Naughty Netherworld Press's Blog: Naughty Netherworld Press on Goodreads, page 75
February 9, 2021
Tidbit Tuesday: Galaxy Girl: Sorrow
Free Use Image by Gordon Johnson on PixabayFinding Something Forgotten Sorrow
Pepper Baiij did not mind her job at Trinity Gardens Retirement Community. Most of the time, the nights were uneventful. She walked the hallways of the vast building and put notices on the bulletin boards. She performed a variety of clerical tasks. Sometimes a resident called her, often for a minor problem such as replacing a dying smoke alarm battery or opening a medication bottle. There were occasions when a resident didn’t make it to the toilet in time, and sometimes there were genuine emergencies.
Pepper tended to have a fair amount of downtime, and she liked it that way. She knew that her family was disappointed in her for having a job with so little status, but the job had a decent salary and perks beyond insurance benefits. One of Pepper’s favorite perks was access to the wellness center with its therapy pool.
Since Pepper worked nights, there was rarely anyone else in the wellness center when she arrived. She could play her CDs and work out in the warm water of the pool, dreaming about the stories she was writing or envisioning the exciting life that she’d never have.
Tonight, Pepper’s chosen CD was Red Zone Terminal by Mainline, one of her longtime favorite bands. She had once kept a close watch on all things Mainline, but over the years her attention became focused on the struggles of daily life, and, recently, on the resurgence of her dreamland drama with troubled actor Kris Rooiakker who had more than once promised her the moon and delivered an emotional black hole.
Pepper showered and dressed in scrubs for her shift. Kris kept invading her thoughts, but she decided to ignore him. When she finished her first set of rounds, which were, fortunately, uneventful, she decided to see what Mainline was up to these days. It had been a while since she’d checked on her old favorite band. Perhaps they had a new album coming out. Perhaps she’d finally take her now-grown children to see them.
Pepper’s search led to a picture of Mainline’s founder, Gerry Clifford. She was astounded by his appearance. At sixty-two years old, she didn’t expect him to look like the sweet-faced young man barely out of his teens whose picture she’d first seen back in the 1970s, but Gerry had aged drastically. He looked like a man in his eighties.
Delving deeper, Pepper discovered the reason for Gerry’s startling alteration. She wanted to cry, but the tears seemed to stick in her throat. She felt as if she might vomit. With trembling fingers, she dialed her son Quetzalcoatl’s number. Quetz tended to keep late hours, and if he were asleep, he wouldn’t notice the phone.
Quetzalcoatl was up playing video games and answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Ma, what’s up?” he asked.
AcknowledgmentsSorrow is a song written by David Gilmour and performed by Pink Floyd. It appears on the band’s 1987 album “A Momentary Lapse of Reason.”
Prompts Used
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie
Tale Weaver
Reedsy Prompts
Submitted to https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/on 9 February 2021 for the Start your story with a major news event breaking — one that will change the world forever prompt. This chapter was also inspired by the Write about an elderly character who was part of a historic movement years ago and Write about a child witnessing a major historical event prompt.
Background Soundtrack
Get More!About the Story
This is a segment from my WIP, Galaxy Girl, which is part of the Yadira Chronicles and Tales from the Dreamlands series. You can read the full chapter on LBRY for 15 LBC (approximately $0.45).
https://lbry.tv/@naughtynetherworldpress:d/Finding-Something-Forgotten:8
You can read the full chapter on Reedsy free of charge. Chapters usually come out a few days after submission.
https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/author/cara-h/
If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider picking up a copy of Ketil and Yitzy's Adventures in the Xura Dream House.
The book is free from Kindle Unlimited, or you can purchase it for $3.99 https://bit.ly/KetilandYitzyAz
Buy the PDF version from LBRY for 75 LBC (approximately $2.25)
https://bit.ly/KetilandYitzyLBRY
LBRY is a decentralized content marketplace. I price the PDF versions of my work at approximately half of the Kindle price because I receive the entire amount rather than a royalty percentage.
