Nikki Noir's Blog, page 4

Interview with Brian Asman!

The Splatter Club's first anthology is about to drop and being one of the contributing authors, I've got a front row seat to the insanity! Please enjoy my exclusive, splattery interviews with the cast and crew of Welcome to the Club #1!

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Today we chat with Brian Asman

Nikki: What’s your most extreme or most bizarro fantasy? Feel free to follow up on why you never will never act it out in real life?

Asman: Let's just say it involves ass-less chaps, ten pounds of guacamole, the International Space Station, and a metric fuckton of nuclear weapons.

Nikki: What real-world environment is most terrifying to you? Why?

Asman: I'm deathly afraid of heights, so standing on a chair is definitely not my idea of a good time. If I do need to change a light bulb or get something off the top shelf, I usually chug a pint of whiskey beforehand and hope for the best. 

Nikki: Tell us about your story in Welcome to the Club? What inspired it?

Asman: "Sometimes the Penguin Eats You" is one of those stories where the first line popped into my head, and from there it was off to the races. Turns out, service penguins are actually a thing. Who knew? It was just one of those weird premises I wanted to play with, and then the story came together, and then somebody bought it. I still can't believe that last part. 

,Nikki: What does Splatterpunk or bizarro fiction mean to you? And is it a big part of you as an author?

Asman: I don't think too much about genre--a good story is a good story. A lot of the writers I admire tend to hop from genre to genre, or are a genre unto themselves. That's the sort of career I aspire to, the Joe Lansdale thing where I can write a literary crime novel and follow it up with a book about Conway Twitty traveling 200 years into the future to kill his great-great-great-great grandson who's a cyborg dictator who rides a dinosaur or some shit.  

Nikki: If there’s one thing you’d want readers to know about you or the mission of your work, what would it be?

Asman: When I was four or five, I appeared in a video about zoo safety, and the fear that I might have peaked at such a young age is what drives me to write novels and draw pictures of horror icons as hot dogs. 

Nikki: What’s your next project and where can we stalk you? 

Asman: I've got another comic story coming out in Tales of Horrorgasm #5 in October, a novel from Section 31 Productions later this year, and a super-secret collab with

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Love FREE Books? Splatter Deals is a new website dedicated to giving you free and discounted horror books. The best part is there service is free to authors!

,The Club is open to submissions for Welcome to the Club #2 Now!

,And

Mmmm...Cereal-ization

If you read

Fear not, all has been revealed and you can read the Black Planet series for

After talking with the publisher for my next manuscript, they explained that the style of Black Planet is more fit for a serialized novel. They will assist me in cover creations and publishing each installment in paperback and e-book editions.

Each book will resolve a major conflict, so no more insane cliffhangers like Watchers, but the overall mystery will still have its hooks in you. This will stay true to my original desire of having each book wrap more like a TV season, while still honoring readers who need a little resolution when the close a book.

There are currently four installments with more to come. The first of these is available now on

For those of you who prefer paperback, you may have to wait until Halloween. Speaking of which, to prepare for All Hallow’s Eve, take a look at my

Thanks for the support!

Love,

Nikki

Black Celebration **Updated** 6/22

You Can Read the Black Planet Series for FREE on

***

Pre-Order the final Season

Read Black Siren: A story from the Black Planet Universe

Black Celebration: **Update** 6/22

You Can Read the Black Planet Series for FREE on

Pre-Order the final Season

Read Black Siren: A story from the Black Planet Universe

What is the Occult?

,Calling all Witches, Magicians, & Occultists, I want to hear your story!

Redrum Reviews is looking to feature articles, blogs, or just fun stories about your experience and beliefs about any topics pertaining to the occult.

,Your writing can focus on:

Alchemy, Mysticism, Astrology, tarot, and Divination, Angels and Demons, Lost worlds and ancient peoples, physic powers, religion, pseudoscience and healing powers, spells and sigils, or whatever the term “occult” means to you.

Please limit your submission to no more than 2,500 words

If you’re interested, send me an email with your article/blog attached as a Word doc to nikkinoirreviews@gmail.com

This is not a paying submission. It’s a guest blog spot where you can share your personal insight and experience into the world of the occult. At the end of your article, I will link to your website or book for promotional purposes. I hope to run all the submissions during the month of September and October to help get everyone into the supernatural spirit for Halloween 2020!

