Why Marla Ansbury Peed in English Class

Abigail MacSnorter infuriated Marla Ansbury the day in April 1959 when Bob Saxon asked her to the prom. Abigail didn't know why Bob had chosen her. After all, she had average mousy brown hair, forgettable facial features and an ordinary body. She preferred to blend in rather than shine with the star quarterback.

Abigail asked, “Why me?”

“You're new this year and I figured you might not be asked, so I request your presence. Besides, you are far more beautiful than you look.” Bob smiled while Abigail contemplated what Bob could possibly mean by saying she was more beautiful than she looked.

Rather than make a fuss or draw attention to herself, Abigail accepted. Unfortunately, accepting a prom date when you're the new kid in school is just as likely to outrage the other girls as would a rejection. Accept and you discover the boy in question was already taken as far as the other girls were concerned. Refuse and you declare war on the rest of the senior class because the star quarterback with the movie star body somehow isn't good enough for you.

Marla Ansbury's fury derived from her position as head cheerleader, leading candidate for prom queen, and the class-designated future trophy wife of Bob Saxon. Marla believed these things but had some doubts since the night last summer when Bob dumped her. While Marla possessed most of the qualities a man could want from a girlfriend, he preferred girls on the college track which in 1959 actually required high performance in high school math, science, literature and several long dead languages.

Things quieted down until the Wednesday evening before the prom. Marla knocked on the door to Abigail's apartment where she lived with her grandmother. When Abigail opened the door, Marla fired both barrels of her dad's 12 gauge. The recoil knocked Marla on her butt in the hallway. Abigail flew back into her living room with a massive wound to her midsection. Blood splattered about the room and soaked the carpet. Without a word, Marla stood up and strolled out of the building.

The next day, Abigail sauntered into English class, smiled at Marla as if nothing had happened, and plopped onto her desk. Marla turned ashen. She peed through her skirt enough to form a large puddle under her seat.

If Marla had stayed longer the previous night, she would not have missed the show. Instead, she would have witnessed Abigail “Snipgridixz” MacSnorter's teenage alien hermaphrodite shapeshifter body reabsorb her blood. She may have seen Abigail's internal organs reshape into their proper alien form, which is somewhat different than human anatomy. However, she would not have observed much after Abigail's skin expanded to seal her massive wound.

Abigail never did figure out what Bob Saxon meant when he said, “You are far more beautiful than you look.” It was enough to make a girl wonder if ol' Bob knew more than he let on.

THE END

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When Tom Stone Failed to Impress

When Tom Stone failed to impress his chemistry teacher, Mr. Boron ordered him under the class emergency shower. Tom obliged, clothes and all. Within a minute he began to sing America the Beautiful. The usual wiseguys joined in until Mr. Boron ordered silence. “Rush to the nurses office,” he ordered Tom.

“It's okay, Mr. Boron. My hands are better.” Tom held them out for inspection.

Mr. Boron checked Tom's hands, front and back. “Impossible. You spilled sulfuric acid. Your shirtsleeves are half eaten away so should the skin on your wrists and forearms, but they're not. You splashed sulfuric acid on your shirt and pants. Your clothes have the holes to prove it, yet you have no burns. How is that possible?”

“Somebody watered down the acid?” Tom suggested.

Mr. Boron issued the final word on spilled sulfuric acid. “Nonsense. Head down to the nurse's office this instant, young man. Tell her what happened. Go.”

It was the final word for Tom Stone. He padded down the hall out of the science wing headed for the front entrance of Claymore High School in the tiny town of the same name located a few miles northeast of Madison, Wisconsin. The year was 1952. Tom preferred to stay until graduation, but he knew from experience that Miss Atkins, the school nurse, would ask too many questions. She was inquisitive that way. Meanwhile, Mr. Boron would research the possibilities for the instant healing from acid burns. Sooner or later he would run across rumors of shapeshifters walking the earth and men in black.

Back home, Snipgridixz removed his wet clothes and shifted his Tom Stone body in the female direction. Small teenage boobs popped out on his chest. Strange things happened down below. Since she lacked clothes appropriate to a teenage girl, Snipgridixz changed into one of her “Grandma” outfits and morphed into her sixty-something Grandma persona. Her boobs sagged, her hips spread, her knees bent low and her old lady clothes fit. Her hair turned gray and frizzy, her face wrinkled. “Perfect,” Snipgridixz said.

On the way out, she couldn't help but notice the black 1951 Dodge sedan cruise into the parking lot. Four tall thin men stepped out. They wore black suits, white shirts, black neck ties, black shoes and black hats. They had covered their eyes with sunglasses. “Excuse me, ma'am,” shouted one of the men. “Have you seen this young man. He lives in this apartment complex.”

Snipgridixz Grandma stepped close to the men. She smiled to reveal cracked teeth and receding gums with many gaps. “I know the boy. He should be in school at this time of day.” Her words included enough spittle to spot the closest man's sunglasses.

The men gagged on Grandma's breath. “Thanks, ma'am.” The men shuffled into the apartment building.

Snipgridixz Grandma drove off in the direction of the afternoon sun. She glanced at the empty seat next to her. “Don't worry, dear, you're so pretty and Grandma will buy new outfits for when you begin high school in our new hometown in Arizona.”

