I finally got this sucker finished. It is available now for the kindle:
http://www.amazon.com/Oldest-Living-Vampire-Love-ebook/dp/B008D2ZCOG/ref=sr_1_10?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1340223823&sr=1-10
and the Nook:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-oldest-living-vampire-in-love-rod-redux/1111662605?ean=2940014696913
The paperback and ibooks versions are coming soon!
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Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Nyala's Tale: An Unfinished Story
I was going through the files of an old hard drive and discovered this fragment of a story. It takes place in the Oldest Living Vampire world, and features Nyala and Eyya, Gon's wives, long after their husband had been made into an immortal. Maybe I'll finish this one day. What do you think?
Nyala’s Tale
By
Rod Redux
1
When she was younger and of child-bearing age, the people of her tribe called her Nyala.
She lived in the verdant river valley of a piney mountainous region that is now called the Swabian Alps, in a country that would come to be named Germany in some thirty thousand years. In her youth, she had two husbands, one named Gon and the other named Brulde. She also had a subordinate Neanderthal wife named Eyya. They lived contentedly in a dome-shaped hut called a wetus, and their successful group marriage—which was a common way to live in her culture-- produced six beautiful children, three of which she had delivered from her own body.
But her child-bearing days were long past. Her youth, like her womb, had wizened with the passing of the seasons, shriveling like a bunyun fruit that had been left too long in the sun.
“Nyala”, in the tongue of the River People, meant “a blooming flower”, a name her father gave her when she was born, never considering that someday that flower would go to seed. As age seamed her face, as the unrelenting march of the sun and moon across the sky bleached her blonde hair white and hunched her back, the People took to calling her Nyal, which meant simply “a plant”, but the connotation of the word was a little bit worse. It really meant “a useless old weed”, but that suited her. That suited her just fine.
This Paleolithic crone, now named Nyal, was by our standard of measuring time, only 59 years old, but that was ancient in those untamed days. She and her subordinate wife Eyya, a Neanderthal, had been living in the Siede for years, old widow women.
The Siede was the communal cave of the elders, where the River People retired to while away their twilight years, performing menial tasks and teaching the young ones the skills they would need to survive while their parents were off hunting and gathering.
It was just the two of them now.
Brulde was dead, and Gon… Gon had vanished many years before, when they were all still young and had a hut full of babies. Nyal and Eyya subsisted on the generosity of their four strapping sons now, and traded their skills at threadwork and weaving for the rest of the commodities they needed to live.
“At least we’re comfortable,” Eyya would say, sitting beside the fire.
Comfortable is a matter of opinion, Nyal thought to herself, shifting around irritably on a pile of woven reed mats and old furs. Either her bedding was getting thinner, or her butt was getting bonier!
“At least our children still visit us,” Eyya sometimes said also.
Well, Den was always busy, chasing after women who were far too young for him, but Hun and Gan and Gavid always brought a portion of their hunting to their mothers’ apartment in the Seide, and Lethe and Breyya visited from time to time to gossip round the fire.
Eyya was an incurably optimistic woman.
It irritated Nyala to no end.
“It’s a miracle that all our children live,” Eyya often observed after their female children had visited. “Vestra has truly blessed us, Nyala.”
“Is that right?” Nyal replied tactfully.
Vestra was the moon goddess of the Neanderthal people. The River People had no gods—no gods save one. If that is what you wanted to call a “god”, thought Nyal with bitter amusement. But she loved old Eyya, fat and ugly as she’d become, so she smiled and nodded and agreed with her. Nyal wasn’t inclined to be so satisfied, but Eyya’s feelings were easily bruised, and Nyal hated to see that look of shock and hurt flash in her Neanderthal companion’s eyes. It made the old woman feel terribly guilty.
“I suppose that’s true, my love,” Nyala said, adjusting a pair of breeches in her lap. She wriggled her bone needle through the tough material and pulled the flaxen thread taut. One of the young men in the tribe, whose wife had no skills at sewing, had promised her a fat haunch of deer meat in return for a new pair of pants.
As she sewed, Nyal pretended she did not notice how thin and wrinkled the flesh of her hands had become. When did her hands become an old crone’s crinkled claws? she wondered, turning them this way and that in the flickering firelight.
Eyya often smiled like she was doing right this moment, looking at the ceiling with a dreamy expression-- counting all her blessings, Nyal supposed with an exasperated shake of her head.
Ancestors love her!
She wished her heart could be so simple… so easily satisfied.
2
Eyya died at the wet end of winter, after slipping in some slushy snow.
She had tottered from the cave early one morning, headed for the ditch at the edge of camp where their people went to shit and piss. Nyal told her to wait, told her she would help her walk to the ditch in just a moment, just let her get her shoes on and work the kinks out of her legs and back, but Eyya couldn’t hold her water – she could never hold her water anymore-- so Nyala’s companion ventured out alone.
Cursing under her breath, Nyala slipped her wrinkled old crone’s feet into her leather shoes. She pulled on the gut string laces its seams were bound together with to snug them tighter to her feet, then leaned her elbow against an outcrop of stone to lever herself up.
She winced at the pain that seized her back. It felt like some devil beast had sank merciless hooked claws into the meat of her and pulled in both directions. When she’d gotten her balance, standing hunched with one hand on the wall, she pushed away and tottered off after her Neanderthal companion.
The Siede was divided into living quarters with hanging hides, which were draped or suspended from rickety frames of wood bound together with gut string or braided rope made of plant material. Nyala’s apartment was near the entrance of the cave, which was good for a peepee bunny like Eyya, but not so good for an old arthritic like Nyala. It took her several minutes every morning just to work her swollen joints loose, and on cold moist days, her body howled in agony at the chore. If not for the framash, which she drank regularly, she thought she might wander off into the woods to die, the pain could get so bad.
Nyal pushed through the hide dividing her quarters from the rest of the elder commune and began to shuffle her way toward the opening of the cave. Through the gaps in the other hangings, she caught little glimpses of her fellow residents: her fat brother-in-marriage Epp’ha, snoring in his bedding, tiny Herma and her blind husband, the sisters Deb and Neba, smoking merje beside the low licking flames of their fire. She saw nasty old Y’ppham, assaulting the wrinkled remains of his manhood, and averted her eyes with a disgusted snort.
Do they never tire of their little toy?
Even on the best of days, the Siede smelled of smoke and aged flesh, stale farts and urine-stained bedding.
Nyala’s lips thinned as she leaned into the frigid wind that was whistling through the outer wall. The entrance of the cave was blocked off with hides, too, but the stout late winter wind had found a hundred gaps through which to pry its icy fingers. The chill currents blew through her thin white hair, made her knees and shoulders throb.
She was reaching out to catch the flapping entrance when she heard an outcry rise up from the camp beyond.
It seemed she already knew, even before tottering outside, what had happened.
With a coldness in her heart that she could not attribute to the wind, she pushed her way outside. The sun was bright despite the cold, and glared off drifts of new fallen snow. The white humps of snowfall sparkled in a very lovely manner, but the glare was still painful for rheumy old eyes adjusted to the dimness of the Siede. Squinting into the white light, she watched as several of the younger People went running toward the ditch on the far side of the camp, calling to one another and making sounds of surprise and concern.
She followed after them, her lips pressing tighter and tighter together. The wind blew spicules of ice into her face. Icicles dripped from the bare limbs of the trees.
She hoped her premonition was wrong, but before she’s even made it halfway across the camp, several men came stumbling her direction, Eyya cradled in their arms.
“You foolish old Fat Hand!” Nyala cried as the men carried her companion toward her.
Eyya was groaning, the right side of her body wet and slick with mud.
“She fell down, Grandmother,” one of the men said, a tall, powerful looking hunter in fur trimmed clothes. He had wiry black hair and a full beard. The man was not her grandson. “Grandmother” was just a title of respect. The young ones called all the elders Grandmother or Grandfather. “I was shitting when she came to the ditch to empty her bladder,” he explained. “I asked her if she needed help, but she said she was fine. I… I guess she slipped. I was looking away to give her some privacy. She must have fallen in the ditch when she squatted and couldn’t get back on her feet.”
The trough where the People went to eliminate their waste, out on the eastern side of the camp near the tannery, was several feet deep, a sizeable fall for an old woman.
It wasn’t mud all over her then…
Nyal curled her upper lip and waved at the foul smell coming from her companion. “Why couldn’t you have waited a moment longer?” she asked Eyya querulously. “I said I was getting up!”
“I’m sorry, Nyala,” Eyya moaned. She gasped and clutched her hip. “Oh, that hurts!”