You can get a free LBRY account through this link. You can earn LBC for viewing content on LBRY as well as from selling your content.
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The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press.
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Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
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February 7, 2021
The Stable Boy's Roughneck Ride Chapter 1 #MFRWSteam #MFRWHooks #MFRWAuthor
Genre
M/M erotica, sci-fi
The Blurb
When Pingucury raiders attack their rig, hunky roughneck clone foreman Iker and his equally buff pal Peregrine are forced to flee. The friends encounter Ohannes, a sweet and submissive pleasure clone who offers them shelter.
The Snippet
Peregrine Cenric Varga knew trouble was coming when he heard the deafening roar of multiple motors and saw the dust cloud obscuring the setting suns on the horizon. The muscular 55-year-old roughneck clone turned to his foreman, 59-year-old Iker Mehmûd Macauley, who was looking through his binoculars at the approaching Pingucury raiders.
“Any chance for defense?” Peregrine inquired.
“Negative,” Iker replied, shaking his head. “We need to scatter to the four winds and hope that the military was prepared for this. I would have protested assignment to Igrobos had I known that we would be facing constant attacks from the Pingucury. I’m a simple Hangiri clone rigger, not a fucking career soldier or military clone.”
Iker gave his crew the signal to abandon the Hangiri rig, and the men hurried to their hover-chops, putting as much distance between them and the raiders as possible. The Pingucury were infamous for their brutality to captives.
Sometimes the raiders’ only goal was to steal the raw Gaccov brought to the surface by the Hangiri rig, but this lot also had bloodshed as their goal judging by their impassioned pursuit of the departing roughnecks.
“Scatter!” Iker ordered his team. “Try to keep them away from the settlements. Where the hell are the damn Xawei? They need to do their jobs and protect our people!”
“Drunk or fucking horny Gaccov execs with a uniform fetish, I imagine,” Peregrine mused. “Let’s make for that abandoned homestead to the North. Maybe there are old animal blankets or some hay in that stable to hide the chops under.”
“I hope that there’s a reasonably comfortable and well-hidden cellar to camp in until the threat has passed,” Iker mused. “Preferably one with rations and booze.”
The men cut the lights on their hover-chops and set the engines to coast. They cruised over the dry fields to the stable, where they parked the vehicles and covered them with old blankets and hay. They focused their attention on finding a hiding place.
“Ike, we ain’t alone,” Peregrine whispered. “There’s someone up in the loft.”
“Shit! Well, we’d better bring ‘em with us before they have a chance to get themselves and us captured by the Pingucury. That’s the last fucking thing I need is a scared civvy to babysit. Anyways, I hope that it’s a civvy and not a nest of Pingucury.”
Iker climbed the ladder to the loft with Peregrine close behind. The men drew their plasma pistols, setting them to stun.
“Come on out, we ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Iker called quietly. “But we all need to find a better place to hide and quick. The Pingucury are closing in, and they don’t care much about the Uturn Convention rules for treatment of prisoners.”
Where to BuyAmazon99 centshttp://bit.ly/CH1AZLBRY15 LBC (approximately $0.45)http://bit.ly/ClonedHeat1
LBRY is a decentralized content marketplace. I price the PDF versions of my work at approximately half of the Kindle price because I receive the entire amount rather than a royalty percentage. You can get a free LBRY account through this link. You can earn LBC for viewing content on LBRY as well as from selling your content.
https://bit.ly/LBRYCard
https://mfrwsteam.blogspot.com/
http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com/The Stable Boy's Roughneck Ride Chapter 1 #MFRWSteam #MFRWHooks
Genre
M/M erotica, sci-fi
The Blurb
When Pingucury raiders attack their rig, hunky roughneck clone foreman Iker and his equally buff pal Peregrine are forced to flee. The friends encounter Ohannes, a sweet and submissive pleasure clone who offers them shelter.
The Snippet
Peregrine Cenric Varga knew trouble was coming when he heard the deafening roar of multiple motors and saw the dust cloud obscuring the setting suns on the horizon. The muscular 55-year-old roughneck clone turned to his foreman, 59-year-old Iker Mehmûd Macauley, who was looking through his binoculars at the approaching Pingucury raiders.