Dead Inside by Chandler Morrison

I like to think I have a pretty strong stomach. I can handle a lot. I read

Before you read this review any further, allow me to loosely quote Chandler Morrison, “This is your damn trigger warning!” Read on at your own risk...

No. I actually finished Dead Inside, and guess what, I enjoyed it. I just had to skip over a few parts. Why? Well, first, let’s give an overview:

Morrison has written a creepy, over-the-top love story between two of the most socially-outcasted types of people possible. Oh, if you don’t want spoilers, you should stop now.

Our narrator, who remains nameless, is a night security guard at a hospital. He is sarcastic, has plenty of money from an inheritance, and just happens to enjoy necrophilia. Empathy is not his strong point and he’s probably a sociopath—psychopath? I forget the differences. Needless to say, the guy’s a bit cuckoo. Necrophilia aside, he cannot relate to humans on any level. He loathes the idea of being normal and the very thought of having to interact with live humans makes him ill.

On one of his night visits to the hospital’s morgue, he walks in on Helen, a maternity ward doctor, having a midnight snack. Like the narrator, Helen too has a unique taste in the taboo. She enjoys eating dead babies. Now, I should mention that I was able to handle the passages of Helen chowing down on baby meat. Don't get me wrong, it’s gross, but Morrison doesn’t describe how the babies died, they don’t scream in pain while she eats, they’re just dead. It’s like an overly gross zombie scene.

Where I did lose it however, was with the scenario which might be the most sad and disturbing thing I have come across. How is that possible when I read Lee's "The ,Dritiphilist"? Well, the whole snot/phlegm eating is just gross. Makes you gag a little--okay, gag a lot. But what happens with DEAD INSIDE is depraved….

Let’s just say that the narrator decides to play with Helen’s choice of food. You should be able to figure it out from there. Does that act ruin this book? I don’t think so. For some readers it might. There are going to be women and men out there who can’t handle it. I’m one of those women. However, I won’t discount the whole book. I immediately skipped the two parts that made me super uncomfortable, and can appreciate the tragic love story and social commentary here.

One can never know what an author intends, but perhaps the narrator is nameless so that the reader will identify more with him. It will speak to that small part of you which is an apathetic monster, who lives only for selfish pleasure. What’s more selfish than loving the dead? You get off and don’t have to do anything for the other person.

All humans have the potential to be selfish like that. But it must be miserable for people who identify more with the narrator than the rest of humanity. I’m not talking about the necro part, of course. That’s obviously a satirical exaggeration for effect.  But it’s got to be painful to feel like a total outsider. A small part of you wants and needs social interaction, but the greater part of you rejects it.

DEAD INSIDE by Chandler Morrison will either make you think or gross you out—or both! Either way, it’s totally worth a read.

My parting thought. For people who are necrophiliacs, what leads to that? Like, it could be argued that society conditions a majority of men to be attracted to younger women, through ads like Dos Equis—most interesting man in the world—and with actresses in popular movies.  

Is there something that leads to being attracted to the dead? Or something that leads to wanting to eat… ya know