Her heart aching, Nyala stepped aside and motioned the men past. “Take her to our quarters in the Siede. I will look after the foolish old thing!” She followed, daubing at her eyes. That wind--!
There was nothing that could be done for her. The other elders gathered and helped Nyala to bathe the woman and make her comfortable. They gave Eyya framash to sooth her pain, and bundled her up for warmth. Most of their children came to see her in the days that followed, but the Neanderthal woman grew weaker and more feverish by the hour.
The nights were long and terrible. Eyya could do naught but shiver and cry out when she tried to move. Nyala did not leave her side, and cleaned up her companion when Eyya soiled herself like a baby. She did it grimly, but without complaint. When Eyya apologized, crying softly, Nyal shushed her brusquely. She couldn’t bring herself to speak out loud what she felt in her heart. As unpleasant as it was to clean her, Nyal loved the old Neanderthal woman, and felt it an honor to tend to her in her last days. Finally, about a week after falling and breaking her pelvis, Eyya passed into the Ghost World.
Nyala knew it was coming. Her companion was pale and weak. Eyya lay shivering by their fire, even though the Siede was stifling hot. She had laid unconscious most of the day, and when she did wake, her eyes were filmy and rolled in their sockets as if she couldn’t quite remember where she was. Nyala went to lie next to her, and she petted the fat old Neanderthal’s hand.
“It’s all right. I’m here.”
“Nyala?” Eyya murmured.
“Yes?”
“We’ve led a good life.”
“I know we have.”
“Do you remember how handsome and strong our husbands were when we were young?”
“Yes.”
Eyya laughed softly. “They pursued me so insistently! My father didn’t know what to make of them. You know, the Gray Stone People do not live in group families like your people do. It was a bit of a scandal when I left home to marry two Fast Feet men, but I loved Gon so much, and Brulde was a very sweet man, too. So calm and thoughtful. Brulde was very much like my own people in that regard.”
Nyala shifted uncomfortably. She did not like to reflect on the past so much. It made her feel weepy. “You need to rest, dear one. How will you ever get better if you don’t rest?”
Eyya’s deep brown eyes rolled toward Nyala. They seemed very clear all of a sudden. Her lucid gazed chilled Nyala to the bone. She knew what it meant.
Eyya smiled and said, “I won’t be getting better, my love. I’m go tonight to dwell with Vestra. I’m ready to return to the Mother of All. I’m tired of living here on Doomhalde’s back, but I will miss you. I only hope to see my family there. All the ones the Demon Ghost killed all those ages ago. And Brulde, too. I hope I see him in the spirit world. Perhaps they’re one and the same, your spirit world and the realm of the sky goddess?”
Nyala shushed her, bringing the woman’s feverish hand to her lips and kissing it. “Perhaps,” she said solemnly.
Eyya’s eyes waxed distant. As she faded, she asked one last question: “Do you think our husband will come down from the mountain to claim me, Nyala?” She drew a whispery breath, more of a rattle, really. “I hope so,” the Neanderthal sighed, so soft Nyala could barely hear her. “I want my bones to reside with our husbands.”
And then she was gone.
3
When Nyala was a blushing newlywed, a demon ghost invaded their peaceful valley home. It had stalked and killed the Gray Stone People, the tribe her subordinate wife had come from. When Nyala’s people sent a war party to aid their neighboring clan, only two men from the tribe returned.
Nyala supposed she and Eyya were lucky. Both of their husbands had gone to aid their neighboring allies. One, at least, had lived to return to them. Brulde had returned, crippled and full of fearsome tales, speaking of not one but two demons, and how those demons had killed all of their war party.
Gon, Nyala and Eyya’s other husband, did not come home.
Gon and Brulde had escaped after killing the little demon, Brulde told them, but then the master demon had come and snatched Gon in the dark.
Several of the People had vanished in the night while the war party was away. Their bodies were never recovered. A couple of their tribesmen described the monster that had preyed upon them: that it was pale, with eyes like the embers of a fire, and that it flew through the trees on great black wings, moving faster than any mortal man could move. Mad as his tales were, Brulde was believed by all, and it was verified a day later when one more survivor straggled in, Brulde’s uncle Kort-lenthe.
The People waited for the demon to return, debating in the Siede whether they should flee the valley like their Neanderthal neighbors had done, but when no more people were stolen in the night, they began to think that the demon ghost had moved on, and they got back to their daily lives, mourning for those that were lost, yes, but a body had to eat, and there were babies to take care of.
A few seasons went by, and life returned to normal. No more People were snatched from their tents in the middle of the night. Brulde recovered, and grew strong enough to provide for his family once more—with the help of their eldest sons, of course.
And then one day in the fall, many seasons later, Brulde came limping back to camp, overwrought and shouting the news that Gon still lived. Their two sons who were hunting with him were just as shocked and overwhelmed. Gon lives! Their father lives!
They explained to all who cared to hear their tale how Gon had dispatched the demon ghost who’d killed the Neanderthals so long before. “The demon ghost cursed him,” Brulde gasped breathlessly. “That is why he could not return to us. He has been made a thing of ice and spirit. I saw him, Nyala! It is like he is frozen. He hasn’t aged a day! And after we spoke, he melted away like smoke. He just vanished. But he is real. I touched him.”
If her sons Gan and Hun had not sworn it was true, Nyala wouldn’t have believed it. Demons and magic were the playthings of Neanderthal imaginations, not the People.
Then, when Brulde died of the coughing illness a few winters later, Nyala saw her long lost husband with her own two eyes.
Brulde had spoken the truth. Gon drifted like a spirit from the treetops, white, gleaming, as young as the day he left her side to do battle the monster who was killing the Fat Hands. They were carrying Brulde’s body to their ancestral burial mound, but at Gon’s request, their sons put the body of Nyala’s dead husband at the feet of the white, ageless thing that looked like her young husband. He spoke to Nyala and Eyya both, his voice like the voice she heard in her sweetest dreams, and then he lifted Brulde into his arms and flew away with him, leaving behind a promise to return for them both, when the last of their days were done.
Eyya wondered aloud if Gon would indeed return for her when she died, and of course he did.
How he knew that Eyya had passed into the Ghost World, Nyala could not fathom. Perhaps he watched over them, as the People had come to believe. Perhaps it was simply a part of the magic which preserved him throughout time. However he knew, he came. As they bore Eyya’s body down to the burial mound in the forest just across the river, the winds came up, twisting and whipping like an angry serpent, and he swept down through the sudden flurry of ice to claim his bride.
Friday, May 25, 2012
OLV In Love is finished...
I have completed The Oldest Living Vampire In Love. It is 120,000 words in length, or about 450 paperback pages. The longest installment of the Oldest Living Vampire books. It is currently in the hands of a few trusted beta readers, and should be available on the kindle, nook and ibook store sometime next week. All I'm waiting on is some feedback from my beta readers. So far they've spotted a couple typos and repeated words that need to be fixed.
In this volume, Gon encounters the beautiful and hot tempered vampire Zenzele, and confronts his arch enemy, the god king Khronos-- who will play a major role in the next two OLV books. I cannot wait for you to meet all the new characters in volume three of the Oldest Living Vampire Saga! There are going to be some major developments for Gon's adopted child Ilio, and for his mortal prisoner in present day Liege, Lukas Jaeger, as well.
In this volume, Gon encounters the beautiful and hot tempered vampire Zenzele, and confronts his arch enemy, the god king Khronos-- who will play a major role in the next two OLV books. I cannot wait for you to meet all the new characters in volume three of the Oldest Living Vampire Saga! There are going to be some major developments for Gon's adopted child Ilio, and for his mortal prisoner in present day Liege, Lukas Jaeger, as well.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Preview of Soma, the Sequel to Mort
The following is a preview of my next novel Soma, the second volume of what I'm now calling the Fearlanders series. This is a first draft, so there may be some typos and odd grammar. Hope you enjoy it!
Prologue
The world was blue.
An early snow was falling, had been all afternoon, and as the sun dropped below the scrim of the trees, the deepening blue seemed to bleed into the sugary accumulation.
For some reason it made him think of coloring Easter eggs.
It had always seemed slightly magical when he was a kid, putting that hardboiled egg on the metal eggholder, then dipping it into a bowl of dye. His mother always oversaw their Easter egg coloring, a Virginia Slim dangling from her seamed mouth. She was quick to criticize if she thought they were making a mess or not taking the activity serious, but her baleful supervision was never quite sour enough to spoil the magic of dying those Easter eggs. Not for young Joe Bob Gillette.
That’s what color the world is tonight, Joe mused. It’s the color of eggshell dipped in blue food coloring.
