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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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.

Down by the dark and lonely river, the young girl walks

If only Trevor were here.

Someone is following me. But who? Could it be Ralph, that pesky boy who simply won't take no for an answer?

With my luck it's probably that mad serial killer out to claim another victim.

Footsteps? They're coming faster. Trevor, why did you have to break our date so early?

I must... Run!

Oh no, he's behind me. What should I do?

“Ahhhhhh!”

“Marta?”

“Oh, it's you, Trevor. What a relief. I thought – well – well – boy, am I glad to see you, but what are you doing out here by the river walk?”

“I was searching for you, Marta.”

“You were?”

“Yes, I want you.”

“You do?”

“Yes, naturally. I couldn't stand the thought of you alone out here and me somewhere else.”

“Trevor, you're so sweet. Hey, what's that thing in your hand?”

“The murder weapon. I like to use it on lonely nights like this.”

“Ahhhhh!”

THE END

For more murder mystery and thriller action, read Steel Pennies. Click here to purchase on Amazon.

Instructions for an Evening Date

Load the Rolls with oak stakes, lignum vitae bullets for your Glock and don’t forget the silver bullets for the rifles. You never know who or what you’ll run into in the city. Open the garage door after checking that the sun hasn’t set yet. Pull out of the garage carefully so you avoid hitting the mummy your neighbor made out of his murdered wife.

Follow Walnut Court to Poplar. Turn right. The city chopped down the giant willow on the corner lot so watch out for Tarzan the Zombie. He could pop out of any of the other trees or his little treetop hut that now sits in the big oak over on Chestnut where Jane, your girlfriend, feeds. Enjoy.

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.

Fearless Fall Reading

GHOSTLY YET ROMANTIC HUMOR
What makes those noises in the hidden spaces in your home after you send the kids to bed with candy-swollen bellies on Halloween night? What better time to leave a light on and read my novel Hags. As the body count rises, the police arrest Micah Probert, the ex-con who appears mighty suspicious if you ask Ahlman Brown – the man with gossamer wings hidden under his shirt. And will Micah learn the secret to clear his name and save Naperville, Illinois, from ancient hags and demons bent on destruction?

“It's like stepping into a Peretti novel, where the characters of the book are joined by the unseen characters - angels and demons.” Becky Davis in her Amazon review of Fulfillment by Paul R. Lloyd.

“Fast. Intense. No way around it. Paul is a top-notch noir writer. Top-notch.” Thomas Phillips, author of The Molech Prophecy

HAGS PREVIEW
Megan pulled at her skirt as she sat down. She wished she had worn slacks instead of her shortest outfit.

Dr. Langdon stepped behind his desk and picked up a file. He returned to the front of the desk and sat in the open seat, pulling it over so it touched Megan’s chair. He smiled while he opened the file. “Let’s talk about what we can do to bring up your math grade, Megan. I’d hate to have you not graduate with your class.”

He patted her on the hand.

Megan crossed her legs and stared at a smudge on the wall behind Dr. Langdon’s desk. She waited for what other girls said always came next.

To choose the paperback or Kindle version, click here.

Moving My Writer's Group to Wheaton

The Write Time Writers Group will move our meetings from Geneva to Vineyard Church of DuPage in Wheaton starting Thursday, October 12, 2017. Meetings run from 7:30 pm to 9 pm. I lead the group with a focus on helping members perfect their craft through workshops, writing exercises and critiques. There is no cost for membership. Established in 2004, the group meets regularly on the second and fourth Thursdays each month and welcomes writers of all ages and levels of experience from teens through seniors. Vineyard Church of DuPage is located at 1900 Manchester Rd, Wheaton, IL 60187.

Please visit my author's page on Amazon to purchase my novels and short fiction. Click here.

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.

Enter the Secret World of the Strangers and Monsters Among Us

Delve into the secret world of the monsters and strangers among us. Here are examples from my novels:

Fulfillment: Satan and his minions; Nathan, an evil-possessed killer posing as a would-be lover; and Bezalel, a Captain of the King’s Guard who would kill anyone on the king’s orders, including innocent babies.