“Any chance for defense?” Peregrine inquired.
“Negative,” Iker replied, shaking his head. “We need to scatter to the four winds and hope that the military was prepared for this. I would have protested assignment to Igrobos had I known that we would be facing constant attacks from the Pingucury. I’m a simple Hangiri clone rigger, not a fucking career soldier or military clone.”
Iker gave his crew the signal to abandon the Hangiri rig, and the men hurried to their hover-chops, putting as much distance between them and the raiders as possible. The Pingucury were infamous for their brutality to captives.
Sometimes the raiders’ only goal was to steal the raw Gaccov brought to the surface by the Hangiri rig, but this lot also had bloodshed as their goal judging by their impassioned pursuit of the departing roughnecks.
“Scatter!” Iker ordered his team. “Try to keep them away from the settlements. Where the hell are the damn Xawei? They need to do their jobs and protect our people!”
“Drunk or fucking horny Gaccov execs with a uniform fetish, I imagine,” Peregrine mused. “Let’s make for that abandoned homestead to the North. Maybe there are old animal blankets or some hay in that stable to hide the chops under.”
“I hope that there’s a reasonably comfortable and well-hidden cellar to camp in until the threat has passed,” Iker mused. “Preferably one with rations and booze.”
The men cut the lights on their hover-chops and set the engines to coast. They cruised over the dry fields to the stable, where they parked the vehicles and covered them with old blankets and hay. They focused their attention on finding a hiding place.
“Ike, we ain’t alone,” Peregrine whispered. “There’s someone up in the loft.”
“Shit! Well, we’d better bring ‘em with us before they have a chance to get themselves and us captured by the Pingucury. That’s the last fucking thing I need is a scared civvy to babysit. Anyways, I hope that it’s a civvy and not a nest of Pingucury.”
Iker climbed the ladder to the loft with Peregrine close behind. The men drew their plasma pistols, setting them to stun.
“Come on out, we ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Iker called quietly. “But we all need to find a better place to hide and quick. The Pingucury are closing in, and they don’t care much about the Uturn Convention rules for treatment of prisoners.”
Where to BuyAmazon99 centshttp://bit.ly/CH1AZLBRY15 LBC (approximately $0.45)http://bit.ly/ClonedHeat1
LBRY is a decentralized content marketplace. I price the PDF versions of my work at approximately half of the Kindle price because I receive the entire amount rather than a royalty percentage. You can get a free LBRY account through this link. You can earn LBC for viewing content on LBRY as well as from selling your content.
https://bit.ly/LBRYCard
https://mfrwsteam.blogspot.com/
http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com/The Stable Boy's Roughneck Ride Chapter 1 #MFRWSteam
Genre
M/M erotica, sci-fi
The Blurb
When Pingucury raiders attack their rig, hunky roughneck clone foreman Iker and his equally buff pal Peregrine are forced to flee. The friends encounter Ohannes, a sweet and submissive pleasure clone who offers them shelter.
The Snippet
Peregrine Cenric Varga knew trouble was coming when he heard the deafening roar of multiple motors and saw the dust cloud obscuring the setting suns on the horizon. The muscular 55-year-old roughneck clone turned to his foreman, 59-year-old Iker Mehmûd Macauley, who was looking through his binoculars at the approaching Pingucury raiders.
“Any chance for defense?” Peregrine inquired.
“Negative,” Iker replied, shaking his head. “We need to scatter to the four winds and hope that the military was prepared for this. I would have protested assignment to Igrobos had I known that we would be facing constant attacks from the Pingucury. I’m a simple Hangiri clone rigger, not a fucking career soldier or military clone.”
Iker gave his crew the signal to abandon the Hangiri rig, and the men hurried to their hover-chops, putting as much distance between them and the raiders as possible. The Pingucury were infamous for their brutality to captives.
Sometimes the raiders’ only goal was to steal the raw Gaccov brought to the surface by the Hangiri rig, but this lot also had bloodshed as their goal judging by their impassioned pursuit of the departing roughnecks.