THE END

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Middle-Aged Teenage Alien Hermaphrodite Shapeshifter

The young male strapped naked to the autopsy table widened his orange eyeball. He followed with his green one. “You'd really remove my brain and replace it later?”

The doctor's breath carried the aroma of Milwaukee's finest beer combined with Wisconsin bratwurst. The medical practitioner waved a scalpel over his victim. A long female face appeared next to him.

“Fred, my name is Doctor, well, we don't reveal our names in the laboratory of the black dress code, but I don't suppose your name is Fred either. Much too earther. I'm delighted to confirm our plan to borrow your brain. We'll store it in a large glass jar filled with formaldehyde to preserve it. As I mentioned before, you don't have to worry. I'll replace it when I'm finished with my studies.”

The doctor and his female companion backed away as “Fred” reshaped his body to free himself from his restraints. The doctor and his assistant continued to step back when Fred morphed into his normal blue-gray alien body with the giant eyes and tiny mouth on a triangle shaped head. When he stepped toward the physician and his assistant, the doctor tripped over his feet. He landed hard on the blood-red enamel-painted concrete floor. His assistant tumbled down with him.

“He's knocked out,” said the assistant after she checked on the physician.

Fred approached her. “Please give me your clothes.”

“Pardon me?”

“Su clothes, por favor. Now.” Fred placed a hand on the assistant's shoulder. She either fainted or faked it. Either way, Fred caught her in mid-collapse. He stripped her before he strapped her naked on the autopsy table. After dressing in her clothes, underwear and all, he morphed into the exact likeness of the female assistant, except for an oversized butt, third boob and six bellybuttons. He adjusted his chest but failed to notice his very noticeable butt. Fred, now Frieda, placed a surgical saw in the physician's hand before she left the building.

The lab was housed in the basement so Frieda had to find the stairwell. She exited the stairs on the first floor where she came out at the back of a large office of black-suited bureaucrats. Several people greeted her as Mona. Frieda changed her name to Mona to accommodate. She felt an urge that she couldn't identify until she noticed the Ladies room sign. What the heck, she thought, earthers might prefer privacy when they eliminate.

Later, Mona tried the female assistant's car key in every automobile in the building parking lot before she decided the woman must have parked in another location. Besides, she had no idea how to operate an earther vehicle. The stranger meandered down the street with a grin. It was a brisk, sunny November afternoon in 1946, and it must have been payday on earth for the stolen purse contained a large wad of greenbacks. “I simply must learn my human anatomy,” Mona said aloud to no one as she set out on her next adventure on a her new planet.

THE END

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Brainless Alien?

Four tall, thin men dressed in black suits and fedoras arrested the quiet stranger teenager Elizabeth Stockmeyer and her mother called “Fred.” Sheriff Winslow Tate sipped Mrs. Stockmeyer's fresh coffee with his back to the arrest by the outsiders. He stared at the kitchen counter as the four agents from who-knew-what federal agency handcuffed and hauled the young man out to their black late model Ford sedan. As far as the sheriff could tell, the only crime the lad committed, other than his odd looks, including a left arm that was a foot longer than his right, was to pop out of the woods buck naked earlier that morning and thereby expose himself to an innocent young Wisconsin teenager on a cold November morning. The year was 1946. Sheriff Tate knew if it was up to him, he'd haul the young man to the state line and turn him loose with the warning never to show his butt in Grant county again. He couldn't even look Mrs. Stockmeyer in the eye when she moaned, “What the hell.” Sixteen-year-old Elizabeth explained that the boy was a fugging Nazi spy. Her mother scolded her for her language.

The four agents drove “Fred” to Madison where they parked in back of a nondescript four-story office structure that could have been a state government building or something else. Within minutes, the men had taken “Fred” to a basement laboratory and strapped him down on an autopsy table, but as a stranger from a far distant place, Fred did not recognize it as such.

The four black suits left the room. Another few minutes passed when a middle aged plump man entered accompanied by a woman, also middle aged. She was tall and thin, an apparent sister to the black suits. She and the man wore black lab coats, surgical masks and head coverings.

“Do you understand English?” the big man asked.

“Si,” replied “Fred.”

“What's your real name?” the woman asked.

“They call me Fred.”

“But your real name is?” asked the rotund man as he rolled a cart filled with surgical instruments up to the autopsy table.

“Fred.”

“Well, Fred, your name is of no matter. Welcome to earth, to America, the land of the free and home of the brave. We would love to interview you in depth about your advanced alien science, but we simply don't have time. Our superiors want us to learn everything about your biology and they want to know immediately. Something about not wanting to unleash alien bacteria and such on America. We're delighted to see that you look like us, with a few weird exceptions like your orange and green eyes, purple hair and one arm longer than the other. It'll make our living autopsy easier. I'll begin by removing your brain for examination. Don't worry, I'll put it back when I'm finished. You don't mind, do you?”

The man and the woman both bellowed their best rendition of an evil mwa-ha-ha laugh.

THE END

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Elizabeth Stockmeyer's Most Unusual Morning

Through her glasses, with lenses thick as a soda bottle bottom, sixteen-year-old Elizabeth Stockmeyer spotted a flash of bare human flesh through the woods about 20 yards down Stickle Road from her family's farm. Snipgridix, the teenage alien hermaphrodite shapeshifter, wandered out of the forest. Unfortunately, he hadn't yet mastered the art of being human. His sky blue left foot was a size 6 and his right sky blue foot size 18. The right side of his body was white while the left side was black. Otherwise, he appeared average height, weight, brown hair and forgettable face. He had one purple eyeball and one orange.

