First part of a story, be warned though!

Here is a little something I wrote.  Not my first Erotica, but I’m not very good at it so be warned.  It’s also very adult in nature and should be read only if you like this kind of stuff.  Very explicit, etc.

Demons and Lovers

She could only stand still with a growing sense of dread. The storm outside was like her dread, growing, but in a violent way. Her travels had brought her this far with no incident, but now it was all about to change. The only thing remotely close to take shelter in was a house on the hill. An old home, more the size of a castle. She debated whether to go to it or not, but a strike of lightning close enough for her to feel the heat roll off of changed her mind. The wetness of the storm was almost to her bones, or at least it felt that way. Things could always be worse, she told herself, but it wasn’t working and before she knew it her feet were carrying her towards the building that held the unknown.

What had become of her mount, more than that though, her friend. She had raised him from a colt and considered him closer than any person. But alas he was run off into the darkness when a former bolt of light caused a clasp of thunder so loud that it had stunned her and frightened him. Now she was alone in the night, scared, wet, and lost. The foreboding shadow on the hill she was now heading for was the only thing that made sense, good or bad.

The road, no trail that led up to the building was not either in the rain.  It was more of a trail of mud and debris.   The area around the place must not have been in good condition, as weeds, small rocks, and anything else that the slew of water could carry into the formerly matted down path was there, to include larger insects and spiders.  Several of which tried to grasp on to her lower extremities.

She had been foolish the prior morning.  Many of those at the Inn who were local had said it was going to rain, she had not listened and opted for a shorter dress to make her riding through the countryside more tolerable in the heat.  But she did put on longer stockings, which were now acting as something easy for the bugs to latch onto and try and make their way up her legs and onto her thighs.  She swatted at them as she made her way up the small creek, the former path.

Just as she thought she had gotten the last of them she felt her foot slip.  Then her face was wet.  She had fallen into the makeshift stream and was more soaked than before.  She stood carefully, not wanting to go down again in the mud, which also made walking more difficult.  It was so slippery now.  She looed down at herself and saw that her summer dress was clinging to every part of her and anyone from a distance would think she was out in this weather naked in just a cloak.

Normally, she would have been embarrassed, but she was now colder and more miserable than before and continued towards the home or whatever it was.  She finally made it to the front, which had a covering.  A moment of respite from the rain was welcome, but the cold was still with her.  A gust of wind blew fast and low between her legs.  It was so precise and quick that it made her quiver and shake for a moment.  She didn’t know what it was or the feeling and thought she liked it, but then she snapped back before being able to revel in it when the cold hit her more.

She pulled the cloak tightly around her to try and capture some kind of warmth.  Then she walked to the door or gate.  It was larger than most doors but not to the degree that it could be a gate.  The distinction quickly lost its way in her mind as her only thought was to get in and try to not freeze.  A large ring hung on the door.  She reached out and swung it down to knock on the door.  A loud echo boomed through the inside.

She stood, shivering.  Another crack of thunder erupted.  The light provided her a glimpse of the mechanism holding the knocker she had just used.  It was in the shape of nose that was on some sort of monster.  Something she had never seen before, but it looked like something her father had said in the stories that he had told her when she was a child.  She could also see statues to either side of the door that matched the thing on the door, but much larger and with bodies.  The one thing that was starkly different than other statues she had seen was that these ones appeared to be in positions of agony.  Or it might have been ecstasy, she couldn’t tell in the darkness and with only a flash of sight of them.

The temptation to go over and look closer, maybe even touch them came over her.  Something primal was calling to her.  She took a step towards the one on her left and an urge to caress it started to intrude into her thoughts.  Then the door opened.

The figure before her appeared to be an older woman.  She held a lantern in her left hand that hung by her waist, so her head wasn’t clear.  She looked into the building and then at the older woman.  Though her face was mostly shrouded in darkness she could tell that her gaze was on the drenched body before her.  The look was long, almost as the way a wolf at a sheep it plans on having for dinner.

