Updates and Other Things

Hey, Folks.

I thought I’d do some updates of what is slated to come out for the Summer and rest of the year. What does that entail? Let’s list it out!

  • The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal in all formats.

This means paperback, hardcover, and digital. Digital will be up first and priced at $2.99 on Amazon and right here at home. Purchase links will be available two weeks before widespread public release on A.B.Normal Publishing. Print editions will follow simultaneous of the Kindle release.

  • The Conclusion of Johnny Nightwalker

This story will be wrapped up soon. We can then wave goodbye to one of our suburban heroes for good…or maybe not. Who knows?

  • Lynaly’s Requiem

The Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle prequel is being edited, and well, I want to do more additions to it. That’s the beauty of working on something you love (and when it’s in your hands). The Lodestone Files and Abnormal Side Effects…those will be retouched (or remastered) with extras. More on that below.

Anyway, I will release this novella at $0.99 when it is finished. Spring/Summer 2018 release pending extra curricular activity. There will be a new edition where both stories (Lynaly & Lilah’s) are as they were supposed to be… One.

There will be a new edition where both stories (Lynaly & Lilah’s) are as they were supposed to be… One.

This, in turn, will lead to the planned special edition of Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle. It will include the uncut version of Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle, the bits here and there that were cut, and what Al and I had called “The Lilah Bible.” It probably isn’t anything substantial, but I like creating things for everyone to see and enjoy. This edition will also include the novella about Lynaly and a bonus chapter from the next book.

  • Dana and Walter’s Adventures aka The Dana and Walter Files: The Untold Stories of New Boston and Middleton

This title is just a placeholder. Ode to Captain Placeholder. Fare thee well.

Anyway, I have a miniseries that will be first written online about the favorable detective duo—Walter and Dana.

Depending on the size, it may just be a novella or novel. It could also just be an anthology. It could be any size I’d want it to be really…but hmm…well you know.

  • The Lodestone Files: The Cat, The Mouse, and The Thing from Another World

I completed this last year… It was available on the site, but I didn’t get a cover done up. Well, that’s gonna change, and it’ll be available for sale, etc., Soon.

  • The Lodestone Files: Books Three and Four

Yep. There are four parts. The last two will be quick follow ups, and the series will be concluded.

As a bonus to the fun that was involved in the process…there will be a short story that I have drafted up from another location that takes place within the Lodestone universe.

Eventually, all four titles will be put in a neat little collection in all formats for you to enjoy. These were designed (unintentionally, but kind of so) to be quick reads. The super group will be pretty sweet (at least I think so—that is, in my opinion).

  • Abnormal Side Effects Redux

This title will get some TLC loving because it needs to. There will be a cover overhaul, a few more stories added.

  • Abnormal Essential Collection

Originally, this was what Abnormal Side Effects was going to be. However, this is going to have EVERYTHING. What do I mean by everything? It’s one of those…greatest hits kind of deals.

It will have The Lodestone FilesLilah’s Guide to HoyleAbnormal Side Effects, more stories, poems, and more extras. It will be a little black book with red font. No. Seriously.

  • MORE COMING!

Trust me. A lot is coming out.

Like what?

Book’s three and four for Lilah, Dana, Walter…everyone.

Bud Berkman’s premier.

Super-ultra-omega 600+ page sci-fi post-apocalyptic epic.

Sinclair Gets His Rolex, which is my superhero title [This is done by the way].

The next chapters of The Mysterious Stranger.

Last but not least…MORE BEAR GOD!

I’ll also be wrapping up some other stories, both long and short. It’s going to be only getting busier with balls going everywhere.

I hope you all enjoy this tidbit of what’s coming up and what’s in store for you.

I wish you all a s’good day/night.

Until next time,

RJM

 

Note: If you or someone you know is interested in being a guest blogger or contributor, please feel free to email me: mrsincados@abnormalpublishing.com with “Guest Blogger” or “Guest Contributor” as the subject.
This was originally published on www.abnormalpublishing.com by Robert J. S. T. McCartney.

Announcing “Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle” Free July 21 — July 24th

Hey, folks.

Next week [July 21 — July 24] you can get the urban fantasy novel, Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle for free in the Kindle store.

In the USA? Free. UK? Free! Mexico? Italy? Germany? FREE. It’s free for all to enjoy (or even hate! …but you can reach that decision on your own).

If you’re a Kindle Unlimited subscriber, then great news, everyone! You can already grab a Kindle copy for free.

Don’t miss out on an enjoyable reading experience.


“All life is a gamble . . . We go to sleep every night comfortably betting that the next day we’ll wake up.”