The most interesting thing, of course, for young Elizabeth was she now knew what gentleman kepthidden beneath their khakis. She suspected the weather on this November morning in 1946 may have affected the young man's, uh, “equipment” which the stranger made no attempt to cover. She had heard from the other girls to expect the young man's thingie to be much larger.

“Buenas dias,” said the youth. “You wouldn't happen to know where I could obtain some of those outer coverings you creatures wear, would you?”

“You must be freezing. Here, cover yourself with my coat.” Elizabeth removed her navy blue wool A-line jacket and handed it to the stranger.

“Thank you.” The newcomer attempted to put the coat on upside down. Then he twisted it sideways to wear like a wrap. He smiled at Elizabeth. “Ist gute, ya?”

“You'd think you never in your life wore a coat before. Let me help you.” Elizabeth moved behind the man and held up the jacket. “Slip your arms in these holes.” From this position she missed seeing the young man conform his body to the size of the A-line. “Oh, my, a perfect fit, but how is that possible? Come to my house where you may borrow my father's clothes. They'll be way too big on you, but you can't go about naked and half frozen to death even if you are a Nazi spy.”

While her Mom assisted the young visitor with his apparel needs, Elizabeth waited in the kitchen with a well-sugared and creamed cup of coffee by the wood stove. She sauntered down the hall where she called the sheriff's department on the telephone to report the arrival of the odd-colored naked stranger. The sheriff ended the conversation by suggesting Elizabeth make a fresh pot of coffee.

Within a short time, her mother returned with the young man behind.

“Your father's clothes fit,” Mom said.

“But that's not possible,” Elizabeth said. “My coat fit him before. Besides he lost some of his color and now his feet match. What's going on here?”

“We can worry about that later. I'll drive you to school, but first, let me pour Fred a cup of coffee.” Mom picked up the coffeepot.

“Sorry, Mom, but I called the sheriff. We should wait.”

“Don't worry. I'll make breakfast for Fred in the meantime.”

Thirty minutes later, Fred, or Snipgridix as his home world folks named him, watched out the window of the kitchen as Sheriff Tate liberated his oversize mid-section from behind the wheel of his Chevy in the driveway. An unmarked black Ford sedan parked next to the sheriff's Chevy and ejected four tall, thin men dressed in black suits, black neckties, white shirts, black hats and black shoes. They wore black sunglasses.

THE END

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Fred Freeborner's Alien

In the years that followed, farmer Fred Freeborner told anyone who would listen about the alien visitation in his deer blind at daybreak on November 15, 1946. He took pains to point out this was the deer blind on the west end of his southwest Wisconsin dairy farm, not the one over near Bob Perkins' blueberry farm.

What he thought was an unusual three-horned black bear lumbered down the deer path in front of him. Later he learned the creature was likely the legendary Mudvarian Primbobber. Whether horned bear or legendary creature, it morphed into one of those scary space aliens. You know the kind. They’re blue-gray, have a teeny, tiny slit for a mouth and have a triangular-shaped head with no hair. Their eyes are super large and twisted at an angle down from their oversized brains. They communicate by mental telepathy.

These aliens kidnap weird people to conduct painful experiments. They stick long needles into their bellies and steal their mojo before they return them to the world like a fisherman playing catch and release. Their victims then travel anywhere they can find listeners who want to hear about their alien abduction, but nobody believes them. Would you? Well, the Mudvarian Primbobber turned into one of those aliens.

The strange visitor, strolled to the bottom of the hill by the creek. He glanced up the trunk of the big oak, noticed Fred in his deer blind and said, “Good morning” without moving his mouth.

Fred, who at this point realized he had snatched the 22 longs instead of the .30-06 cartridges he needed for his Remington 1903/A3 .30-06 Springfield when he left the house, began to fumble around for the hunting knife that at the time resided under the seat of his red 1945 Ford pickup parked 100 yards south by the side of road.

In his best clear American, Snipgridixz the newly-arrived teenage alien hermaphrodite shapeshifter, said, “Oops. Das vas nix gute.” He morphed into a naked young man. “Is this better?” And it would have been if Snipgridixz had morphed into a normal human instead of his blue-footed version with a left foot size 6 and a right foot size 18. If both sides of his body had the same color skin, well, that would have helped also.

Fred nodded but the words simply would not form in his mouth so he grunted and groaned as the strange nude figure wandered into the woods on the other side of the creek. Fred took a gulp of java embellished with his home brewed Wisconsin cheese liqueur but spit it out. He always ended the tale by mentioning the men in black visited him two days later.

THE END

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Glickenhopper's Mudvarian Primbobber

After he blew up his flying saucer, quite by accident you understand, Snipgridixz waited in Lake Winnebago. When the soldiers finished their cleanup, he ventured onto shore where he rested in the form of a Mudvarian Primbobber. He may have remained asleep all night if Private Elmore Glickenhopper hadn't stepped on him while on patrol. Glickenhopper jerked back. “What was that?” He shone his flashlight on the sleeping form with the boot print on its butt.