She felt the longing looks had a type of hunger behind them.  It was eerie in a way she had never felt before.  Finally, the older woman broke the silence.  “Dear child, what are you doing out in a storm like this?  Get in here and sit by the fire.”

Without a word she walked inside and then heard the large door almost slam behind her.  The noise scared her, and she stood still a moment.  Then she jumped when a hand touched her back.

“You are a skittish thing, aren’t you?” the old woman said, “And soaked to the bone.  This way.”

She was led to a fire on the other side of the large entryway and shown a chair to sit in.  She did.  Then the woman continued, “I think we have some old clothes around here if you want to get out of those wet things.”

All she could do from the chair.

The old woman looked at her with curiosity, “If you are mute just nod, but it would make things easier if I knew your name child. You don’t have to say more than you feel you need to though.”

She looked at the old woman, whose face was in full view in the fire light.  She looked kindly enough, and even trustworthy.  Not that she had much choice at this point.  “My name is Tia.  And thank you for taking me in.”

“No, please.  Anyone would have.  It is awful out there and would be a crime to let anyone stay in it.”

“Still, thank you. And what should I call you?”

“Miranda works for me, my dear. You just sit there for a moment.”  Miranda grabbed a blanket from a couch that was nearby and draped it over the shivering Tia.  “I will fetch those clothes now.  There is some warm cider in the kettle in front of the fire if you want some.”  She then disappeared.

Tia saw the kettle and some cups near it.  She reached down and poured one.  As she sat back, wrapped in the warm blanket, she sipped.  The feeling of the warm liquid coursing its way down her throat was wonderful and she was content for a moment.  Then she saw them.

They were hanging there, just above the line of sight of someone who just walked in.  The darkness and her coldness made her not look up when she came in originally.  Now that she was more comfortable and was by the fire, the light was able to show her the images on the walls.  Mostly paintings, but a tapestry or two as well.  They looked like depictions of the statues outside.  As if an entire motif was in use for the place.

All Tia could do was stare at the ones closest, those that she could se the most of.  The urge that she had felt to touch the statues outside was returning as was a smaller version of the feeling she felt from the wind that blew on her.  But she knew that she couldn’t touch the paintings, they were too high and out of reach.  Instead her mind was telling her to touch herself in their place.  She wanted to.  She almost needed to.

Her right hand placed the cup, now empty, of cider down while her left pulled up her dress under the blanket.  Then her right hand went to where she wanted to touch.  She had never done it before, but it seemed so familiar and natural to her.  Soon she was becoming wet again, but in a new way.  She looked at the paintings again to refresh her need to keep touching.  That’s when she noticed what looked like several pairs of eyes peeking at her from a far corner of the room.

For a moment she was startled and stopped.  She looked at the corner again, but her eyes were driven back to the paintings on the wall.  It was as if all her inhibitions were now lost.  She started on herself again.  Soon she let go of the blanket and spread her legs in front of the fire.  Her hand started to move faster and faster, she began to feel better and better.  Then she let out a whimper as a feeling of pleasure took her over and she didn’t care who was watching.

After her climax she quickly came back to her senses and sat back in the chair and wrapped herself back up, feeling ashamed.  Miranda reappeared holding some clothes.  She drew closer and saw Tia’s face red.  “Oh, I really had hoped you would have warmed up faster.  I was afraid you might have gotten sick or such out there.”

Tia looked down, embarrassed.  Then Miranda looked down and saw drops of something on the floor.  She spoke as if she knew what had happened, “Don’t be ashamed of it darling.  This place has an effect on people of a, um, passionate nature.”

Tia looked up at her and a kindly look greeted her as Miranda held out the clothes. “Change into these and you’ll feel much better.  There is a room over there you can use.”  She said pointing towards the corner where Tia had seen the eyes.

She hesitated to get up.