Not that kids would be doing any such damnfool things now. Not since the Phage came and gobbled up all the Easters to come. The world had died, and it had taken all the egg coloring, trick-or-treating and presents under the Christmas trees with it.
Not that it was all bad. He was free now. Free as a fucking bird. There was no more government, no more laws. If he wanted to parade down Main Street with his dick swinging and a big doobie clamped between his lips, who was going to complain? Equal rights was also out the window. His gang, the Highwaymen, had a regular Ali Baba harem, and Rule #1 was: put out or get out. Which, in this day and age, was more of a death sentence than an option any of the Pusses might seriously contemplate taking them up on. They didn’t squawk so long as the men kept their bellies full and protected them from the deadheads. And if any of them even thought about getting mouthy, why, all they had to do was take a good look at Sheila. Sheila had gotten smart with him once, and Joe Bob had laid her out. Kicked her fucking teeth in. She didn’t say “boo” to anybody now.
Joe Bob shifted inside the duck blind, trying to find a more comfortable position. It was cold, and that made every little sharp stick and rock jabbing him in this ass that much more annoying. His nose was running, and his feet felt like two size 12 blocks of ice.
Just a couple more hours, he thought, and then he’d hike back to HQ. Let one of the other guys guard the base for a while. He’d strip out of these insulated coveralls, grab whatever leftovers there were in the kitchen, then warm his tootsies by the electric heater in the den.
He was dying for a smoke.
He had a pack of Winstons in the inner pocket of his coveralls. He’d grabbed several cartons of them from the OK Corral just a few days ago-- the day they’d had the shootout with Old Man Shitkicker and Shitkicker Junior. He’d light up right now, only the deadheads seemed to recognize the smell of cigarette smoke. To them, it was an advertisement for an all-you-can-eat brain buffet. He might even take the chance if he thought there were no zombies nearby, but this old blacktop, as remote as it was, seemed to be a regular zombie highway. The nearest town was a shitty little burg called Cloey, population 1200, and it was a good fifteen minute drive from their new base, but there were deadheads marching up and down the road all day.
Maybe they were migrating, he thought.
Heading south for the winter.
He couldn’t blame them.
Joe Bob checked his watch again. One hour and fifty five minutes to go.
He leaned forward and peered through the slit in the blind, looking up and down the road. He didn’t see any deadheads, so he leaned to the right and ripped off a hairy fart.
“Damn,” he muttered, as the smell wafted out through the collar of his coveralls.
Oh, well... at least it was warm.
The blacktop wasn’t a blacktop anymore. The snow had finally begun to stick on the tarmac and the road was just a blank white expanse now, marred only by the zigzagging tracks of the last deadhead who had shuffled past, and those tracks were growing fainter by the minute.
That one had doddered by about an hour ago. A big spade in bib overalls, frizzy hair dusted with snow, jaw hanging slack like some kind of retard. It hadn’t sniffed Joe Bob out, just shambled by, making a kind of sad gurgling sound in the back of its throat, and Joe had let the creature pass.
It wasn’t the noise he was worried about. He was equipped with a crossbow, or, as he liked to call it, Silent Death. He just didn’t like exposing himself. If he’d shot the big black one, he’d have to go out in the road and pull the bolt out of the zombie’s head. That was like hanging your ass out the window and yelling “come and get it!” at the top of your lungs.
He was also lazy as hell.
Besides, they weren’t supposed to shoot the things unless a deadhead showed some interest. Orders from Big Boss.
Joe Bob checked his watch again. One hour, fifty-two left.
“Aw, fuck it,” he said.
He leaned forward, checked the road.
No zombies.
Setting aside his crossbow, he unzipped his coveralls and fished the Winstons from the interior pocket. He had to shift around a bit so that he could get his fingers down to the bottom and snatch out his lighter, but he finally got everything situated, and he rezipped his coveralls and leaned back to enjoy a cigarette.
“Another nail in your coffin, boy,” he murmured.
That was something his mother always said when she saw him light up, not that she had any room to talk. By the time the dead started walking, she had to plug the hole in her neck when she indulged to keep the smoke from leaking out her stoma.
He didn’t have to take off his gloves. He’d cut off the index and middle fingers of both so he could pull a trigger. And scratch. And pick his nose. He opened the flip top and plucked out a fag, then flicked his Bic and blew out a cloud of sweet, sweet carcinogens.
“Ahhh!” he breathed.
He coughed, wiped his runny nose, and wondered how he should kill himself when the world ran out of cigarettes. He was pretty sure all the people who worked at the cigarette factories had been calling in dead lately.
Sure, there were plenty of Winstons left out there in the big dead world, and not a whole hell of a lot of dedicated smokers still alive to smoke them, but you’d have to leave the fort to get your fix, and all the Injuns wanted to eat your brains.
It was a real dilemma: zombies, or withdrawals.
Maybe they’d all freeze to death this winter, Joe Bob thought. There was quite a bit of debate amongst the Highwaymen about the particulars of zombie physiology, and one of those questions was: would they all freeze to death when the temperature dropped below zero this winter? And if so, would they start moving again when they thawed out come spring? Or would they just keep wandering around, cold or no cold, with icicles hanging from their balls? They’d even debated catching one and putting it in a freezer, just to see what would happen, but that proposal had never come to fruition.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Big Boss had said.
A low-pitched and guttural groan drifted suddenly out of the gloaming.
Joe Bob lurched, biting back a cry of surprise. He snatched the smoldering cigarette from his mouth and smashed it out on the gravel beside him.
Fuck!
As quietly as he could, Joe leaned forward and peeked from the duck blind.
Deadhead at three o’clock.
It was a male, middle aged, dressed in just a pair of tattered boxer shorts. The deadhead’s belly was fish white and bloated with gas, its feet ground to hamburger from weeks of ceaseless wandering. It tottered along near the shoulder of the road like a sleepwalker and was going to pass perilously close to Joe Bob’s position unless it keeled the other direction.
Shit!
Bubbly green mucous dangled from its slack mouth. Half its body was overgrown with some kind of greasy-looking gray fungus.
It stopped and snorted at the air as fluffs of snow swirled around it in a little vortex. For a second it looked like the world’s ugliest snow globe. Joe Bob-- ever so gently-- lifted his crossbow in his lap. The zombie craned its head back and forth, nostrils flaring, blue-tinged fingers curling and uncurling. The light was almost gone from the world, but they had good sniffers, those deadheads, and really good hearing.
Joe Bob flicked the crossbow’s safety off.
The zombie’s head swiveled toward the duck blind.
Fuckshit!
Its brows furrowed down over those soulless, cataract eyes, and then it was running toward him, hands held out before it, fingers curled into claws. It came at him fast, howling like a banshee, and Joe Bob stood up, bringing the crossbow to bear.
Tried to stand up.
He had been sitting so long on the ground that his right leg had gone to sleep. He knee flexed in like a loose hinge, and he almost fell back down.
“Damn!” he hissed, hopping on his good foot.
He swung the crossbow back up, sighted on the ugly fucker’s head.
It was almost too dark to see now.
“Hold still for a second, you rotten motherfucker!” Joe Bob snarled, and then he pulled the trigger.
The crossbow twitched in his hands as the bolt flew, but he was already reaching for his Bowie knife. He was going to have to kill it with his pigsticker if he missed the lurching creature. No time to reset the bow and nock another arrow.
No need. Despite the numb foot, the dark and fingers that felt like frozen fish sticks, he got the ugly sucker-- smack between the eyes!
The deadhead took about three more running steps, then fell on its face with a thud, going down hard just ten feet from Joe Bob’s duck blind. When it fell, the weight of its body came down on the shaft of the arrow, and the bolt punched out the back of its skull with a disgusting spurt of cranial fluid. A hunk of rotten brain matter quivered on the tip of the arrowhead.
“Ew-hewwwww!” Joe Bob leered, swiveling his chin back and forth Earnest T. Whorl style. He checked up and down the road real quick, then stomped toward the deadhead, flapping his arms and yelling, “What? What? How you like me now, bitch? You like that arrow in your head? Huh?” He snatched his handkerchief from his back pocket and used it to pull the arrow from the deadhead’s skull, holding the dripping shaft at arms length. “Jesus jumped up Cootie Brown! Your brain fucking stinks, you undead faggot!”
He started to walk around the body so he could roll the deadhead’s remains into the ditch--
--And that was when it got him.
“Rarrrrh!”
Joe Bob wailed as cold fingers seized the back of his coveralls, wrenching him to and fro like a pitbull with a kitten in its jaws. He lost control of his bladder and squirted about half a cup of hot piss into his Hanes. His knees buckled-- both of them this time-- and he fell down on his rump, and that was when he realized he’d been had, that one of his buddies had snuck up behind him, not some deadhead.
