Tag Archives: horror

American Demon Hunters: Washington, D.C.

Friends, fans, collection agencies: my novella with J. Thorn came out today — a twisted sort of horror story set in his “American Demon Hunters” universe. If you’ve ever played D&D with an obnoxious player, or gone to Friday Night Magic — smiling and ready for fun — only to get stuck playing a net-decking cheat, you might enjoy this:
American Demon Hunters: Washington D.C.:
demon
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The Broken Clock — Book 3 of the Deadlock Trilogy

broken_clockI’m super excited about the 3rd book in P.T. Hylton’s incredible Deadlock Trilogy. I’m also jealous of the cool cover, designed by Damonza.

I can’t say much about the book because I haven’t read it.  I’m waiting to read it until after my book 3 is published (July, hopefully). But that shouldn’t stop you from reading it — unless you haven’t read the other two. If that’s the problem, why not pick them up now and catch up? Then we can giggle and read book 3 around the same time.

 

 

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Filed under Awesome Indies

Found a great new podcast: Armcast Podcast with Armand Rosamilia

Ok, so I just started going back through Simon Whistler’s Rocking Self-Publishing podcast, listening to his shows again for lack of anything good to listen to, and heard mention of a new podcast by the very successful indie author Armand Rosamilia: Armcastpodcast.

Primarily a horror fiction podcast, his guests are indie authors and he talks about things indie authors want to hear about.  Episode #11 is particularly helpful for folks interested in the power of the sequel, and it reinforces some of the claims made by the Tattooed Writer in RSPP episode #57.

What a joy to have another great podcast to listen to.

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Another Awesome Indie: Harvey Click, author of “The Bad Box”

harvey_click

Harvey Click (possibly evil)

Please welcome the possibly evil Harvey Click to the Awesome Indies list, which is conveniently located on the left side of my blog.  Each book on that side represents the finest that indie publishing has to offer: great editing, superb writing, and a wonderful story.

As I was saying: Harvey Click might actually be evil.  He probably gasses his car up 6.66 gallons at a time, that’s how evil he might be. If you were to say “Harvey Click” in the mirror 100 times at midnight, on Halloween, nothing would happen because that’s just silly…but it would sure creep you out.

On the advice of Lindy Moone, I eventually got around to reading “The Bad Box.”  This novel, hands down, is one of the finest examples of the horror genre I’ve ever read.  It certainly stands toe-to-toe with a book I thought unassailable: The Exorcist (yes, the book by William Peter Blatty — read it, it’s great).

How about a closer comparison? “The Bad Box” is more like a Dean Koontz story in that it pits good people against irredeemable villains. It also has some of the most loveable and human characters I have yet to read in any book, regardless of genre.  Several times, I found myself misting up a teensy bit, which is a big deal for a hunky guy like me. It turned out to be something stuck in my eye, though, so I’m still cool.

bad_box

Let’s get back to the evil: the novel is dark. Very dark. But rather than relying on cheap thrills and/or legalized snuff (e.g., The Human Centipede), Click manages to expose the moral wasteland of what real evil actually is: ugly and sad and nothing more.

The book is not for kids, nor even kids at heart. It is dark literature with great depth, in a box, and it might just change you.

You’ve been warned.

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Filed under Awesome Indies, Reviews

Take a walk on the dark side of the street for change…grab it while it’s free.

Now that it’s available for Kindle, I’ll be buying it…

< < Here’s the link for Amazon > >

Dreaming...

Take a walk on the dark side of the street for change...grab it while it's free.

Unhinged
By Logan Keys

“Logan Keys takes you on a guided tour of the dark recesses of the human psyche. The writing is sharp and compelling, prodding you forward when your instincts are screaming “turn back” Author J Mathew Mckern
“Unhinged is a bleak foray into the Stygian depths of humanity’s nastier aspects.” Jim Adams

An assemblage of pure madness, Unhinged is a miasma quick fix for the horror junkie. Visceral and vicious, each morsel more disturbing than the last. Guaranteed to hijack your mind, these lost souls will stay with you long after the last page has been turned.

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Hopeless romantic? You decide…

Years ago, way before I wrote “Kick”, I went through a period where I published in the little known “horror/romance” genre (a.k.a, hormance).  I know what you’re thinking: why’s the surprisingly tough and rugged Monkmeister General writing spooky romance stories?  You’re gonna laugh, but the truth is, I have a sensitive side. Not a day goes by I don’t see a woman at my job and think, “Now that’s a nice blouse on that one.” Or maybe I’m out gardening, with my shirt off, and a bunch of ladies walk by and I’m all like, “How you ladies doing?”

Recently, I was going through some old boxes when I found a scrap from one of my hormance novels. Sadly, the book is no longer in print. But it got me wondering: has the time come for me to, again, unleash my hormance talents on the literary world?

As always, I leave these weighty decisions to you, my adoring fans…

Trixy Chestity goes to England (chapter 7):

Oh how I ran that night from my athletic lover Kent, high-tailing it down the darkened, foggy streets of that nameless, tiny English town the locals called Peppergrove Hampshireton. My footsteps pounded softly on the ancient cobbles that had once been trod by Napoleon himself during his bloodthirsty conquest of the British Isles so many years before… Oh how my bosoms bounced as I bounded down that ancient, bloody thoroughfare of English sorrow, weeping tears of unfettered despair into the unforgiving night.

“Damn you Kent, you bastard!” I simpered longingly, with my bosoms still heaving rancorously. “Damn you to hell!”

It was when I was shouting these profundities that a strangeness tainted the English air. Verily I slowed down and looked about in wonder, because the English fog had somehow gotten foggier than ever, and soon I couldn’t see the street nor even my bosoms.

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