Glickenhopper had never seen an animal like a Mudvarian Primbobber. It appeared the right size for a black bear. But what about those three horns on one end of the the brute's body? Were the  horns on its head or its butt? Glickenhopper wasn't certain. He noticed the beast's scaly skin and bloated body. The animal either burped or farted. Glickenhopper couldn't be certain which end was which, but the aroma assaulted the nasal passages only slightly more than the fragrance of a barracks where 40 GIs slept off a beer and beans night at the NCO club.

The Mudvarian Primbobber galloped into the darkness of the Northwoods never to be seen again except for occasional appearances in his many other forms like the Jersey Devil, Rhinelander Hodag, the Lizard Man of Scrape Ore Swamp, and of course, your average American teenager. Snipgridixz could even land in your school. Have you checked on the new kid in your chemistry class? Snipgridixz enjoys masquerading as a boy most times, talkative as ever, and always, well, almost always, one step ahead of the Men in Black.

THE END

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First Day on Earth

On the night of November 14, 1946, Snipgridixz bumped into a panel on the saucer's main control panel. The defense shield dropped. Slipgringil screamed “Brizilagramp,” a bad word in his native language. A captured German V-2 rocket flew through the open docking bay door where it exploded against the back wall.

The flying saucer disintegrated but Snipgridixz escaped when the blast blew him out the open bay door. He spread a pair of bat-like wings and flapped until he landed in Lake Winnebago near Paynes Point, a tiny tourist area south of Neenah, Wisconsin. Air-filled float bags replaced his bat wings once he hit the water. As he watched, the rest of the crew, including Slipgringil, landed in a cluster on shore, but in the dark, Snipgridixz didn't spot any movement. He assumed they must be unconscious or worse.

U.S Army soldiers assigned to monitor the V2 test approached the crash site. They divided into two groups upon arrival. The first panicked and scattered into the surrounding forest. Snipgridixz heard their screams mixed with the battle noise of M1 rifle fire from the braver soldiers. Snipgridixz knew his shipmates died in the saucer explosion. Otherwise, they may have laughed at the soldiers. He regretted causing the accident that killed his crewmates, but what could anyone expect from a teenage alien hermaphrodite shapeshifter?

Major Medford Stormblazer, commander of the Army battalion, ordered the alien bodies burned and the scattered debris tossed into the lake. In his memoir written years later, he mentioned how he feared an Army investigation into why he destroyed an actual flying saucer and ordered his men to kill the occupants. No one believed his memoir, of course.

THE END

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Gregorian Chant

It's only Gregorian Chant but I like it. I like it.

Yeah, Gregorian Chant is definitely not rock and roll. But you'll like it if you need soft, melodic, easy listening music, especially if you've never experienced the solemnity of prayers sung in Latin. But don't take my word for it. Click here to listen.

Click here to learn more about Gregorian Chant than you'll ever need to know. I recommend checking out the Wikipedia link because the history isn't what I thought it was and you'll get a good grasp of its history in the first couple of paragraphs. Gregorian Chant came later than I thought -- about 750 to 1100 depending on who you believe. A number of earlier plainchant forms existed, however.

The music is hauntingly beautiful. I recommend it as background music. A friend said you wouldn't be able to understand the individual words because of the drawn out vowel sounds. It's sung in Latin so even if you can figure out the words, you won't understand them unless you speak Latin. If I listen close, I can pick up some of the Latin words remembered from my youth when the Mass was still sung or said in Latin.

Click here to find the Latin words and Gregorian Chant notes. Be forewarned that the Kyrie is in Greek. This link is really cool because you can see the old form of notation. Music notes evolved over time so it's special to see the earlier forms. The text is from the post Vatican II form of the Mass. In the middle ages, the mass was slightly different. Take a quick look just for fun. If you're into music, this should be a real joy. If you're into Christian prayer forms, the text will also bring you joy.

ENJOY.
THE END

Listen to Gregorian Chant while reading HAGS. This novel is spooky with its witchcraft and spiritual warfare in the midst of a serial killer and a guy who just wants to clear his name after spending 15 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit (or did he?) Find out in HAGS.

Heart Attack

“You had a heart attack, but that's not what I'm worried about,” said Dr. Johnson,

Boy was I relieved to learn he meant my other head. I explained that on Flnxerod we all have two heads except for those pesky Reblandersnaps who only have one but it's huge with one big eye. But that's another story.

Dr. Johnson stared at me, both of me, as though examining a dead body at autopsy. Well, we were in the autopsy room when I came to the first time. Good thing Dr. Johnson hadn't opened me up for the autopsy yet. After a lengthy stare, he asked, “What about your yellow eyes, all four of them? They're yellow. We'll have to test for jaundice.”

“But on Zlipnork, we all have yellow eyes,” I lied.

After another moment of a downright rude glare, Dr. Johnson said, “But what about your liver?”

“Liver? What's a liver?” I asked. That's when I knew I was in for a long haul. At the same moment, I realized I was stark, raving naked.

THE END


Molly and Jack 
 
Molly, did you read Snpgrdxz?

Which one, Jack?

The first one, Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters.

Finished it last week. Why?

So did you read the second one?

You mean Snpgrdxz and the Time Warriors? The one you told me about last week and I quote: With the troll zombies behind them and Nosferatu, werewolves and worse in front of them, Bryan Ganarski and Jennifer Hawkins rush headlong into a romantic, fast-paced misadventure. Joining them on the journey are Gilbert, Tony, CJ and the rest of the gang, including Snpgrdxz, the teenaged space alien shape shifter who can be either a boy or girl depending on his or her mood. Little do they know what monsters await. Is Bryan still totally insane or is there a part of him that can fall in love with the right version of his time-traveling girlfriend? With hormones, earther and other, flying high, will these intrepid time warriors find their way home or become stuck in yet another out-of-time calamity?