Until next time, learn more about

Black Celebration: Chapter 4

First Look at my #WIP Read Chapter 3 If you haven't already Are you sure he’s really dead?” “Yes, Brian. He’s fucking dead.” Claire walked to the side of the bed and poked her grandfather’s shoulder a few times. “Hole-lee shit.” Brian moved to the other side of the bed. “I can’t believe it. He’s finally gone.” “Everyone dies.” “True.” Brian pulled out his phone and hit record. “But it felt like the day would never come.” “Yeah . . . ” Claire studied the pallid face of her grandfather. His mouth was half-opened, and stained teeth peeked out. His old-man throat waddle hung stiffly from his chin. “Strange how someone can be such a miserable shit all the time and then one day . . . they’re just nothing.” Claire leaned over the motionless body and Brian saw the faux lipstick case in her hand. “You hear that, Grandpa? You’re nothing.” Brian watched Claire through the phone screen, fixated on her fiery expression. On the screen, she slid the mini dagger out of the lipstick case. “You don’t scare me anymore.” She tapped the flat side of the blade against the dead man’s cheek, each time pressing a little harder and longer. “I was gonna show you left when I walked out on your ass. But this is better. Fuck you,” she rasped, shaking as she pressed down hard as she could. "You're dead." “Good riddance,” Brian said. The man had never liked him dating Claire, and he let Brian know it every time he saw him. Claire’s frenzy subsided and she looked up, catching Brian filming her. “You think that’s a good idea?” Claire smiled and her eyes flashed with devious intent. Brian knew she was on the same vibe as him. There was sellable content here. Brian returned a similar expression. “Granddaddy would not be happy that you’re filming this.” . Brian appreciated the sexy banter in her voice. It was why he fucking loved her. She may have been a bitch sometimes, but at other times, she was a bad bitch. “He probably hated a lot of the things we’ve filmed over the years.” Brian smirked, leaning down, level with Claire, facing the stiff old man. “But there’s nothing you can say anymore, is there? You dead dumb fuck.” “You know . . . ” Claire giggled. “No filming, but Granddad would really hate this.” She grabbed Brian by the shirt and pulled him across the corpse and to her lips. Brian gripped the wall to avoid falling onto the dead man’s face, almost dropping his phone in the process. His lips connected with Claire and they shared three kisses. “I bet there are a lot of things he’d hate us doing right now,” Brian said, laughing, his brain alive with the most vile send-off for the shitty old man. Hey, Grand Daddy, how about I film your granddaughter sucking my cock next to your dead corpse? “Too bad, I don't have my corpse pain on already." She pouted and he sighed. "Let's check what kind of ideas the Burners came up with and I can suck you off later.” Brian straightened. “You already posted it to the Burners?” “Sure did. Time is limited and I want to get as many ideas as I can and as soon as possible. We only get one chance at this.” Brian nodded understanding, but still he felt a little jealous that the Burners probably knew about the old bastard kicking the bucket before him. Claire put her mini-dagger back into the lipstick-looking sheath and came around to the other side of the bed. She took him by the hips. “Come on, baby. I posted it, but I'm waiting to read the comments with you.” “Yeah?” “Of course. Come read them with me . . . ” She pulled him out of her granddad’s bedroom and toward her own. Brian pocketed his phone and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” *** What to do with my DEAD grandpa? That was the title Claire had posted to the forum along with two pictures of the seventy-five-year old’s corpse under the bedcovers. His face had been blurred. Brian looked at the comments not bothering to ask if Claire had followed proper protocol. They’d been playing with Tor and Onion for the past year. The dark web wasn’t dangerous. It was the future of the internet. You just had to be careful. The Burners were eating it up. The post’s comments ranged from tame pranks they could pull using a corpse, all the way to the profitable act of harvesting organs. They laughed at some of the sick creativity put into the suggestions, but deep down, Brian knew they both had a curiosity to try several of them. A few profiles weighed in on how to best obtain his social security number and liquidate assets. That was already a given though. Claire and him were going to tear apart the trailer house looking for any treasures the greedy bastard was hiding. He seemed like the type of asshole who had stacks of cash hidden in shoeboxes because he didn’t trust anyone, not even a bank. “Hey.” Claire pointed at a new comment. “We were just talking about her.” DM me up. I wanna cum play, Brian read the comment in silence, then the profile name. RabbitHole69xxx. “What do you think? We talked about going hardcore . . .Getting that big paycheck. ” “We have . . . ” Brian looked at Claire, saw the smile plastered from ear to ear. “You really want to do this, huh?” “I think we have to try it. I'm fucking freaking out too, but we gotta know how we can push ourselves." Claire flashed her teeth and eyes. “If we do that, there’s no coming back though. We’re all in.” Claire looked at the posted picture of the corpse who only yesterday had been her grandfather. “I thought going all the way was kinda the point of this whole thing—” She pointed back and forth between