalt. The first turned and began to power up for takeoff. Against the backlighting of the main terminal, it was possible to see a figure run out past the hangar and leap onto the wing of the plane.

“What’s he think he’s doing?” Exclaimed Madden.

“He doesn’t think,” Eva replied. “He is past that stage now. It’s all instinct for him. However he got free, he is seeking me, and thinks I’m in there.”

“We suspect he isn’t the only one,” added Jeanette.

The planes continued in their take off, despite Brian clinging to one of the wings. Both accelerated to take off speed, and left the ground. Only moments later from a different part of the airport, two rockets flared into life, one heading to each plane.

The sound of the twin explosions shattered glass in the hangar, and the wreckage of the planes covered the far end of the runway. In moments, sirens wailed as emergency rescue vehicles rushed into action.

“Now we wait,” observed Janus.

“For what?” Asked Madden. “For them to start asking who owns the planes, who was in them, and who fired those rockets?”

“Should not be an issue. We have you and your legendary anonymity for protection. The planes were registered to a phantom company who have hangars elsewhere on the grounds. They were controlled by remote. If not for them being shot down, they would have crashed somewhere close by in the state, making everybody think you had been killed. A little misdirection can go a long way. Look out now – you will see already they start to gather.”

Eva peeked out of the hangar. In the darkness, it was easy to observe the helicopters beginning to fill the sky. Nearby in the hangar, some of the black-ops peeled tarpaulins off a black helicopter and began to prepare it for takeoff.

“We will just be another bird in the sky, with all of the others scavenging for a story.”

“We will. You are all important, and what you carry especially so.”

“The books?”

Janus threw the still-wrapped texts at Madden, who caught them by reflex. Instantly he hissed in pain and dropped them.

“There’s a good reason for that, rubber ball,” Janus said as he retrieved them. “We must go now, or see all of this destroyed. These texts might well hold the key to what has been going on.”

“To Egypt? You have a strange concept of safety.”

“You are here. Everybody knows it. Anywhere is safer than here. Can you not sense it?”

Madden was still for a moment. “Demons. Everywhere, but not close.”

“Not close enough to stop us this time. We go to the source of these scrolls, and for God’s sake try to lay low for a while.”

Eva took her place beside Madden, opposite Tilly. “Not coming, Jeanette?”

The blonde presenter shook her head. “My place and my job are here. I am the face of this. You need to see me, just turn on a television. Listen carefully when you do. There may be more being said than most understand.”

Slamming the door shut, Jeanette stepped away from the helicopter as the blades began to turn. She turned, and in a blink was gone through a doorway.

“Egypt, eh?” Madden said with a smile. “Always wanted to see the Pharaoh’s tombs.”

“Best hope it doesn’t become yours, too,” Tilly observed. “This isn’t over yet.”

 

***I will be giving at least one of Matt’s books away. Come back for G-L and leave a comment for a chance to win!!!***

 

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy TheArc Chronicles.

Matthew W Harrill lives in the idyllic South-West of England, nestled snugly in a village in the foothills of the Cotswolds. Born in 1976, he attended school in Bristol and received a degree in Geology from Southampton University. By day he plies his trade implementing shareplans for Xerox. By night he spends his time with his wife and four children. (and he writes sci-fi horror).

I have a delightful interview of Matt as well. He really is an interesting chap and his writing is to die for…

Chat with him on twitter @matt_harrill

You can find Matt on Amazon and will be glad that you did!!!

Some A to Zers I am enjoying today:

 

428.
433.
454.
rivrvlogr

Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)

mrswrangler

Thanks for following a cowgirl on her crazy life journey.

Maria Michaela Poetry

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. - Edgar Allan Poe

A Unique Title For Me

Hoping to make the world more beautiful

Writer Ravenclaw

Books by author Diana Coombes

Some View on the World

With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger

I Write Her

my humanity in written form

Reena Saxena

Experiments in Creative Writing, and more ....

michnavs

Poetry by Mich

Love13Reading

FOR READERS AND ASPIRING WRITERS

radhikasreflection

Everyday musings ....Life as I see it.......my space, my reflections and thoughts !!

The Children's and Teens' Book Connection

From Board Books to Clean YA

Trisha Faye

Cherishing the Past while Celebrating the Present

MOM AND IDEAS

FROM ONE PARENT TO ANOTHER

Therapy Bits

Living life with dissociative identity disorder and complex ptsd

Brizzy Mays Books and Bruschetta

Predominately Books But Other Stuff Too

Monty’s Blahg

Home of Monty Vern

Faith Builders with Philip and Michelle Steele

Building your faith and framing your world by the Word of God