The Idea Mill #36

It’s been about six months since we visited the old Idea Mill. I’ve save a few articles over that time, but they don’t seem to be showing up as fast as they used to. Then there’s the other fact: I’ve been busy. It’s time to put some of the fun things back into this blog, so we’re returning to the Idea Mill today.

My basis for posting these is that I write speculative fiction. I know many of you do too. This kind of fiction always requires a leap of faith. Because of that, it’s important to base much of what we do on fact. It makes that leap easier to make for our readers. These articles are to kick your Muse, but also ground your story elements in a bit of reality.

Our first one involves how muggles used to protect themselves from witches. They looked upon their homes as defensible spaces. I guess if you were out shopping you were on your own. They did this by building various items into their homes, behind walls, under the threshold, that kind of thing. They hid worn out shoes, which includes an interesting theory about the devil. Desiccated animals were popular, cats being a major target. There is even a tutorial about making your own witch bottle. Hint: Drink a lot of coffee before you start. Read the article here.

You could make a neat character who is kind of an anti-witch. He or she makes things to protect against witchcraft. Of course, eventually, someone figures out this is also witchcraft and turns people against your heroine. I still have those con artists who sell curses and counter curses on the back burner somewhere. They are actually a married couple and work to get people spending with them. They might fit into a future volume of Lanternfish now that I think about it.

Our next article is about an archeological site that is a graveyard of sorts. There are a couple of intriguing graves, including one that appears to have been buried with live horses still harnessed to a chariot. The most interesting one is a young warrior who appears to have died of natural causes. However, he was “killed” again before burial by stabbing him repeatedly and bashing his head in. Here is the link.

I’m sure we can come up with all kinds of undead stories for the young warrior. Maybe he did pass from natural causes, but rose from his grave as something else requiring the re-killing.

The charioteer is just as interesting. What if he volunteered to go to the other side and wage war against the zombie hoard, or vampire uprising?

Obviously, these monster tales take a leap of faith, but it’s cool knowing about the real burial practices that could fit into your story.

Finally, we have the world’s first 3-D printed human heart from the donor’s own genetic material. We’ve known this was coming for a long time. It seem to me I posted once before about this, and it was based upon growing the heart muscle on a framework of spider silk. This one is tiny, but it proves a lot of the science to make it a real thing. Read the article here.

This one screams science fiction, particularly that ten-minutes-into-the-future kind I love. It makes some neat scenery for your Dr. McCoy kind of characters.

I like the idea of people being people, and may be able to work with this to a degree myself. We stop taking care of ourselves, because insurance allows us to grow our own spare parts and store them at the hospital. Go ahead and destroy your liver, there’s a brand new one when you need it. Lung cancer, Ha! I already have the cure in the freezer. Maybe every teenage sports star has a jar of replacement ulnar collateral ligaments in dad’s freezer.

I like to make up my own corny outline for these posts, so here goes nothing:

A young soldier returns from Afghanistan, but dies suddenly of natural causes. He rises from the grave as a vampire and starts giving all the local girls hickeys.

Terrified townies start dehydrating their cats and making witch bottles from a YouTube tutorial to keep him out of their homes. They’re safe, but don’t dare go outside. Resources are running out.

A hero arises, and volunteers to fight the vampire in the netherworld. To do this, he has to die and be buried with the weapons he needs on the other side. The only way to bring him back after the battle is by placing a fresh beating heart in his chest. Fortunately, he has good insurance and one is waiting for him at the hospital.

They bury him alive, but instead of a living horse, he gets a Humvee with the motor running, and a .50 caliber machine-gun.

The only way the locals can tell if the job is finished is to watch the vampire’s body for signs of damage. Once he’s thoroughly mangled in the afterlife, they plant him, dig up the hero and stitch in his brand new heart. Happy ever after with some kind of diatribe about how growing the heart was covered, replacing it wasn’t covered, medical bankruptcy etc.

***

I hope something here inspired you with a new story idea, some kind of setting, or scenery you can make use of.

I gave the Idea Mill posts their own category to make for simple surfing. Lookit, right over there in the sidebar.

All you have to do is click the Idea Mill category and the posts will filter down to more of these.

I’d love to hear from you guys. What would you do with one (or more) of these? Have I given you any ideas for your stories. Maybe a line for your notebooks somewhere for future use? Talk to me.

Quest of the Broken Hearted, 99¢ all month long

Charles Yallowitz has released his follow up story to the Legends of Windemere series. Good news for us is the introductory price. I’ll let Charles tell you all about it.

A battered soul faces a city of monsters in
Quest of the Brokenhearted!

Cover Art by Sean Harrington

As Windemere moves forward, a broken spirit falls into the shadows.