them. “World burners. Experience seekers. This is our chance. If we don’t go all in now, then we were never serious.” DM me. I wanna cum play. *** Brain drafted up an email and then looked at her. “Okay, so you're hundred percent sure?” His hand hovered over the enter key. “Cause there is no coming back once I hit send.” Claire felted amped. She was scared as shit too, but it was still electrifying. It was the same thrilled she’d gotten when they first joined the Burner’s Forum. It surged up her spine when they spent the first few weeks being voyeurs. When the excitement of watching had dulled, Brian had suggested the PornPanda666 idea. Their amateur porn hustle to forum members had given her a sense of power she’d only dreamed of at the time. The money compounded the feeling. But that too was dulling too. The balloon scene had been fun once she got into it, but that was shit money. One fifty?! Why was she dancing for tips, when she could be making money moves? All the top cam girls and porn stars made quality, in-demand content and they made it pricey. Doing this one video, the right way, could be their ticket to easy street. Then they could leave this porn hustle and do bigger things. At least she wanted to believe that. They just had to work smarter, not harder today for a better tomorrow. “My heart hasn’t raced like this since the first time you filmed me.” Claire stared at his message to Rabbithole69. “Do it. Fucking do it.” Brian inhaled. “Here goes.” The button clicked and they both seemed to release in an exhale of breath and tension, both sinking a bit into their seats. An almost giddy laughter pouring from their mouths. After a few minutes passed and their pulses began to recede, Brian looked at her. “Now what?” “We wait.” Claire shrugged. “Got a joint?” “Ha! I do. Guess the fucker ain’t gonna mind smoking in his home anymore.” Brian dug into his camera bag and pulled out a thin joint. He lit it with a few deep puffs and passed it over to Claire. The weed was so relaxing as it seeped into her cells. They passed it back and forth in her room. It felt so good to have this kind of freedom. The computer dinged. They lunged toward the screen, Brian reading it out loud. “Let’s meet. I think we can be of great help to each other.” He looked at Claire. “Meet? No fucking way. We just asked for some ideas. Maybe a client list for a reasonable fee. This is a cop. I know it. This is how they catch people who hire hitmen. You saw Tiger King—” “You’re stoned and being paranoid.” “Paranoid? Think about the precautions we take to stay anonymous. A member can’t know if we’re a million miles apart or living down the street from them. Unless it’s a set-up—" The computer dinged. I have a confession. I think I know who you are. “No fucking way.” Brian sat down at the desk and read the message again. “Hang on.” Claire pushed in next to him on the keyboard. “Ask who she thinks we are?” “Do you really want to ask that?” “I don’t think it’s a cop.” “I don’t know…” “Quit stalling.” Claire reached out, grabbed the keyboard, and typed: Who do you think we are? Then hit Enter. They waited, and Claire became very aware of the adrenaline pumping in her ears. They had to settle this once and for all. Ding! “You and your cameraman both graduated from Shale High School” “I don’t believe it.” Now Claire was up and pacing the room. “How is this even possible?” “Who’s being paranoid now,” he said in a mocking tone. “You fucked up the firewalls?” she said. “Someone found our location because you fucked up.” “I don’t fuck things up! You’re always with me. You know how careful I am. How about you? Who was watching when you posted his dead ass in the first place?” Claire walked back over and pushed onto the keyboard again. “Maybe we should stop engaging,” Brian said. “Fuck that,” Claire said, and typed: Who are you? They sat back, adrenaline in overload. Ding! You know who I am too. People called me Psycho Barbie. We had an elective together last year. The rest you’ll get in person. “Psycho Barbie?” “I feel like I know that name.” Brian tapped the desk. “Do you have a yearbook from last year?” “Yeah right; does it look like I’d buy a book filled with people I never liked.” “Fine. I guess the question is, could this really be a cop?” “Psycho Barbie? Doesn’t sound like a cop. Let’s just call the bluff.” Claire wanted to keep acting, pushing this forward until there was a real answer. She sent: Let’s meet. Somewhere public. They both leaned forward, breath held, watching the screen. The instant message popped up: Dennys on Buffaloe street. Six am tomorrow. We’re gonna have a lot of work to do. Claire looked at Brian, the energy pumping in her veins was better than being high. “Say yes. Agree to meet.” Brian’s eyes were wide, deep thought etched into her face. “Fuck, this is all so crazy. It wasn’t part of the plan.” “You wanted one more video. This is perfect.” “The other videos are stupid kinks. This is...illegal.” Claire allowed the words to sink in before responding: “That’s what makes it so perfect. It's about pushing that limit and not letting anyone stop us." She felt flushed. "Don’t you feel that…energy?” “I feel something all right…” he said a bit absently, staring at the screen. “That’s cause we’re burners. None of this paranoid bullshit.” Confidence seeped into her voice. “Let’s own this shit.” “Fucking A,” Brian said and typed Agreed. Chapter 5 Coming Soon! Subscribe for updates Book 1: Watchers of the Black Rite Pre-Order Book 2: Black Celebration Read Black Siren: A story from the Black Planet Universe