“Scatter!” Iker ordered his team. “Try to keep them away from the settlements. Where the hell are the damn Xawei? They need to do their jobs and protect our people!”
“Drunk or fucking horny Gaccov execs with a uniform fetish, I imagine,” Peregrine mused. “Let’s make for that abandoned homestead to the North. Maybe there are old animal blankets or some hay in that stable to hide the chops under.”
“I hope that there’s a reasonably comfortable and well-hidden cellar to camp in until the threat has passed,” Iker mused. “Preferably one with rations and booze.”
The men cut the lights on their hover-chops and set the engines to coast. They cruised over the dry fields to the stable, where they parked the vehicles and covered them with old blankets and hay. They focused their attention on finding a hiding place.
“Ike, we ain’t alone,” Peregrine whispered. “There’s someone up in the loft.”
“Shit! Well, we’d better bring ‘em with us before they have a chance to get themselves and us captured by the Pingucury. That’s the last fucking thing I need is a scared civvy to babysit. Anyways, I hope that it’s a civvy and not a nest of Pingucury.”
Iker climbed the ladder to the loft with Peregrine close behind. The men drew their plasma pistols, setting them to stun.
“Come on out, we ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Iker called quietly. “But we all need to find a better place to hide and quick. The Pingucury are closing in, and they don’t care much about the Uturn Convention rules for treatment of prisoners.”
Where to BuyAmazon99 centshttp://bit.ly/CH1AZLBRY15 LBC (approximately $0.45)http://bit.ly/ClonedHeat1
LBRY is a decentralized content marketplace. I price the PDF versions of my work at approximately half of the Kindle price because I receive the entire amount rather than a royalty percentage. You can get a free LBRY account through this link. You can earn LBC for viewing content on LBRY as well as from selling your content.
https://bit.ly/LBRYCard
https://mfrwsteam.blogspot.com/February 4, 2021
First Look Friday: The Quest for the Wizard's Key: Haunted #8Sunday #MFRWHooks #SnipSun
Image by Szymon BaranowskiLet's Go To The Hop
http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com/
http://www.facebook.com/groups/SnippetSunday
http://wewriwa.blogspot.com/Note: This week I am taking a detour from sharing The Stable Boy's Roughneck Ride to share a piece from the final chapter of my newly finished WIP, The Key of Eidolon, which I have renamed The Quest for the Wizard’s Key since Eidolon is never mentioned in the story, but the Yaddithian wizard Zkauba makes several appearances.
Now comes the fun of editing and formatting...oh, joy.
I don't have a blurb for this book yet. I'll share the 10-sentence snippet first and then a longer bit for your reading pleasure/displeasure/what have you. I would suggest that if you don't like the first 10 sentences, reading further is not your best course of action.
And now, the first ten!Haunted An Unspoken Language
Gerry Clifford sat on his bed at Candlelight Ridge Care Center trying to make sense of his thoughts. He had attempted to write them down in one of his increasingly rarer moments of clarity, but the results of that were a puzzle.
“At the recent Grimster’s Convention, it was agreed that lanmiters would no longer be allowed.”
Before his brother Paul, sister-in-law Sophia, son Daniel, daughter Amber, and son-in-law Vance had gone home for the night, he’d asked them to see what they could make of the odd sentence. The tall, cadaverous, black-haired bloke and his big Sumo wrestler mate who worked at night came in to take a crack at it as well.
There were pictures of Gerry’s loved ones and frequent caregivers on a bulletin board near his bed with their names under their photos. Sometimes he could read the names and sometimes he couldn’t. Sometimes he butchered the pronunciation of the names only to have a loved one gently correct him as they would a child just learning to read. This frustrated Gerry. He had dropped out of school at fifteen, but he knew perfectly well how to read and write and had always prided himself on his innovative nature.