Deluxe cover for "Lilah's Guide to Hoyle."

“All life is a gamble… We go to sleep every night comfortably betting that the next day we’ll wake up.”

Demons. Sorcery. Magical playing cards. It’s anything but a fairy tale. Armed with her choice deck, her beloved book, Hoyle’s Guide to Poker and Parlor Tricks, and the skill that led her to throw away her college fund, Lilah gambles with her life—and with the lives of those around her.

Elsewhere, other players have a different idea of the rules of the game. And investigating the bizarre chain of events is Middleton PD’s finest, Detectives Dana Deupree and Walter Conway.

It’s anyone’s game. The cards have been shuffled and the stakes are high. The call has gone around the table. Others may fold, but not Lilah. She plays for keeps.

What will you wager? Will you call? Stand? Or will you fold?


Be sure to get in on the action… for a limited time!

July 21 — July 24, 2017

Until next time,

RJM

Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle — UK Promo

Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle

The urban fantasy novel, Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle is now available for purchase. Hardcovers will be arriving soon.


LILAH’S GUIDE TO HOYLE

Deluxe cover for

“Black Thirteen, boys. This is where we part!”


Description:

“All life is a gamble . . . We go to sleep every night comfortably betting that the next day we’ll wake up.”

Demons. Sorcery. Magical playing cards. It’s anything but a fairy tale. Armed with her choice deck, her beloved book, Hoyle’s Guide to Poker and Parlor Tricks, and the skill that led her to throw away her college fund, Lilah gambles with her life—and with the lives of those around her.

Elsewhere, other players have a different idea of the rules of the game. And investigating the bizarre chain of events is Middleton PD’s finest, Detectives Dana Deupree and Walter Conway.

It’s anyone’s game. The cards have been shuffled and the stakes are high. The call has gone around the table. Others may fold, but not Lilah. She plays for keeps.

What will you wager? Will you call? Stand? Or will you fold?

Amazon Kindle:

US UK DE FR ES IT NL JP BR CA MX AU IN

Paperback: Amazon Createspace

Hardcover: COMING SOON


It’s been a fantastic ride and I am pleased to share this story with everyone. By all means, this is one of the many stories to be told…so stay tuned.

The Final Countdown! Last Excerpt of Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle.

LilahsHoyle3D (1)

I know I haven’t posted a blog post much “here” as I have over on A.B.Normal Publishing. I’ve been busy doing some other short stories, and getting outlines done, while making sure everything is ready for the Kickstarter for Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle.

I wanted to share the final raw excerpt before it goes through ch-ch-changes and gets red inked to death. So, here you go!


Dana flipped through the newspaper, sighing at the uninteresting articles. Another tragedy? The whole goddamn world is a tragedy. Give me something worth reading on this goddamn toilet paper. The rain beat angrily on the car, as rhythmically as a tribal ceremony, with the flashes of lightning here and there, painting the various gray-streaked sky. Dana leaned forward, looking up towards the heavens through the windshield of the car, noting the giant blobs that pooled together and were then swept away clean by the windshield wipers. He sighed again and let himself collapse back into the car seat. He looked over to his left, waiting for Walter to come out from the coffee shop. Goddamn it, Walter! What the hell are you doing, ordering the whole damn store? Dana rubbed his forehead and glanced back up to see Walter scurrying in the rain to the car. Walter opened the driver’s side door and got in, handing a warm paper coffee container to Dana; setting down a white and brown paper bag beside himself, placing his jumbo coffee cup in the cup holder. Walter buckled his seatbelt, giddy as a schoolgirl. Licking his lips, he reached for his ‘goody bag.’ “Don’t eat it all in one sitting now, Walt.” Dana jokingly jabbed Walter.

Walter sighed and slowly drifted his gaze at Dana, annoyed, “Are you seriously going to do that, every damn time I get a few doughnuts? I mean c’mon Dana.”

Dana snickered at Walter, “Easy, Walter, easy.I’m just pulling your leg, Walt. Don’t go having a coronary on me.”

Walter mumbled something incoherently about a ‘third leg’ as he reached into the paper bag, and grabbed a giant frosted raspberry jelly doughnut. He eyed it, having already turned ‘ignore Dana mode’ on, and then took a massive bite from it. “Mmm, this one, mmm, man, it’s so great.” Walter licked his lips, catching bits and pieces of jelly.

Dana shook his head at the sight of his partner’s eating matters. “Walt, use a damn napkin man. God, you are acting like a dog.”

“Yeah, well, at least I’m housebroken,” Walter mumbled, to which Dana grinned.