Hags: Denise Appleby, a hag as old as the middle ages and as young and pretty as a girl of twenty; Lionel Langdon, a merciless serial killer and rapist; Ahlman Brown, a demon posing as a wealthy philanthropist; Barbara Mathers, an attractive  young lady with a deep, dark secret; and of course, Micah Probert, the new guy in town who has a past.

Steel Pennies: Yes, there are strangers among us that we don’t recognize, killers and secret evil doers. Steel Pennies will test your prejudices and deductive reasoning skills as you learn who the killer is in this mystery thriller, hopefully before someone else is murdered.

Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters: With a title like this, you know you’re in for visits from strangers and monsters. Snpgrdxz is certainly a stranger with a name like that, but does this teenage alien shape shifter stand for good or evil? Throw in Turpelator in all his out of time manifestations and you have a daemon bent on trouble. Don’t forget all the creatures who go bump in the night in this nonstop action adventure, horror, scifi, fantasy, romance – yeah, you get the idea. And is Jennifer Hawkins the most dangerous evil-doer of them all? Or is she a sweet, innocent teenager? Or both? Find out when you read the Snpgrdxz series.

Offbeat writing
My offbeat writing style combines noir with a twist of humor. Here are the opening lines to get you started:

Fulfillment: A loud roar shook the house. 

Hags: From the mattress on the floor of the back bedroom of his antique Victorian fixer-upper, Micah Probert heard a far off scream.

Steel Pennies: I gawked at the eye holes, gasped, and dropped a chunk of somebody’s skull at Bob’s feet.

Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters: From where she stood at the foot of my bed, fifteen-year-old Jennifer Hawkins couldn’t miss, but would this sweet girl shoot me?

Is this place for real?
My stories take place in real neighborhoods, perhaps one near you. The exceptions are Fulfillment which is set in the ancient world and Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters which starts in Wheaton, an ordinary suburb of Chicago but moves quickly to an underworld that can best be described as Dante’s first circle of Hell. From there the time travelers, including a teenage space alien shape shifter, end up back in Wheaton but the time is 1923 and the strangers and monsters abound at every step of the journey. Hags is set in modern day Naperville, Illinois. Steel Pennies takes place in 1960 in West Chester, Pennsylvania, which is a university town located about 30 miles west of Philadelphia.

Characters who talk the way real people talk
Dialogue brings a story to life. Here’s a sample from Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters:

By the time we escaped Lincoln High that afternoon, the sun waited for us, the trees stirred, and the ninety-plus temperature blasted our faces. I offered Jennifer Hawkins a ride home.

“I can’t, Bryan. You have to stop asking me for a date.”

“It wasn’t an invitation for a date. It’s transportation. Gilbert will ride with us. We’re safe.”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to ride in cars with boys.” Gilbert’s falsetto pierced my ears as he tossed his backpack on the backseat of my mom’s Malibu.

“Gilbert, you ride with me every day.” I opened the front passenger door for Jennifer.

“Oh, right. What about Jennifer?” Gilbert jumped in the backseat.

“I don’t mind riding in cars with boys, Gilbert. I’m not sure I’m supposed to, and I’m forbidden to date them until I’m older.” Jennifer threw her backpack into the Malibu.

“How much older?” I asked.

“Not until I’m forty.” Give Jennifer credit. She kept a straight face.

I could feel my jaw bounce once on my chest.

Jennifer noticed I wasn’t breathing. “I’m kidding, Bryan. I’m supposed to wait until I’m sixteen.”

“Oh. So that’s why you said no to me?” I fumbled with my keys and dropped them.

“It’s a reason.” Jennifer hopped in the front seat while I put my tongue back in my mouth and pushed my jaw closed. My heart resumed beating. I took in the aroma of sweet flowers that wafted into the Malibu with her.

I located my keys by crawling under the car to coat myself with hot tarmac and gravel. Back in the Chevy, I drove north on Main Street through downtown across the railroad tracks and past the coffee shop and other stores of old Wheaton. Jennifer asked me to turn right at Jefferson. A few blocks later, she said to make another right. She pointed out one of those Victorians from the Middle Ages near the college and asked me to drop her off.

I pulled over to the curb and stopped.

