fantasy

Angels Dark and Dumb on Barnes and Noble & Corner of Hell and Second Chances Preview

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Howdy all! It’s been a few weeks.

Got a collage for ya with Trisha the angel apprentice. I’m getting kinda irritated with Canva because it’s been buggy lately. Doesn’t like to remove backgrounds consistently and when you save the file, some images regain their background. So, I’m going to start using Photoshop exclusively because the images just come out better. I really need to do more videos too.

Anyway, I thought I’d mention that the first two books in Angels Dark and Dumb are now on Barnes & Noble. Follow the links to purchase Call for Obstruction and Warrant for Damnation. You can only get the paper version at the moment, but the eBook should be available soon.

I also finished the first chapter of Corner of Hell and Second Chances. I’m sure it will change a bit before the book is published, but I decided to include it here just for fun.

Corner of Hell and Second Chances

Chapter 1

I’d rather poke my eyes out than ride in another one of Satan’s transport vans, but here I am, sitting in the passenger seat beside my self-proclaimed babysitter. At least we’ve escaped southern Colorado and have made it halfway to Denver without being attacked by his evil forces.

My grip on the door handle tightens as Candy pushes the petal to the metal and weaves into the left lane to pass a semi-truck. The horn on the car she cut off speaks to what I already know—she’s an asshole. At least she is to me. While staring into the rearview mirror, she snarls and grunts. With short blond hair combed upward into a mohawk, camouflaged t-shirt and stretch pants, and spit-shined combat boots, she plays the role of psycho driver well.

Maybe she’s trying to wreck the van and take off my head, the easiest way to remove a Nephilim like me from Earth. But if she beheads herself, she’ll be in Hell’s refugee camp, guarding lost souls. My fate’s a million times worse than hers, considering the many warrants for damnation Satan has issued in my name, one of which is for accidentally helping my old demon boss plugging up one of the Gates of Hell that was nearly ready to open. Only one reason it’s insane for me to be in one of his vans.

Then again, after the last few days, the CEO of Hell should think twice before sucking me down to Hell. I’m half fallen angel and half Daughter of Light with the ability to absorb supernatural abilities from dark beings. Yesterday I stole half of my fallen angel father’s knowledge and otherworldly abilities, although I have no idea what sort of havoc I’m capable of reaping yet. I never know what I’ve poached from a demon until a circumstance calls its use, like when I spit fire in a guys face.

We reach the last exit to Monument, Colorado, marked by a blue sign covered with gas station and fast-food logos that tempt my hungry gut. “Get off at the next exit… Let’s pick up burgers.” I bounce in my seat and my head grazes against the ceiling. Sometimes it sucks to be nearly seven feet tall.

“Are you nuts? It’s bad enough Pete’s making us transport evil energy canisters to Denver. If Satan catches us with his property…” Candy shakes her head and wiggles in a seat too small for her massive ass. She’s right about not stopping, so I’m quick to let it go, but she’s not. “We will stay planted in this van until we reach the church drop off in Denver. Then I’m getting as far away as possible. Think about it. Evil energy that near a holy building and righteous humans could turn us into salt.”

“Yeah, fine,” I say snidely. “I didn’t want to do this anymore than you did. But with Margery buried up in the mountains, I agree with Pete. We couldn’t just leave five truckloads of evil energy at her Trinidad warehouse.”

“Pete may be in charge, but he hasn’t been making the best decisions since his demon reactivated.”

Last thing I want to do is trash Pete and his demon. He’s put up with a lot of my crap. And he and Boss have a long history, battling my father, Azael. “He’s doing the best he can under the circumstances. And think about what we were able the accomplish the last few days. Azael’s weakened, Margery’s out of the way, most of the skaks are dead or turned into white warriors—”

“Yeah, yeah, but you didn’t finish off Azael, did you? Now we have to search Denver for the Bastard, all because you couldn’t finish the job.”

Whatever, I think. But what else would I expect from a woman who thinks I’m the master of failure.

I lean over and unzip the gym bag near my feet to retrieve a box of Fruity Loopy cereal I snagged from the warehouse. Instead, my gut churns when I spy a cigar butt on the floorboard. I reach for it, careful to hold the ash end between the tip of my thumb and index finger, as if it might discharge poison. While dry heaving, I reflect on its owner, a conniving son of a bitch rightly condemned to guard Hell’s refugee camp. Slimeball helped set me up for closing the Gates of Hell.