I hope you all join me in helping raise the necessary funds to get Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle out in your hands, and the hands of folks around the globe.

See you all Tuesday!

RJM

The New Boston and Middleton, MA. Investigations: Retribution

"Shopping Carts" Photo by Dan4th Nicholas. Dan4th Nicholas has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

Photo by Dan4th Nicholas. Dan4th Nicholas has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

The New Boston and Middleton, MA Investigations: Retribution

[Roland]

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney


His gaze fell upon his reflection in the red pick-up truck’s rearview mirror. Sweat beaded on his dark brow. A pair of bright verdant eyes flickered with each hesitant blink; shifting from the outside world back to the confines of the driver’s seat. Silvered hair with sparse strands of black peppered the man’s scalp. His clean-shaven face was wrinkled with the creases of age and told of a long line of police experience, a veteran—married to no one (not anymore) but to the force, and was seeking justice.

He closed his eyes and prepared himself for what was about to unfold. As he opened them, he saw the last of the few on the list wander into the supermarket.

Well, here we go.

He wagered a glance at the discarded Middleton Police badge: Roland Johnson. The name was hardly visible anymore, scuffed, scratched, battered, and broken. He grunted as he leaned over to open the glove box. and retrieve his Smith & Wesson .44 Magnum revolver* from its resting grounds. He inconspicuously glanced around to make sure no one was watching—save for the possibility of the security cameras, but that didn’t matter. He stepped outside and closed the driver’s door behind him.

There’s no turning back now. You gotta hold it together Roland. It’s just better this way.

He took in a few heavy breaths and adjusted his long sandy brown overcoat. Underneath, his black attire laid hidden (save for his black dress shoes and slacks that peeked out with each step) and the secrets of a plan that no one knew—except for the one piece of paper that was left behind to a friend. He was a good friend and a hell of a good cop.

They’ll never understand, but I sure hope you do, Dana.

His face was beginning to show the strain of his plan. His sweat became tainted with uneasiness. It befouled the once good man and began to soak and elaborate the coaxed mask. He fixed his holster under his coat and continued with his stride of redemption and retribution.

He wrinkled his brow under the bright golden eye that loomed up high above. A swift gust of wind of the summer day cut into him, ruffling the short hair of the man. He couldn’t help but glance up at the sky: pure azure, with not a single cloud in the sky. It was the last bit of bliss he could afford.

Inside, footsteps paraded about—marching to and from the marketplace. Roland’s eyes watched everyone as he made his way in, with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Hello, sir. Good afternoon.” A soft, grandmotherly voice peeped from the short cotton-tipped elderly woman, as she greeted customers that wandered in, and said goodbye as they left. Her gray eyes hinted with a smile, but under the stress of the wrinkles and the knowing of how hard the economy was—he didn’t know if it was true or just another piss poor excuse to make a buck. Either way, he gave a nod to the elder, and flashed a brief smile, while hurrying past. She wasn’t his intention, none of the other people were.

The marketplace had sprawled since the last time he’d seen it. The produce had more than doubled, with rows upon rows of fresh fruits and vegetables that formed makeshift barricades.

Just like cattle. Herding all of us.

The produce adjoined the deli and bakery, while the back end of the bakery met with the meat and frozen foods departments. The place seemed to measure for hundreds of yards. His eyes lazily drifted off towards the general merchandise side of the store. He shook his head to disregard the notion, and to maintain focus on his objective. His eyes continued to scan around, searching for the few that he had told to meet at the designated location. A group of familiar people all shuffled about the produce section. Some were making eye contact with one another, while some were uncertain of the meaning behind this escapade, looking about as to who summoned them all.

There were six in all—save for the unannounced guest of honor. Roland’s eyes recounted each one, his mind pulling the folder for each person.

Charles Deveau, 46, White male, 6′ 4”, 330 lbs. A child predator. Thus far, he has attacked 32 children; both male and female. He has a connection with the police department. I have a hunch on who. The pattern as of late has been irregular. He has been on a four-day hiatus, due to suspicious activity. Detective’s Conway and Deupree have been tracking. It’s too long to wait. He’ll strike again soon. I know it.

Huey Porter, 52, White male, 5′ 9”, 140 lbs. Terminal Lung Cancer. Carries an oxygen tank. He commits small time acts to try and be killed via cop suicide. He has taken out a $500,000 life insurance policy, with the children as beneficiaries. He’s tried everything. I feel for the guy. I’ve been a friend of his for 30 years. This method is the only way I can help.

