Chasing Bedlam is available right now.

Return to the Shattered States
for a tale of love between a woman & her jeep!

Cover Art by Jon Hunsinger

Lloyd and Cassidy’s last adventure was to honor a life. This time they are out to end one.

It was a normal, violent mission to Texas that should have had nothing more than beer-induced hiccups. That is until an old enemy makes off with Cassidy’s jeep and most of their gear. Needless to say, she’s pissed off and challenging Lloyd for the psychopath of the month award. With the mouthy serial killer by her side, she is going on the warpath from Dallas to Miami even if it means declaring war on the drug cartels.

So strap in for another wild ride through the Shattered States and learn why you never mess with Cassidy’s jeep.

Available on Amazon for 99 cents!

Want a taste?

“So your boss thought she could send assassins to kill the Riflemen,” the black-haired leader says, earning a cheer from his men. A firm smack to the prisoner’s head silences her gurgling attempt to deny the charge. “Nothing you say can prevent the inevitable. Don’t go thinking that pet serial killer will save you either. The idiot brought a paintball gun to Texas and thought he’d win a gunfight? I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. All we need to do is find the body and we can collect the bounty on him too. Guess you’re lucky that he’s wanted dead and you’re wanted alive by that warden up north.”

“I’d be careful, boss,” a sword-wielding gang member warns. She leans away from the angry glare, but rolls up her sleeve to reveal a sloppily stitched wound. “While this one isn’t as tough as her reputation says, she can still hit hard. Lost two men before we restrained her and three more are nursing broken balls. Maybe we should use some of our tranquilizer stash and keep her sedated.”

“No reason for th-” Top Hog begins as he runs his hand across the prisoner’s forehead. He rubs his fingers at the sensation of something sticky between his fingers and looks closer to figure out what he has touched. “This scar is fake. Made from glue or something. Are you sure this is Cassidy?”

“She was with Lloyd Tenay at the bar,” a one-eyed man replies in a shaky voice. He shifts from one foot to the other when everyone else takes a step away from him. “You told us to look for him and a blonde woman. She had the denim jacket, the forehead scar, cursed a lot, carried two pistols, and even has the correct tramp stamp. Everyone was calling her Cassidy after she drove up in the blue jeep too. We made sure that everything checked out, boss. Even bribed the bartender and two waitresses.”

Sweat beading on his face, Top Hog draws his large gun and presses it to the prisoner’s temple. He leans around her, his eyes repeatedly darting toward her hands to make sure they are still bound. Lifting her white shirt, he sees the unique tattoo that the widespread stories mention Cassidy getting a little less than a year ago. The design is two pistols back to back with vines of bone curling around and binding them together. A strange discoloration catches the gang leader’s attention and he rubs his thumb along the woman’s side, pushing his weapon harder against her head to prevent wiggling. He swears that he feels a seam, so he gets a dirty fingernail beneath what turns out to be a flesh-colored sticker. Top Hog yanks it off and shows it to his men, the prisoner biting her lower lip to avoid screaming. He can already see that the tattoo is smeared from where he has touched it with his meaty fingers.

Enraged and embarrassed, the gang leader is about to kill the fake Cassidy when he hears distant rock music. Within seconds, he realizes that the source is getting closer and is soon joined by maniacal laughter coming over a crackling megaphone. With a snap of his fingers, Top Hog orders one of his men to take the prisoner to his office while the others run for the exit. Nobody gets very far before a blue jeep, which has been outfitted with a wide battering ram, smashes through the front of the warehouse. The vehicle leaves a gaping hole in the wall, which is made worse by hooked chains on the rear bumper that catch and tear more of the obstacle down. The jeep continues at full speed through crates, shelving units, and the slower gang members whose deaths are celebrated by honks of the horn. Tires screech as the driver hits the brakes and gets the car to spin, the move appearing to have no purpose beyond making those inside dizzy. With an embarrassing thud, the vehicle hits the back wall and hisses to a stop.

The gang have already drawn their weapons and are cautiously approaching the jeep when the sunroof opens. Bullets fly at the blonde figure that leaps out, the projectiles creating so many holes that the top half of their target falls off. The legs of the cardboard cutout are casually tossed to the floor before the shriek of a megaphone makes everyone cringe and cover their ears. With the tattered remains laying face up, the frustrated criminals realize that they have destroyed another Cassidy decoy. They are about to inch closer when the jeep briefly roars to life and a man inside begins making engine noises. The sounds change to the exaggerated screams and detailed begging of those whose parts are still stuck to the scuffed battering ram.