Two years have passed since Luke Callindor was lost during the champions’ battle against Baron Kernaghan. Many mourn the loss, but none have been hurt more than the fiancée he left behind, Kira Grasdon. Plagued by grief and determined to prove he is alive, she has sacrificed her business, her reputation, and her hope. Surviving on the streets of Gaia, she has become an emotional husk of her former self. It is only by chance that Kira crosses paths with an old friend and learns of a path, which will either end her suffering or revive her shattered soul. As the rumors state, hundreds of adventurers have flocked to Lacarsis and none have returned.

Will Kira meet her death in the City of Evil or will she thrive among the monsters?

*****

Book Excerpt: The Farm

The blast of warm air hits and swirls around the area to make all those in metal armor feel like they are about to faint. As the wind billows out, it carries the fog away to reveal broken fences and an abandoned farmhouse. The porch is partially collapsed with a swing sitting in the mud, its chains still connected to the fallen roof. The front door is closed, but a large hole is in the middle as if something tried to punch its way inside. Rusty pots and tools are scattered about the ground, some of them having been plunged into the ground. Not far away is a large barn, which shows no sign of damage beyond peeling paint and cobwebs dangling from the eaves. A crooked weathervane sits above the hay loft, the bat-shaped object spinning wildly even though the wind has died. Wilted crops stand in the fields among those that have already rotted into mush. Piles of hay dot the landscape, each one having turned black and become surrounded by swarms of thumb-sized flies. When the last of the fog clears, the entire area is bathed in a sickly orange light that causes the adventurers’ skin to crawl.

An animal call erupts from a nearby pasture, the grass a light brown and showing signs of being repeatedly trampled. In response, the sounds of chickens drift from the farmhouse and they are soon joined by other familiar noises. The ear-wrenching symphony continues to grow as the adventurers spread out across the road and into the fields. Most are focused on the farmhouse door, so they are caught off-guard when the attack begins. Zombified pigs, horses, goats, and sheep burst out of the barn to charge the nearest warriors. With acidic foam flying from their mouths, the undead livestock crash into the armored figures and rip into whatever flesh they can reach. The goats and pigs cause the most damage, their teeth breaking through metal and bone while the horses do more harm with their hooves. Flapping wings from the farmhouse are a slight warning before a flock of chickens and ducks explode from the windows. Lacking teeth, they have a harder time killing their prey, who swing wildly and blindly cast spells that miss half of the time. Chaos is consuming the crowd when the first animal call erupts from the right and four knights are sent hurtling through the air. Flesh dangling from its horns and blood splattered across its rotting face, the zombified bull barrels into the adventurers. The grunting beast tramples everything in its path as it crashes into one of the fields and sends a broken cart rolling away. Turning around, the animal ignores the arrows that stick into its hindquarters and charges back into the crowd.

While the others try to retreat, Kira swings her sickle at the bull’s side and gets the weapon stuck between the exposed ribs. She holds on while she is dragged and uses the blunt end to swat chickens out of the air. As she passes a stallion, she swings her kusari-gama to get the chain wrapped around its hind legs. With the horse galloping away from the bull, Kira plants her feet and pulls hard on her weapon. Her strength combined with that of the zombified steed allows her to shatter the larger animal’s ribs. Spinning around, she whips the sickle into the side of the stallion’s head and uncoils the chain as it crashes to the ground. Without turning back, the adventurer dives to the side and narrowly avoids getting gored by the bull. The moment she hits the ground, she pounces to grab the jagged hole in its body and pulls herself close enough to punch inside with the blunt end of her weapon. Kira continues striking the rotting heart until the confused animal rears back and exposes its stomach for a pair of spearmen to impale it. They are unable to support its weight and are promptly crushed while the young woman flips up to slam her sickle into the base of its skull. Hanging onto the bucking bull, she violently twists the blade until the zombie finally falls over and rapid decays. The others are about to cheer when the call of another bull bursts from the pasture.

“They just keep coming,” Kira mutters as she watches more animals pour out of the buildings.

Grab your copy on Amazon for 99 cents throughout the month of July!

*****

Interested in more Windemere? Then don’t forget to check out Charles E. Yallowitz’s first series: Legends of Windemere

All Cover Art by Jason Pedersen

Or more interested vampires? Then check out War of Nytefall: Loyalty:

Cover Art by Alison Hunt

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

LET THE TOURNAMENT OF LACARSIS BEGIN!

The Fireborn, on #LisaBurtonRadio

Don’t touch that dial. You’ve landed on Lisa Burton Radio, the only show that brings you the characters from the books you love. I’m your host, Lisa the robot girl.

My special guest today is here seeking our help. It’s like an APB for civilians. “Welcome to the show, Dr. Elliot Everett-Jones.”

“Thanks for having me on, Lisa. And please, you don’t have to spit out the alphabet when you talk to me, I am just plain “Elliot”.”

