Welp, there’s a first time for everything, and today I received my first video review by Thea Gregory, the author of Zombie Bedtime Stories. Thea’s been a part of my Twitter community for some time, but I gotta say, it was a surprise to see her cover my book on her YouTube channel. Check it out the review to the right, and when you’re done, watch her other reviews – especially if you’re a fan of the walking dead!
And in other news, Bone Wires is just about finished – it’s serialization will be complete later this month, which means it’ll be published by Curiosity Quills later on in the year. I’m assuming it’ll be out this summer to go along with Redeye, which is ALSO just about finished (finally!) and so that’ll be two summertime novels for people to feast upon. There’s tons more where that’s coming from, dear readers, so worry not – the latter half of the year may yet yield even more horrors from yours truly. Stay tuned!
For you people waiting for Redeye, a little snippet:
By the time they were halfway across the parking lot, however, it was clear that they were running out of energy and speed. Bobbi’s leg was screaming again; it had remembered the jolt it had gotten from the nerve crusher, and now the muscles were trembling as if it had happened all over again. Her face burned as well, and she felt blood running down the side of it. Her eye was swelling shut and her lungs burned with the fires of exertion. Violet was hardly in any shape to be running around all over the place, either. As they charged toward the edge of the parking lot, the skinny ghoul of a woman in the lead and behind her a wave of hooting monsters, Bobbi wondered if this was going to be the end for her.
Bobbi pulled herself up on one arm. Her leg was numb now, and it wasn’t getting any better. “My leg isn’t working,” she said through gritted teeth; pain lanced through her face and shoulder. She reached out and found her crusher, but the charge light was flashing red. No juice. Little ammo. How many were there, the ferals that rushed across the blacktop toward them? Fifteen? Twenty? Violet’s shooting brought one down, then another – still they came, undaunted, and Bobbi knew that was all for them. “Better save two of those rounds for the both of us, or at least one for me. You go.”
This was how it was going to go. Bobbi felt something new, hot and liquid on her fact – tears, she realized, not blood. They were coming as if in slow motion, moving through the water that reality had suddenly become – and she could see them, every detail and line, as if they were high-definition images conjured into being from some heavenly holographic projector above. Here came the death scene, she knew. The end of her movie. The end of Violet’s. She wondered if it was going to hurt. She wondered where Tom was. She wished he was here to save her again, or at least to hold her hand.
What do you think? Does she get it in the neck? WHO CAN SAY.
I’ve recently gotten some comments from readers that they really don’t know much about me beyond my writing. Well, it’s not like I’m able to blog worth a damn, so the ‘find out what unfolds with each regular post’ approach isn’t working. So here are some general facts about me, in no particular order of importance or classification.
I was born in southern West Virginia, down in a very coal-heavy region of a state which is basically the Wales of America where that mineral is concerned.
My family life was very good growing up. It still is. Outside of that, however, growing up was fairly hellish. A smart kid in a rural area who demonstrates outward displays of intelligence and sensitivity apparently gets picked on and gang-beaten. Who knew? Oh, right. But yeah, that’s how it went. The themes of isolation and social disassociation in my books come from this. Always the outsider.
I’ve been with my wife for nearly six years, married for less than six months. Love of my life, hands down, though sometimes bane of my existence (as all marriages tend to go). I think I might damage her permanently at some point with all the times my misadventures make her roll her eyes.
I am currently 33 years old. Despite this, I have way too much silver in my hair – but my wife loves it so I’m not going to bitch too hard about it. I WILL bitch about the fact I don’t have nearly enough hair to speak of, however.
I love science fiction. I’ve always been drawn to darker, gritter science fiction, the sort of setting which will have an underbelly which doesn’t gleam and glitter. The same for fantasy as well.
I also love horror, though I will admit that the trend toward torture-porn really disturbs me. Horror is a psychological thing; people getting cut up or otherwise damaged on-screen, without context, is in my opinion an exercise in futility.
I don’t believe in utopia in any form or fashion. I do not believe that human beings can truly operate in one. We’re just not wired for it; I just don’t think human beings can be happy unless there’s something to bitch about. If we as a species suddenly found ourselves in a utopian environment, we’d fuck it up entirely. There’s a reason most people consider paradise achievable only when we die.
I am a staunch transhumanist. The moment augmentative technology of any sort goes live and I can afford it, I am so getting the gizmos implanted. I completely understand people who don’t go in for that sort of thing, but I reject the notion that merging yourself with one device or another somehow surgically removes your humanity. Ask friends or family who have some form of prosthesis or another if they feel they’re any less human with them, see what kind of response you get.
I regularly run into the strangest people on the Metro (subway) here in DC. Usually it involves conflict of some kind or another. My wife’s concerned that I’m going to get knifed. I’ll try and tone it down, though I’ve never been attacked or threatened.
I have, however, been attacked and/or threatened by lesser primates (specifically chimpanzees) no less then four times. Our evolutionary cousins seem to have a hate on for me.
I don’t believe in abstinence-only education. Kids don’t ‘just say no’, they say ‘hell YES’, and it’s ridiculous to assume otherwise. Mitigation over denial is what puts teenagers on a proper path, in my opinion.
My current day job is doing the webs. I design, develop, and maintain websites and web architecture for a fairly sizable nonprofit local to DC. I can see the Capitol from here. I have managed to piss off no less than three congressmen while working there. I give no fucks.
Politically, I’m a centrist – which, oddly enough, doesn’t mean I don’t have political principles like many people seem to think these days. It just means I don’t let my political principles get in the way of what might be right for the country at any given time.
I’ve followed a vegan diet from time to time. I didn’t get any special powers from it, damn that Todd Ingram, but I did like being able to have pizza a lot. Also, almond milk is fucking awesome.
I believe in sexual equality. Just because your religion doesn’t agree with it doesn’t mean you get to restrict where someone’s dick/tongue/whatever goes. Same for marriage, though I can at least see where people might land on that issue. Doesn’t make ‘em right.
I love the vidya gaems. I was raised on ‘em since I was born, after all.
I also love roleplaying games of all stripes.
Furthermore, I love tabletop wargames. WFB/WH40K especially. My wife likes that I drop money on models and not beer and strippers. This is mostly because I got the latter two out of my system way before I met her.
Wil Wheaton is my co-pilot. Never got into Big Bang Theory, though.
I believe in the kind of freedom that doesn’t need a commercial or a soundtrack. Or a flag, come to that.
So yeah. There’s some bits and bobs for you. Comment away.
As an agent of the Industrial Security Bureau, it is Thomas Walken’s duty to keep the city of Seattle free of black-market technology. But when a trio of living sex-dolls he has recently intercepted are stolen from custody, Walken finds himself seeking a great deal more than just contraband; he will be forced to use his skills and preternatural instincts to try and keep his career, his freedom, and his life.