Well, don't just sit there. Click here and buy Snpgrdxz and the Time Warriors.

Click.

Beginning Part 2

A prelude to my novel Fulfillment

Awake

Back inside the safety of the glowing light of an oil lamp and the lingering warmth of a fading cooking fire, Mary found her mother wiping the last of the plates.

“Where’s your dish, Mary?” Mother asked.

“Oh, I must have dropped it outside with the food. May I take Big Ears with me, Mother?”

“Mary, you’re such a child! Joseph wants a wife, not a pet.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask him. I think he likes dogs.”

“How would you know a thing like that?”

“I don’t really. I just said that I think he likes dogs. It’s what I think and what I hope. I will miss Big Ears if I can’t take him with me, Mother.”

“You’re not planning to take me along with you, too, are you?”

“Oh, Mother, of course not! You’re too old and besides, Daddy needs you here.”

“Thanks a lot, pal. Perhaps Daddy needs Big Ears. Somebody has to eat the scraps and I suppose lick the plates if you don’t run outside this instant and retrieve that plate, my young one.”

“Yes, mother. Where is Daddy, anyway?”

“He’s sleeping. He’s had a rough day and needs his rest. He’s not as young as he used to be. So you’ll be quiet, won’t you, dear?”

“Of course, Mother.”

As Mary started for the back door of the cottage, there was a loud rush of wind and the cooking fire flared up with a whoosh.

“Mother, what was that?”

“It’s probably just the wind. Perhaps a storm is on the way. We could use the rain.”

“It didn’t sound like any wind I ever heard,” Mary responded.

“Oh, Mary, the things you think about! Go get that plate, now. I’m waiting.”

Mary returned to the yard and snatched up the plate. Was that a giant moonlit shadow she saw crossing the stone wall behind her house again? Mary gasped for breath and then ran in.

“Mother, Big Ears never came for his supper. Do you suppose something could have happened to him?”

“Don’t be a worry-wart, child. He’s probably visiting his fiancé. Dogs get married too, sometimes.”

“No they don’t. They just pretend they’re married and make puppies.”

“Mary!”

“Well, it’s true.”

“You’re far too young to speak of such things.”

“I’m engaged to be married. I have to know about these things!”

“I suppose, but you’re still a little girl to me.”

“Mother!”

“I know, dear. Time flies on eagle’s wings while here below, we just get older.”

“I’m going to my room now, Mother.”

“Give your mother a kiss before you go.”

“Yes, Mother.”

As Mary turned away from kissing her mother’s cheek, she heard a loud, hissing snake-like voice, “Marrrry, I amm heeee whoooo destroyssss you. I am he who rulesssss.”

Mary turned back to her mother and asked, “What was that?”

“What was what,” Mother replied.

“That horrible voice.”

“What voice?”

Mary awoke in her bed. How long have I been asleep?

THE END

The story continues in my novel Fulfillment

Satan had no idea who he was messing with.
Mary wasn’t your ordinary unmarried pregnant teenager. This kid had moxie and connections in extremely high places.

In Fulfillment, the secret concerning the baby in Mary’s womb attracts evil spirits, a woman-hating ancient Israeli monster named Lilith, a king, soldiers and a would-be lover all bent on destroying her. Mary’s journey, while steeped with betrayal and the foul stench of the ultimate demon, is a setup for an even bigger story. She discovers a lost love found, the promise of a newborn king, and a wealth of new friends from a dwarf with the heart of a warrior to the young mother who loses her husband and children in a bloody massacre. Laugh, cry and gain new insights into the Christmas story as you read Fulfillment.

“The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth so that he might devour her child the moment it was born.”
Revelation 12:4b

Click here to choose the paperback or Kindle version.

Paperback copies make excellent Christmas presents, especially for those who enjoy an original horror story. Tell them it's like Stephen King or Frank Peretti visiting the first century.

Click here to visit my author page on Amazon.

Beginning Part 1

A prelude to my novel Fulfillment

Asleep

As Mary waited for sleep, her thoughts turned to the evil that now haunted her.

“Yes, Mother. I will, Mother,” Mary remembered answering. She was being polite and submissive, not exasperated the way she really felt. She remembered grabbing one of the plates and gathering the scrapings of vegetable skins and leftover bones along with the crumbs of bread from the new wooden eating table and taking them into the yard in back of the family cottage. There she placed the scraps on the ground and called, “Big Ears! Come eat your supper.”

Mary listened. The gathering darkness hurried her thoughts. She did not like to be alone outside when the sun went down, even in her own family’s yard. “Big Ears!” she called again. A loud whoosh of wind passed close behind her, rustling her skirt. She suppressed an urge to cry out, speaking a soft, “Oh!” instead. She turned around but there was nothing, only the ever darkening sky. In the distance beyond the village limits, the hills disappeared in the blackness against the night.

“Big Ears!” she cried again, this time in the new direction toward the hills behind her village home. There was no response so she bent over and emptied the plate onto the ground. While she was bent over, she heard the roar.