“Elliot it is then. Before we make that plea to our listeners, let’s get into you a bit. You recently went through a bad divorce, and fled London for New York City. Was it really all that bad?”

“It does seem like yesterday, but I wouldn’t call ten years recent. Eleanor is beautiful and devastatingly intelligent. She’s the woman of dreams. She’s… Damn it, I didn’t mean any of that. Actually, I hate her. She left me for my best friend, Mark. Ex-best friend I should say, and, I guess now ex-anything since he recently passed away. With Mark safely in the great beyond, I could return to London without fear of perhaps bumping into him at an awkward moment. An awkward moment would be any time either of us were breathing.

“I haven’t been back long, but I’ve been enjoying every minute. I did love New York. There is a treasure trove of old books the Yanks stole, I mean brought over there, allowing me to do some research as I taught at CUNY. But I do love exploring old estates, trying to be the first to lay eyes on a manuscript lost for hundreds of years, stuffed away in a great library, gathering mold. All of my best ideas have come from those dusty old forgotten books. That is what I do, read books and interpret them. A lot of people say I misinterpret them, but what do they know? In case you are wondering, I’m not a librarian or bibliophile, I’m a historian.”

“What era do you focus on in your work?”

“I like those fuzzy areas just at the verge of history, but if I had to pick one era that I specialize in, that would be British history from the time the Romans left until the Saxons were well settled and had the island carved up. It was an exciting period, full of change. And there are so many blank holes in the record of that era, which fascinates me. Imagine, some of those holes are perhaps big enough to hide a king, though I think he was more of a war lord or general, not a king at all. That’s Arthur, if you didn’t catch on. Uhm, King Arthur if you insist. Of course, my brother laughs at it all. He thinks I’m a bit daft and teases me about this little obsession with Arthur and some of my other fringes of history passions, which he thinks is a bit extreme.”

“In what way?”

“Hmmm. You’ve heard of Dr. William Everett-Jones, the distinguish archeologist, haven’t you? Half of the time I call someone they think I’m him and sound disappointed when I tell them that, no, I’m the less than distinguished Dr. Elliot, the historian. William has taken on the family profession and is as straight-laced as they come. All of the facts must be in a row, thank you very much. No room for creativity. Creativity. Right. He thinks that I am a bit too creative. Sure, some of my sources are little known romantic era authors who quote obscure 15th century poets who quote long lost 9th century manuscripts that have quotes form even longer lost 6th century letters, but I do pull some amazing facts form these madmen and absinth addicts! William just doesn’t understand. He is always so cold, so reserved. Except, except… Well, the other day, when he showed me the uhm.. well, his latest find. Hmmm. It was, how can I put it? Excuse me, it has that effect on people. Even William was at a loss for words. He felt it’s power. Yet he didn’t believe me when I told him that the giant pot he had discovered was the mythical Cauldron of Resurrection.”

“You’re going to have to flesh that out for me.”

“Oh come on, you know, don’t you? It is in just about every Celtic myth and legend written. The Welsh went wild over it. Some called it Pair Dadeni, the Cauldron of Rebirth. And there are references even in artifacts, like the famous Gundestrup Cauldron, with its depiction of an altered king creating an army of the undead. No? I mean, it is all over The Mabinogion. You know the parts about taking dead bodies and making fighting men? I’m sure you know the story Branwen the daughter of Llyr. And that’s just the beginning. There are stories of an ancient king, the Cauldron King, who used the undead, the Fireborn, to conquer large sections of Europe, pushing Celtic culture all over the continent. No?”

“Um, yeah, my history research is kind of lacking in that area.”

“You’ve have heard of Caesar, haven’t you? Julius Caesar? Name ring any bells? Right. Caesar described meeting naked Celtic soldiers painted blue when he tried to invade Britain. I’m not saying Caesar saw any fireborn, but these Celts were in costume of the scariest thing they could imagine. You see, when the Cauldron King placed a dead body in the Cauldron of Resurrection, given that it is properly heated, a fireborn will come out. This is an undead soldier. It is animated by the fire. The body is blue, like the heart of the flame while the hair sticks up like a punk rocker, but bright red, like tongues of flame. They are hot, so fight in the nude. The fireborn are dead and so can’t be killed.”

“Zombies, or super-zombies?”

“If you must call them that, yes. Actually, I think sword wielding naked blue zombies does have a certain ring to it, don’t you?”

“And what makes you think this is all real?”

“William dug up the cauldron. One-hundred-percent-fact-based William. It’s real. I touched it. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve seen it. There is nothing in the universe that has so affected my mind, not even Eleanor. It sucks the energy out of the room like a black hole yet spits out a dark energy. I’ve had dreams about it. I’ve seen them. The fireborn and more. My dreams match my research, obscure sources be damned. And it’s not just me. Everyone who has come into contact with it has had the dreams, even needs-ten-references-to-take-it-seriously William. The dark lord, the Cauldron King, would speak to him in his dreams every night. William told me this.”