Mainly because said buddy was laughing his ass off.
“Ray, you fucker!” Joe Bob snarled, rolling to his hands and knees.
Ray backed off, still laughing, as Joe Bob jumped to his feet.
“Sorry, dude, I couldn’t help it!” he snorted, holding his hands out in front of him.
“You made me piss my pants, you asshole!”
Ray looked down at Joe Bob’s crotch, where a Florida-shaped wet spot was currently spreading down the man’s inner leg, and went off into gales of fresh laughter.
“Oh, my god! You did!”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Joe Bob yelled, and he launched himself at the other man.
It wasn’t much more than a schoolyard scuffle. Ray had saved his ass more time than he could count since the dead rose up and took a bite out of planet Earth’s ass. Joe Bob just shoved his laughing companion around the road until he’d blown off some steam. He did land a few satisfying rabbit punches to his buddy’s chest and shoulder, but they did little damage, then he was spent. He leaned forward with hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, while Ray wiped his eyes, his laughter winding down to the occasional snort or snicker.
“You okay?” Ray asked.
“Y-yeah,” Joe Bob gasped.
“Your face is all red.”
“Winded... Need to... quit smoking,” Joe Bob wheezed.
“No, seriously. You look like you’re about to have a coronary.”
“Just gimme a minute,” Joe Bob panted.
Ray walked to the blacktop to check for zombies while Joe Bob tried to catch his breath. Luckily, the road was deserted in both directions. If there were deadheads within earshot, they were in the woods out of sight.
He thought the coast was clear, however. Most deadheads screamed their heads off when they were in kill mode, and he didn’t hear any wailing. The landscape was cold, white and silent.
Ray went to the deadhead Joe Bob had killed and checked out the corpse.
“Nice shot,” he said, when Joe Bob joined him at the road.
“Thanks,” Joe said.
“One shot?”
“Yep.”
“Nice.”
They dragged the carcass across the road and rolled it into the ditch, then headed back toward the duck blind, wiping their hands on their pant legs.
“You come down early to relieve me?” Joe Bob asked.
“Yeah. I brought you some turkey, too. I was afraid the other guys wouldn’t save you any.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
Ray walked up the gravel drive and retrieved the covered dish he’d brought down from the farm, then they sat together inside the duck blind and talked idly while Joe Bob scarfed some leftover turkey and dressing.
Because they were simple men, they talked about simple things. Sports teams they’d supported before the whole world went down the toilet. The cars they’d owned: mostly pickup trucks, the bigger the better. And then finally women.
“What do you think about the tall one. The one Big Boss is so hot for?” Ray asked.
“Alexis?” Joe Bob asked, his cheek distended with food. With his grey-streaked beard and bulging cheek, he looked like a man-sized chipmunk.
“I don’t think she’s a she, you know what I mean?” Ray leered. He pointed at his throat when Joe Bob looked confused, said, “Adam’s apple.”
“You think Alexis is a boy?”
“I think Big Boss might be in for a little surprise when he takes that chick out to the shaggin’ wagon.”
They laughed together, then realized they were on guard duty and checked the road for deadheads.
Ray leaned back, pulled at the front of his jeans with a grimace. “Speaking of shaggin’,” he said a little more quietly, “I think one of those bitches gave me the clap or something.”
Joe Bob set his plate and utensils aside. He’d all but licked them clean. “You’re lucky one of them ain’t give you AIDS,” he said to Ray. “You know you’re not supposed to be fuckin’ them bareback. Ain’t no telling what kind of diseases they got, and Big Boss will give you hell if you get one of the Pusses knocked up. We ain’t set up to be taking care of no babies. Not right now. They’ll probably be deformed anyway, what with all the radiation. Hell, half this snow is probably radioactive ash!”
Ray looked up at the sky, his eyelids lowered to thoughtful slits. “You’re probably right,” he murmured. A couple flakes of snow drifted down onto his face, coming to rest on his eyebrows and lashes, and he scrubbed them away quickly. He looked at Joe Bob soberly, and asked, “You got a roll of toilet paper down here?”
Joe Bob chuckled. “Yeah. Why?”
“I got to shit.”
Joe Bob laughed. “Why didn’t you go before you walked all the way down here?”
“I didn’t have to go then.”
Joe Bob fetched his little cardboard box of guard duty supplies and handed his friend a half-spent roll of TP. Ray stood up and headed toward the woods on the east side of the gravel road. There was a fallen tree back there with a limb perfectly positioned to pop a squat over.
“Be right back.”
“Hope everything comes out all right,” Joe Bob called after him.
He listened to Ray crunching through the underbrush. His partner stumbled in the dark and cursed, then fell silent for a moment. Joe Bob heard a very faint zip, then some very noisome elimination.
“How about a courtesy flush?” Joe Bob called with a grin.
“How about you come over here and suck this dick?” Ray called back.
“Get it ready for me,” Joe Bob replied.
Joe sat in the duck blind, grinning, waiting for Ray’s rejoinder.
He waited.
Just in case his buddy hadn’t heard him, he called out, “You gettin’ it ready for me?”
Nothing.
“Ray?”
He grabbed his crossbow and loaded it, then clambered to his feet.
“Ray, you okay?”
He heard something, but it was very soft. Sounded like a heavy exhalation.
“Ray!” Joe Bob yelled.
The crackle of a limb breaking.
“Oh goddam it!” Joe Bob muttered, and headed into the woods after his friend.
He edged into the forest, the crossbow seated against his shoulder, ready to aerate the first critter that jumped out of the dark at him. “You better not be playing another prank on me, Ray,” he said. “I got the safety off and a twitchy finger.”
He tried to walk as softly as he could, but there was a lot of brush underfoot and each step he took sounded like someone munching on a big bowl of Rice Krispee cereal.
He smelled something musky and animalistic in the air. Kind of like skunk. He sniffed, his upper lip peeling back from his teeth. Skunk and... Well, to be honest, skunk and sweaty dick.
He heard a grunt and a not-too-promising ripping sound, kind of wet, like someone pulling open a watermelon with their fingers. Taking a steadying breath, he came around the trunk of a tree and sighted on the log where they all came down to shit when they pulled guard duty.
Ray wasn’t squatting on the log though. He was laid out on the ground, his pants around his ankles, with something big and dark crouched down over him.
Even in the murk, Joe Bob could see that his buddy was dead. It wasn’t the expression on his face-- because he had no face. It was ripped off. Rather, it was the sight of that big, dark thing pulling out quivering loops of Ray’s guts. You couldn’t play in someone’s guts like that without them screaming bloody murder. Not unless they were dead.
But what was it?
It wasn’t a deadhead. He couldn’t really tell what it was, it was so dark, but whatever the thing was, it was doing a passable imitation of a magician’s scarf trick with his buddy’s innards.
Joe Bob felt his hair stand up. What he didn’t feel was the remaining contents of his bladder pouring down his left leg.
He sighted carefully on the back of the thing’s skull, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth, but it seemed to sense him before he could squeeze the trigger. The big creature ducked and twisted around, tiny yellow eyes fixing him where he stood.
He realized, staring into those luminous orbs, what exactly he was looking at, what had killed Ray while his friend was taking a dump, and Joe Bob felt his courage drain out of him like someone pulled the stopper out.
“Jesus,” Joe Bob groaned.
It didn’t snarl or growl, it just stared at him, silent as death, and then it rose up on two feet, its head ducked down between broad, powerful shoulders.
Joe’s finger twitched and the crossbow jumped in his hands. He hadn’t meant to shoot, and the recoil made him cry out.
The thing that had killed Ray reached up and snatched the arrow from the air. It’s arm moved so fast it was just a blur, but it didn’t seem impressed by its own speed. It merely plucked the bolt out of the air and tossed it casually aside.
Joe Bob retreated with a whimper.
The big beast loped after him, crashing through the underbrush.
Joe Bob ran for all he was worth. Bare branches slashed at his cheeks like skeletal fingers, and then he was jumping across the ditch to the end of the gravel lane where the duck blind was set up. He slipped and fell when he came down on the other side, but he rolled over quick as he could, his breath coming out in puffs of white vapor. With trembling fingers, he reached for his Bowie knife.
The big thing that had gutted his buddy stepped out of the forest. It stretched one foot across the ditch, the muscles of its oddly-shaped leg taut and quivering, but before it came and ripped off Joe Bob’s face, it hunkered down with a start, looking up at the sky with its lips curled back from its fangs.
Shaking uncontrollable from head to toe, Joe Bob followed the creature’s gaze.
A flight of angels was descending.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Ready to Fall "In Love"?
