Eric Arvin's Blog, page 17
July 18, 2012
EXCERPT: She's Come Undone
'She's Come Undone' is a short of mine that has amassed a nice little following. I have gotten messages from mothers of children with disabilities and messages from those seen as outsiders, and damn, it feels good to hear from them. Available through Amazon or Untreed Reads.
Excerpt:
Julie had come close to the edge a few times. Like a ship, a person can tell when they’re sinking. Their eyes go askew. There were two times in particular she often thought about. One was, of course, the incident in the classroom; the one that cost her her career. That was painful. But the other was much worse because it was still fresh and new.
She was giving Betty a bath. It was late in the evening. Julie always sang to Betty when she was bathing her. This seemed to soothe the child’s worries, though it would never take them away. Betty had a sharp mind even if her body was dulled and broken. The water was warm and Julie always liked these moments of serenity with her daughter. They felt right in place. Betty had lovely porcelain skin, and fine silk hair. A homecoming queen for certain.
There was a crash from the living room. The sound jolted Julie and Betty from their calm. Betty’s eyes flew up to meet her mother’s in fright and concern. Julie hushed her, and sat her securely up against the side of the bathtub. The rubber mat would keep her from slipping down into the water.
Julie ran to the living room. The window had been smashed to pieces again. On the couch, where it had landed noiselessly, was a bully’s cliché in the form of a brick. Julie approached it slowly, as if it were a grenade, and read the scrawled note attached:
“Chicken Legs Bitch!”
She let the brick fall from her hand back onto the couch and walked slowly, legs and lip trembling, back to Betty in the bathroom. She wanted to scream, to cry, to talk. Anything, or at least something. She imagined throwing a fit. Hitting the walls and breaking portraits. Cussing until her voice gave out.
She stood at the door of the bathroom, to the side and out of the light so that Betty would not see her, and waited there. Perhaps if she waited long enough there would be some give in the bath mat or Betty would assert her independence and try to clean herself. Julie wondered what noises a paralyzed person made as they drowned. Would Betty’s muscles, by some miracle, awaken and flail for air? Or would she merely sink in silent terror?
Paralysis was true loneliness. Merciful gods do not exist in that state.
It was only a second. The thoughts were too dark for Julie to dwell on them for very long. But she had thought them, and they would be the most piercing images she had ever imagined in her life. Greater and more profound than any fiction ever read or taught.
She composed herself, wiped her face, and walked back into the bathroom with a smile.
“It was nothing, Sweetie,” she said in response to Betty’s questioning eyes. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
The check Gerald had just given her fluttered as a breeze passed her hand. Chicken Legs Bitch, she thought. I am a chicken. A big mother hen. But can’t I change? Is it so late that I can’t change? Maybe I could be a wolf. Maybe I could have a growl as deep and ferocious as any.
Julie remembered she had been in class teaching when Gerald came in to tell her (his whisper voice was non-existent) that Betty had become a biter. There was a smattering of snickers from Julie’s students. Gerald gave them a stare, which silenced them immediately.
As Julie walked back to her home with the check in her hand, she couldn’t help but think on how embarrassed she had been all her life. By everything. Nothing ever changed. She was to ridicule like white on rice. But, as always, she would smile through it. Her smile, as frail and uncomfortable an expression as ever existed, somehow held up the world. One of these days it would break, though. Like it had that once when…
July 15, 2012
Me: The Story of a Fall
Okay, here goes. I have been asked by readers about the full extent of my condition, how it happened, etc. It’s a painful thing to address and recall, but I realize it’s also good for me to talk about it. Plus, while it bores me, people seem fascinated with my story. (You'd be surprised how many new readers I get after I talk about my ordeal; if I'm stuck with this disease, then I'm gonna exploit the hell out of it).
Cavernous himangiomas of the kind I have are classified as a “rare disease.” Of the percentage of people who have angiomas of the brain (which is a small percentile) only 1% of this group have them on the brain stem like me. READ: I am super special. Unbeknownst to me, I grew up with something that resembles a raspberry on my medulla. When I was in Australia and discovered I had this condition the doctor at the Prince of Wales hospital told me to just let it shrink. He was a great neurologist, the best in Sydney apparently, but I was the first case of cavernous himangioma he had come across in his long career, so I can’t blame him for not knowing exactly what route to take. We were both in the dark.