Terra Lhangley, 36, White female, 5′ 4”, 120 lbs. She is a chronic nymphomaniac; spreading HIV and AIDS to partners, and never tells them. To date, she has infected over 230 individuals and their partners—and the number continues to grow. Most have taken their lives or committed acts of violence, or further, spread the disease.

Michael Stevens, 45, Black male, 6′ 4”, 171 lbs. Michael has an obsession of stealing. He’s stolen almost everything: electronics, cars, etc. He’s also taken the homes of his victims. A class A+ fraudster, he’s gone up—rather down—to stealing the lives of those in his path. He’s claimed 19 lives; rerouting all monetary gain, and removed any and all links to any of the victims.

Benjamin Clarence, 79, White male, 5′ 6”, 156 lbs. a.k.a. “Bennie the Nipple Ripper.” Preys on females that wander alone at night, or in desolate areas. Has a fetish for removing the nipples of his sexually assaulted victims. Sometimes changes from clean removal with a knife or blade to a cheese grater. Has confessed to…taking delight in consuming the leftovers. It could be months for him to go on trial. Ben has posted bail and was garnished a favor from the same connection as Deveau.

Tiffany Kruger, 29, Black female, 5′ 3”, 113 lbs. Murdered her family, and is reaping all the benefits. All plausible evidence she had attempted to destroy. Detectives Conway and Deupree have some remainder of proof. I have what is leftover in my safe. Was placed on bail, and has since been posted. I’m not letting her get away that easy.

Anita Dalton (formerly Timothy Diego), 36, Hispanic female, 5′ 3”, 114 lbs. Transgender; Tim is accused of butchering his family, selling the body parts to black market buyers. With these proceeds, he funded his gender change operation. Also preys on unsuspecting men on dates, prostitution, and has a fetish with removing the penis and testicles. She needs to be stopped—permanently.

He opened his eyes. They were all here. They had all showed up, just as he had planned. He could see them starting to intermingle with one another now. He knew he had to act fast. Now.

I don’t want any of them to escape.

Roland’s right hand slid into his inner coat pocket and removed a dull pewter cigarette case. He pulled out the last cigarette and brought it up to his dry lips. His left hand searched another pocket and found a silvered zippo. He brought it up in a swift, fluid motion, lighting the hairs of the cigarette. He inhaled deep and closed his eyes—savoring the moment. He foretold of how the events were going to unfold. His moment of foresight was interrupted by a supermarket employee.

The deep voice stirred him. “Sir, you can’t smoke in here! Please, extinguish it, or go outside.”

Roland frowned, his eyes still closed.

He sighed. “I am going to say this once—go call the police. Tell them…six people have been murdered here.” Roland slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at the ceiling of the supermarket—observing it’s rather dull almond fixtures, pipes, and lines that sprawled everywhere.

The male employee began to get hysterical. “Wha—what do you mean? Murder? What murder?”

“It’s alright…just stay calm…and go call the police.” Roland’s gaze drifted down, scanning over all the people. “It’s for the greater good.”

The employee mumbled, “The greater good?” as he scurried off in haste, leaving Roland to smirk to himself.

He started to walk towards the group on his list. They all looked at him, locking eyes, one by one. Some eyes were in such a demonic twist, while others dealt in bloodshed, while the last was sad, in pain…pitiful.

“Who the hell are you?” Tiffany remarked the question pressing—drilling for an answer.

Roland smiled, “Just the man who posted your bail.”

“Really now? I don’t suppose you posted mine too?” Anita cocked her hip, her lips cracked to a crooked grin.

“Why, yes. In fact, I posted everyone’s.” Roland began to pace, his hands behind him. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, I’ve gathered you all here for a significant undertaking. You’re all in grave danger, and we need to remedy that situation. So, it’s imperative that we decide…” he stopped with his back to them all, “which one of you will be the first to die.”

All of their looks changed to such mixed annotations: anger, horror, absolute shock, except for Huey.

“Roland, please. . .” Huey whispered among the group.

“Huey, yours shall be merciful. No matter whether you are first, or the last.” Roland assured.

“Roland?! You’re that stalking, no good, piece of shit cop! Ho ho, oh no! No! Nuh uh, there ain’t no fucking way I will not be dying to some has-been, who’s been intent on making MY LIFE a living hell!” Charles rebuked, and started to storm towards Roland.

Roland turned around, and in an amazing display, withdrew his gun of righteousness; his coat unfurled, and twirled, much like the dramatic performance of an old Western shootout.

It was long past that now, Roland had already decided the order. The people around in the market hadn’t even caught on to the public execution in progress. Maybe it was better that they saw what happened to criminals in public.