Thought I'd make a quick post and let all you Gon fans know that I have completed the first draft of The Oldest Living Vampire In Love and am currently engaged in the editing process of the novel, trying to get it ready for publication. I have the second draft about 25% done. I normally do three drafts before I publish a book, so I have a few more weeks of work left to do. The novel is approximately 115,000 words in length. Kind of a big one, and that's why it's taken so long to get this finished. I hope you'll be patient just a little while longer as I tie this bad boy's shoelaces and straighten his cuffs. It's all there. It's just a little rough around the edges.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Coming Soon...
I have received many emails asking me if I am going to do a sequel to this or that, so I thought I'd post a quick update on my blog and give you guys a rough idea what projects will be coming out this year by little ol' me. Just remember that I may change this later, depending on how the muse strikes.
First up, the Oldest Living Vampire in Love. It is 80% complete and should be released sometime in April. I only have about 30,000 words left on the first draft, and then I will do a couple rewrites, and it will be finished.
Next, I plan to do a sequel to Mort. I was originally going to do it as a one-shot, but so many readers have asked me for a follow up that I feel like I have to do it. It might not be quite what you're expecting, but that's always a good thing in my opinion.
What else...? Oh, yeah, I'll be doing the second installment of my serial horror western. This one is going to be called Doc Wormwood and the Siege of the Holy Moses.
I'm not just going to write a bunch of sequels this year, though! I have some stand alone novels planned as well. Following the sequel to Mort, there's going to be The Cryptozoologist, a werewolf novel, and a young adult fantasy novel called Emily and the Imp. The plot of Emily and the Imp was created by my son and I on a long car trip from Tennessee. I also have some ideas floating around in my head for an unusual serial killer book and I'm planning on tackling the doppelganger horror trope as well, but those may be next year, as I have a lot on my plate now, and I have to get Volume 4 of the Oldest Living Vampire done somewhere in there, too!
Thanks for listening to my ramblings, and thanks for all your support! I really appreciate all the kind words and excitement you've all show toward me and my creations!
RR
First up, the Oldest Living Vampire in Love. It is 80% complete and should be released sometime in April. I only have about 30,000 words left on the first draft, and then I will do a couple rewrites, and it will be finished.
Next, I plan to do a sequel to Mort. I was originally going to do it as a one-shot, but so many readers have asked me for a follow up that I feel like I have to do it. It might not be quite what you're expecting, but that's always a good thing in my opinion.
What else...? Oh, yeah, I'll be doing the second installment of my serial horror western. This one is going to be called Doc Wormwood and the Siege of the Holy Moses.
I'm not just going to write a bunch of sequels this year, though! I have some stand alone novels planned as well. Following the sequel to Mort, there's going to be The Cryptozoologist, a werewolf novel, and a young adult fantasy novel called Emily and the Imp. The plot of Emily and the Imp was created by my son and I on a long car trip from Tennessee. I also have some ideas floating around in my head for an unusual serial killer book and I'm planning on tackling the doppelganger horror trope as well, but those may be next year, as I have a lot on my plate now, and I have to get Volume 4 of the Oldest Living Vampire done somewhere in there, too!
Thanks for listening to my ramblings, and thanks for all your support! I really appreciate all the kind words and excitement you've all show toward me and my creations!
RR
Update on The Oldest Living Vampire in Love
Hey, gang! I just wanted to update you on the progress I have been making on the next installment of the Oldest Living Vampire Saga. As you know, I am past the deadline I set for myself for Volume 3, but this important chapter of the saga has grown considerably. There are lots of new characters, and some important plotlines will be revealed. Please be patient as I hammer out the last 30,000 words.
Right now I am in the middle of chronicling the origins of the vampire Zenzele, the fierce female blood drinker who steals Gon's heart in this volume. Fear not, even though this volume is sort of a "romance", I am doing my best to turn the conventions of romantic literature on its ear.
The relationship between Gon and Zenzele is NOT going to be your typical "save the girl" or "fix the guy" type plots. These are mature, unusual and complex creatures, and hopefully I can make their love affair just as complex and unusual. Zenzele is no shrinking violet, waiting for her knight in shining armor to come rescue her. She is a powerful, sometimes ruthless woman. And Gon... well, he is just as sentimental and bloodthirsty as ever.
The book is looking like it's going to end up being about 120,000 words, twice as long as the other volumes. I hope it's twice as good, too!
I can never tell when I'm in the middle of writing something if it is good or not, but I will say that I am having a lot of fun with it. It's always a good sign when you get up every day and can't wait to return to your fictional universe.
I'll keep you guys updated as it nears completion!
RR
Right now I am in the middle of chronicling the origins of the vampire Zenzele, the fierce female blood drinker who steals Gon's heart in this volume. Fear not, even though this volume is sort of a "romance", I am doing my best to turn the conventions of romantic literature on its ear.
The relationship between Gon and Zenzele is NOT going to be your typical "save the girl" or "fix the guy" type plots. These are mature, unusual and complex creatures, and hopefully I can make their love affair just as complex and unusual. Zenzele is no shrinking violet, waiting for her knight in shining armor to come rescue her. She is a powerful, sometimes ruthless woman. And Gon... well, he is just as sentimental and bloodthirsty as ever.
The book is looking like it's going to end up being about 120,000 words, twice as long as the other volumes. I hope it's twice as good, too!
I can never tell when I'm in the middle of writing something if it is good or not, but I will say that I am having a lot of fun with it. It's always a good sign when you get up every day and can't wait to return to your fictional universe.
I'll keep you guys updated as it nears completion!
RR
Monday, February 27, 2012
Paypal Says: "It's not us, it's the banks!" Just who is trying to censor what we read?
I received this email from Mark Coker, the founder of Smashwords, concerning the recent, onerous censorship demands placed on Smashwords and other ebook vendors by Paypal. Interestingly, Paypal has extended the deadline by which the artistic works they've forbidden must be removed from Smashwords. They also claim that they are being forced into this by credit card companies and banks. You know how I feel about censorship. I'll let you read what Smashwords sent me.
Mr. Coker writes:
I'm writing to give you an update on where things stand. We are extending the
deadline (previously set for tonight) for Smashwords authors/publishers/agents
to voluntarily remove certain content (erotica featuring themes of rape, bestiality,
incest) from Smashwords . I'll communicate the new deadline in a future email
once I gain new information.
I had another call with PayPal this morning. Our conversation is continuing
with them as I seek to achieve a less onerous, more sensible result.
There's a sliver of hope that I might be able to obtain a more positive, less
restrictive outcome than I communicated on Friday, yet it's unlikely we'll achieve
the true result I want (no censorship) in the near term. Today, PayPal hinted
at a more relaxed definition of prohibited content as, according to them [I'm
paraphrasing], "books for which rape, bestiality and incest are the major theme.
If rape, bestiality and incest are incidental plot points, then that content
might be allowable."
This represents a significant clarification in our ongoing attempt to delineate
the gray areas and push back the onerous, unfair and restrictive definitions
as they now stand. It's an opening, but it's not the final word from PayPal.
Our friends at PayPal are trying their their best to help Smashwords authors
and publishers.
This potential relaxation doesn't solve the broader issue of censorship. I think
if a writer wants to write fiction around the theme of [anything], I think they
should be able to write it if it's legal.
Today's progress, while encouraging, also opens up new gray area. How does one
judge whether the taboo subjects are incidental instances or major themes? Where
does one draw the line? The PayPal rep and I agreed our discussion will continue,
and they assured me our PayPal services will not be cut off as we both work in
good faith to advance the discussions.
A lot of people have been attacking Smashwords for my decision to comply with
PayPal's requirements. They're pointing their arrows at the wrong target, and
they're not helping their cause. We're working to effect positive long term
change for the entire Smashwords community, and that includes all our erotica
authors and readers. This change is possible only if we work together toward
a common goal. When people spread lies that this is all part of a Smashwords
plot to dispose of "icky books" (their words, not mine), or try to portray our
actions as some sexist attack against against women, or worse attacks I won't
repeat here, they're wrong. Despite the ugliness shown to me and Smashwords
over the weekend, I'm still working to protect these very people who attack us.
The attackers don't understand what we're doing on their behalf behind the scenes,
and even if they did understand I don't expect them to agree with our approach.
I'd rather work with PayPal in good faith than martyr the entire Smashwords
community upon the stake of this impending deadline.
This is only the first chapter in this battle. Even if we fail in the short
term we survive to fight another day. Regardless of the near term outcome, we
will continue to engage to effect positive change with your help.
Over the weekend, many Smashwords authors and publishers demanded we abandon
PayPal and find a new payment processor. It's not so simple, and it doesn't
solve the greater problem hanging over everyone's head. PayPal is trying to
implement the requirements of credit card companies, banks and credit unions.