Black Celebration: Chapter 2

Read Chapter I If you haven't already II Claire sipped on her beer as Brain booted up the computer. There was something hot about watching him work. She enjoyed being the star, and she was definitely the fucking star, but every queen needed a right-hand man. As the dual screens hummed to life, Brian swiveled his chair to look at her on the futon. “Five bucks says the first request is a graduation video.” “Great prediction,” Claire said, the beer sloshing as she clapped her hands. “It’s the end of May, grad porn is in full swing? Why don’t we bet on what they want the graduate to do?” “Hmmm.” Brian grabbed his beer off the counter and took a swig. “A fake Valedictorian speech and then shitting on a diploma.” “How high are you?” Brian shrugged and turned back to the screen, typing fast. “I am not taking a dump on camera. We already discussed this.” “I know, but I still think someone’s gonna request it.” He looked over his shoulder. “What do you think they’re gonna request.” Claire downed more beer, trying to remember all the crazy shit they’d been paid to film over the last year. “I really don’t know. I just hope it’s a big payday because—” Claire tapped her wrist even though she wasn’t wearing a watch. “Times ticking. I’m out of the trailer come June 6th. I refuse to spend a single day longer with that man. He’s—” “Don't worry. We’ll have enough money after this one to leave. I just don't know what we’re gonna do for cash once we get to Phoenix.” Brian brought up the Burners forum and the secure message board for their profile—PornPanda666 “We can always go more extreme… If you’re up to it.” Claire flashed her eyes and downed the rest of her beer. “You been talking to Rabbithole69 again?” He smiled and went back to the screen. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want to cum on Ken dolls anymore.” She grinned. “You also didn’t seem to like the puppy-play video, even though we made six hundred dollars dragging you around on a leash and—” “I said not to bring Ken or that puppy shit up anymore.” Claire chuckled and grabbed another beer from the mini fridge next to the futon. “My point is, if we want to make the big money, we go hardcore.” “Do you remember the shit she’s suggested?” “I thought we were burners?” Brian stopped typing and looked back, annoyance on his face. “Think about it, is all I'm saying. One hardcore video, and we can invest the money and do something else.” “I'll consider it. Now…” He skimmed the messages. “Graduation request...check. And…” “And?” “Ha. A fucking looner!” “A Looner?” “Balloon fetish. This one wants you masturbating but with balloons. He’s only offering one hundred.” “For a hundred bucks, I got no problem rubbing a balloon all over my pussy." Brian looked back. “It’s not like that. This guy wants a whole graduation scene with tons of balloons. Like fifty. I don't want to blow up all those balloons." "And don't want to rub a balloon all over m pussy. think of the static charge. But I will for the money." “Fine. Let me just see what other requests we got.” Brain began skimming again. “Water sports." he read on. "Hi-yo!” “I’m not a squirter. Next.” “First of all, I downloaded that tutorial. Says you can make anyone squirt with the right grip technique. Second, that’s not what I meant when I said water sports.” A sickening grin spread across Brian's face.” “I’m not pissing on camera. Next.” “Really? That’s where you draw the line? You could—” “Ken dolls. Leash. I bet LordPetBoner would love a video of you against a fire hydrant—” “Okay. Point made. Balloons it is.” Brian chewed his bottom lip. “Let’s see if we can’t offer him a way to personalize it for some extra cash. I’ll find a way to make it work.” Claire looked at her watch. “We got thirty minutes, then you need to get me home.” The realization of how fast time flew by killed her buzz. She hated having to go back there every night. “One more week, baby.” “I hope you’re right. Milk what you can out of this balloon freak. But no bathroom porn.” Claire held up her pointer finger. **** “You’re late,” Granddad said over the blaring TV. Her mouth opened, but Claire caught herself. Despite the beer and joint they’d split before she left, she was able to hold her tongue. It wasn’t worth a fight. Not when she’d be gone in less than a week. “I expect dinner by five-thirty on week days.” “I’ll have it ready on time,” she said, unsure if she was successful in keeping the venom from her tone. She headed straight to the trailer’s tiny kitchen, hoping the buzz would ease the anger once she started cooking. Sure enough, it was only five-twenty five when dinner was on the table and he shuffled his old as into the pea-green chairs he’d had since Claire was in middle school. “You having any?” the old man said between slurps of chili. Claire leaned against the cabinets and sipped from a water glass. “Not hungry.” Granddad grumbled and shoveled in two more bites while she watched a few feet away. As repulsive as he was, she couldn’t quite turn away. Each drop of chili that fell from his wrinkled lips further cemented the hate she had for him. That’s way she couldn’t walk away. The hate felt too good. “It’s almost the first,” he said. “You find a job?” “I have a job. And I’ll have the money. I always do.” “You working this job tomorrow? Or you seeing that loser again.” Claire's teeth felt like they might crack under the pressure of her tightened her jaw. She allowed her grin to stretch wider, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her frustration. “I’ll be working my job tomorrow, Ganddad,” she said in a faux chipper voice. “Mm-hm.” He finished off the last of the chili. “Well, just be quiet when you get off and come home. I’m in bed at nine.” I won’t be keeping quiet when I get off, Claire laughed inside. “I always am,” she said, pushing off the cabinet. Goodnight, Granddad. I’m heading to my room.” Read Chapter 3 Subscribe for updates Book 1: Watchers of the Black Rite
Pre-Order Book 2: Black Celebration
Read Black Siren: A story from the Black Planet Universe