A thunderous roar rang out within the store, and to that end, Charles laid crumpled and discarded on the glossy almond tile, next to the display of onions. Horror and shock remained on his face. Just like those whom he assaulted. Blood poured from the back of his skull onto the tile. Roland aimed at the next one—Terra. The shots started to become quicker, more precise, and more humane—perhaps too humane. One by one they began to fall: Terra, Tiffany—they even tried to run! He fired upon their malicious heads, sending their evil souls to Hell. Anita jumped over a display of assorted peppers attempting to spare a moment. People rushed for the exit, the march of a thousand terrified souls.

“Hiding won’t save you. Nothing can.” He slowly walked behind the display, crouching. “Give the devil my regards.” Anita’s eyes widened, her instinct forced her erect to try and run. It was too late. Her body dropped and slid across the tile, colliding into the base of a meat display. He turned his arm towards the oncoming shadow. “Eager, aren’t we?” He shot a round through Benjamin’s skull, dropping him.

Michael had tried to run but saw it was inevitable. The mighty hawk’s gaze fell upon him now. He clung to Huey, hiding behind the decrepit old man.

“Y—you wouldn’t shoot your friend would you?!” He cried behind the smiling frail man.

“You’re pathetic…hiding behind a dying man.” Roland slowly approached the remaining two. “My friend…I am sorry it couldn’t have ended another way.”

Huey’s smile grew. “It is better this way. Everything’s in place. I just ask I be the last.”

“You’re fucking crazy man, fucking crazy! You’d kill your own friend?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Michael shrieked.

Roland nodded, “So be it.” With a quick draw and sheer precision, he fired at Michael’s head. Michael collapsed behind Huey, clinging to his oxygen tank.

Roland approached Huey. “Thank you.” The two shook hands, then hugged. Best of friends until the end.

Huey knelt before Roland, while Roland had closed his eyes. “Goodbye…old friend.”

His finger was hesitant at first. And then a gunshot thundered from within the store, followed by the warm caress of blood that splattered against him. He opened his eyes slowly to see Huey sprawled in a bloody mess with that bright smile still on his face.

Outside, squad cars had surrounded the building. Red, white, and blue patriotically waltzed in the parking lot. The armed men and women of the law all drew their weapons towards the doors. Two familiar men stood out there with distraught looks on their faces. Roland knew them well.

Dana…Walter…

Dana and Walter were veterans like him, while the pair were up and comers in the Homicide division. Dana—thin, with a broad square face, dark hair, and pale blue eyes. While Walter was slightly overweight, with salt and peppered hair, green eyes, and square glasses…he was considered a god amongst foodies.

He smiled to himself, at least he was in good company now. He loaded the last two bullets into the revolver, just as he had planned it. He began his walk of remembrance, glancing down at the bodies of his friend and the evil he had slain. Roland emptied his coat pocket and placed a piece of paper on Terra’s body, “CONTAGIOUS, BIOHAZARD” in large letters.

“Roland Johnson! Come out with your hands up!” An officer he hadn’t known shouted on the P.A.

He grunted as he walked to the doors. He scanned the army through the doors, searching, waiting.

Ah, there he is.

Sargent Ted Matthers, 52, White male, 6′ 0”, 158 lbs. Accomplice to Charles, and Benjamin. Suspected of having helped rid evidence related to said case and several others. I’ve found incriminating evidence that supports this, as well as a recording that places him and Charles at several locations of attacks. Also, deals in sex trafficking. I have a ledger where he sold his daughters, Doreen, and Mona. He’s also responsible for ordering the hit on Tina…Roland sighed. This one needs to be put down.

“Roland! Come out! You are surrounded!”

He disregarded the taunts, waiting to see if Ted made a move. Sure enough, he saw him strap on a bulletproof vest and start making his way towards the door.

The other officers lowered their guns, watching as the lone cop wandered in alone.

Roland stood with his back to Ted. Visualizing him in his mind: what he thought, what he was going to say and do.

“I see you’ve been busy. That’s a shame really. What a waste of a good cop.” Ted mumbled as he scanned the scene. It was a massacre, and he knew he stood no chance.

Still fit for as old as he was: large build. He had given up on his balding—shaving his blond head entirely. Cold blue eyes stared back at him, with a numb expression on his face. The man was an incomprehensible piece of evil. Roland never knew why, nor did he care to know now. All he knew was he was about to put an end to it and get the justice so many had been denied.

“I don’t need your patronization, Ted. You know what this is about.” Roland snapped back.

Ted grinned. “I suppose so. How about this? You give me the ledger, and we’ll work the rest out.”