“Is something wrong dear?” Miranda said.

“Um, I thought I saw someone watching me from over there.”

“Oh, them.  Don’t worry about them.  They are always curious when we get visitors.”


“Our children.  As long as you aren’t mean to them, they’ll be fine and stay out of your way.”


“My, you do have a lot of questions.  Yes, myself and the mistress of this place.  We take in those that others don’t want or those that we can offer more to than the world they knew.  But save your questions.  Get changed.”

Tia nodded and got up.  She made her way towards the corner and saw a door.  She opened it and went in.  The lantern in the room was brighter than the one Miranda had greeted her at the door with.  It was a large washroom and was almost fully revealed to her by the light.  Across its walls was a mural similar to the paintings that adorned the walls in the main hall.  There was almost no time before she felt the urge again.

She set the dry clothes on the basin and then took her own off.  Instead of changing though she grabbed the lantern and walked around the room to study the art in detail.  The images were of things she had no idea of, but that seemed to awaken carnal desires in her inner self.  There were things happening that she could recognize.  She knew of them because of things her mother had explained to her recently.  But the things partaking in the images were not all human.

They had human traits.  The men depicted were normal, some well-endowed, or so Tia thought.  Having never seen one in person made it hard to say.  The women, or what Tia thought were women were in various forms.  Some had wings, some horns, others fangs, and still others hooves as well as in various combinations.  They seemed to be partaking in the acts reserved for married couples.  Some of the art depicted many of them doing those things all at once.  Tia didn’t understand it all, but it was driving her to want to touch herself again.  The eyes of the feminine creatures seemed to be looking at her.  At one point she swore a pair even blinked.

Then a whispered voice from no where seemed to say, “Go ahead.  You know you want too.  It felt so good the last time.  It will be better this time.”

She didn’t need the voice, she had already planned on it again.  Tia laid the blanket out on the floor and with just her stockings on she lay down.  This time she spread her legs far apart and used both hands to touch herself.  She was wet once again, and it didn’t matter.  Now her eyes were open, and she was looking at the mural as she started to climax.  The art drove her more and more to want to feel better and better.  The added thought that the women in the pictures were watching her made it even better.

Soon her back was arching, and she was screaming, but didn’t realize that she was.  Finally, her back lowered and she could feel the soaked blanket beneath her.  She didn’t care.  She felt better than she ever had and more relaxed than she ever thought possible.  She laid there, still moaning and licked her fingers.  They tasted amazing.  She had no idea how long she had been here and how many times she had finished. And she didn’t care.

Where ya been, what ya been doing?

Like anyone really cares.  But in short been trying to work and write, with little success with either.

One thing I did manage was to finish the magical interdimensional vampire book.  Not the epic i was hoping for, but I think it’s alright.  The other things have sparked me to have ideas for other works while I decide what I want to try and do for my next project(s).

I am in the middle of a short story that was a spur of the moment thing and might even post it here when/if I finish it.  It is a journey into some kind of gothic erotic horror thing.  No idea, see where that goes.  Just the kind of different thing to let me know if I am able.  If it’s actually good, who knows.  I dabble a lot in areas that I have no real knowledge of.

There is also the two other books that are halfway done and just sitting there.  Along with National Write a Novel month coming up shortly, I have to plan out what I am going to do with that as well.  I missed the 2018 one and need to get on track for that.  I know that isn’t the best way to write for someone that knows they can, but I feel I can use it to get back on track.  2016 was the one that sparked my love of writing again and was the most productive I had ever been.

2017 I used to finish a couple of other projects.  I skipped a year because of school, but now that is done I need to get back too it.  I have only finished the one trilogy and have two others with a book or two done in them. Those have to be done and written, along with the rewrites I want to do for a couple of other things……  Just a lot of misc stuff I have to get done.