Did you like that crap? Then read on!“A-C-E,” Gerry spelled out the name under the skinny bloke’s picture. “Ash. No, Ace. ‘Is name is Ace. Lad looks like a Frank, though, like from that Rocky Picture movie. Frankie Furter. Sez ‘ere that Ace is a night nurse. Well, that makes sense, don’t it, since he’s always around ‘ere at night.”
Gerry turned his attention to the picture of the big fellow.
“T-O-M,” he read. “Toom. Tomb. Well, that’s a dreadful name. C’mon, Gerry, ‘is name ain’t Tomb, ya ninny, it’s Tom. I always call him something else, though. It’s another bloke from the Rocky Picture Movie. Freddie, innit? Nah, that ain’t quite right. It’s Eddie. ‘E looks like Meat Loaf Man from the Rocky Picture Movie. The note says ‘e’s with security.”
Gerry turned his attention back to the sentence he’d written. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on being what Gerry really was and not a symptom of his corrosive brain.
“Brain ain’t corrosive,” Gerry murmured. “The disease what’s eating it is corrosive. Ain’t gonna sit ‘ere and quibble with meself about syntax. That’s just a ruse ter throw me off the scent of danger. I’ve gotta use all me questionable detection skills ter work out what’s goin’ on in this place. I’ve gotta consider every possibility, no matter ‘ow crazy it might sound.”
Gerry smacked the heel of his hand against his temple as if to shake the thoughts free. Frustrated, he began slamming both hands into his forehead.
“Blast this useless feckin’ rotting sponge in me dome!” he snarled.
“Oi, Gerry!”
Misshapen RealitiesA pair of hands firmly grasped Gerry’s forearms to stop him from hitting himself. Gerry opened his eyes to see the black-haired nurse and his big friend looking at him with concern. When Gerry ceased his aggressive battle with his broken brain, the nurse released his arms, smiled at him, and patted his shoulder. He sat on the bed beside Gerry while the big fellow pulled up a chair.
“No sense in beatin’ yourself up, Mate,” Ace advised. “So, what’s goin’ on here, Ger? What has you in such a whirl of ambidextrous pugilism against yer forehead?”
“Well, you ain’t no use if yer gonna talk like that,” Gerry admonished.
Thomas smirked and Ace shot him a withering glare.
“Got ya dead ter rights there, Mate,” Thomas chuckled.
“Zip it, or I ain’t givin’ you none of me deviled ham,” Ace warned.
“Oi, I like deviled ham,” Gerry declared.
“Well, then, we ought to have some. Tom, go grab the tin of ham and loaf of bread from me bag. So, what’s goin’ on here, Gerry?”
“Well, I was just tryin’ ter make sense of this higgledy-piggledy hodge-modge I wrote earlier,” Gerry explained. “I know I wrote it, ‘cause that’s me writing. I remember you lads being in ‘ere when I asked about it, or at least I think I do. It’s so ‘ard ter tell sometimes what really ‘appened and what I just imagined. These bloody misshapen realities in me head are quite enough to drive me stark raving barmy.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you fer feelin’ that way. It would starch my shorts too. If it helps, me and Tom were in here earlier and you did show us that sentence.”
“So that bit was real realities.”
“Yeah, definitely real realities.”
Thomas entered the room carrying a tin of deviled ham, a loaf of bread, and a spreading knife. He portioned out the deviled ham and bread for Gerry, Ace, and himself.
“Tom, you remember the sentence that Gerry showed us earlier?” Ace inquired. “Do you remember what you said to him?”
“Yeah. I said it looked like a couple of them words were from an alien language.”
“Well, that’s what I was tryin’ ter think about,” Gerry stated. “See, I suppose it don’t matter if I sound crazy, ‘cause I ain’t goin’ home for me wife to cuckold me no more in this life. You lads don’t wanna hear about that soap show, though. The thing is, ever since me brain decided ter fuck off ter shite, I’ve started remembering things about this other place. It looks like a city from the future, like on one of them space programs like Star Tracks or such, but see, I know it’s from the feckin’ dark past. Them weird words, Lads, they’re from that life.”
Want the rest of the chapter?
Get it on LBRY!