I shove the chewed on mouth end between Candy’s lips.

“What the…? She slaps my hand. “Is that Vern’s?”

“Yeah.” Although I don’t know why she’d asking. We were assigned his old van and everything around us smells like a cross between cedar-scented cigars and old-man farts.

I jab her cheek, missing her mouth this time. “Is it like kissing him?”

This time she punches my arm. The van veers right and so do I, her freakish brute strength forcing my torso against the door and my head against the window. The cigar flies through the air and lands in her lap. She jumps in her seat, as if the cigar is still lit, mumbling every curse word in the book.

I laugh so hard, snot flies from my nose and hits the dashboard.

“Won’t think it’s so funny when I throw your ass out and make you walk to Denver.” Candy throws the butt back at me, then she points at the ninety-eight degrees, registering on the rear-view mirror. “See that temperature?”

“Damn, can’t you take a joke.” I brush my fingers through my mussy, curly hair.

She growls, jerks at the steering wheel, and focuses back on the road. “Take a nap.”

Instead, I reach in my bag and pull out the mini box of Fruity Loopy cereal. As I pull on the tab, Candy says, “Stop! Where’d you get that.” But she’s too late. I’ve already opened the box. A snake head’s peaks out, ready to strike. And he’s not alone.

Angels Dark and Dumb NOT on Vella

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Last week I mentioned that I was putting Angels Dark and Dumb on Vella, but they decided that the series doesn’t qualify despite my reading it should. Yes, I’m a bit bitter about the time lost… Okay, now I’m over it.

Good news is that I have been working on the first 20 pages of Corner of Hell and Second Chances and will share it here soon.

Otherwise, all I got is the collage with Barry’s father, Azael to show off.

Enjoy your week!

Angels Dark and Dumb Releasing on Kindle Vella

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Sharing one of my favorite horror collages. These were originally done to identify where to read horror, but I’ve decided to remove the banners and just go with the collages going forward. I like how the orange lady bugs create contrast in this one. Lately, I’ve been thinking of pairing these with a horror poem. I may have mentioned this already in a post a couple weeks ago. Then I look at my task list and laugh. Yeah, fit in yet another project. What am I nuts.

Angels Dark and Dumb News: I started releasing the series on Kindle Vella. It starts with Fall for Freedom and goes through the series from there. Click here to go to the series page and read.

Short and sweet this week. Have a great day!

Frank-n-Furter is Complete

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This is it for Ladies of Horror for awhile. Frank-n-Furter has brought me to the point I need a break from this style, although the characters in The Rocky Horror Picture Show could keep me busy with these for months. We’re planning on seeing the movie in the theater this year around Halloween. Can’t wait!

I really need to do something different. Something a bit more detailed. What shall I do? Feel free to request something. Otherwise, I have a million things to do on the list, so the fact that I’m wondering what to do is kinda insane.

Chugging forward on Corner of Hell and Second Chances. It was a hard start, and it felt like I was writing a novel for the first time. Once I started writing about Barry and Candy, it got easier. Really love that author/character relationship during the writing of the first draft.

Guess that’s all. Have a GREAT week!

Warrant for Damnation Cover Reveal

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Revealing the cover for Warrant for Damnation today. Special thanks again to Rebecca Treadway at Atrtink. Below is chapter 1 of the book.

ENJOY!

Who in his right mind goes home with a stranger he met on the highway like I did last night? Then again, it’s not the stupidest thing I’ve done over the past four days.

I peek outside the bedroom where I’ve tossed and turned the last few hours. At nearly five in the morning, the second-floor hallway is deserted. Perfect for a speedy getaway. But there’s no telling who or what lurks behind the oak doors that break up the flowery red-and-gold wallpaper.

On an ordinary workday, I’d rush off to my courier job for Hell. Yes, the literal Hell. Then I’d spend half my day pissing off my demon boss Margery, although not on purpose.

No work today though. As of yesterday, life is…complicated.