“So that was your plan, Cassidy?” Top Hog asks with a chuckle. He turns to see their prisoner is trying to roll away and fires his gun into the air to stop her. “Two decoys, so that you could get the drop on us. Guess you thought more of us would get run over. You still have thirteen of my crew standing and you’re cornered in that jeep. Now, the only question is if I send a piece of you back to the Duchess as a message that she should stay out of my business. Damn northerner needs to stay out of Texas’s business.”

“Actually, that young woman was the bait and I was the distraction,” Lloyd announces from inside. With a gleeful laugh, he opens one of the doors and yanks it back when the gang shoots at him. “Well shit. That was my favorite power window button. Anyway, people make that mistake all the time. You see, bait draws you in and, at least here, allows the real predators to follow you back to the previously hidden hideout. Not even a sign to help us out, which is very rude and unaccommodating. Now, the distraction’s job is to keep you looking in one direction while a mischievous maiden of mayhem prepares her new toy somewhere else. Don’t bother running, boys, because she’ll take that as an insult.”

Top Hog and his men turn toward the hole in the wall, which has exposed them to the large parking lot. The sun forces them to squint at the lone figure standing behind a loaded mini-gun, the weapon glinting in the midday light. Clouds move across the sky, which makes it easier for the gang to identify the denim jacket and blonde hair of their enemy. They take a few shots at the distant woman, but their bullets either miss completely or bounce off several riot shields that are strapped to the weapon. A slamming car door causes them to jump, but they turn in the wrong direction and are unable to stop Lloyd from racing toward the prisoner. Wearing orange pants from his time as a prisoner and a red shirt with a lightning bolt, the black-haired serial killer seems like an obvious target as he scoops up the young woman and dives behind a box of grenades. Suddenly afraid for their lives, Top Hog and his men attempt to scatter and hunt for cover.

“I hate moving targets,” Cassidy growls.

And don’t forget how it all started in
CROSSING BEDLAM!
Also on sale for 99 cents!

About the Author:

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Lloyd Tenay drops by Lisa Burton Radio

 

Welcome everyone, on this episode of Lisa Burton Radio we have a really unusual guest. I’m your host, Lisa Burton the robot girl.

Crossing Bedlam is the sponsor of today’s show, and I’ll load all the important links at the end of the show. Let’s all welcome Lloyd Tenay.

“Hello Lloyd, welcome to the show.”

“Great to boob here. Uh . . . eh, close enough.”

“You have an interesting background. Prior to the collapse, which produced the Shattered States, you were in prison. Can you tell us a little about that?”

“The simple story is that I was a totally misunderstood serial killer who got caught. In my defense, the zoo had a new baboon exhibit and those animals are a lot of fun to watch. Oh, I guess I kill people because I wasn’t raised right or have a couple screws loose. I don’t know. It was either serial killer or taxi driver and I hate getting stuck in traffic. Where was I?

“By the way, I think you dropped your pencil and should bend down to pick it up.

“So, I was locked up for a while. Mostly solitary confinement because I rarely played well with others. There really wasn’t much to do besides working out, dreaming up new ways to kill people, and occasionally being brought out to entertain guests. After the collapse, the warden got supplies in various ways, which included hosting a death match. Reigning champion over here. Though I wasn’t allowed to go ‘Predator’ and keep a trophy. Wow. Nice to be able to utter a reference instead of being vague.”

“Do you think all of that is a benefit in the Shattered States? I mean survival can be a brutal business.”

“Seems to be useful. I’m still the newborn babe in this world, but having the ability to end a life without remorse does have an advantage here. Well, maybe I have some remorse at times, but there are a lot of bad guys to take out now. I can be like the Punisher or Venom or that guy with the hit movie whose name escapes me. All I really know is that it’s become kill or be killed out there and I’m a master at the former. How would a master at being killed work anyway? It’s really a onetime trick.”

“Yeah Lloyd, I suppose I can see that in a kind of twisted way. Under these circumstances, there are likely people who need killing. I mean there are cannibals out there, for cripes sakes. Still, don’t you want some kind of normalcy? Maybe settle down with Cassidy and live happily ever after?”