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https://lbry.tv/@naughtynetherworldpress:d/The-Key-of-Eidolon--Haunted:2
AcknowledgmentsThe Rocky Horror Picture Show is a 1975 musical horror/comedy film written by Jim Sharman and Richard O’Brien, based on O’Brien’s 1973 stage production of the same name.
Prompts Used
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie
Photo Challenge
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/02/02/photo-challenge-352/
Sunday Writing Prompt
Tale Weaver
Wordle
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/02/01/wordle-225/
Lure
Ruse
Danger
Detection
Dry
Corrosive
Blast
Crazy
Cuckold
Snarl
Ambidextrous
Basement
October Spooky Writing Challenge: Haunted
Putting my Feet in the Dirt
http://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com
About the Story
This is the final chapter from my WIP, The Key of Eidolon, which is the second book in the Tales from the Dreamlands series. If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider picking up a copy of Ketil and Yitzy's Adventures in the Xura Dream House.
Buy the Kindle version of Ketil and Yitzy's Adventure in the Xura Dream House for $3.99 https://bit.ly/KetilandYitzyAz
The book is free from Kindle Unlimited.
Buy the PDF version from LBRY for 75 LBC (approximately $2.25)
https://bit.ly/KetilandYitzyLBRY
LBRY is a decentralized content marketplace. I price the PDF versions of my work at approximately half of the Kindle price because I receive the entire amount rather than a royalty percentage.
You can get a free LBRY account through this link. You can earn LBC for viewing content on LBRY as well as from selling your content.
I'm on a mission with no permission. You can support me on LBRY.
For weird and wonderful stories Netherworld style, slide on over to the official Naughty Netherworld Press channel.
For a unique poetic experience, take a break in LBRY's finest poetry tearoom.
Most of my work is free. A tip as small as 5 LBC (approximately $0.15) really helps, and it all goes to me.
For more information about getting the best from Naughty Netherworld Press, follow this link:
The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press.
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.
Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
The Key of Eidolon: Haunted #8Sunday #MFRWHooks #SnipSun
Image by Szymon BaranowLet's Go To The Hop
http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com/
http://www.facebook.com/groups/SnippetSunday
http://wewriwa.blogspot.com/Note: This week I am taking a detour from sharing The Stable Boy's Roughneck Ride to share a piece from the final chapter of my newly finished WIP, The Key of Eidolon. Now comes the fun of editing and formatting...oh, joy.
I don't have a blurb for this book yet. I'll share the 10-sentence snippet first and then a longer bit for your reading pleasure/displeasure/what have you. I would suggest that if you don't like the first 10 sentences, reading further is not your best course of action.
And now, the first ten!Haunted An Unspoken Language
Gerry Clifford sat on his bed at Candlelight Ridge Care Center trying to make sense of his thoughts. He had attempted to write them down in one of his increasingly rarer moments of clarity, but the results of that were a puzzle.
“At the recent Grimster’s Convention, it was agreed that lanmiters would no longer be allowed.”
Before his brother Paul, sister-in-law Sophia, son Daniel, daughter Amber, and son-in-law Vance had gone home for the night, he’d asked them to see what they could make of the odd sentence. The tall, cadaverous, black-haired bloke and his big Sumo wrestler mate who worked at night came in to take a crack at it as well.
There were pictures of Gerry’s loved ones and frequent caregivers on a bulletin board near his bed with their names under their photos. Sometimes he could read the names and sometimes he couldn’t. Sometimes he butchered the pronunciation of the names only to have a loved one gently correct him as they would a child just learning to read. This frustrated Gerry. He had dropped out of school at fifteen, but he knew perfectly well how to read and write and had always prided himself on his innovative nature.
Did you like that crap? Then read on!There were pictures of Gerry’s loved ones and frequent caregivers on a bulletin board near his bed with their names under their photos. Sometimes he could read the names and sometimes he couldn’t. Sometimes he butchered the pronunciation of the names only to have a loved one gently correct him as they would a child just learning to read. This frustrated Gerry. He had dropped out of school at fifteen, but he knew perfectly well how to read and write and had always prided himself on his innovative nature.