Black Celebration: Chapter 3

Read Chapters I and 2 If you haven't already Chapter III “It’s times like these, when I seriously contemplate the snuff film idea….” It was Saturday night, filming night, and the graduation gown was not as soft as Claire thought it would be against her naked skin. She was surrounded by balloons that Brian had written ‘Happy Graduation’ on. He’d even managed to find old party favors in a box in his garage and taped streamers behind the bedframe. “Just stop moving for a second,” Brian said. “You’re knocking the balloons off.” He grabbed at the bright-colored orbs as they floated off the bed, suspending in the air momentarily then dropping. “They’re gonna bounce away they second I start playing with myself,” Claire said. “Just stand off camera and throw them back onto the bed. It’ll look cool with balloons constantly raining down on me.” Claire could feel the static electricity from the thin latex pulsing around the soft hairs of her body. There were at least fifty balloons spread about the bed and on the floor. She’d done a lot of silly things since they started creating personalized videos for the burner forum, but this one was extra cheesy. It was gonna be hard not to laugh. The grad gown was unzipped and parted from her torso down to her crotch. There were two balloons taped just above her nipples, and one above her vagina. The only other accessories she wore was a motarboard and black flats. And of course, her corpsepaint too. But she wore that make-up style in every video. Covering her face in the death metal makeup was originally to protect her identify, but had become her signature calling card. Fans fucking loved it. Some offered to pay her hundreds just to remove the paint. It was always tempting, but the last thing Claire wanted was for her identity to get out. Some burners didn’t care about anonymity, but Brian and Claire did. They were not consumers Brian said. They were producers. And to maintain that power balance they had to be anonymous. Always. No matter what. “You’re right,” Brian said. “That will look good. Let me just turn on the camera first.” Brian shuffled over to the tripod and the red light came on above the lens. “Shit. What was the guy’s name?” Claire asked, going over the birthday lyrics one more time. After messaging with the guy back and forth, Brian had found a few more kinks up the man’s sleeve. Milked another fifty bucks out of him to personalize the video with a song. Brian pulled a note card from his pocket. “Let’s see. He wants to be called…Teddy. Mr. Teddy.” Brian didn’t even try to conceal his smirk. “His name is Mr. Teddy,” Brian repeated. “And he wants you to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him…Then…cum at the end.” “While popping balloons.” “Yep.” Of all the requests they’d received over the last year, this one wasn’t all that odd. But each situation struck Claire differently. The looner’s request, sitting in a grad outfit, it just felt stupid. The guy who wanted a video of Claire squeezing grapes with her toes into a jar, to then mix it with her pussy juices and mail it to him was weird. The smoking videos actually made her feel pretty sexy. At the end of the day though, most people hated their jobs, and were probably all asked by bosses to do stupid and weird things. At least Brian and Claire were their own bosses. And no matter how strange a request was, they could accept or reject any request. And even though it was only one hundred fifty dollars, Claire was getting paid to cum and pop balloons. Remembering that made her feel like a boss bitch. Claire leaned back into the pillows and tried to relax. It was amazing what Brian’s room had been transformed into since last year as they’re website filming progressed. “You’re positive your mother isn’t coming home anytime soon,” she asked. “Are you kidding me? She got her check from Dad. She’ll be at Cogburns all night.” Claire shifted on the bed, getting into the role. That’s what it boiled down too. She was a character on camera. PornPanda666 was her mask, and each video made her a better actress. Her brain shifted from feeling stupid, to remembering how much power she wielded over these pathetic men who threw money at her feet. They were dumb fucking animals and she was there queen. Claire arched her back, spread her legs and looked into the camera. Her fingertips held tight to the faux lipstick case. Claire gave her signature creepy laugh, then a pouty smile beneath her corpsepaint. “Hi Teddy,” she purred, looking into the camera. “I heard it was your birthday. I want to give you a present.” Claire slowly lifted her faux lipstick case, careful not to disrupt many balloons. She slid out the small sharp dagger concealed inside and kissed at the camera “Happy birthday to you.” Pop! The blade vanquished the balloon from her left breast “Happy birthday to you.” Pop! Her right breast was now visible to the camera. Claire placed the knife down carefully on the bed and brought her hands up to her breasts. She circled her b-cups deftly with the edges of her palms, grabbing the clear tape off while still keeping the movements sensual. She licked her lips, tasted some of the face paint, but ignored it. She exhaled heavily and pinched her nipples. Slow and steady her