She thought at first it must be the roar of a lion, but of course there were no lions in the hills nowadays. Perhaps a wolf, or maybe a leopard, she thought. But wolves do not roar, do they? Must be a leopard. Or a jackal. She slowly straightened her tiny back and shivered. Her face, which had been smiling when she came out of the house, now bore a frown of worry and something else. Her eyes slowly began to show the something else when a huge dark shadow passed along a stone wall in the yard. Her mouth opened slowly as she held back the urge to scream as long as she could. When the roar came again, she released a suppressed “huh!” and then dropped the plate on top of Big Ears’ supper. She turned and ran.

To be continued...
 

Satan had no idea who he was messing with.
Mary wasn’t your ordinary unmarried pregnant teenager. This kid had moxie and connections in extremely high places.

In Fulfillment, the secret concerning the baby in Mary’s womb attracts evil spirits, a woman-hating ancient Israeli monster named Lilith, a king, soldiers and a would-be lover all bent on destroying her. Mary’s journey, while steeped with betrayal and the foul stench of the ultimate demon, is a setup for an even bigger story. She discovers a lost love found, the promise of a newborn king, and a wealth of new friends from a dwarf with the heart of a warrior to the young mother who loses her husband and children in a bloody massacre. Laugh, cry and gain new insights into the Christmas story as you read Fulfillment.

“The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth so that he might devour her child the moment it was born.”
Revelation 12:4b

Click here to choose the paperback or Kindle version.

Paperback copies make excellent Christmas presents, especially for those who enjoy an original horror story. Tell them it's like Stephen King or Frank Peretti visiting the first century.

Click here to visit my author page on Amazon.

Fulfillment

As one critic wrote:
“This may be the most unique version of the Christian Nativity story ever written.… Author Paul R. Lloyd has turned his fertile and vivid imagination loose on a story that millions of people hold sacred and find too familiar to grab much attention during its telling. But hold on to your hats! This one is different!”

I suspect most people today think of Christmas as that cheery time when we gather the family, exchange gifts, fool little people into believing in Santa Clause, and oh by the way, celebrate the birth of Jesus in that stable in long ago Bethlehem.

What could be sweeter than the birth of a baby destined to grow up to save us from the evil clutches of Satan and an eternity in hell? Cool story, right? Except buried near the end of the Bible version, King Herod orders the murder of every male child under age two in the town of Bethlehem. This mass murder probably included a lot of girl babies, if you think about it, because soldiers aren’t particular when they have to fend off moms and dads attempting to protect their young. This means a lot of moms and dads may have died as part of that horrible event. It’s likely that a number of Bethlehem families were entirely wiped out.

The purpose of the mass execution was to kill the Christ child who King Herod saw as a threat to his family’s dynasty. So here’s the thing – this act of violence shows believers that the enemy – Satan and his minions – were out to stop the Messiah from saving the world. We think of this as a type of spiritual warfare.

I found it interesting that in more than 2,000 years following the massacre, no one had written a story about what Satan was up to while God was about the business of sending Jesus to save the world. No one, that is, until I wrote Fulfillment.

My story is about realistic people rather than plaster saints. People in ancient Palestine laughed, cried, celebrated, worried and did all the other things we normal type modern folks do. Mary and Joseph in my novel battle Satan’s attempts to destroy them and their baby.

As I thought about putting this story to electronic paper, I considered what would Satan’s natural strategy be? If Jesus is the Son of God, then he is way too powerful for Satan to attack directly. So what do you do if you’re Satan? Kill the mother before Jesus is born, that’s what.

But Satan had no idea who he was messing with. Mary wasn’t your ordinary unmarried pregnant teenager. This kid had moxie and connections in extremely high places.

In Fulfillment, the secret concerning the baby in Mary’s womb attracts evil spirits, a woman-hating ancient Israeli monster named Lilith, a king, soldiers and a would-be lover all bent on destroying her. Mary’s journey, while steeped with betrayal and the foul stench of the ultimate demon, is a setup for an even bigger story. She discovers a lost love found, the promise of a newborn king, and a wealth of new friends from a dwarf with the heart of a warrior to the young mother who loses her husband and children in a bloody massacre. Laugh, cry and gain new insights into the Christmas story as you read Fulfillment.

“The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth so that he might devour her child the moment it was born.”
Revelation 12:4b

Click here to choose the paperback or Kindle version.

Choose the Kindle version for yourself. Paperback copies make excellent Christmas presents, especially for those who are not likely to read the original Christmas story in the Bible but will read a horror story. Tell them it's like Stephen King visiting the first century.

Click here to visit my author page on Amazon.

Favorite Halloween Posts

As it turns out, I haven’t posted a scary story on Halloween on the blog. Instead, here are three past posts for your consideration for your Halloween reading.

Not Just Any Ghost
Rediscovering the Ring
How can a Christian write a story where a character commits a murder?

Among my novels, Hags, Steel Pennies and the Snpgrdxz series should tickle your scary bone. Save Fulfillment for your Christmas season reading.

I would be honored if you chose one of my stories for your next reading experience. If you do, please let me know how you enjoyed it by commenting below or on Amazon. I also enjoy hearing from readers at my author’s email address which is paul dot lloyd dot author at gmail dot com. (Thanks for taking time to figure out that email address so I don’t have to worry about the spider bots getting me.)

Be sure to click on the BOGO button above for my latest buy one, get one free book offer.