“A-C-E,” Gerry spelled out the name under the skinny bloke’s picture. “Ash. No, Ace. ‘Is name is Ace. Lad looks like a Frank, though, like from that Rocky Picture movie. Frankie Furter. Sez ‘ere that Ace is a night nurse. Well, that makes sense, don’t it, since he’s always around ‘ere at night.”
Gerry turned his attention to the picture of the big fellow.
“T-O-M,” he read. “Toom. Tomb. Well, that’s a dreadful name. C’mon, Gerry, ‘is name ain’t Tomb, ya ninny, it’s Tom. I always call him something else, though. It’s another bloke from the Rocky Picture Movie. Freddie, innit? Nah, that ain’t quite right. It’s Eddie. ‘E looks like Meat Loaf Man from the Rocky Picture Movie. The note says ‘e’s with security.”
Gerry turned his attention back to the sentence he’d written. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on being what Gerry really was and not a symptom of his corrosive brain.
“Brain ain’t corrosive,” Gerry murmured. “The disease what’s eating it is corrosive. Ain’t gonna sit ‘ere and quibble with meself about syntax. That’s just a ruse ter throw me off the scent of danger. I’ve gotta use all me questionable detection skills ter work out what’s goin’ on in this place. I’ve gotta consider every possibility, no matter ‘ow crazy it might sound.”
Gerry smacked the heel of his hand against his temple as if to shake the thoughts free. Frustrated, he began slamming both hands into his forehead.
“Blast this useless feckin’ rotting sponge in me dome!” he snarled.
“Oi, Gerry!”
Misshapen RealitiesA pair of hands firmly grasped Gerry’s forearms to stop him from hitting himself. Gerry opened his eyes to see the black-haired nurse and his big friend looking at him with concern. When Gerry ceased his aggressive battle with his broken brain, the nurse released his arms, smiled at him, and patted his shoulder. He sat on the bed beside Gerry while the big fellow pulled up a chair.
“No sense in beatin’ yourself up, Mate,” Ace advised. “So, what’s goin’ on here, Ger? What has you in such a whirl of ambidextrous pugilism against yer forehead?”
“Well, you ain’t no use if yer gonna talk like that,” Gerry admonished.
Thomas smirked and Ace shot him a withering glare.
“Got ya dead ter rights there, Mate,” Thomas chuckled.
“Zip it, or I ain’t givin’ you none of me deviled ham,” Ace warned.
“Oi, I like deviled ham,” Gerry declared.
“Well, then, we ought to have some. Tom, go grab the tin of ham and loaf of bread from me bag. So, what’s goin’ on here, Gerry?”
“Well, I was just tryin’ ter make sense of this higgledy-piggledy hodge-modge I wrote earlier,” Gerry explained. “I know I wrote it, ‘cause that’s me writing. I remember you lads being in ‘ere when I asked about it, or at least I think I do. It’s so ‘ard ter tell sometimes what really ‘appened and what I just imagined. These bloody misshapen realities in me head are quite enough to drive me stark raving barmy.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you fer feelin’ that way. It would starch my shorts too. If it helps, me and Tom were in here earlier and you did show us that sentence.”
“So that bit was real realities.”
“Yeah, definitely real realities.”
Thomas entered the room carrying a tin of deviled ham, a loaf of bread, and a spreading knife. He portioned out the deviled ham and bread for Gerry, Ace, and himself.
“Tom, you remember the sentence that Gerry showed us earlier?” Ace inquired. “Do you remember what you said to him?”
“Yeah. I said it looked like a couple of them words were from an alien language.”
“Well, that’s what I was tryin’ ter think about,” Gerry stated. “See, I suppose it don’t matter if I sound crazy, ‘cause I ain’t goin’ home for me wife to cuckold me no more in this life. You lads don’t wanna hear about that soap show, though. The thing is, ever since me brain decided ter fuck off ter shite, I’ve started remembering things about this other place. It looks like a city from the future, like on one of them space programs like Star Tracks or such, but see, I know it’s from the feckin’ dark past. Them weird words, Lads, they’re from that life.”