left hand slid down her stomach and under the balloon taped to her crotch. The air-filled balloon moved to the side, allowing her to fingers to reach the folds of her pussy. “Happy birthday, Mr. Teddiieee, happy birthday to yooouu!” Pop! As the balloon over her pussy disappeared, Claire sunk her fingers into her vagina and let out a squeal. She brought her fingers up to her mouth, wet them, and begin working around her clit. “And many more on channel four.” She moaned out the numbers now fully submersed in the role. She might have thought ‘Looners’ were silly, but they were paying her for this, and a satisfied client was a repeat client. “A load of fun on channel one.” Claire’s hand sped up. With her other hand, Claire grabbed the blade again and began popping any balloons within her reach. The pops came one after another, ringing in her ears. The heat rose in her body. “And a taste of heaven on channel seven.” Faster still. More bursting rubber, and yet more balloons rained onto the bed as Brian tossed them into the air over her from off-camera. “Happy birthday—” her voice squeaked “—Toooooo….yoooouuuuu!” Claire let go of her orgasm, shuddered, and collapsed against the pillows. Balloons floating up and away from her exhausted body. “And cut!” Brian shouted. “That was fucking gold, baby!” **** “What the hell is he doing up?” Claire said, looking at the lit windows of the trailer-style home. They were in Brian's Saturn just down the street from the driveway to her Granddad's place. “He thinks you were working tonight, right?” “Yeah, just like every Saturday.” She sighed. “He’d only be up if he wants to chew me out for something. Fuck, let’s just leave now.” “Next week like we planned. We can still get in one more video.” Brian smiled and rubbed her leg. “Start packing though. I will too. Everything but the recording equipment.” “You swear we’re out by June 6th? Whether we get another video or not?” “I’d like to have as much cash as possible, but I swear,” he said. “We have enough money for what I got lined up in Phoenix. You are not gonna believe the opportunities out there.” “Anything is better than this shithole.” Claire undid her seatbelt. “We’re gonn be living in a mansion before long.” “Hope so.” She got out of Brian’s car and took her time walking up to the shitty trailer. Claire braced herself as she entered... Despite the light, Granddad was not in his recliner. The kitchen light was also on, however, the table was empty. He never left lights on for her, and he always left his dinner dishes for her to clean. Walking through the small kitchen, she noted that there was no mess at all from dinner. Like he hadn’t even eaten. A weird sensation tickled her senses. Something felt wrong. As Claire moved into the hallway, she held her breath and listened for sounds in the bathroom. Nothing. She stepped deeper into the trailer. “Granddad? I’m home.” Still nothing. She looked down the rest of the short hall to his bedroom. The door was closed, but a light shone under the crack at the floor. She crept, soft and slow, across the carpet, ears pricked for any sound. “Granddad?” she said, standing before the door. “You okay?” Not that she gave two shits about him, but she wanted to at least know where the fuck he was. She knocked on the door. It creaked open an inch but not enough to see inside. “Fuck it,” she whispered, pushing the door open. Claire gasped seeing the form on the bed. “Sorry.” She turned away and closed her eyes, mentally preparing for the verbal attack he’d unleash for waking him… Yet the trailer remained as quiet as it had when she entered. Claire cracked one eye open, then the other. She looked at the bed. Granddad wasn’t moving. At all. *** Claire didn’t text Brian right away. She lay down in her bed instead, a weird sense of grief and joy and fear and freedom washing over her in varying waves. Laughter and tears. She was going to be rid of Granddad in a week anyway—when Brian and her finally left Shale—but it was nicer to know he was dead. There was something much more satisfying in that, than knowing he was going be left alive and alone, forced to make his own damn dinner, no one to verbally abuse. No, this was even better than that to her. Then thoughts of doubt rolled in, pushing the joy of his demise away. There was a dead fucking body in the next room. What they hell was she gonna do? Would the police show up? Would they question her even though she hadn’t done a dam thing— Ask the Burners what to do That’s when a deliciously wicked idea came to her. Somehow, Brian and her could work this into a video. Somehow, this could be the moment they took 'burning' to the next level. Claire grabbed her cell phone and headed back to the corpse for some pictures. “Say cheese, Granddad.” ***** Brain parked the beat-up Saturn back in his mom’s driveway. Her Honda was still gone and he was glad he could get drunk and pass out before she returned. He turned off the car just as Claire’s text message and pictures came in. “Holy shit,” he said to the empty car. Her message: Get your ass over here now. Grand dad is dead. Chapter 4 Coming Soon! Subscribe for updates Book 1: Watchers of the Black Rite Pre-Order Book 2: Black Celebration Read Black Siren: A story from the Black Planet Universe