Roland shook his head. “I know how you operate. It’s not going to end like that.”

Ted cocked his head. “Oh? How is it then?”

“Like this…” Roland drew his gun, turned, and fired.

Ted had already had his gun aimed, and was able to get one shot off. The bullet of righteous fury bored its way into the skull of Sgt. Ted Matthers. While Ted’s shot missed Roland—due to his step-and-turn technique. Ted dropped to the floor, blood splattering against the market’s doors.

The army of royal blue outside raised their arms and began to unleash hell.

“Hold your fire! Hold your goddamn fire, I said!” Detective Dana Deupree yelled.

“For crying out loud! HOLD YOUR GODDAMN FIRE!” Detective Walter Conway bellowed.

It was of no use. Bullets flew and whizzed by Roland.

Horrible aim the lot of them, Roland thought. Like a bunch of Stormtroopers. He smirked to himself.

The glass in the front shattered, while bullets ricocheted off the metal of the ceiling and doors. A few finally found their way into Roland’s legs and torso. He fell to his knees, still holding on to his hammer of righteousness. He peered out into the eyes of Dana, and Walter. Both shook their heads, and flailed their arms, mouthing the word “no.” They attempted to run vainly into the hail of gunfire.

Roland closed his eyes, while the concert of deafening thunder rolled on. Life began to play on his mind’s reel. Everything that was a memory started to replay one final time. He remembered the day’s sun that hung up high and of Huey. All the good times, and all the fun he had working with the only three people he could have regarded as real true friends. Of his lost love and the injustice that had been done to him. Retribution was at its end. His task, his righting the wrongs, even if it was vigilante justice. Where the alleged system of Justice had failed so many.

As the gunfire stopped, Dana and Walter encroached on the threshold of the supermarket. Outside, one last gunshot echoed. Roland slumped over lifelessly to the ground. The too late duo approached their fallen friend, their hands running over their faces, through their hair—shaking their heads in disbelief.

“Goddamn it, Roland!” Dana shouted while Walter sighed aloud.

The blue blob began to descend upon the supermarket, the 20-some guns still aimed at the freshly slain detective, while white uniforms began to intervene and begin their process of elimination.

******

Elsewhere in Middleton, a Postal Service Agent approached Dana’s home, with a manila envelope addressed to him, from Roland, in their hands. The word URGENT in bold was stamped on both the front and back. The postal worker then trotted off the steps after completing their task, oblivious to the day’s transpired events.


Ths was originally published under the A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group website.
Retribution is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
*In case any are wondering, it is a 6.5″ barrel length S&W .44 Magnum revolver. Yes, he only had eight bullets, and yes, he was that confident. “Either hit your mark or die trying,” was his motto.
A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group with quill logo

Future Titles and Works

Hello, everyone!

A short while back I stated that you would see fewer posts of short stories posted on a consistent basis…like say how some that have been published days in a row and so on. While I am getting the Kickstarter campaign for Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle finalized (and it’s very near) and getting pre-orders ready as well, I thought I would share what is a taste of things to come.

I have numerous titles upcoming, of course, these all range from short stories, novels, novella, and so on. Some things I will be focusing on are as follows:

  • Publishing and release of a prequel to Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle (more information coming soon).
  • Continuing of The Diary of the Wasteland Bear God (with the possible introduction of artwork) on A.B.Normal Publishing.
  • Continuing of The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal (with the possible introduction of artwork) on A.B.Normal Publishing.
  • The introduction of a new entertainment series on A.B.Normal Publishing.
  • Several short stories that will be stand alone stories. These include my Dana and Walter Files: The Untold Stories of New Boston and Middleton.
  • The introduction of (my so dubbed title placeholder) Sinclair Gets His Rolex. This particular story is my take on a superhero through unorthodox means.

These will be but a few of the many planned items I have. To give you a gist they are:

  • A Chucky Origins tale. Yes, that very exact Chucky.
  • Pandemic Tales, which is a small collection of a few stories.
  • A romantic comedy that pushes the boundaries of the absurd.
  • A nightmare and dream short story collection.
  • A (so far) 600+ page epic post-apocalyptic fantasy science fiction story.
  • Several other post-apocalyptic stories.
  • The next short story “chapter” of The Lodestone Files.
  • The next chapters of The Mysterious Stranger.
  • And more…

So as you can see there is quite the list of things to do, and this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg (it’s OK if you want to scream “This isn’t even my final form!”). While I am hoping for a successful campaign and launch of Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle, I know I am only eager to please everyone and make something out of nothing, where I must remember that I wanted to do this for myself…no one else. While some may think of that as selfish, it is, but that was my initial goal, and I feel I must keep that; setting high goals is good, however, surpassing them and meeting your personal ones first is a lot better…gives you room for failure.