This is where it's all originating. These same requirements will eventually
rain down upon every other payment processor. PayPal is trying to maintain their
relationships with the credit card companies and banks, just as we want to maintain
our relationship with PayPal. People who argue PayPal is the evil villain and
we should drop them are missing the bigger picture. Should we give up on accepting
credit cards forever? The answer is no. This goes beyond PayPal. Imagine the
implications if credit card companies start going after the major ebook retailers
who sell erotica?
My objective is for PayPal and Smashwords to pull the credit card companies into
a more open discussion about these issues. I want all financial institutions
to reevaluate their policies. I want the banks to change or clarify their policies
toward something more enlightened. I want PayPal to loosen their policies. We
need financial institutions to get out of the business of telling writers what
they can write and what readers can read. Without this much-needed debate, the
slippery slope gets more slippery for all indies.
Indie authors are the biggest publishers of erotica. Already, one retailer/distributor,
Bookstrand, decided to drop all indies from their store. I can only assume
they decided the angry authors were more trouble than they were worth. Our business
is all about serving indie authors, so even if some segments of our author community
are shooting arrows at us, we still want to help them work through this. The
campaign at hand goes beyond erotica authors. It's an indie issue. Indies are
breaking the boundaries previously set by large traditional publishers. This
boundary-breaking scares people. We should welcome the debate about what a "good
book" should look like. I think a good book is anything legal that readers want
to read, even if I don't want to read it myself.
This campaign represents an incredible long shot. To move this forward, I need
your help. Even if you don't publish in the categories directly impacted by
this crackdown, this campaign matters to you.
What can you do to move things forward? First, direct your attention where it
matters most. Contact your credit card company or congressperson and tell them
you want financial services companies out of the business of censoring what writers
and readers are free to imagine with fiction. Blog about it. Tweet about it.
Contact your favorite blogger and encourage them to raise awareness. Start
petitions and tell financial institutions you want their censors out of your
head. Contact the media. The media, with your urging, has the power to shine
a bright light on the dangerous slipperly slope of censorship by financial institutions.
If the media (both traditional and social) calls on credit card companies and
banks to honestly answer these simple questions, then they'll either be compelled
to acknowledge the absurdity of their policies or they'll be compelled to rewrite
their policies. This troublesome tide can shift if financial institutions are
forced to answer why they're prohibiting legal fiction.
I realize my message to you today cannot possibly answer all the questions you
may have. Know that we're working for all authors, even those likely to suffer
from whatever ultimate changes we implement in the near term. We all want censors
off our backs and out of our heads, and if that's not the result we achieve,
then we'll at least work to get you more clearly defined rules. Bear with us.
I will post this message in the Smashwords Press room at http://www.smashwords.com/press
so it's archived.
Thanks,
Mark Coker
Founder
Smashwords
Mr. Coker writes:
I'm writing to give you an update on where things stand. We are extending the
deadline (previously set for tonight) for Smashwords authors/publishers/agents
to voluntarily remove certain content (erotica featuring themes of rape, bestiality,
incest) from Smashwords . I'll communicate the new deadline in a future email
once I gain new information.
I had another call with PayPal this morning. Our conversation is continuing
with them as I seek to achieve a less onerous, more sensible result.
There's a sliver of hope that I might be able to obtain a more positive, less
restrictive outcome than I communicated on Friday, yet it's unlikely we'll achieve
the true result I want (no censorship) in the near term. Today, PayPal hinted
at a more relaxed definition of prohibited content as, according to them [I'm
paraphrasing], "books for which rape, bestiality and incest are the major theme.
If rape, bestiality and incest are incidental plot points, then that content
might be allowable."
This represents a significant clarification in our ongoing attempt to delineate
the gray areas and push back the onerous, unfair and restrictive definitions
as they now stand. It's an opening, but it's not the final word from PayPal.
Our friends at PayPal are trying their their best to help Smashwords authors
and publishers.
This potential relaxation doesn't solve the broader issue of censorship. I think
if a writer wants to write fiction around the theme of [anything], I think they
should be able to write it if it's legal.
Today's progress, while encouraging, also opens up new gray area. How does one
judge whether the taboo subjects are incidental instances or major themes? Where
does one draw the line? The PayPal rep and I agreed our discussion will continue,
and they assured me our PayPal services will not be cut off as we both work in
good faith to advance the discussions.
A lot of people have been attacking Smashwords for my decision to comply with
PayPal's requirements. They're pointing their arrows at the wrong target, and
they're not helping their cause. We're working to effect positive long term
change for the entire Smashwords community, and that includes all our erotica
authors and readers. This change is possible only if we work together toward
a common goal. When people spread lies that this is all part of a Smashwords
plot to dispose of "icky books" (their words, not mine), or try to portray our
actions as some sexist attack against against women, or worse attacks I won't
repeat here, they're wrong. Despite the ugliness shown to me and Smashwords
over the weekend, I'm still working to protect these very people who attack us.
The attackers don't understand what we're doing on their behalf behind the scenes,
and even if they did understand I don't expect them to agree with our approach.
I'd rather work with PayPal in good faith than martyr the entire Smashwords
community upon the stake of this impending deadline.
This is only the first chapter in this battle. Even if we fail in the short
term we survive to fight another day. Regardless of the near term outcome, we
will continue to engage to effect positive change with your help.
Over the weekend, many Smashwords authors and publishers demanded we abandon
PayPal and find a new payment processor. It's not so simple, and it doesn't
solve the greater problem hanging over everyone's head. PayPal is trying to
implement the requirements of credit card companies, banks and credit unions.
This is where it's all originating. These same requirements will eventually
rain down upon every other payment processor. PayPal is trying to maintain their
relationships with the credit card companies and banks, just as we want to maintain
our relationship with PayPal. People who argue PayPal is the evil villain and
we should drop them are missing the bigger picture. Should we give up on accepting
credit cards forever? The answer is no. This goes beyond PayPal. Imagine the
implications if credit card companies start going after the major ebook retailers
who sell erotica?
My objective is for PayPal and Smashwords to pull the credit card companies into
a more open discussion about these issues. I want all financial institutions
to reevaluate their policies. I want the banks to change or clarify their policies
toward something more enlightened. I want PayPal to loosen their policies. We
need financial institutions to get out of the business of telling writers what
they can write and what readers can read. Without this much-needed debate, the
slippery slope gets more slippery for all indies.
Indie authors are the biggest publishers of erotica. Already, one retailer/distributor,
Bookstrand, decided to drop all indies from their store. I can only assume
they decided the angry authors were more trouble than they were worth. Our business
is all about serving indie authors, so even if some segments of our author community
are shooting arrows at us, we still want to help them work through this. The
campaign at hand goes beyond erotica authors. It's an indie issue. Indies are
breaking the boundaries previously set by large traditional publishers. This
boundary-breaking scares people. We should welcome the debate about what a "good
book" should look like. I think a good book is anything legal that readers want
to read, even if I don't want to read it myself.
This campaign represents an incredible long shot. To move this forward, I need
your help. Even if you don't publish in the categories directly impacted by
this crackdown, this campaign matters to you.
What can you do to move things forward? First, direct your attention where it
matters most. Contact your credit card company or congressperson and tell them
you want financial services companies out of the business of censoring what writers
and readers are free to imagine with fiction. Blog about it. Tweet about it.
Contact your favorite blogger and encourage them to raise awareness. Start
petitions and tell financial institutions you want their censors out of your
head. Contact the media. The media, with your urging, has the power to shine
a bright light on the dangerous slipperly slope of censorship by financial institutions.
If the media (both traditional and social) calls on credit card companies and
banks to honestly answer these simple questions, then they'll either be compelled
to acknowledge the absurdity of their policies or they'll be compelled to rewrite
their policies. This troublesome tide can shift if financial institutions are
forced to answer why they're prohibiting legal fiction.
I realize my message to you today cannot possibly answer all the questions you
may have. Know that we're working for all authors, even those likely to suffer
from whatever ultimate changes we implement in the near term. We all want censors
off our backs and out of our heads, and if that's not the result we achieve,
then we'll at least work to get you more clearly defined rules. Bear with us.
I will post this message in the Smashwords Press room at http://www.smashwords.com/press
so it's archived.
Thanks,
Mark Coker
Founder
Smashwords
Friday, February 24, 2012
Paypal Wants to Censor What You Read!
I just got this email from Smashwords:
Dear Smashwords Authors, Publishers and Literary Agents,
This email is being sent to all authors, publishers and agents who have published
erotica at Smashwords. We will also post this message to Site Updates and the
Press Room.