I wish planning to write was as easy as the act itself.  I’ve even done a lot of research for a couple of other ideas, one of them being horror, thus the new short story.  But a clear idea wasn’t present so i mixed it with some other genres, because why not?

There is also the contest I entered in Feb that was supposed to release the winners this month, and here we are in the last day of said month and I am still waiting.  I hate waiting.  I mean I have patience for some things, but when a deadline is given I expect that to be the case.  With no follow on information it’s hard to not be disappointed.  Not to mention that the book i submitted I can’t do anything else with until i know the results.

It was my military memoir, which everyone that’s read it says its good.  So yeah, I wouldn’t mind getting that out in the world, but its fate is waiting fro these results.  I mean even if I don’t win (which I doubt anyway), even an honorable mention would be good for a CV, cause writing is about accumulating lines on a CV.  It’s not like you can just toss stuff out and do anything with it.  I mean you can and might get lucky, but more targeted submissions is a way as well.

It was a contest for book length manuscripts written by veterans. It was the first year, I mean I only found out about it 2 weeks before the deadline, luckily I had something ready to go.  So how many vets write, are comfortable with submitting it, and have a book ready to go?  Not as many as open calls.  I had that going for me.  Now it’s just a waiting game.  Winning would be awesome sauce, but I have no illusions.

Speaking of that I am 10 pages into my second memoir. That one is going to be weird as I still have no real idea of where its going.  I have an overall concept of creating a sociological narrative through the eyes of personal perspective.  Sounds cool, right?  It usually does until i write it.  Then again I imagine a lot of people think that the summary of their tale sounds epic, but upon reading it falls short of the hype.  Whatever.  I can always fix it in post.

I think that is enough for now.  I promise to update more for all 5 of my readers.  Or however many since I am sure I lost a few with my last post…….

Make America Great Again…….. Suck start a Shotgun


I am going political, so sue me.

History, have you heard of it?

I just have to say from the get-go in this piece that if you are a Trump supporter, then go fuck yourself.  You are an ignorant piece of shit and should be put down.  The President is a fucking moron and should be impeached for his stupidity alone.  He makes W look like the best thing ever.  And by extension any fan of the new Republican party is an asshole too.

Now that the shitheads have stopped reading except those that want to get madder at being called out on their bullshit, I will take the chance to point out that I said supporters.  I don’t think those that voted for him are bad people.  I get it, everyone was sick of Clinton and all that and Trump was an unknown.  He said a lot of centrist things and might have appealed to a lot of people.  Even those just looking for a change.  Well now anyone with a brain knows better.

If you don’t know any better, then do us all a favor and go for a swim with cement blocks tied to your feet.   This goes for the new emboldened conservative party.  The days of respectable Republicans like McCain, Dole, and dare I say Bush are over.  Now they are the party of hate and oppression.  They want to reclaim the days of the Christian straight rich white man’s supremacy.  It is just that simple, and if you can’t see that then you have been brain washed by the propaganda.

I mean I hate to tell you white people, but you have lost all of the battles in the past where you tried to stay in control.  You still hold a lot of sway and you might prevail still, but history has shown you that you will lose.  Instead of trying to cut your losses and try to find a way to coexist and be peaceful, you continue to try and reclaim what you took by force.

Just to point out a few things, since you seem to have forgotten them.

Native Americans, the genocide wasn’t quite complete and now they have more rights than you.  Of course, you are still to oppress them and make their lives difficult.  Shame on them for living here first.  You killed them, you broke treaties with them, and tried to “civilize” them, but they are still here and fighting back.  History has shown that you are wrong and assholes.  Have they won?  Maybe not in the way most would hope, but the character they have shown compared to you makes them winners in the eyes of history.

The Chinese Exclusion Act.  They come here and help build this country and they you ban them.  Eventually it gets overturned and you rack up another loss.

This goes directly along with the Japanese internment camps.  Years after you had to pay reparations and issue an apology.  What is your problem with Asians?  Oh yeah, they aren’t white. Piss off then.