I hope you all enjoyed this “sneak peak,” if you will, of what’s to come and a glimmer of what I have to offer. I wish everyone a well weekend and to stay safe.

RJM

Slow Down, Speed Up

So it begins…

What I mean is that the short stories are going to be at a slower output, since I will be prioritizing the novels to get done. Although, there is one that I want to get done before too much time passes. In any case, you’ll be seeing fewer posts of short stories and maybe more posts on updates, Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle, and some other titles.

There will also be the posting of the Kickstarter for Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle along with the rewards for each tier. I’d like to make it a bit unique and sentimental, so I am trying to add something else I am quite partial to.

I’m happy to have it done. However, I need to go through a round of editing and then get in touch with a designer for the hardcover edition…since I want that one to be special. I will be unveiling the paperback cover real soon. It was a project that I enjoyed writing and producing, and I can’t wait to bring more stories to the hands of people all around the world. I know I can’t please everyone, and that’s fine, I expect it. There are quirks with something and about something every day that goes on, and books, along with movies, music, etc. are no stranger to the daily shenanigans of criticism.

I enjoyed writing it and doing it, that in itself, is good enough for me. Honestly, I never thought I’d get it ready for publication, let alone have the desire to share a story with the world. I hope folks enjoy it for what it is and look for the clues, references, friendship, and everything put into it.

Spoilers: it’s not the first in the series, and it won’t be the last. So, if people are to be disappointed, then by all means, be so. If they’re excited now that there will be a continuation…great!

When the time comes, I’d gladly take requests of what people think of certain characters, implementations and all the fun, great fan service. Just to get a feel of what people are craving. 😉

Honestly, though, I’ve had the book play out as a movie in my mind for several years now…and that is something I’d love to see come to fruition. To which, all I can do is try and apply. You can’t quit on your dreams, and you certainly can’t quit on the chance of inspiring others.

That’s about all for now, folks. There’s writing to be done! Until next time.

RJM

Here I am

So, it’s been some time since I last did an “update” of sorts. There are all kinds of things going on here behind the scenes, and honestly, it’s all making me tight in the pants.

A.B.Normal Publishing will be having its updates for The Diary of the Wasteland Bear God as well as The Chronicles of Bob, The Chronic Suicidal coming up fairly shortly.

I said before that I was taking into consideration of doing Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle as a crowdfund. However, as to which site platform, well, I am still debating that. I will be testing out another side project (a story that is) that will be coming soon. More on that later. Hint: it’s not going to be a romantic comedy, happy story, nor have a happy ending.

I also wanted to add that in part of the crowdfund fun, I will be releasing the first book for free alongside Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle. To be fair, it could be counted as a supplement to Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle, due to further character development, history, other characters, etc. However, it’s far more than just a “couple of pages.” It’ll be released first as an ebook, and then the other formats will follow shortly thereafter. I will gladly share more details about it as it gets closer to unveiling everything.

Of which, this leads to my next fun bit of news. I have the cover for Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle complete. This particular cover is different than anyone has seen, and it will only be for the ebook and paperback editions. I have a surprise in store for the hardback edition. I’d also like to find out if some would be so kind to, divulge what they’d like as rewards from the crowdfund, or even the release itself. I have some ideas but I don’t want to be. . .typical, if you know what I mean. So please, by all means, if you have an idea of what you’d like to get for backing me, let me know.

I am sure some of you have seen the header with the triangle and my name and all the fun there. Yeah, that’s me. Over on A.B.Normal Publishing, we’ve changed the logo too, which you can see on the Facebook page. I haven’t exactly found a theme I was thrilled with, so, patience is my virtue. Once I do, then you’ll no longer see the old Poker card logo. Things change. Like rolls of toilet paper.

It’s a daunting task but to hell with it. I am enjoying it and that’s what matters. Trust me, folks, when I mean I say I am only getting started, I mean it. One example, I have a 600+ page story drafted up, with 20+ double-sided pages of outline left. That’s not even the tip of the iceberg. Forget overtime, we’re going for the throat! So, grab a seat, strap yourselves in and prepare for an adventure. It’ll be bumpy but I invite you all along for the ride. You don’t even have to take a chance with me. Go ahead, sit in the back and watch. I’ll do my best to bust a move and then some.

Everyone, have a nice weekend and stay safe.