Where to find story ideas worthy of your writing time

What do you like to write about? As the brand statement in my banner above states, I focus on writing "Fiction that explores the monsters and strangers among us.” I also write nonfiction on assignment from companies and individuals, especially those who want to publish or self-publish their own business books. But fiction is what I love to write because, at heart, I’m a story teller. The “monsters and strangers” bit comes from something that happens almost every time I create a story. A monster shows up or a weird person pops in who definitely fits the definition of “stranger” that your mother warned you to stay away from.

There’s an old song with the line “Love is Strange” recorded by Mickey & Sylvia. The title is especially true when the lovers in a tale include at least one strange person or monster.

I enjoy spinning yarns about lovers in the moonlight, but don’t be surprised if one of my lovers grows a long snout, sharp fangs and lots of hair when the moon is full.

So where do my strange story ideas come from? Sometimes I begin with a single sentence that pops into my mind or when I have a young man in mind who is about to meet the girl. As I wander down the page with the keys clicking like crazy, something happens in chapter 4 or 5 or 6 when a monster or stranger shows up. I dump the first 4 or 5 or 6 chapters and begin with the stranger. Why? Strangers are interesting. Lovers only so-so. I have to admit that as I have grown as an author, I'm less likely to dump an entire chapter. Instead, I  just hang out at my desk until the monster shows up so I can start the story with reader-grabbing moment.

Other times I recall a nightmare and write about it. It could be a regular, ordinary nice dream, but those usually aren’t memorable enough to make it to the keyboard.

Another place story ideas show up is when you play the “what if” game. What if a boy meets a girl at the beach and they fall in love? Nah, it’s been done. How can we make it more interesting? Boy meets girl? Well, duh, that has to happen, but what if it’s not a pleasant first meeting? What if the meeting takes place in a forbidden place?

Here’s an example…
What if a teenage boy wakes up in the middle of the night to discover the girl he has a crush on has pointed a pistol at him. It’s not the way he imagined her in his bedroom at that hour. She proceeds to insult his private parts that, as far as he can recall, she has never seen, but she insults them anyway.

The girl fires her pistol.

Fortunately, the boy’s best friend breaks in with a possible female terrorist. They’re both carrying military-style rifles with bayonets fixed. The teenage girl terrorist takes out pistol girl all the way through the bedroom window. The boy’s best friend announces “This didn’t happen.” He then leaves with the terrorist.

As it turns out, the female terrorist isn’t a fanatic at all. She’s a teenage alien shapeshifter from some planet on the other side of the galaxy who crashed on earth and is now dodging the men in black. The boy could chalk up the whole episode to a nasty dream, except that doesn’t explain the actual bullet hole above his bed, does it? And it doesn’t explain the broken window his teenage crush crashed through with a bayonet sticking out of her chest.

And that’s just for starters.

I find the events described above fascinating, especially when you find out that the young lady who fired the weapon is still alive, was never stabbed, and has no recollection of the event despite the bullet hole’s continued existence above the boy’s bed. How does the boy with the crush know all this? It becomes obvious when the girl climbs back in through the window the next night with romance in mind.

The right story idea leads to interesting events, places and the strangers among us. It’s why I like to write about them in my novels. If you want to read how the story described above turns out, download a copy of my ebook Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters from Amazon. Also available in paperback.

The Baby Boom Generation Caused Global Warming

That’s right, folks. I figured it out this morning while lollygagging in bed doing what comes natural to me until I realized that every Boomer on the planet does the same thing. Think about it. I’m not talking about the occasional blip, blat or pfft. Not at all.

Do you realize how huge the population of Boomers is? We’re the biggest population bubble ever to burst onto the scene. And here we are today in our senior moments making like Machinegun Kelly. The atmosphere never had a chance with Boomers firing their guns at once and exploding into space to cause a huge buildup of methane in the upper atmosphere.

As you well know methane is the primary cause of global warming. Just ask any cow. Yes, Boomers in our great numbers have become the cause of the worldwide warm up. The only thing safe for us to do is return to those days of yesteryear of calm, relaxing youth when nothing worried us, not even the occasional skull found in a field by the woods where we used to play Army and kill each other.

Global warming is real, folks, so you have another reason to worry about those pesky underwear changing moments or the occasional SBD. As the prophet Pogo warned in the Book of Possum, “We have met the enemy and they are us.”

What Inspires Writers?

The short answer is a lot of things can kickstart a novel project. It could be the observation of an event like a Fourth of July Parade. Hmmm, I wonder what it would be like to begin a story with a day-walking teenage vampire trombone player in the local high school band with fangs protruding around his mouthpiece?

Or it could be a person you see while riding the subway late at night and hoping you don’t get mugged. She’s not very attractive mainly because pretty girls know how to bum a ride home with a smile, but that young lady with oversized forehead, too small ears and ink covering her neck just has an air about her like I could cast her as the girlfriend in an inner-city horror romance.

Another way writers stay motivated is by reading. I enjoy all kinds of fiction both for pleasure and to learn from the best. As a fan of the films made from novels by Nicholas Sparks, I thought it was time to read one. I chose Safe Haven because I enjoyed the film almost as much as I enjoyed A Walk to Remember.