While I’m innocent, Margery managed to convince Satan that I sabotaged his plan to open the Gates of Hell. And God believes I sacrificed hundreds of His white warriors to get the job done. Worst of all, Margery’s Minotaurs took off with my friend Nina before we were able to escape together.

Floorboards creak under my skater shoes as I duck into the hallway, my messy brown curls brushing under the doorframe. The smell of pancakes rises from the first floor and awakens my senses in a bad way. Fruity flavored cereal and gin are more my breakfast of champions, but it doesn’t matter. No time to eat. I’ve got to sneak out and save Nina from the seven levels of misery that Margery’s likely inflicting on her.

A doorknob clicks to my left.

Damn!

Pete exits a bedroom with a smile. “Morning, Barry. Able to sleep?”

He’s the stranger who brought me to this old farmhouse, and he’ll try to convince me to stay. Pete professes to be a miracle worker for the Catholic Church and can smooth things over with God. He’s also promised to nullify my contract with Satan and provide protection against Hell’s bounty hunters. Boy, I want to believe him, but the mosh pit of butterflies in my stomach warn to trust no one.

My grip tightens on the wood-carved railing. Get out. Find Nina.

On impulse, my feet take off, descending the stairs at hyper-speed, as if I’m The Flash in the comic book series. Unable to control this ability attained during a trip to Hell’s refugee camp, all I can do is tuck and go into a double somersault to put on the brakes. I land on something rigid at the bottom of the staircase, pain erupting in my ribs.

“Damn!” I shiver at the sight of a wooden shard from the broken coat rack piercing my t-shirt and torso at my side. I grit my teeth, grab the protruding spike, and yank. Cupping the gash is no help. Bright red blood oozes between my fingers and drips onto my baggy jeans.

Seems everything I do lately turns to shit or a fountain of gore.

Pete descends to the first floor, my body twitching with each heavy step of his cowboy boots. He’s more wrinkled than I remember. Maybe his jet-black pompadour concealed his age.

He sweeps back his tan tweed jacket and slides a thumb into the front pocket of his jeans. The way he dresses, the guy could be a cowboy professor.

“I’d ask how you feel,” he says, “but that wound is answer enough.”

While struggling to pick up my glasses and stand on unsteady legs, I clench my jaw tighter and suck air between my teeth.

“Hold on, Barry.” Pete skips down the last few steps. “Let me help.”

Still clutching my ribs, I recoil, suspicious of anything he’s offering. “It’ll heal in a few minutes.”

“Let’s at least get you tidied up,” he says, “and into clean clothes.”

“Thanks, but no time.” I face the front door, decorated with panes of yellow-stained glass. “Besides, I shouldn’t be here. I have to find Nina before Margery turns her into a demon chew toy.” My gaze drops, knowing what a gutless loser I am for leaving her behind.

“Two seconds outside and you’ll have Hell’s bounty hunters fighting to take you in for closing the hellhole. At least stick around long enough to break your contract with Satan. They won’t be able to track you.”

“You saw me move. I’m too fast to catch.”

“But not very coordinated.” He lifts an eyebrow and half grins.

After a brief pause, I sidestep toward the door.

“Nina’s fine.” Pete pulls a cell phone from his blazer pocket. “Oscar’s keeping an eye on her at the warehouse. Call him. He’ll let you talk to her.”

“He hates me, not to mention he’s Margery’s lackey.”

“Like I told you. Oscar’s a double agent. He’s been feeding me information for years and has always been reliable.” Pete waves the phone. “Go ahead. His number’s the last incoming call.”

I blow out a long sigh, reach for the cell, and grasp it with blood-soaked fingers. Instead of contacting Oscar, I flip through the call log and find the names of people close to me. I glare at Pete, feeling more guarded than ever. “Why’ve you been talking to my mother and Father Timothy?”

“She’s worried…” he stutters. “They’re worried, Barry, and I’ve been watching—”

“Watching Margery take my soul and turn me into a wanted man.”

“Remember last night, when I mentioned Margery blamed me for closing the Gates of Hell the year you were born? I understand what you’re going through. It’s why you should stay. Barry, please, there’s so much more you need to know.”

The phone slips out of my hand and falls to the floor. My only thought, No one can be trusted, not even Mom. I’m out the door at hyper-speed, my side erupting with pain.