About me: Before all the problems began I was a very active guy. I’d never spent day one in the hospital, and was never on my butt inactive for more than an hour (those hours being courses). I loved to travel and experience other cultures and meet new people. (I need to have someone with me when I fly now, because it’s just too much for my vertigo.) I was also an amateur bodybuilder, all natural. That was a mistake...I should have juiced up till I was as big as a house. What? WHAT?? Don't look at me like that.
In the winter of 2003 I was tackled by an intoxicated (some might say, closeted) acquaintance at a party and fell backward, hitting my head on the corner of a brick wall. It was only a few weeks later, when I was in grad school in Australia, that I noticed significant weakness in my right side, nausea and a strange disorientation and imbalance. I was unNERVED to say the least. Get it? Un-NERVED...Hehe.
At Prince of Wales I had a CT scan and was told I had cavernous himangiomas. (By the way, when I went to pay for said scan I was told it was going to be expensive and I was then handed a bill for...are you ready for this? ...$250. I nearly wet myself in excitement! 250 for something that in the States would cost thousands.) My father, a brother and a sister also had/have this condition. My father passed away from a stroke in 1993 around the time himangiomas were just being differentiated from MS. (There is still not a great deal of study on the condition.) I knew I was susceptible to it, but, perhaps in denial, I wanted to think my deficits were from the fall I had. A brain bruise or something that would clear. (One of the many doctors here in the States told me just that; another said my imbalance was caused by an inner ear infection and put me on antibiotics. Morons.)
My brother and sister have their angiomas elsewhere in their brains. These used to cause them seizures, but are now under control with meds. I have never had a seizure and have never taken any medication for the himangiomas.
I flew back to the States and got better through physical therapy, though I never seemed to fully recover. The imbalance and weakness were ever present, and the symptoms varied in magnitude from day to day. I had another serious brain bleed over the next couple of years and had even more therapy. Finally, in August of 2005 I found I was having a hard time breathing, walking, jerkin' it, or doing much of anything. I was moved out of my apartment and back to my childhood home. In a matter of two weeks I had gone from getting around on my own to having to use a wheel chair with very little use of my arms and legs. My doctors at the Mayfield Clinic in Cincinnati, Ohio told me it was either immediate surgery or death. I told them I'd get back to them. Two days later I had brain surgery. They resected 90% of the himangioma that was strangling my medulla like Joan Crawford on Christina, leaving the remaining 10% only because when they touched it my legs moved a little. They didn’t feel comfortable with taking that bit out. There was a tiny hole placed in the surrounding region so that when it did bleed again (which it has) the blood wouldl escape into the rest of my body and not cause any huge problems. I have 4 other himangiomas in other areas of my brain, but I am told they are calcified and pose no danger. Pussies.
My recovery was much quicker than anyone expected. I went into a rehab hospital in New Albany, Indiana but they were doing nothing for me. (Seriously. I was out of bed at the most half an hour a day.) So, in three weeks I checked myself out; a week after that I was walking; a month after that I was back in the gym. When I went for my checkup two months post-surgery the doctors were astonished at my recovery, having told me at the outset I would most likely be in a wheelchair for up to six months. I felt like quite the superstar in the office. Every time I would get ready to leave with my mom (I still don’t drive, another casualty of this experience), the doctors would bring someone else in to see my recovery.
I have been such a huge fan of fitness since I was a teenager, I’m sure that had something to do with the speed of my recovery. Still, I am told that it can take up to ten years for a complete recovery from surgery. Then again, I might never recover completely. There go my dreams of opening the first all male nekkid dance show in Macchu Piccu.
The surgery kept me alive, but it has not helped the deficits that the himangiomas caused. I’ve tried everything: reiki, acupuncture, cranio sacral therapy, and while they definitely have their merits, none has really helped me physiologically speaking. But I will continue to search. I'm like Indiana Jones that way. Just like him. I even have a whip...
But the experience has taught me a great deal as well. I am in a much better place emotionally and spiritually than I was when I was healthy. I have also accomplished quite a bit and found direction. Before “the fall” I had no real idea what I was doing with my life, and though I had always known I was a decent writer, I kept putting my novel-writing off for a later date. If the accident hadn’t happened I don’t know if I’d ever had done a thing about it. Now, I have a small but very loyal fan base who ADORE me. ADORE me!! And who can blame them, really? I am pretty adorable. I also think I’m more focused on the positive than ever before, and much closer to my family. Strange how that happened.