RJM

Walter’s Jealous Dream

Motel photo by r_neches. r_neches has no affiliation with me, or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

Photo by r_neches. r_neches has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

Alone in his car, he closed his heavy eyes and tumbled fast into the world of the dreamers. The bright sun reflected dimly off the dark-green shades that covered his green eyes. He now stood outside before a red metal door of the motel. He looked down over the railing, behind his right shoulder. He saw the blue ‘69 Mustang Coupe parked next to the black ‘77 Dodge Charger.

Inside of him, rage swelled behind the dam that laid ready to surge into a righteous reckoning. He brought right hand up slowly to the door, restraining the lesser half of man. He knocked firmly on the door. With each knock parallel to his now aching heart. Each was a strum of doubt, sadness, and of anger—such strong emotions and more, all swirled within his distraught head.

The red door taunted and mocked him, as it muffled the sounds of passion from within. His hand raised again—slowly, shaking. With anger now at the reigns, he firmly pushed the door in with his right shoulder. His eyes hastily scanned the room, searching for their target.

His gaze fell upon a bed—a bed of treachery, distrust, unfaithfulness, a tramp with that smug son of a bitch. He walked in. His eyes fixated on the rigorous movement that made the anger grow exponentially. He clenched his hands, fighting back the tears—watching on as they moved as one. The woman cried her mysterious lover’s name, clawing, and scratching his backside.

It was enough. Walter drew his gun, tired of the torment. He raised the barrel and pointed at the mysterious, but well-known man’s head. “You fuck ugly twat. You always did have to hound them.”

The man’s head turned all the way around, still pursuing his carnal needs. “You are just jealous, Walter. You never had the guts or the girth, and you never will. You speak of fuck ugly, yet you’ve never looked at yourself.”

Walter shook his head.“Before, perhaps, however, now it’s different. . .”

The man laughed hysterically as he pushed with more ferocity into the woman. “Oh my, she’s quite good, Wally-boy. Oh, yes, I am certainly having the time of my life!”

Walter grinned, “Ah. You mean the one that’s now about to come to an end? He aimed with precision, “So, long, Elias.” Like an elite marksman, with finesse and precision, Walter pulled the trigger.

The hammer initiated the sequence of one’s demise. The war horn trumpeted the coming end, bringing the specter of Death with it. The scythe was raised high and swung with such elegance and sheer brilliance. The bullet burrowed deep into the back of Elias, penetrating his heart. As the new home had been found, Death followed through, banishing the treacherous man down into the gaping fiery chasm of Hell.

With his vengeance nearly complete, he turned away from the woman. “Goodbye, Terra. . .” Alone and left behind on the bed of broken promises and vows, was the shadow of a now missed lover. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pleaded ‘No.’

Walter exited the room, with the door latching shut behind him—silencing everything. He took off his sunglasses, wiped his eyes, and returned his shades to their place. He gazed up at the clear, crisp azure sky.

Everything began to shift and with it, Walter sighed. He knew very well that what had transpired was fictional, and could never happen due to certain facts. He sat up in the car, adjusting his shades. It was another jealous dream.

Moments later, Dana made his way to the car. He knelt down next to the driver’s window. “Hey, Walt, is that dream still bothering ya?”

Walter nodded. “It’s alright,” he sighed. “It’s just a dream, Dana, no worries.”

Dana shrugged. “Well, Walt, sometimes our dreams speak to us. Tell us of the past, present—hell even the future.” He cracked a grin that he had been retaining.

Walter rolled his eyes. “When the hell did you become all-knowing about dreams, Dr. Katz?” He scowled.

Dana cocked his head at Walter angrily. “Hey, wake up!”

Walter raised an eyebrow, confused, “Huh?”

He felt a sharp, sudden pain in his jaw. He woke up and found himself in his car, dazed, with Dana leaning against the driver’s door. Dana poked his head inside. “What the hell were you dreaming of? Shit besides that, what the hell were you doing asleep?!”

Walter sat up in the car, the driver’s seat springing up. He vaguely remembered what had transpired before the dream. “Jesus, what the hell did you do to me, Dana?”

Dana placed his hands on his hips. “Let’s just say that we are even and leave it at that.” He ran around to the other side of the car. He flung open the passenger door, and plopped in, hastily putting his seatbelt on. “C’mon, Walt. We gotta go!”

Walter grunted as he slammed the pulsating red beacon on the roof of the car, and tore off from the parking lot. “I sure hope you at least brought me a damn cup of coffee, Dana.”

 

Robert J. S. T. McCartney
A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group
Other Writing

 

This piece was inspired by Mark Sandman of Morphine’s “Jealous Dream” off Sandbox: The Music of Mark Sandman