“Maybe they used the cauldron to brew some kind of super hooch and it’s still potent enough to give you guys hallucinations.”

“No, no, no. Well, OK, there was a mythical cauldron like that, but this isn’t it. William’s kettle was guarded by bodies that still looked alive, including one I suspect was the Cauldron King himself. It all fits. It all is exactly as my research says it must be. Not that I’d mind finding the never-empty super-brew cauldron. In fact, I used to enjoy a pint at a pub known for its bottomless glasses and topless… oh, never mind. What’s important here is that the cauldron vanished into thin air. It weighed over a ton, the car park was muddy as all hell, and someone took it without a trace. No helicopter was involved. It’s just gone. That would only happen if it were, you know, the Cauldron of Resurrection. Damn. We need to find Caledfwlch right away. Uhm. You know, Caliburnus? Ah, yes, I’m sure you call it Excalibur. We need the Sword!”

“Excalibur. Seriously?”

“Yes. Excalibur. It was created to kill the fireborn. Didn’t you ever wonder where it came from? I’m still researching the Lady of the Lake, but I do know that she is the keeper of the sword. She rose form the depths to give Arthur the sword in Britain’s time of need and his men tossed it back to her when he rid the land of evil and died. We need her to rise from the depths again and give us the sword now that we are in our own time of need.”

“Strange women, lying in ponds, distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.”

“Ha ha, I say ni to that. Or perhaps no as I don’t want to be king. And if you were listening, Arthur wasn’t a king either, just a warlord that became famous because he rid Britain of the fireborn. Which he did because he had the Sword. It all comes down to that blasted sword. We need our fiery sword to stop the fiery undead, to stop the… Well in your terms, the zombie apocalypse. It is coming. Bullets can’t stop them. Arrows can’t stop them. Locomotives can’t, uhm, well, clichés can’t stop them. The sword can stop them. It is the only thing in the world that can kill the undead. Please, if there is anyone out there that is listening, if you have seen a forever young lady handing out magic swords, please call into this program. She’ll most likely be around a body of water, but if she is standing in a pond, puddle or on Lake Street… well, just call, OK? Do I sound a little desperate? I hope so. We need the Sword.”

“To tell you the truth, I hope you find Excalibur. I’d like to see it in a museum somewhere. On the off chance the Fireborn are coming, I’d also like you to find it. Any last thoughts for our listeners today?”

“Thanks Lisa, I think you are the first one who has taken any of this even half serious, or perhaps it’s a quarter serious. I’m known as an eccentric and I’ve screamed about this so much people are beginning to think I’m a lunatic. Those who don’t assume I’m just doing promotion for another one of my books. I’m not! It’s been several weeks since the cauldron vanished. The police are clueless and aren’t listening. I’m sure that sooner or later it will be all over the news. All of you out there, please be careful and keep your eyes open. If there is even a hint of sword yielding naked blue zombies, uhm, damn, I love saying that… as I was saying, if you hear a hint of the fireborn, stay away! They can’t be killed. Well, without the Sword. You’ll keep your eyes open for that too, won’t you? Let me know if, well, you know. Hmm, it does sound silly when I saw it out loud, doesn’t it? But, damn it, we need to be ready for them. They’re coming!”

“Elliot, I wish you luck in your… might as well call it a quest at this point. Listeners can learn all about Elliot, the cauldron, and the Fireborn in the book The Fireborn, by Trent McDonald. I’ll post all the deets on the website after I go off the air.

“Don’t forget to use those sharing buttons today. I’m sure Trent and Elliot would do it for you, when your character appears on the next Lisa Burton Radio.”

***

In the shadowy area where myth and history collide, an unlikely hero is forced to save the world from an ancient Celtic curse. Dr. Elliot Everett-Jones knows that shadowy area well, having spent most of his life exploring its dimensions as given by a host of unreliable sources and imaginative speculation. Some would say he daydreams over the improbable plots of second-rate Romantic era authors. These fantasies, however, come to life after the discovery of the Cauldron of the Dead.

When the Cauldron produces the evil fireborn, Elliot is forced to confront an army of these mythic undead with nothing but his obscure knowledge and the hope of finding the legendary Lady of the Lake to give him Arthur’s sword. Even more frightening is the idea that he might have to confront his ex-wife, Eleanor.

The Fireborn is part joyful romp through history, myth and legend, and part fast paced adventure set in modern England and New York. The entire book, though, revolves around Elliot’s relationships with a large variety of characters. These relationships form the key that may unlock the mystery or lead to utter defeat.

US Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1522046488

US Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074MMH537

UK Paperback: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1522046488

UK Kindle: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B074MMH537

 

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I never decided what I wanted to do when I grew up.  I compose and play music, draw and paint, take a lot of pictures, and yes, I write.  I’ve written a couple of books that are sitting on my shelf waiting to go out and I write a new short story almost every week, which I often post on my blog, trentsworldblog.wordpress.com.  I’ve collected some of the best short stories I’ve written and put them out as “Seasons of Imagination”.

I also like to eat, so I work as a computer nerd during the day while I figure out what it is I really want to do.

If you really need details, I was born and raised in Ohio by the shore of beautiful Lake Erie and now split my time between mountainous New Hampshire and the coast of Massachusetts, specifically, Cape Cod.

One thing to know about me is that I hate to write bio-blurbs in the third person.

War of Nytefall, on #LisaBurtonRadio

Welcome all you night stalkers and day walkers. You’ve landed on Lisa Burton Radio. The only show that brings you characters from the books you love. We’re in for a real treat today, because my guest is the harbinger of a new race. Okay, it’s a race of vampires, but still evolution at work and all that. “Let’s give a big welcome to Clyde.”

“Thanks for having me. Though, it’s kind of strange having people outside of my gang giving me a warm welcome. Vampires aren’t really loved and neither are thieves, so the combination doesn’t make me many friends.”

“Glad to have you on. My notes say that you were once a regular vampire, but something happened during the Great Cataclysm. What can you tell me about that?”

“First, I’m going to admit up front that it wasn’t my finest moment. I wanted to really mess with the Duragians who are followers of the Sun God. They love destroying vampires, we enjoy killing them, and the cycle goes on for eternity. I was already on their hit list for a few treasury robberies and pretending to be their god for about week, which you’d think would get me more hate than it did. Anyway, my plan was to steal their holiest of items called the Orb of Durag. No idea what it did and I really didn’t care. The point was to take it out of their central temple and gloat for a couple months before tossing the thing into a volcano or something. I steal more for the thrill than the money.

“In my defense, the plan was a good one. I got their attention with some evil deeds and let myself get arrested. That way I was already in the temple and didn’t have to fight through the city. Now, Duragians execute vampires using four priests that use powerful sun beams to slowly tear the prisoner apart. I was supposed to pull off the heist before it got that far, but things went a little awry. Okay, I actually did start getting torn apart and then the Great Cataclysm hit. I was in too much agony to see what was going on, but I heard screaming and the ground shook. Next thing I know, the entire temple and city are sucked into the earth. I was trapped down there for fifty years, which felt like a lot more.”

“That’s terrible. Were you awake the whole time, conscious, whatever?”

“The thing is that the city and temple were intact, so everyone who survived the initial disaster were alive down there. I had about two hundred mortals to feed off of, which ran out pretty quickly. You don’t really imagine that you’ll be stuck in such a situation for very long, especially when you have friends up above. I had no idea the Duragians and hunters declared war on the vampires, so my gang was busy. There was digging the first year, but that stopped for some reason. I played around with my illusions and wandered around the ruins to avoid going insane from solitude. Not much one can say about being trapped down there with only your subconscious to talk to.

“It did have a happy ending, which turned out to be a chaotic beginning. The Duragians began digging again, but they only made the first hole bigger. I didn’t want to go charging out into another execution, so I stayed below. That’s when my old partner Mab finally arrived to check on me. I don’t know what she was planning as a rescue mission, but it failed nearly as badly as my Orb of Durag heist. Crazy woman is lucky she wasn’t killed and I got out to slaughter all those mortals. Probably would have jumped in earlier if I’d known I wasn’t the same vampire I was before.”

“Not the same, how exactly?”

“A little background info for the delicious folks at home. In Windemere, vampires can use magic and are physically superior to mortals. That’s as long as they stay out of the sunlight or wear a night cloak. Once you’re in the sun, you’re weakened and easy pickings for anyone that wants to kill you. I no longer have that problem, which is why I’m called a Dawn Fang. Knock me into the light and the worst that will happen is a sunburn, which is something I really thought was a thing of the past.

“That’s the thing that gets the most amount of attention though. Mortals would be terrified of a vampire that stays strong in the sunlight and Old World vampires use that as the main reason we’re abominations. Can’t say I disagree, but I’d say having a pulse and being able to eat real food are freakier. I mean, I get nourishment from blood, but I can also pack away an entire wedding cake for energy. Gregorio, my original maker, thinks it helps us maintain our monstrous physical abilities and special powers. Unlike Old Worlds, Dawn Fangs can’t use magic, but we each have three unique abilities that we can use. So, you never know what you’ll get with one of my kind.”

“That’s kind of cool, and scary at the same time. One person does not make a new race. How did the Dawn Fangs come to be?”