“Those cannibals were really freaky, but my contract states I can’t say anything more than that. I mean, total nutcases that would make Charles Manson question their sanity. Not sure normalcy is a thing here any more and it wasn’t my cup of tea in the first place. At least until I find the right woman who can admire the raw, animal crazy that is me. I’d say magnetism, but I don’t want to scramble your circuits and kick off Skynet. Although, there’d probably be a lot less resistance if Terminators looked more like you than Captain Heavy Accent. So exactly how long are your legs and are you double-jointed?”

“I’m a concept robot, so my legs are adjustable. And just in case, I’m bullet resistant, and a whole lot stronger than you are.

“Moving on, let’s talk about Nebraska. What’s Cassidy so scared of in Nebraska?”

“The kid won’t tell me. I think she has an ex-boyfriend out there or a reputation as some badass stripper with a heart of gold. Maybe it’s all about her father and people will get a front row seat to some teary-eyed reunion. Although she’s really big on saving ammo for Nebraska, which makes me lean more toward family being involved.”

“Lloyd, Lloyd, <snap, snap> I hate to cut you off there, but you have a caller. Hi, you’re on the air with Lisa and Lloyd.”

“This is Cassidy… Where the fuck are you, Lloyd!?

<Beeep>

“You left me in the bar and took the trading bag with you! I had to fight my way out and now we can’t go back. Not to mention I had to beat a gangbanger into the ground to get his phone and call into the show.”

“Thank god you added ‘into the ground’ there. <snick> Ah, the sobering sound of a friend aiming a sniper rifle at my nether region. In my defense, the host is really hot. I mean, insanely hot. They don’t make them like her . . . Are you mass produced because I’d like to order one?”

“You see a pair of tits and leave me behind? What kind of bodyguard are you?”

“The one you broke out of prison and never signed up for the job. You know I’m only in this story to be the crazy, sexy killer and source of comedy. Helps that I have a beautiful smile that the author really should bring more attention to. To be fair, I’d have wandered off for a nice ass, killer legs, shiny knives, a sale on graphic t-shirts, baboons, free samples of those cocktail weenies, and out of boredom. Not to mention, we’re the main characters. I’m safe because the two fans we have love me and you’re safe because you’re more of the focal point when it comes to the plot. Either one of us bites it then the series ends. At least if there is a series. Please buy CROSSING BEDLAM, which is now in paperback as well as the original eBook format for Amazon! Order now for your Kindle and get the book delivered immediately, which is how the thing works in the first place.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd!” <Click>

<Beeeeep. Bu-Bu-Beeeeep>

“Sorry folks, trying to get the timing down on this censor button thingie. So wait a minute. You believe you’re a fictitious character in a book, rather than someone a book was written about? How is it that you’re here outside any book talking to Cassidy and I?”

“Well it makes complete sense. You have two strangers who get together in bizarre circumstances (jail break) and have a strange quest (toss Mama Cassidy’s ashes off the Golden Gate Bridge) and travel across a desolate landscape where they run into an array of odd characters (cannibals, rhino-loving snipers, wandering librarians, Eagles fans, etc.). We have to be main characters in a story with all of that going on. No other logical, totally sane explanation can be made.

“Now how did I get here specifically? Well, I told Cass that <Snick> Sorry, Cassidy that I was going to hit the bathroom, took the cellphone from a greasy guy out back who might have been the cook, and called in after seeing the number on a bathroom stall. So, I didn’t really know what I was calling into, but I gave all my info to this Craig guy. He seemed nice. Do you pay him well?

“Anyway, I tend to wander around when I’m on the phone and thought I was heading back to the Jeep. Um, I think I got lost. Cassidy, can you drive down the highway and look for a guy showing leg to get a lift? Probably won’t be me, but I want to see what post-apocalyptic hitchhikers are like.”

“Oooo Kaaay, I told everyone at the beginning that Lloyd was a bit different. He certainly proved that. Until next time for Lisa Burton Radio, this is Lisa Burton. Please check out the links on the website and consider adding Crossing Bedlam to your reading list.”

***

Crossing Bedlam- http://www.amazon.com/Crossing-Bedlam-Charles-E-Yallowitz-ebook/dp/B01BRE7UDC/

Amazon Author Page- http://www.amazon.com/Charles-E.-Yallowitz/e/B00AX1MSQA/

Blog- www.legendsofwindemere.com

Twitter- https://twitter.com/cyallowitz

 

Crossing Bedlam

I’ve already downloaded my copy, and can’t wait to read this one, Craig.

The Rated-R Post-Apocalyptic Action Comedy Adventure is finally here!