Those Who Go Forth into the Empty Place of Gods - Book Review

Those Who Go Forth into the Empty Place of Gods by Curtis M. Lawson and Doug Rinaldi is not a Kabbalistic book. Nor is it an ancient Egyptian text like Spells for Going Forth by Day (not sure why I equate this to the Book of the Dead title…maybe it’s the ‘Forth’ or length lol). T.W.G.F.I.T.E.P.O.G. (for short) is a humorous and bloody take on cosmic horror. Brewster Gilligan is brilliant. He’s also a cocky asshole with no friends. T.W.G.F.I.T.E.P.O.G. opens with Brewster on a gameshow called Stump the Brain, hosted by Wick Nightingale. After competing better than anyone in the history of the game, Brewster is finally stumped by a question about physicist Maxwell Xanthopoulos. With the clock ticking on live TV, he reaches back into his brain for some kind of answer, eventually settling with: “The answer is The Order of the Nine Lunar Mansions.” Not only is Brewster’s answer wrong, but with those words, he triggers a diabolical, cosmic plan that has been in the works for ages. The words are a secret that was planted in his head by a dark magician, who also happens to be Brewster’s grandfather Cameron. Now that the words have been spoken, Cameron has been resurrected from his deathless slumber. In response, the nine guardians of the lunar mansions are also summoned. Both parties are on a mission to find Brewster and…kill him, recruit him? Now the curmudgeon Brewster is caught in the middle and as the supernatural beings battle each other, Brewster is going to have to choose a side. Lawson and Rinaldi do a great job creating the sarcastic humor of the reluctant Brewster. And there are plenty of blood and guts moments for you gore whores to revel in. Bodies exploding constantly. On another note, I am fascinated by co-authored books and how two voices can come together as one seamless flow. I’m involved in two co-written books myself at the moment, and I always wonder if other co-authors are doing it similar to us—or if I’m way off the mark, lol. The only time I noticed a break in the flow of T.W.G.F.I.T.E.P.O.G. was toward the climax of the story. The pace sped up, which is good for a climax ;) but some of the plot became a bit abstract. I really enjoy dark occult books, magic rituals, and metaphysics, but I’m not sure if my feeling of being a bit confused at the end is due to the authors or maybe just me not knowing, or not being able to wrap my head around, what cosmic horror truly is. I never read Lovecraft, but I assume T.W.G.F.I.T.E.P.O.G. has a similar feel based on what I hear about Lovecraftian mythos. I don’t want to give too much away, but the villain wants to birth the creator god into this world so he can kill it and assimilate its knowledge. How can you kill a creator god though? It’s the creator. It’s everything that is, was or ever will be. Then again, I’ve never transversed the dimensions of the lunar spheres, so maybe it’s totally possible. Either way, I think you will have a fun time with Those Who Go Forth into the Empty Place of Gods. I give it 4 out of 5 stars. And fun fact, if you phonetically chant the acronym TWG-FIT-EPOG nine times into a scrying mirror, you will summon a demigod. Don’t believe me? Try it…or just check out the book here Also, be sure to check out Curtis M. Lawson's guest blog about school shootings and the inspiration for his Stoker-nominated novel Black Heart's Choir here