“To be fair, I never wanted to become a new race and was hoping I’d be the only one. It didn’t work out that way because of an accident. Somebody inadvertently . . . Okay, I’ll stop being nice about this. A situation arose where a friend was going wild and decided to take a bite out of me like I was the chef’s special. We learned that my blood can transform Old World vampires into Dawn Fangs. Not a good thing since I wanted to keep this whole mess a secret. While I haven’t tested it, we’re pretty sure a mortal can be changed through a special bite in order to be turned. I haven’t decided on if I want to do that though.”

“That’s a tiny bit gross. So what about children? Can you produce children who are Dawn Fangs? To me that makes a race.”

“I seriously doubt that since we’re still kind of undead. Even if the males got their parts to work, I don’t think the females would have any eggs after being corpses for a couple hundred years. Then again, it really depends on what you consider producing children. The mortal method might be beyond us, but changing someone by blood or fang is how all vampire species procreate. A fresh turn might have the body of an adult, but they’re technically a child in the eyes of our society. They need to be nurtured and taught like anybody else.”

“Earlier, you said Mab rescued you. That’s a pretty telling commitment. What’s the deal between you and her?”

“Well, I want to politely point out that she tried. If I can’t live my blunders down then she can’t either. That being said, Mab and I were partners before I ever made the gang. Has to be going on about five hundred years now that we’ve been doing heists as a duet. I wish I had more to say about our first encounter, but it wasn’t anything special. We were both vampiric thieves working the same territory and eventually bumped into each other. So, it started as a rivalry, which was made worse by her being in a guild while I was an independent. I suggested we go off on our own, which led to her demanding that I prove myself. That’s where this little golden necklace comes into play–”

“For our listeners, it looks like a little gold ear of corn. Go on.”

“This thing is actually worthless, but the guild master had given it to his wife or sister or some woman he lived with. I didn’t bother asking for a family tree when I took the thing from her in the middle of a busy marketplace. Not busy enough to hide in a crowd, so it was basically me pulling a lift in broad daylight with guards and merchants staring in my direction. Didn’t attract any attention either. Thinking back, that was probably the first heist I did for a thrill instead of the money. Well, a thrill and Mab.

“Our partnership did turn more romantic around the time our gang began getting more of a reputation. Guess we started to feel like mother and father to all the others, but we had a falling out of sorts. Nothing that ended the partnership, which is obvious since she was the only one who believed I was still alive in the ground. We had an anniversary coming up and Mab asked a friend who tends to remain nameless for seduction tips. The conversation got weird, the friend thought she was being asked to take Mab’s form to pull a seduce and switch, and the real one walked in at the worst time. Yeah, I’ll admit that as a master illusionist, I really should have seen through the disguise or at least noticed something was wrong. Took me about a month to grow all my organs back and the friend required two because she didn’t get out of there with her skin. I mean, Mab got so pissed off that she flayed the other woman and that led to bones get broken . . . Let’s just say vampires don’t hold back in these situations since we can survive a lot of physical trauma. We’ve even been known to snap the spine of a friend to stop them from rushing into a bad situation.”

“So what was the first thing you did when you re-emerged? Some people might go for a pizza.”

“The first thing I did when I got back to the surface was cut off my hair because it was down to my ankles. Needed clothes too and then there was figuring out why Mab took so long getting to me. After that, I had to visit an old friend in the city of Nyte for some business and to let everyone know I wasn’t dead. Once Mab and I realized I wasn’t a normal vampire, we went to where I should have gone in the first place. That would be to Gregorio Roman, who is at least two thousand years old and the vampire that turned me. The Old Fang is like a father to me and he’s easily the smartest person I know. If anyone could figure out what was going on with me, it would be that half-blind gnome. Good thing I brought Mab with me because he has this thing about hugs. He just loves them, but prefers it to be from women, which is why I take her along so often. Oh, she might be listening to this. Eh, I’ve gotten in trouble for a lot worse than that.”

“And now you’re trying to get the band back together. Tell us about that.”

“I don’t really understand Windemere any more, so I feel rather lost. Not a good thing for a guy who can punt an armored ogre over an entire castle. I figure getting my old gang back together is a way to create a sense of comfort and normalcy. Many of them are dead, but Mab, the Vengeance Hounds, and Decker are still alive. That third one isn’t a full member, but I trust the good General with my life. These people understand me and, at least if they learn my secret, I know they’ll help me instead of treat me like an abomination. If I can get in close with Xavier Tempest of Nyte too then it’s even less of a risk.

“The only problem here is that we have this messy war, so the gang won’t be able to do heists like the old days. We have to act as a special squad for Nyte, which means we’re more soldier and mercenary than thief. Still, I think we’ll get back to basics one day. For now, I’m happy to be back among friends who can prevent me from going full monster.”