Don’t have a dick?  Then you get no rights.  Remember that?  You lost that fight too.  They are no longer your property and can not only vote but hold office.  The thing is you aren’t trying to take the vote from them or force their genocide, no you need them to make more white people.  Out breed them, the tactic of the Catholic church.  If they aren’t going to be the rich ones though then they can be the ignorant masses that vote for you.  No, you just want women to be property again, forcing them to be your brood mares.

I think that all of the anti-abortion laws show the true colors of those passing them. They don’t care. If they cared these laws would have additional measures to help. What about adoption?  Do you know how expensive it is? Why are there no provisions to help offset costs for people? If you are a middle-class family who could easily afford to raise a kid or two, you won’t after paying all the fees.  Those things could cost from $10k up. Make it less expensive and it would help.

Full on Sex education. Want less abortions? Teach real, comprehensive sex ed. Abstinence only has been proven not to work. This with cheap and easy access to birth control would lower accidental pregnancies by the boatload, ask Colorado about the success of this and look as Mississippi at the failure of the lack of.

The point being, I can’t believe that legislatures who are “pro-life” actually care when they don’t address the other things that would help lower unwanted pregnancies to even start with. And of course, once the baby is born, they could care less as well. If they were truly “pro” then they would help the whole way as well as try to make sure that abortions were never needed in the first place.  This is basically a way to relegate women back to being owned.  If not outright, then their bodies.

I would go on about the African American population, but we all know how you have treated them.  Slavery, Jim Crow, segregation, and everything else you can think of.  Now you just allow open season on them and keep pardoning the hunters.  Yes, their communities might not be what you think they should be.  But former presidential aides have gone on record stating that those communities were targeted with drugs and then police in order to oppress them.

I could sit here and tell you all about the things you’ve done to groups that are different than you, but you wouldn’t listen.  I have provided links to reputable sources for you to read, but that would require more than skimming a headline or listen to the Bigot News Network, yes I mean Fox.  So, you mouth breathing piece of shit I will continue on, to point out your small dicked concepts of being better than everyone one, even though you are nothing but a toxic piece of shit.

So, what if someone likes the same sex as them?  Do you?  No?  Then why give a fuck?  What consenting adults do in private is none of your damn business.  Most people are just like you.  They partake in intimate relations in their homes. Well, maybe not like you, you see they actually respect their partner(s) and see them as equal.  And they don’t care what you are, because in their minds you are free to love as you choose.  You are the one hung up on what other people’s genitals are up to. But if someone that is one of you is a pedophile or a rapist, then that’s fine, sorry I meant accused but you only allowed 1 week for vetting if any at all..  Yeah, Roy Moore and Brett Kavanaugh.

Then there is gender.  There are more than two you goddamn Neanderthal.  I am not saying that as an opinion, that is a FACT!! I know facts don’t matter to you, you inbred piece of donkey shit. .

Now if we could only get the difference between gender and gender identity across to you, you knuckle dragging feces slinger.  You might say it is mental illness, and I would take your opinion into account since you suffer from some kind of self-delusional complex.  Guess what though, the LBGT+ won, they can marry, but you are looking to take that away too.

Here is the news of the day.  Anyone who still supports Trump is essentially a Nazi.  Sure, get offended (like you already weren’t).  Most of the Nazi members were just everyday citizens like you.  It can be argued that they didn’t know about the camps or the death squads, and that is fair.  But they did know about the party’s beliefs.  The anti-sematic jargon as well as anti-communist and all the other hate politics.  You know Trump is a racist and misogynist, you know he promotes violence against those he hates.  So, like those Nazi party members that were just everyday people, you know what your party stands for.  The difference is that they didn’t know millions were being purged by that party.  You have the past to learn from and know where it can go.