She unlatched the door, but didn’t open it. Instead she gazed into my eyes. “Just because I’m not allowed to date doesn’t mean I don’t like you, Bryan Ganarski.”

She leaned across the seat and planted one full on my lips. I forgot about Gilbert in the backseat while Jennifer and I made out for a few minutes. We pulled back from each other. Jennifer flashed the biggest smile ever aimed at me by a girl, giggled once, and stepped out of my mom’s Chevy.

“I never did that before.” She galloped up to her front porch and disappeared inside her house.

I about peed my pants a minute later when Gilbert said, “Guess you guys are like a couple, now.”

I had forgotten about him. But it soon turned crazier. Not as insane as the midnight visits to my bedroom, but almost. As I pulled up to Gilbert’s house, Daniel Brickmaster said, “Hey, this isn’t where I live.”

I slammed on the brakes and checked the rearview mirror. Brickmaster grinned at me. Gilbert had vanished.

Interested? Click here.

How to Take Your Dialogue to the Next Level

Yesterday, I wrote about how to enhance the dialogue you write by thinking more about how people often only half listen in a conversation. I suggested asking leading questions to force the other person to more fully participate in the conversation. Last night at my writer’s group, I gave an exercise in three parts. In part one, we wrote a monologue. In part two we revised the monologue as a dialogue with two speakers. The third part of the exercise was to revise the dialogue to indicate that the second person was only half listening. The first speaker was permitted to ask leading questions. The prompt for the exercise was: I won’t see you until…

It was a timed exercise so I skipped the quote marks and tags. Here is my result for part three.

I won’t see you until Danny comes back from that Jupiter trip –

Wait. Danny went to Jupitor?

Yeah.

What’s he doing on Jupitor?

I don’t know. Something about picking up crops or plants or trees or whatever they grow up there these days.

Oh, that reminds me. Mom picked up the coolest oak cabinets for the kitchen at ISOGS.

No, no, you’re missing the point.

What? You said trees. Naturally I assumed you meant oak. They’re the only ones that grow in outer space.

Wait. I wanted to tell you I love you.

You what? This isn’t about my mother’s kitchen, is it?

You’re spoiling the moment, darling. Don’t you feel what I feel?

Did you say you wanted to tell me something about loving me? No, that couldn’t be right? What were you saying?

I wanted to tell you I love you because, frankly, that’s the way they do it in vampire  movies, and well, I have a little confession to make.

Vampire movies? Oh, that reminds me. Did you see Dawn of Dead Blood Suckers yet?

You watch vampire movies?

Yeah, you knew that, right?

Noooo. Since when?

Last Saturday. George Nipster took me.

Wait, you went out with George?

Yeah.

I thought we were dating?

We are? Oh, I thought we were just friends.

Well, I am a vampire. We don’t do friends. Well, we do friends, but we don't have any.

I thought you were a werewolf. Danny said to watch out because you’re a real wolf.

Yes, I know you think I’m a werewolf, and I am. But then Gilrod bit me the other week, and now I have to leave for Space Station Alpha. I think I’ll always be under a full moon up there –

Hold on. You’re going to the moon?

No, Space Station Alpha.

When did you become a space junkie?

When I became a werewolf I got that free scholarship to NIU where all the animals go.

So are you a vampire or a werewolf?

So yeah, exacty. I’ll be a blood sucking werewolf in space. Or I’ll bite all their heads off and then suck their blood, but either way it won’t be pretty when Danny returns from Jupitor with that cargo ship load of wolfsbane and oak stakes.

Aren’t you allergic to that stuff?

Sure, but I can avoid the wolfsbane. All I have to do is not drink any poisoned Tang. But the oak stakes? One or two I can catch but a cargo ship loaded with them?

***

Did you download your $0.99 copy of Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters yet? Today on Amazon for your Kindle. Click here and be sure to pass the link on to your friends.

How to Get to Know Your Characters

The Write Time Writer’s Group in Geneva, Illinois, discussed ways to get to know a character in preparation for writing a novel. With Nanowrimo coming up in November, these ideas may help you prepare to write a novel in a month.