According to our records, you pubish 0 erotica-categorized title(s) out of 0
title(s) now live in the Smashwords system. This message may or may not pertain
to you.
Today we are modifying our Terms of Service to clarify our policies regarding
erotic fiction that contains bestiality, rape and incest. If you write in any
of these categories, please carefully read the instructions below and remove
such content from Smashwords. If you don’t write in these categories, you can
disregard this message.
On Saturday, February 18, PayPal’s enforcement division contacted Smashwords
with an ultimatum. As with the other ebook retailers affected by this enforcement,
PayPal gave us only a few days to achieve compliance otherwise they threatened
to deactivate our PayPal services. I've had multiple conversations with PayPal
over the last several days to better understand their requirements. Their team
has been helpful, forthcoming and supportive of the Smashwords mission. I appreciate
their willingness to engage in dialogue. Although they have tried their best
to delineate their policies, gray areas remain.
Their hot buttons are bestiality, rape-for-titillation, incest and underage erotica.
The underage erotica is not a problem for us. We already have some of the industry’s
strictest policies prohibiting underage characters (we don’t even allow non-participating
minors to appear in erotica), and our vetting team is always on the lookout for
"barely legal" content where supposed adults are placed in underage situations.
The other three areas of bestiality, rape and incest were less well-defined in
our Terms of Service (https://www.smashwords.com/about/tos) before today. I’ll
tackle these one-by-one below, and I'll provide you a summary of the changes
that will go into effect immediately.
*Incest:* Until now, we didn’t have a policy prohibiting incest between consenting
adults, or its non-biological variation commonly known as "Pseudo-incest." Neither
did our retailer partners. We’ve noticed a surge of PI books over the last few
months, and many of them have "Daddy" in the title. I wouldn't be surprised
if the surge in "Daddy" titles prompted PayPal to pursue this purge (I don't
know). PI usually explores sexual relations between consenting adult stepchildren
with their step parents, or between step-siblings. Effectively immediately,
we no longer allow incest of any variety in erotica.
Like many writers, censorship of any form greatly concerns me. It is with some
reluctance that I have made the decision to prohibit incest-themed erotica at
Smashwords. Regardless of your opinion on incest, it’s a slippery slope when
we allow others to control what we think and write. Fiction is fantasy. It’s
not real. It unfolds in our imagination. I’ve always believed fiction writers
and readers should have the freedom to explore diverse topics and situations
in the privacy of their own mind. From an imagination perspective, erotica is
little different from a literary novel that puts us inside the mind of farm animals
(1984), or a thriller novel that puts us inside the mind of a terrorist, or a
horror novel that puts us inside the mind of an axe-murderer or their victim.
All fiction takes us somewhere. We read fiction to be moved, and to feel.
Sometimes we want to feel touched, moved, or disturbed. A reader should have
the right to feel moved however they desire to be moved.
Incest, however, carries thorny baggage. The legality of incest is murky. It
creates a potential legal liability for Smashwords as our business and our books
become more present in more jurisdictions around the world. Anything that threatens
Smashwords directly threatens our ability to serve the greater interests of all
Smashwords authors, publishers, retailers and customers who rely upon us as the
world’s leading distributor of indie ebooks. The business considerations compel
me to not fall on the sword for incest. I realize this is an imperfect decision.
The slippery slope is dangerous, but I believe this imperfect decision is in
the best interest of the community we serve.
*Bestiality:* Until now, we didn’t have a stated policy regarding bestiality.
I like animals. Call me old fashioned or hypocritical (I’m not a vegetarian),
but I don’t want to be a party to anyone enjoying animals for sexual gratification,
for the same reason we’ve never allowed pedophilia books. I don’t want to publish
it, sell it, or distribute it. The TOS is now modified to reflect this. Note
this does not apply to shape-shifters common in paranormal romance provided the
were-creature characters are getting it on in their human form. Sorry I need
to clarify it that way, but we don’t want to see bestiality erotica masquerading
as paranormal romance.
*Rape:* Although our Terms of Service prohibits books that advocate violence
against others, we did not specifically identify rape. This was an oversight
on our part. Now we have clarified the policy. We do not want books that contain
rape for the purpose of titillation. At Smashwords, rape has no longer has a
place in erotica. It has no place anywhere else if the purpose is to titillate.
Non-consensual BDSM - or any other form of non-consensual violence against another
person - is prohibited.
*NEXT STEPS:* If you have titles at Smashwords that are now expressly forbidden,
by the end of day Monday (Feb 27), please click to your Dashboard and click UNPUBLISH then click ARCHIVE. This will also cause our automated systems
This email is being sent to all authors, publishers and agents who have published
erotica at Smashwords. We will also post this message to Site Updates and the
Press Room.
According to our records, you pubish 0 erotica-categorized title(s) out of 0
title(s) now live in the Smashwords system. This message may or may not pertain
to you.
Today we are modifying our Terms of Service to clarify our policies regarding
erotic fiction that contains bestiality, rape and incest. If you write in any
of these categories, please carefully read the instructions below and remove
such content from Smashwords. If you don’t write in these categories, you can
disregard this message.
On Saturday, February 18, PayPal’s enforcement division contacted Smashwords
with an ultimatum. As with the other ebook retailers affected by this enforcement,
PayPal gave us only a few days to achieve compliance otherwise they threatened
to deactivate our PayPal services. I've had multiple conversations with PayPal
over the last several days to better understand their requirements. Their team
has been helpful, forthcoming and supportive of the Smashwords mission. I appreciate
their willingness to engage in dialogue. Although they have tried their best
to delineate their policies, gray areas remain.
Their hot buttons are bestiality, rape-for-titillation, incest and underage erotica.
The underage erotica is not a problem for us. We already have some of the industry’s
strictest policies prohibiting underage characters (we don’t even allow non-participating
minors to appear in erotica), and our vetting team is always on the lookout for
"barely legal" content where supposed adults are placed in underage situations.
The other three areas of bestiality, rape and incest were less well-defined in
our Terms of Service (https://www.smashwords.com/about/tos) before today. I’ll
tackle these one-by-one below, and I'll provide you a summary of the changes
that will go into effect immediately.
*Incest:* Until now, we didn’t have a policy prohibiting incest between consenting
adults, or its non-biological variation commonly known as "Pseudo-incest." Neither
did our retailer partners. We’ve noticed a surge of PI books over the last few
months, and many of them have "Daddy" in the title. I wouldn't be surprised
if the surge in "Daddy" titles prompted PayPal to pursue this purge (I don't
know). PI usually explores sexual relations between consenting adult stepchildren
with their step parents, or between step-siblings. Effectively immediately,
we no longer allow incest of any variety in erotica.
Like many writers, censorship of any form greatly concerns me. It is with some
reluctance that I have made the decision to prohibit incest-themed erotica at
Smashwords. Regardless of your opinion on incest, it’s a slippery slope when
we allow others to control what we think and write. Fiction is fantasy. It’s
not real. It unfolds in our imagination. I’ve always believed fiction writers
and readers should have the freedom to explore diverse topics and situations
in the privacy of their own mind. From an imagination perspective, erotica is
little different from a literary novel that puts us inside the mind of farm animals
(1984), or a thriller novel that puts us inside the mind of a terrorist, or a
horror novel that puts us inside the mind of an axe-murderer or their victim.
All fiction takes us somewhere. We read fiction to be moved, and to feel.
Sometimes we want to feel touched, moved, or disturbed. A reader should have
the right to feel moved however they desire to be moved.
Incest, however, carries thorny baggage. The legality of incest is murky. It
creates a potential legal liability for Smashwords as our business and our books
become more present in more jurisdictions around the world. Anything that threatens
Smashwords directly threatens our ability to serve the greater interests of all
Smashwords authors, publishers, retailers and customers who rely upon us as the
world’s leading distributor of indie ebooks. The business considerations compel
me to not fall on the sword for incest. I realize this is an imperfect decision.
The slippery slope is dangerous, but I believe this imperfect decision is in
the best interest of the community we serve.
*Bestiality:* Until now, we didn’t have a stated policy regarding bestiality.
I like animals. Call me old fashioned or hypocritical (I’m not a vegetarian),
but I don’t want to be a party to anyone enjoying animals for sexual gratification,
for the same reason we’ve never allowed pedophilia books. I don’t want to publish
it, sell it, or distribute it. The TOS is now modified to reflect this. Note
this does not apply to shape-shifters common in paranormal romance provided the
were-creature characters are getting it on in their human form. Sorry I need
to clarify it that way, but we don’t want to see bestiality erotica masquerading
as paranormal romance.