And as far as my symptoms go - the vertigo and weakness - well, they make for good character traits when I'm writing. And the want, the desire to be well again, that's something I would have never known if I hadn't had that fall. With it came empathy and compassion and one hell of a good sense of humor.
Cavernous himangiomas of the kind I have are classified as a “rare disease.” Of the percentage of people who have angiomas of the brain (which is a small percentile) only 1% of this group have them on the brain stem like me. READ: I am super special. Unbeknownst to me, I grew up with something that resembles a raspberry on my medulla. When I was in Australia and discovered I had this condition the doctor at the Prince of Wales hospital told me to just let it shrink. He was a great neurologist, the best in Sydney apparently, but I was the first case of cavernous himangioma he had come across in his long career, so I can’t blame him for not knowing exactly what route to take. We were both in the dark.
About me: Before all the problems began I was a very active guy. I’d never spent day one in the hospital, and was never on my butt inactive for more than an hour (those hours being courses). I loved to travel and experience other cultures and meet new people. (I need to have someone with me when I fly now, because it’s just too much for my vertigo.) I was also an amateur bodybuilder, all natural. That was a mistake...I should have juiced up till I was as big as a house. What? WHAT?? Don't look at me like that.
In the winter of 2003 I was tackled by an intoxicated (some might say, closeted) acquaintance at a party and fell backward, hitting my head on the corner of a brick wall. It was only a few weeks later, when I was in grad school in Australia, that I noticed significant weakness in my right side, nausea and a strange disorientation and imbalance. I was unNERVED to say the least. Get it? Un-NERVED...Hehe.
At Prince of Wales I had a CT scan and was told I had cavernous himangiomas. (By the way, when I went to pay for said scan I was told it was going to be expensive and I was then handed a bill for...are you ready for this? ...$250. I nearly wet myself in excitement! 250 for something that in the States would cost thousands.) My father, a brother and a sister also had/have this condition. My father passed away from a stroke in 1993 around the time himangiomas were just being differentiated from MS. (There is still not a great deal of study on the condition.) I knew I was susceptible to it, but, perhaps in denial, I wanted to think my deficits were from the fall I had. A brain bruise or something that would clear. (One of the many doctors here in the States told me just that; another said my imbalance was caused by an inner ear infection and put me on antibiotics. Morons.)
My brother and sister have their angiomas elsewhere in their brains. These used to cause them seizures, but are now under control with meds. I have never had a seizure and have never taken any medication for the himangiomas.
I flew back to the States and got better through physical therapy, though I never seemed to fully recover. The imbalance and weakness were ever present, and the symptoms varied in magnitude from day to day. I had another serious brain bleed over the next couple of years and had even more therapy. Finally, in August of 2005 I found I was having a hard time breathing, walking, jerkin' it, or doing much of anything. I was moved out of my apartment and back to my childhood home. In a matter of two weeks I had gone from getting around on my own to having to use a wheel chair with very little use of my arms and legs. My doctors at the Mayfield Clinic in Cincinnati, Ohio told me it was either immediate surgery or death. I told them I'd get back to them. Two days later I had brain surgery. They resected 90% of the himangioma that was strangling my medulla like Joan Crawford on Christina, leaving the remaining 10% only because when they touched it my legs moved a little. They didn’t feel comfortable with taking that bit out. There was a tiny hole placed in the surrounding region so that when it did bleed again (which it has) the blood wouldl escape into the rest of my body and not cause any huge problems. I have 4 other himangiomas in other areas of my brain, but I am told they are calcified and pose no danger. Pussies.
My recovery was much quicker than anyone expected. I went into a rehab hospital in New Albany, Indiana but they were doing nothing for me. (Seriously. I was out of bed at the most half an hour a day.) So, in three weeks I checked myself out; a week after that I was walking; a month after that I was back in the gym. When I went for my checkup two months post-surgery the doctors were astonished at my recovery, having told me at the outset I would most likely be in a wheelchair for up to six months. I felt like quite the superstar in the office. Every time I would get ready to leave with my mom (I still don’t drive, another casualty of this experience), the doctors would bring someone else in to see my recovery.
