I’m currently working on revisions to the first draft of my new novel.
“Living the Dream” (Working Title)
A supernatural thriller.
Derek has been having visions. They started as nightmares—shadowy forms watching him from the darkness—but lately they’ve been following him everywhere and it’s getting to the point where he can no longer believe his own eyes.
Looking for help, he’s approached by a secretive government agency, making vague promises and offering few answers. He’s not sure what scares him more, but, as the beings become more aggressive and his nine year old daughter starts to mention some familiar symptoms, he’s left wondering what choice he has.
Cut off from his familiar life and pulled into a world of intrigue and deceit. He’ll have to use everything he’s got, if he wants to learn the truth behind his experiences, while his family—on the outside—fight for some answers of their own. Will Derek be able to save himself and his daughter before the visions get the better of him?
Below are some brief descriptions and excerpts from a number of short stories I’ve written. In the future, I may provide links here making the stories freely available but, for now, due to ‘rights’ issues, they will have to stay as teasers. I’ll let you know if that changes.
Since his wife left him, Martin has had a tough time adjusting to living alone. He’s even started seeing some strange things crawling around his neighborhood, seemingly undetectable by anyone but him. Maybe we’re all not as alone as we think.
“The receptionist, an attractive young woman with hazel eyes and a pony tail full of dark brown hair, was clacking away at her keyboard, while a dark green blob—almost black—glistening in the fluorescent lights, crawled down her right temple, made a left turn at her cheekbone and started inching toward her mouth. It was a fat one, maybe the size of his own thumb.”
Lost in the Details
Working downtown, it was nothing new for Dan to run into people on the street who were—let’s say—a few pancakes short of a stack. After his encounter with the jogger, though, and his cryptic comments, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to it, some nagging idea that refused to be ignored.
“Behind his eyelids, in the vast emptiness, he saw it. Turning and clicking and shifting and locking, like a prismatic fragment of impossible geometric machinery unfolding from a single point in space, evolving into something much larger and infinitely more complex. He couldn’t understand what he was seeing. It was like a puzzle solving itself as it unpacked outward into his mind.”
The Last Stop
A man finds a strange story saved on his laptop computer. A story that claims he wrote it himself, about a subway ride home from work where he gets off at the wrong station and can’t seem to get back on track.
“At first glance, it looked like my stop, but the tiled walls, normally gleaming white under the fluorescent lights, were dull and even blackened in a few areas. Long hairline fractures crept across the concrete floor, some converging into patches where it broke apart into tiny chips. And of course there was the sign, the one that should have read “Alderwood” but didn’t. I’d never heard of an Everett Street Station. In fact, I’d never even heard of an Everett Street.”
Interruption in Service
“And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.” It’s a famous quote, and there seems to be no consensus on who came up with it. One thing is for sure though, it wasn’t Eddie Brant. Not big on ambition, he preferred to follow the path of least resistance. He was able to maintain a minimum level of existence for quite some time, until one day when he received a strange and threatening letter by registered mail.
“Our records show that, for a period of several years, you have made no significant contributions to the betterment of yourself or society at large, and your account has fallen into serious arrears. Consequently, your file has been referred to our collections department and we require that you call our offices within 24 hours so that we can make immediate arrangements to correct this severe negative balance. Failure to do so will result in an interruption in service as well as possible collection activity.”
Looking back at being a kid, it’s easy to mourn the loss of those innocent and carefree days. Remember though, that time came with its own set of worries and problems. In Justin’s case, his pet fish kept disappearing and he had a feeling that the little men hiding out in the castle at the bottom of his aquarium might know something about it. Either way, his new fish won’t make such an easy target.
“He often wondered about how they got in there. One year, for his birthday, he got a pack of sea monkeys. They came in a little packet, like seeds. All you had to do was dump them into the water, mix in the food, and a few days later, you could see the little creatures swimming around. These little men didn’t look anything like the sea monkeys, but maybe some different type of seeds got into the castle. Maybe they were sitting next to each other on a shelf at the pet store. It seemed unlikely but, in Justin’s experience, unlikely things seemed to happen all the time.”
For centuries there have been tales of a huge and terrifying black dog, roaming the countryside. To see it—as the myth goes—is an omen of one’s own death. Dave hadn’t heard those stories though and, nearing the end of his shift, he was just looking to hook up the phone line on this broken down house and head home for the night, if only he could find the owner.
“He closed the door and swept the small flashlight across the room. Millions of tiny dust particles swirled around in the air through its dull yellow glow. The house seemed empty, there was little furniture and only a few odds and ends scattered around. The air was stuffy and damp, smelling like a cave in which some wild animal had been sleeping.”
When You Gotta’ Go…
Oh, hello kiddies! Like most people, our friend James had never killed anyone before. It wasn’t something he wanted, but sometimes people just leave you with no choice. An isolated cottage in the woods, a bag of lime, and an old outhouse provide him with all he needs to put an end to some “grave” problems he’s been facing. Or so he thinks anyway.
“He grabbed the legs, lifted them over the seat and shoved. There was a wet smacking sound as the body hit the bottom of the pit. For a moment James had to fight hard to keep from vomiting again. He went outside for a few deep breaths. Sick and exhausted, he wanted to go back to the cottage and lay down but the reality of the situation was beginning to set in, and he wanted to get everything cleaned up while he still had the stomach for it.”