That alone should make anyone that sees the similarities shiver with dread.  But not you, you embrace the hate full force.  I mean really, what does an immigrant (illegal or not) making shit money picking the fruit you eat have to do with you?  I’ll tell you, you get cheaper fruit.  They take the jobs you won’t.  Illegal immigrants are statistically more likely to obey laws than you, because they want to stay here.  None of this makes a difference though, because perfectly legal immigrants are harassed because of the blind hatred.  If they were asked if they were legal before getting harassed, maybe (and that’s a big maybe) you could say you are truly anti-illegal immigration, but since no one does then its just racist.

It’s called deflection, straw man, red herring, take your pick.  You are so dissatisfied with your life or the state of things that you need a scape goat and [insert group] here fits the bill depending on your brand of hatred.

How about another Nazi comparison?  Joseph Goebbels said, “The most brilliant propagandist technique will yield no success unless one fundamental principle is borne in mind constantly – it must confine itself to a few points and repeat them over and over.”   He started the modern version of bullshit politics and the Republican party has mastered it.  Want to see it in action?  Watch Fox News (though CNN can be as bad at times) or listen to Trump.  He lies so much I’m surprised he remembers his own name, then again, he may not, he just has it printed on everything to try and sell and I’m sure the people around him can tell him.

The point is, if you still support him, fuck you.  He’s an idiot, and a fucking despicable human being, and so are you for still following him.  You are immune to the truth (as is he) and believe the shit spewing from his pie hole.

There is no benefit to try and reason with people that support him either.  If you can’t see that hating minorities and women is a bad thing, then you have no reason to you.  Facts are obviously not going to help, so instead I think just calling you names and telling you how fucking stupid you are is the best way to go.  You are already shooting others, hitting them with cars, mailing bombs, so what are you going to do that isn’t already being practiced by the hate mongers?

The true problem is that the other side is failing to do anything of substance.  They see the hate filled rhetoric as a chance to capitalize politically instead of what it truly is, a sign of how divided the country really is.  Being so impotent to the real cause while trying to scrounge for the table scraps of their corporate overlords makes them about as worthless as Trump.  Inaction is the same.

Some are trying, but they are fighting with their “peers” and can’t get to the real problems and even when they do call out the assholes with strong language, they are chastised for it.  Trump can basically tell natural born citizens to “go back to their country” and get away with it, yet when he is called a racist, those that do it get chastised.  That is how fucked up we are.

So, in closing.  If you are a Trump supporter, go suck start a shotgun and do us all a favor.  If you are not, then do something about the others.  Support a politician that isn’t a piece of shit, or run your damn self, or at least let those that are willing do the job they were hired/elected to do.

Vampires Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – The Discovery

Greg pushed his cart down the sidewalk.  The streetlamps along the road gave off enough light for him to conduct his business.  He liked to go out in the early morning before the streets filled with people and cars.  It was quiet and calm.  He hated to interact with all the others once they appeared.  He made a conscious choice to avoid them whenever possible.  It wasn’t so much that he was opposed to people, but the way that they looked at him when he was out was uncomfortable to say the least.

The moonlight was enough to show his surroundings tonight as well.  It was a good night.  He liked the four o’clock hour.  All of the bars had closed and most of the more undesirables had called it a night as well.  It was a good time to collect the cans and other things that lay out in the dark world.  He would then take them to their respective recycling locations when he felt he had enough and then be able to get his essentials, food and cigarettes.

It wasn’t the life that he had planned for himself, he didn’t think that anyone in his situation had set out to be in it, but if one was able to adapt and learn it was surprisingly satisfying.  The key was to come to terms with it.  He had been in the dog eat dog world once and the stress had almost killed him.  Now he was happy to get by.  Between the parks in the spring and summer and the various shelters in the colder months he got by rather well.