“Full monster?”

“I’m not really sure how to explain this because it’s more a feeling than a concrete idea. That and it makes me come off a little weak and unstable. Even compared to the other Dawn Fangs, I’m insanely powerful because of what the Great Cataclysm did to me. The tradeoff for this seems to be that I’m always a few steps away from losing control and making ground chuck out of everything in sight. I mean, I just have this sensation in the back of my head that there’s a primal savagery aching to be unleashed. Part of me is tempted to let it out and see what happens, but I’m not sure it’s something I can come back from. This is another reason I want to be back with my old gang. With trusted friends around, I feel stronger and I know they’ll pick up on signs of danger. Worst case scenario, they put me down before I can go too far. It’s what I’d do for them.”

“I wish you the best in keeping the monster at bay. Any closing thoughts for our listeners today?”

“If you enjoy action-filled adventures and vampires that aren’t searching for jailbait then check out my story. I mean, I’m not a noble hero like that Luke Callindor kid and his friends, but I’m highly entertaining. By the way, I haven’t been on Earth ever since the author guy moved me to Windemere. Know where I could pick up a cheesecake and maybe a few pints of hospital grade blood?”

“Sorry, robot girl. No blood here.

“Listeners can learn all about Clyde and the Dawn Fangs in the book War of Nytefall, by Charles Yallowitz. This is the first volume in a series and is a great time to jump on board what promises to be quite the adventure. I’ll post all the info on the website after I go off the air.

“Don’t forget to use those sharing buttons today. Charles has done it for many of you, and he deserves a bit of payback now.

“For Lisa Burton Radio, I’m Lisa Burton.”

***

In the wake of the Great Cataclysm, a new predator will emerge from within Windemere’s shadow.

For fifty years, Clyde has been trapped beneath the earth while the vampire kingdom has been gradually losing its war against the Sun God’s followers. Only Mab believes that her partner survived his holy execution and is determined to bring him back to the city of Nyte. Retrieving the vampiric thief is only the beginning as he comes out of the ground stronger, faster, and possessing abilities that their kind have never witnessed throughout their ancient history. Thrown into the war, Clyde must be careful to hide his true nature while fighting alongside his old friends. Too bad he is having so much fun being free that keeping his secret might be the furthest thing from his mind.

Will anyone be ready for the inevitable rise of the Dawn Fangs?

Pick up your copy here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CBQXLBV/

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.

You can find Charles on the following social media sites:

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

Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Last scoop of Macabre Macaroni this year

The Zombie Fighters

We stood back to back in the old basement. Joey held his sword off to his left, and I held mine up with the blade in front of my face. We made a deadly team, but the zombie horde upstairs would be the biggest one we’d ever faced.

Joey turned his San Diego Padres cap around backwards. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” I rushed the stairway with Joey at my heels.

The zombies almost looked surprised. I probably imagined it, because they don’t have any emotions or feelings. They’d already eaten half the families in town, and I recognized a few of them as having been local people. I stepped into the shell of the burned out house and made sure to move far enough that Joey could support me.

I lowered my sword and thrust through the face of the first one, making sure to slice on the draw so my blade wouldn’t get stuck. He fell in a heap of stinking rotten flesh, and I swung at one to my right.

Joey gave a masterful stroke, slicing completely through one Zombie and into the skull of the one beside it. “That was my Tony Gwynn swing, you bastards.”

“Looks like you hit a double. There’s home runs waiting in the other room.”

We worked our way through the sooty kitchen and into the living room. Seventeen of the damned things greeted us there.

The fight was long and bloody. Joey went to his knees, but I rescued him before he got bitten. That only left the upstairs bedrooms to clear. Should be a breeze after what we’d already accomplished.

Joey led the way up this staircase, and we took care to avoid the ledge. The fire destroyed the railing and it was a long drop.

We kicked open doors and slashed our way room by room until we were the only things left standing.

The last room looked like it must have been the master bedroom. The fire damaged it more than the others. Even the exterior wall and roof were gone.

I tested the floor with each step. No sense surviving the zombies and falling through a crumbling floor. I looked out towards town, and everything was quiet as the sun dipped behind a ridge. More zombies moved though the forest, and they were coming our way.

Joey grabbed a ruined pillowcase and hung it from a nail.

“What’s that for?”

“It’s our flag. This is where we make our stand. If we get split up, we meet back here.”

“Good idea. This can be our fort.” I dropped my stick-sword onto the sooty floor. “Only we’ll have to defend it tomorrow.”

“But they’re almost here.”

I wrapped an arm around my brother’s shoulder. “The street lights came on. You know how mom gets if we don’t go home right away. Schools out now, we have all summer to defend our fort.”

***

This is my reminder that I have two books of short stories and micro-fiction available. There are plenty of Halloween suitable stories among these pages.