Observations Concerning Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks
1.  His main character is an avatar for his market: A 27-year old female
2.  His writing style imitates the way a woman would tell the story
     A.  Long narration
     B.  Deep dive on details
     C.  Not just the menu, but half the recipe
     D.  Not just a description of outer clothes but deep dive into undergarments and outer garments with details about pattern, color, source, pricing, etc. Why choose this garment instead of another, etc.
     E.  Deep dive into mental state and emotions
     F.  Back story/flashback used extensively as a driver for the story
     G.  Progressive reveal of the thriller story to build fear and anxiety
3.  Writes in romance genre style
     A.  Story is a romance
     B.  Story also includes a thriller that he writes in romance style – a very slowed-down approach to the thriller style.
     C.  Story is also a ghost story that is hidden until the end but hinted at and set up with foreshadowing
     D.  Use of soft hooks
     E.  Happy ending resolves all major plot points
4.  Main character fulfills female reader’s fantasies
     A.  In mortal danger – generates sympathy while building “this could be me” story
     B.  Rescued by handsome man
     C.  Has best female friend to help and guide
     D.  Has romance with man other than her husband
     E.  Starts a new life somewhere else
     F.  Must provide care for young children to bring out reader’s motherly instincts
     G.  Feels guilt and shame for her situation despite it not being her fault

Writing Prompt Results #1

Prompt: Beatrice bottomed on Alabaster Street near Main

4 Minutes Timed Writing Results

Beatrice bottomed on Alabaster Street near Main where John Bergstrum painted the front end of an Elgin-bound PACE bus with his face. Red isn’t the best bus color, but with the economy, you take what you can get. She brushed herself off, adjusted her fangs and wiggled her ears to command the lander module to drop down the access stairway. Unfortunately, she didn’t move out of the way in time and wound up in the 18th century where she had to adjust her fangs, wiggle her ears and tickle her belly button to return to time normal and that stairway to nowhere. Well, it looked like it went nowhere which made Suzy Barklotter think it was the stairway to …

What was Satan up to while God was about the business of saving the world?

What does Satan, as the most powerful demon in the universe, do to stop Jesus from saving the world when Jesus is too powerful to take on directly? As I contemplated that question, I pictured two answers that derive from the obvious fact that Satan failed.

My first vision showed scene after scene of a bungling demon trying to kill the child Jesus but something always comes up to destroy his best laid plans. Fans of Pinky and the Brain will know what I’m talking about here.

The second vision, the one that led me to write Fulfillment, was simple: Kill the mother.

Frank Peretti meets Stephen King in this tale of first century intrigue, mystery and evil beyond all imagining. Well, most imagining anyway. After all I did imagine it, didn’t I? And you will, too, when you read about how Mary lived in happy ignorance until that fateful day when she became the central figure in a drama beyond her wildest imaginings.

Angels we have heard on high
An angel announcement and a broken engagement catch an unwed pregnant teenager in a web of peril in an age when stoning was the punishment for fornication. Mary's situation attracts evil spirits, a king who would destroy any threat to his throne, the king’s unquestioning soldiers, and a would-be lover all bent on destroying Mary. Let’s also throw in a soldier who does ask questions, but asks them too late.

Mary’s journey, while steeped with betrayal and the foul stench of the ultimate demon, is a setup for an even bigger story. She discovers a lost love found, the promise of a newborn king, and a wealth of new friends from a dwarf with the heart of a warrior to the young mother whose husband and children face their own death sentence in a bloody massacre.

Moxie and connections
Fulfillment is the first century suspense drama with a huge twist of horror when Satan discovers he isn’t messing with an ordinary teenage girl. This kid has moxie and connections in high places.

If the thought of Satan out to get you isn’t enough to keep you awake at night, how about reading Fulfillment? It will. Click here to purchase the paperback or Kindle versions on Amazon.

Why Do We Even Celebrate Christmas?

Ever wonder why Christmas is so important to Christians when the real story of Christianity is the miracle of Easter morning when Jesus rose from the dead? In the world of horror stories where at least some of my novels hang out, rising from the dead is no big deal. Vampires do it every day. But in the real world, we only know of one person who pulled it off successfully.

Christmas is about the birth of the child who would grow up to become Messiah. Yes, the Easter story works better if the man rising from the dead was born in the first place, but his birth is a minor point hardly worth noting. One of the four Gospels doesn’t even mention the birth of Jesus. Another makes brief reference to it using the symbolism of poetry where we read, “The word was made flesh and lived among us.” (Say what?) While short on details, the author gets his theological point across to knowledgeable readers.

For the rest of us, Christians and nonbelievers both, it’s enough to hear about the angel visit, the virgin birth, the shepherds and the wise men.  Meanwhile pass the gravy, and are you sure we opened all the presents? Oh, and what time did you say the game starts?

What we never hear about, until recently when I published Fulfillment, is how Satan tried to stop the birth of Christ in the first place. The genesis of Fulfillment (hee, hee, hee) happened the day it occurred to me that Satan knew Christ would be way too powerful to kill. Christ is the son of God so you have to figure he’s more of a Superman type than Batman, for example. (Surely you’ve noticed the similarities between Superman’s origin story and the biblical account of Jesus’s birth? And do you really want to start comparing Batman and Satan? Don’t go there because it gets scary. There’s a reason he’s called “The Dark Knight.”)

Instead, read Fulfillment, which one critic described as “the most unique version of the Christian Nativity story ever written.”

Click here to purchase the paperback and Kindle versions. What a cool present to give to your Christian friends.