The one thing he didn’t like was when those around him had a sad ending to their stories.  Those were mostly the people that couldn’t take being homeless.  Sure, there were a lot of addicts among his population, but they usually kept to themselves.  It was still depressing when something happened to them though.  That was another reason that Greg really never got close to anyone.  The thoughts of past friends that had moved on before he decided to become a loner came back to him as he entered the alley just to the side of The Shiny Badge.

It was a cop bar, but cops, on average, could get a little rowdier than most at times.  He also had an arrangement with the owner.  Greg had been his ears and eyes on the street for a few years when he was still a cop.  In return he had helped him out a bit, and now he left out whatever cans he had when he closed the bar at night.  Greg was here to pick those up, but on his way, he stopped at the dumpster to take a look.  One never knew what they might find.

The coat that he was wearing he had found in one about four blocks away the year before.  It had a hole in it and was covered in something.  Thankfully Greg had a sewing kit and just had to wash it.  Most likely it was just some spoiled kid who drank too much and stumbled, catching it on a door or something.  His standards resulted in it being discarded, and it became Greg’s win.  So, he lifted the right-side lid on the dumpster and looked in.  After a few minutes he determined that there was nothing of value in it.   He closed it and pushed his cart.  Then it stopped.

Greg tried to push a few more times, then finally went and looked at what was stopping it.  There was a pair of feet blocking the front wheel.  He leaned down.  He hoped it was just another bum like him passed out, but his gut was telling him differently.  His gut was right.

Greg got up and shifted his cart to go around the feet.  He went to the back of the alley and turned left.  The shock was still on him.  It’s not like he hadn’t seen a body before, but the suddenness of this one got to him.  He stopped and took deep breaths, trying to calm down.  He had gotten down and seen most of the body.  The man looked familiar.  He was a local dealer.  Not that Greg had a lot to do with him, but he had seen him around.  At least if it was who he thought, the clothes are what made him think it was who he thought it was.

He finally calmed down and got behind his cart.  Then he went a little further and took another left.  He was going to exit from the adjacent alley.  He thought about calling the police, but he wanted to get a bit away first.  He had to think for a few minutes to retrace his steps from the night.  He knew that if he did call it in that of course they would question him.  He wanted to make sure that someone of some camera could verify where he had been earlier.  If he got unlucky and got some rookie, he could be in for a long night or a rough time.  He had no money for a lawyer or anything.

Not that three hots and a cot for a few days in the county lock up would be the worst thing, but Greg’s biggest worry was his stuff.  If he was gone more than a few hours all of his stuff would be stolen and sold.  He didn’t want that.  There was an old pay phone a couple of blocks away.  It was outside the old bus station.  They moved it when the city decided to modernize itself.  Now it was being converted to fashionable townhouses, but the phone was still there.   He would pop out into the main road and make his way there.  He could have just as easily gone to the station himself, but that would mean a lot of questions.

He slowly made his way up the alley, that is when he saw it.  Another body.  This one was hastily hidden.  Sitting up right behind a stack of boxes that were along one of the walls.  The body was well dressed.  Not someone that would normally be in this area.  Greg immediately suspected that it was someone looking to score.  Then he thought of the first body.  They might be connected, but he wasn’t going to stick around to ponder it.

Now he knew he had to call it in.  But he hesitated.  The new body was right below a light.  The thing that stuck out besides the apparent fact that the person wasn’t from around here was the pair of holes in his neck.  There were small trails of blood right below them.  It was something out of a bad eighties’ horror movie.  Greg just stood there and stared for a long time.  He had never seen anything like it before and it was too odd not to look at.  This was one thing he wasn’t going to tell the cops.

The clothes on the body were a little scuffed, but overall in good condition.  That was odd considering that the man was dead.  It looked as if he almost gave in to his fate.  Anyone else would have fought and it would have shown.  It was all really odd to Greg.  Another thought came into his head, look for a wallet or something.  But the total absurdity of the situation made him shale it off.