*Rape:* Although our Terms of Service prohibits books that advocate violence
against others, we did not specifically identify rape. This was an oversight
on our part. Now we have clarified the policy. We do not want books that contain
rape for the purpose of titillation. At Smashwords, rape has no longer has a
place in erotica. It has no place anywhere else if the purpose is to titillate.
Non-consensual BDSM - or any other form of non-consensual violence against another
person - is prohibited.
*NEXT STEPS:* If you have titles at Smashwords that are now expressly forbidden,
by the end of day Monday (Feb 27), please click to your Dashboard and click UNPUBLISH then click ARCHIVE. This will also cause our automated systems
to remove the titles from retail distribution.
DO NOT try to hide or obfuscate violating content by changing book titles, book
descriptions and tags. If we discover such shenanigans, said authors/publishers
will risk account deletion and forfeiture of any accrued earnings, per our Terms
of Service.
We take violations of the TOS seriously, because such violations jeopardize the
opportunities for your fellow authors.
We do not want to see PayPal clamp down further against erotica. We think our
authors should be allowed to publish erotica. Erotica, despite the attacks it
faces from moralists, is a category worthy of protection. Erotica allows readers
to safely explore aspects of sexuality that they might never want to explore
in the real world.
The moralists forget that we humans are all sexual creatures, and the biggest
sex organ is the brain. If it were not the case, none of us would be here.
Erotica authors are facing discrimination, plain and simple. Topics that are
perfectly acceptable in mainstream fiction are verboten in erotica. That’s not
fair. Our decisions today are imperfect. Please, act responsibly, don’t try
to game the system or publish content that pushes the limits of legality. Help
us continue to help indie authors around the world to continue to publish and
distribute with freedom.
*THINGS TO AVOID:* Avoid using words such as 'bestiality,' 'rape,' 'incest,'
'underage,' or 'barely legal' in book titles, book descriptions or keyword tags,
otherwise Smashwords may conclude you’re violating the Terms of Service, or trying
to push the limits. If you’re writing non-erotic works, and any of these words
are necessary, then you’re okay.
On Tuesday (Feb 28) we will begin removing content that we deem in violation.
When we remove a title, you will receive an email notifying you of such, and
that email will append this letter along with instructions on how to notify us
if we made an error. I promise you, we will make mistakes, so please work with
us, take a deep breath and honor us with your patience.
If you believe we removed something in error, please click "Comments/questions,"
mention the title we removed, provide the hyperlink to said title, and provide
your *calm* reasoning for why we should reconsider.
Our support team is backlogged, so it may take several days for them to respond.
As we mention in the Terms of Service, we reserve the right to remove anything
for any reason. That said, we will also try to make our decisions with care
and prudence.
You might wonder if Smashwords should simply switch to a different payment provider.
It’s not so easy. PayPal is designed into the wiring of the Smashwords platform.
They run the credit card processing for our retail store, and they’re how we
pay our authors and publishers. PayPal is also an extremely popular, trusted
payment option for our customers. It is not feasible for us to simply switch
to another provider, should such a suitable provider even exist, especially with
so few days notice.
Please note our Terms of Service is subject to additional modifications as we
work to bring Smashwords into compliance with PayPal requirements. Let’s hope
today’s actions mark the limit of the slippery slope.
Significant gray area remain. Erotica is still permitted, though if authors
try to push the limits of what’s permitted, we risk further clamping down. Please
be responsible. Don’t go there. If you’re going to push the limits, push the
limits of great writing, not the limits of legality.
Thank you for assisting our compliance efforts on such short notice. We know
these decisions will be upsetting to some of our authors and publishers, and
for that we apologize. We do believe, however, that these decisions will place
us on a stronger footing to represent the best interests all indie authors and
publishers from here forward.
Best wishes,
Mark Coker
Founder
Smashwords
DO NOT try to hide or obfuscate violating content by changing book titles, book
descriptions and tags. If we discover such shenanigans, said authors/publishers
will risk account deletion and forfeiture of any accrued earnings, per our Terms
of Service.
We take violations of the TOS seriously, because such violations jeopardize the
opportunities for your fellow authors.
We do not want to see PayPal clamp down further against erotica. We think our
authors should be allowed to publish erotica. Erotica, despite the attacks it
faces from moralists, is a category worthy of protection. Erotica allows readers
to safely explore aspects of sexuality that they might never want to explore
in the real world.
The moralists forget that we humans are all sexual creatures, and the biggest
sex organ is the brain. If it were not the case, none of us would be here.
Erotica authors are facing discrimination, plain and simple. Topics that are
perfectly acceptable in mainstream fiction are verboten in erotica. That’s not
fair. Our decisions today are imperfect. Please, act responsibly, don’t try
to game the system or publish content that pushes the limits of legality. Help
us continue to help indie authors around the world to continue to publish and
distribute with freedom.
*THINGS TO AVOID:* Avoid using words such as 'bestiality,' 'rape,' 'incest,'
'underage,' or 'barely legal' in book titles, book descriptions or keyword tags,
otherwise Smashwords may conclude you’re violating the Terms of Service, or trying
to push the limits. If you’re writing non-erotic works, and any of these words
are necessary, then you’re okay.
On Tuesday (Feb 28) we will begin removing content that we deem in violation.
When we remove a title, you will receive an email notifying you of such, and
that email will append this letter along with instructions on how to notify us
if we made an error. I promise you, we will make mistakes, so please work with
us, take a deep breath and honor us with your patience.
If you believe we removed something in error, please click "Comments/questions,"
mention the title we removed, provide the hyperlink to said title, and provide
your *calm* reasoning for why we should reconsider.
Our support team is backlogged, so it may take several days for them to respond.
As we mention in the Terms of Service, we reserve the right to remove anything
for any reason. That said, we will also try to make our decisions with care
and prudence.
You might wonder if Smashwords should simply switch to a different payment provider.
It’s not so easy. PayPal is designed into the wiring of the Smashwords platform.
They run the credit card processing for our retail store, and they’re how we
pay our authors and publishers. PayPal is also an extremely popular, trusted
payment option for our customers. It is not feasible for us to simply switch
to another provider, should such a suitable provider even exist, especially with
so few days notice.
Please note our Terms of Service is subject to additional modifications as we
work to bring Smashwords into compliance with PayPal requirements. Let’s hope
today’s actions mark the limit of the slippery slope.
Significant gray area remain. Erotica is still permitted, though if authors
try to push the limits of what’s permitted, we risk further clamping down. Please
be responsible. Don’t go there. If you’re going to push the limits, push the
limits of great writing, not the limits of legality.
Thank you for assisting our compliance efforts on such short notice. We know
these decisions will be upsetting to some of our authors and publishers, and
for that we apologize. We do believe, however, that these decisions will place
us on a stronger footing to represent the best interests all indie authors and
publishers from here forward.
Best wishes,
Mark Coker
Founder
Smashwords
......................................................................................
ROD SAYS:-----
I do not have erotica on smashwords, but I am always concerned about censorship-- of any form. I do not condone nor do I engage in child pornography or bestiality, but fiction is not real. It is fantasy. By Paypal's standards, erotic works like The 120 Days of Sodom would be banned. The Story of O. Even mainstream fantasy novels like Anne Rice's The Wolf Gift would be banned, due to a pseudo-bestiality sex scene between a human female and a werewolf. The biggest problem I have is that Paypal is not a legal entity. It is a payment processing company and has no legal or moral jurisdiction to deem what is or is not acceptable for the public to read. What's next? Is Comcast going to tell you what you can and cannot read online? Is your electric company going to tell you you can only watch TV before 10 PM because you should get plenty of sleep? The point is, every attempt at control or censorship is an attempt to take away your rights as a free human being to live your life as you see fit. This payment processing company has no more right to control your fantasy life than it has to dictate what you eat, where you work, or how often you have sex. I understand that some subject matter in erotica is going to be illegal, but Paypal is demanding that anything remotely similar to the subjects they don't like are also forbidden. Does this ban on all forms of bestiality include non-human sex, like Kirk getting jiggy with a green alien chick from Zoltana IV? What about a werewolf and a vampire doing it? Or-- and I am guilty of putting this in a book-- sex with zombies? That's technically necrophilia. Hell, their ban on incest-type stories include forms of sexual activity that are actually legal in real life-- like step-relatives or cousins. THEY'RE EVEN TRYING TO BAN SPECIFIC WORDS!!! I'm not saying any of this is cool or something I would want to do in real life, but censorship is such a slippery slope, and once you let someone push you down that slide, you don't stop til you hit the rocks at the bottom.
Please send Paypal an email and tell them you don't need them to approve the stories you read.
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