Cover Art by Jon Hunsinger

The United States of America has been crippled. Violently contained by a global military force and left without its leaders, the country has become shattered and chaotic. A decade has passed since the first strike and a new landscape has emerged where survival is more important than anything else. Who will uncover the truth behind the attack and revive this once great nation?

It certainly won’t be Cassidy and Lloyd since they couldn’t care less about that stuff. She is a young woman on a mission to honor her mother’s dying wish, which is to toss her ashes off the Golden Gate Bridge. He is an infamous serial killer she broke out of Rikers Island since hiring a bodyguard wasn’t working out. Not the perfect plan, but having an insane, oddly charming murder-junkie on your side is a plus in the Shattered States.

Bullets and swear words are going to fly as Cassidy and Lloyd travel coast to coast, facing one challenge after another . . . including Nebraska.

Curious about this broken world & these two ‘not even close to being heroes’?

Then grab a copy for $2.99 on Amazon
&
Mark it as ‘To Read’ on Goodreads

Excerpt: A Relaxing Drive on the Parkway (Foul Language Warning)

The jeep hurtles through a large hole in the parkway divider, the threat of incoming traffic nothing more than a faded memory. Only three of their pursuers manage to follow with a fourth smashing into the gap and blocking the path. Not wanting to be an easy target, Cassidy keeps their vehicle swerving from one lane to another. She can hear bullets pinging off the asphalt and the abandoned cars that have been moved to the side of the road. There is another hole in the divider right before an overpass, so she drives through at the last second. Sliding into the tunnel, Cassidy watches the other vehicles pass the gap before making a tire-screeching U-turn to go in the opposite direction. Five motorcycles are heading toward them, but the heavy jeep and its driver’s refusal to get out of the way makes them an easily scattered threat. One of the bikers is unable to swerve to the side and he crashes onto the hood while his ride is sent spinning into an abandoned van.

“Get off my car!” Cassidy shouts as she reaches out the window. Grabbing the man by the ankle, she yanks him off the hood and lets him tumble into the concrete divider. “This is really going to cost me. Do you know what the penalty for your idiocy is? They kill you unless you escape to the mainland. Then you’re exiled until you find something that the Trade Barons want more than revenge. I don’t have time to go on a treasure hunt. Would you take off those sunglasses and stop humming car chase music?”

“I was only trying to complete the scene,” Lloyd argues as he calmly fires a pellet at a sedan driver. Having mixed the three types of ammo, he is happy to see a yellow orb burst on the woman’s mouth. “There’s the scratching. Now the nausea. We have a spinning and flipping car, folks. Oh, and there goes either the guy in the passenger seat or a really big ragdoll. You know, I’m starting to like what all of you have done with the place.”

“Stop killing people!” the blonde shouts, veering away from a large truck. She narrowly avoids slamming into a small car, the jeep moving off the road to complete the turn. “The more bodies we leave, the harder it will be to regain the Trade Barons’ favor. At least Neddy will send us what we need and . . . this is not the fucking time to change clothes!”

Lloyd stops with his head peeking out of his blood-covered shirt, which is high enough to reveal his scarred stomach. Figuring that he has come too far to stop, he yanks off the garment and hurls it out the window. He pouts when it flies over a car instead of covering the driver’s side of the windshield and causing a crash. Blindly reaching back, he takes a random shirt out of his bags and examines the black top in the side view mirror. The red and black mask of an old comic book character stares back at him, the face giving the illusion of grinning beneath the fabric.

“I remember reading this guy’s series before the Internet made him so popular and he turned up everywhere. Ugh, that sounded so pretentious that I’m tempted to stab myself. Hey, can we still see movies because I want to see his?” Lloyd asks while tying the laces of the black sneakers he hastily put on before making a mess at the Coliseum. “I really like t-shirts with pictures on them. They bring attention to what I’m wearing instead of my face. You can start a conversation about them too. Nice way to meet people and find out if they’re worth leaving alive or not. For example, I have a shirt with another hero and if somebody tells me that the bastard can defeat every other character then I know they have to die. I mean, he’s nothing more than a child-endangering bill-”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd!”

“Don’t be angry, kid. You’re doing great.”

“I can’t even figure out if we’re going in the right direction.”

“Turn around and start shooting at their tires.”

“I can’t because I need to save bullets.”

“For what?”

“Nebraska!”

About the Author:

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Want the same level of action with a lot of magic & no cursing?

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics

Click here for the $4.99 Bundle to start your journey into Windemere!