The best news is they are only 99¢ each. If you enjoyed Macabre Macaroni this year, maybe these books are what you’re looking for.

Book one

Book two

Enter the Macabre Sanctuary

I was invited to participate in an anthology called Macabre Sanctuary. To my astonishment, my submission was accepted.

There are some heavy hitters in this group, and you get ten short stories for the price of free.

This one is climbing up the ranks, and hit #9 recently. The timing couldn't be better with Halloween right around the corner.

For my part, I explored the thought of being forgotten. When we die, we're only a generation away from complete anonymity. Most of us won't leave behind a record of most strikeouts, a motion picture legacy, or a leadership role that changed the world somehow. We're just honest, hardworking folks who hope our children turned out well.

Here is the blurb and the download link:

Macabre Sanctuary

Thrills. Chills. Shadows and superstitions. Things that go bump in the night. Macabre Sanctuary boasts suspenseful fiction designed to elicit goosebumps and raise heartrates.

Learn the lore of a haunted island.

Grapple with the undead while robbing graves Halloween night.

Endure a hazing ritual unlike any other.

Deal with a demon at an All Souls' Day celebration.

See what happens when you court death in the wild.

Battle zombies and cannibals in a quest to stay alive.

Travel back in time to witness the birth of true evil.

Fear prophetic nightmares made manifest.

Come to terms with new ethereal realities.

Befriend a feline to extend earthly life.

This collection from ten talented authors offers ghosts and demons, spirits and zombies, cannibals and killers… even a ferocious animal. Historical and contemporary tales of violence and fright keep readers on the edges of their seats. There’s something for everyone who loves spine-tingling, bone-chilling, blood-curdling stories.

***

Honestly, how can you pass this up when it's free? The download link is Macabre Sanctuary.

 

Take a chance on Legends of Windemere

Charles Yallowitz is here to tell us about a cool new marketing technique he’s trying out. He’s reached a point in his Windemere series that I think this is a great move.

 

Take a chance on Legends of Windemere, and the first one’s on Charles.

Thank you to C.S. Boyack for letting me promote my secret project. I recently made the choice to make Legends of Windemere: Beginning of a Hero permanently free. This is the first book of my series, which I published in February 2013 for 99 cents. This is what started it all for me and now I’m giving it away for nothing. So, what brought me to a choice I never thought I’d make?

To be completely honest, a friend kicked me in the butt a few times. This isn’t the first time I considered the idea, but I always stopped myself. As an author, I worry that going free will come off as desperate and do more harm than good. Free has a strange history with the indie scene since you have authors who churn out freebies left and right. The stigma is that such an act equates to terrible quality and these books should be avoided. Needless to say, this gave me pause until a friend pointed out my situation.

 

Being a series author, I can use the permanently free book to my advantage. Early on this might not have worked out too well, but now I have 9 Windemere volumes out. Soon to be 10 if you want to get technical. This is where I can turn the first book into a ‘loss leader’. I’d heard of this during one of my retail jobs, but it had a different meaning. The term was used for whatever had the highest rate of getting shoplifted. Apparently, that definition isn’t common. In fact, it might only be used by that one manager and I’ve been wrong all along.

 

For those that don’t know, a ‘loss leader’ is the item that you give away for either free or cheap to get people interested in associated items. In this case, it’s the first book a series that will hopefully get readers into the rest. Beginning of a Hero has always been cheap, so I don’t lose much in terms of royalties. This can also open up the marketing venues that cater specifically to free books.

 

Needless to say, a lot of option weighing and heavy thinking was done before I came to this course of action. Two things came to mind during this period. The first is that I had to get over my ego and pride to give the concept a true consideration. Somewhere along the line, I decided that going perma-free was beneath me instead of it simply being a bad fit for me. So when my situation changed, I didn’t change along with it and take another look at the pros and cons of this path.

 

The second thing that came to my mind was that change. I’ve been doing this for just over 3 years, which seems to be a long time in indie author time. I remember when KDP gave you money by the borrow and then the 10% rule. There were tons of marketing sites and new ones popping up every month. Getting into the subcategories wasn’t common knowledge. All of this changed and I stayed the course, which felt right until I realized it made me part of the scenery as well. I took a risk becoming an indie author, especially since I went full time. Then I stopped taking risks and played it safe. Now I’m trying to step out of that comfort zone and see if it pays off. Fingers crossed that it does.

 

Links

Legends of Windemere

Twitter

Facebook

Grab Legends of Windemere: Beginning of a Hero for Free!

 

***

What are you waiting for? This is a great opportunity to test drive the Legends of Windemere with no risk. It’s a bold move, and I’m sure Charles would appreciate all the Facebook shares, Tweets, and other support you can lend him. That won’t cost you anything either.