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AcknowledgmentsThe Rocky Horror Picture Show is a 1975 musical horror/comedy film written by Jim Sharman and Richard O’Brien, based on O’Brien’s 1973 stage production of the same name.
“All of our Yesterdays” is an original Star Trek episode. The past life civilization being recalled in this chapter was inspired by the original Star Trek episode “The Lights of Zetar,” which was written by Jeremy Tarcher and Shari Lewis.
I’ll follow you down till the sound of my voice will haunt you” is a line from the 1976 song Silver Springs, written by Stevie Nicks and performed by Fleetwood Mac.
Janai'ngo is the creation of Crispin Burnham and E.P. Berglund, appearing in their 1974 story “The Thing in the Library.”
The Winchester brothers (Sam and Dean) are the primary characters in the television program Supernatural, which ran from 2005 to 2020. The “Wincester brothers” line is a cheeky nod to fans who ship Wincest, the romantic pairing of Sam and Dean Winchester.
Prompts Used
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie
Photo Challenge
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/02/02/photo-challenge-352/
Sunday Writing Prompt
Tale Weaver
Wordle
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/02/01/wordle-225/
Lure
Ruse
Danger
Detection
Dry
Corrosive
Blast
Crazy
Cuckold
Snarl
Ambidextrous
Basement
October Spooky Writing Challenge: Haunted
Putting my Feet in the Dirt
http://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com
About the Story
This is the final chapter from my WIP, The Key of Eidolon, which is the second book in the Tales from the Dreamlands series. If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider picking up a copy of Ketil and Yitzy's Adventures in the Xura Dream House.
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February 3, 2021
Hope. Dreams. Life... Love: My Love Affair With Books
I was a precocious reader too. I learned to read at four years old. By the time I was six, I was reading Edgar Allan Poe, no joke! Probably explains a few things about what a weird mess I am.
Insecure Writers Support Group 3 February 2021
February 3 question - Blogging is often more than just sharing stories. It’s often the start of special friendships and relationships. Have you made any friends through the blogosphere?A few. I'm not an easy person to get to know in real life, and that translates to cyber life as well. I'm not a social butterfly by any means. I live with depression and anxiety and I tend to get defensive. I don't think that people like me very much or think that it's worth breaking through the prickly barrier to find the gooey center.
I think that I present as a dullard, and, really, I wouldn't think I was worth getting to know. I know, I've heard it ad nauseam. "How can you expect anyone to like you if you don't like yourself?"
The thing is, I don't like myself, but throughout my life, I've noticed certain very interesting and self-destructive people who don't like themselves, but I like them. Why would I dislike someone because life has broken them? Seems like a dick move to me.
I would disagree that I'm a dullard. I'm actually quite interesting, but, there again, there's that thing about not wanting to open up and get hurt.
So, I thank the few who have dared. I think you're nuts, but I'm glad of it.
~Cie~
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January 30, 2021
A Hiding Place #MFRW Hooks #8Sunday #SnipSun #RainbowSnippets
Genre
M/M erotica, sci-fi
The Blurb
When Pingucury raiders attack their rig, hunky roughneck clone foreman Iker and his equally buff pal Peregrine are forced to flee. The friends encounter Ohannes, a sweet and submissive pleasure clone who offers them shelter.
The Snippet
“I hope that there’s a reasonably comfortable and well-hidden cellar to camp in until the threat has passed,” Iker mused. “Preferably one with rations and booze.”
The men cut the lights on their hover-chops and set the engines to coast. They cruised over the dry fields to the stable, where they parked the vehicles and covered them with old blankets and hay. They focused their attention on finding a hiding place.
“Ike, we ain’t alone,” Peregrine whispered. “There’s someone up in the loft.”
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http://wewriwa.blogspot.comJanuary 28, 2021
Readers Roost: Clarissa Book Promo and Giveaway
A magical middle-grade fantasy about a young girl and an oak tree.
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