Here’s our list:

1. Give them their own goals.
2. Identify personal theme songs for each character.
3. Write a voice summary for each character. As an author, you have a voice. Your characters need their own voice to help you distinguish them from each other.
4. Interview your characters. This is one of my favorites. As my character answers a series of questions, her personality, mannerisms and speech patterns emerge.
5. Rewrite the Gettysburg Address as the character. This gets at the character’s voice and personality.
6. Diagnostic – Use DSM for mental disorders – working reference for physicians, psychologists, social workers, attorneys, etc.
7. What else is going on in your character’s life? This is the backstory that doesn’t make it into your novel, but helps you get to know the character.
8. Which Hollywood actor would play your character? Basing your character on an actor provides a built-in character description.
9. Write the story and the characters will reveal themselves. At the end of first draft, you will know your characters. Make adjustments as part of the editing.

Explore the characters in my new horror humor novel, Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters, today for less than a buck for your Amazon Kindle. It’s nonstop action, nonstop monsters and nonstop laughter when you visit the crazy world of Snpgrdxz, the teenaged alien shape shifter, and his high school buddy Bryan Ganarski. And don’t forget Jennifer Hawkins. A guy has to have someone to fall in love with even if she does shoot at you, right? Click here to learn more.

The Curse of Dracula

Grummuglefix.

That’s what I say when I’m angry like when some smart alec stakes my heart while I’m dead. But you didn’t stop by to hear me curse. I am Dracula, Count of Transylvania. My people hate me because I charge high taxes. The town councils complain.

“What do you think?” they ask. “Do you expect blood from a stone?”

But I say, “Of course not. I have you for that. I don’t take all of your blood, just a little to pay for my many services to you like keeping out barbarian invaders from the north and civilized invaders from the south. And west? Don’t even ask about the west.”

Things run great in my country. People are happy once their bite marks heal up. I only take a little bit. It’s good for them. They make new, healthy blood.

Things went bad for a while when the Communists took over, and I was no longer Count Dracula. Instead, I became Comrade Dracula, Commissar of Transylvania.

But the people hated me because I charged high taxes. Comrades from Moscow said I had to share my castle with the workers. “It’s too big for one man with only three living dead wives,” they said.

I offered the villagers the opportunity to spend their nights in Dracula’s castle. Villagers all said, “No thank you. Your castle is too far from the factory.”

So the Communists fell after only 75 years in power. That’s like a long lunch break for me. I went into exile like all good former commissars. By the way, there’s no such thing as a “good” commissar. This explains why communism failed.

I moved to England and married the daughter of an earl. We were happy until she wanted a baby. I found a teenage baby for her. She became a nice daughter for Dracula and his lovely bride.

Grummuglefix.

She found out about boys.

Maybe you have seen her at the high school dance. She’s the one with the two big teeth up front. No braces.

My wife likes our teenager but wishes for a real baby still. I explained how vampires can’t have babies. You have to be human. Instead, please enjoy our teenage daughter. See she’s having nice romances with teenage boys and werewolves.

Our daughter is a nice girl. She brings her girlfriends home for a pajama party. We serve them snacks, sodas, booze and drugs. Then we suck their blood.

Before dawn, we send our daughter’s friends home happy. Later they make their mothers and fathers happy. Unfortunately, the authorities don’t like too much happiness, especially amongst their vampire neighbors. So as the police pound stakes during the day, I move the family back home to Transylvania.

Grummuglefix.

My three old wives do not like my new family, but I tell them we are one big happy family whether they like it or not. I remind them that Count Dracula can pound a few stakes just like Englishmen.

My teenage daughter adapts quickly to Transylvania. She loves dating the local boys at night.

Meanwhile, I am no longer Commissar as I said. Instead, I am Count Dracula again except now we have democracy. I am a very democratic count. I tax everyone equally. It’s only fair. Oh wait. I am progressive democrat. I tax rich people more equally than poor people. And I support health care plan because we need a nice hospital with a big blood bank.

***

Speaking of vampires…
Did you know that my new novel, Snpgrdxz and the Time Monsters, is chock full of vampires? It’s loaded with trolls and a wide range of other strange monsters. It’s a horror story blended into a time travel journey. Snpgrdxz is pronounced as if spelled snip-grid-ix. Begin by reading the free chunk you can access by clicking on the book cover on Amazon by clicking here.