Finally, he pushed his cart past the second body and out onto the road.  He made his was to the pay phone and lifted up the receiver.  He hesitated for a long while.  He just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something going on that was out of the ordinary.  In fact, he knew it.  But somewhere deep inside of his mind a little voice told him not to get involved.  Just to call and report it and then to move on.

His fingers made their way to the three digits.  “This is 9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

Greg paused when the voice on the other side finished.

“Hello?  Is anyone there?  Is there an emergency?”

“Not so much an emergency,” Greg started, “But I would like to report a crime.”

“What crime sir?”

“There are two dead bodies in the alley next to the Shiny Badge bar.”

“Are you sure they are dead?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Are you the one that did it?”

Greg was taken aback at the question, “No, I just found them and am calling in to report it.”

“Can I get your name sir?”

“No, I’m just calling it in.”  With that he hung up the phone and started pushing his cart in the opposite direction of the alley.  There was a soup kitchen nearby and they would be serving breakfast soon.  The line would be forming about now.

His plan was to get to the line and blend in.  The cops would get to the scene rather fast, but it would be a while before they started looking around for people.  They had to secure the scene and make sure there was nothing else going on.  That would be their focus and that was the window Greg had to disappear.  It was just too weird, and he wanted nothing to do with it.

Within five minutes after he hung up, he could hear the sirens.  A few more and the ambulances were in the area.  He was in line for a meal by the time they stopped.  He knew they were cordoning off the area.  He felt sorry for his old friend.  His business might be affected by this, at least for a few days.  That meant no cans in the alley for him either until the next week, if he was lucky.

As Greg made it through the line and got a plate of eggs and ham, he decided that he wouldn’t say a word to anyone.  The community liked to talk about what was going on in the area, but this was one of those rare cases where keeping his mouth shut might be better for him in the long run.  He had gotten by for quite a few years by playing it smart, this was just another one of those decisions that was smart in his opinion.

Greg found an empty table, sat down, and ate his breakfast in silence.

Took another break, so sue me.

Yeah I have taken a couple of weeks off, sorry about that.  Life does that to me sometimes.  But I swear it was kind of for a good reason.

I just spent the last few days transcribing a book with the 195 stages of the Hero’s journey into spread sheet form so that I can use it as a checklist to aid with some stories I am working on, or more truthfully novels.  I get to that dreaded middle part and just get stuck.

I know where I want to end, and starting them out is easy enough, but the middle is always where it seems to get bogged down.  My hope is to use this new aid to help me get through that part.  It can be a pain in the ass.

The dog thing is being a pain as well.  he had some eye thing, so had to medicate him 2x a day for 10 days.  Needless to say, he was not a fan of it.  Fighting a 50 pound dog multiple times in a day is not the easiest thing to do.

Back to the writing though.  The vampire thing is moving along, just hit 40,000 words, so at least that has been getting some progress.  My other two are languishing in limbo though.  Which is sad because one of them is book two in a trilogy.  I know where the third book is going to end, but the only thing worse than the middle of a book, is the middle of the middle book.  It’s like I had the huge idea and knew that 2 wouldn’t fit it all, and there was material there for a third book, but the ideas were not as fleshed out as the first and the third.

So I know what I want to do in the book, but it has been hard trying to organize it, let alone write it.  I am stuck at 90 pages and the group has only been running around attacking bandits and increasing the party size.  It that a thing?  I guess it’s how it’s written.  I see it as a good place to world build, but finding a way to do it that is entertaining, yet not taking away from the overall story and trilogy, is not as easy as one might think.

Of course I have no idea how others think about this kind of thing.  I really need to do a better job of plotting.  To date I outline the first half of a book at most, then I kind of wing it.  But that needs to change.

In other news, I think I might have found a home for some of my other trash writing.  But that is still being worked out.  Stay tuned for that.

I promise I’ll toss up another chapter of the vampire book for Monday.  I am also thinking of moving to a Tue/thurs posting schedule.  Less content to write and less chance of me forgetting, as I usually do.