I have been such a huge fan of fitness since I was a teenager, I’m sure that had something to do with the speed of my recovery. Still, I am told that it can take up to ten years for a complete recovery from surgery. Then again, I might never recover completely. There go my dreams of opening the first all male nekkid dance show in Macchu Piccu.
The surgery kept me alive, but it has not helped the deficits that the himangiomas caused. I’ve tried everything: reiki, acupuncture, cranio sacral therapy, and while they definitely have their merits, none has really helped me physiologically speaking. But I will continue to search. I'm like Indiana Jones that way. Just like him. I even have a whip...
But the experience has taught me a great deal as well. I am in a much better place emotionally and spiritually than I was when I was healthy. I have also accomplished quite a bit and found direction. Before “the fall” I had no real idea what I was doing with my life, and though I had always known I was a decent writer, I kept putting my novel-writing off for a later date. If the accident hadn’t happened I don’t know if I’d ever had done a thing about it. Now, I have a small but very loyal fan base who ADORE me. ADORE me!! And who can blame them, really? I am pretty adorable. I also think I’m more focused on the positive than ever before, and much closer to my family. Strange how that happened.
And as far as my symptoms go - the vertigo and weakness - well, they make for good character traits when I'm writing. And the want, the desire to be well again, that's something I would have never known if I hadn't had that fall. With it came empathy and compassion and one hell of a good sense of humor.
July 11, 2012
SuburbaNights Released Today! (Excerpt)
ON SALE NOW!! Remember, too, Dreamspinner Press is offering a great deal:
This is a big deal! From midnight July 11th - that's THIS Wednesday - until midnight July 15th Dreamspinner Press has one hell of a great deal going on in promotion of my newest addition to the Jasper Lane series, SuburbaNights . Order SuburbaNights from the Dreamspinner site and get SubSurdity (Book 1) for free, AND get Suburbilicious (Book 2) for 25% off. It's for those five days only, so if you want it you got to be ON THE BALL!!
EXCERPT
The Chapter With the Magic Christians
“OH, THAT Terrence! I could just wring his neck!”
Melinda Gold paced furiously back and forth on the deck, her hands clenched tight, as Cassie Bloom listened. It was just the pair of them this afternoon at Cassie’s magnificent home. It was late October, but a warm, glowing day. Both women were dressed casually and comfortably. Cassie had a pair of white-framed sunglasses perched atop her short golden hair. Melinda wore a trendy blue cashmere top.
“Leave it to Terrence to ruin everything! It had all been so perfect until he showed up. The park was lovely, so quiet and peaceful. Things might have even become romantic if given the chance. My date—you remember Mr. Lintrope?—he and I were sitting by the duck pond in a nice secluded spot away from the jogging paths. The flowers and trees and birds decorated the scene for us. And of course, the meal I made last night for our date today was triumphant, if I do say so.”
“Mr. Lintrope?” Cassie interrupted. “The librarian?”
Melinda stopped pacing long enough to give Cassie a warning stare. “Yes, the librarian! There’s nothing wrong with librarians. They’re somewhat respectable, anyway. I think he would have brought some stability back into my life. Not that I’ll ever know now. But he would have been good for me. Sure, there were some of his quirks that I didn’t care for. We’d definitely need to work on the nose hair issue, but….”
She shook her head, regaining control of her narrative. She pinned a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I made my barbecue chicken. Everyone loves my barbecue chicken. You remember how well it went over at the Fourth of July party. Mr. Lintrope was just about to take a bite when….”
“Terrence.”
“Terrence!” Melinda screamed. “He comes tearing out of the bushes like some carefree heathen, just ripping his clothes off. Just ripping them off and throwing them hither and dither. He didn’t even see us. I nearly went epileptic. Mr. Lintrope looked at me and asked, ‘Isn’t that your friend?’ I hadn’t the time or the ability to respond, Cassie. Terrence was stark raving naked and playing around in the pond like a three-year-old in bathwater, all giggling and singing. Why does he always have to sing? It’s like he’s a member of that damn Sound of Music family. I’d hate to meet the rest of his family, I’ll tell you that!” She crossed her arms and tightened her jaw. “It was only then that he saw Mr. Lintrope and me.”
“Darling, Mr. Lintrope can’t hold you accountable for a friend’s quirks.” Cassie was enjoying this. She was so wrapped up in the story her afternoon cocktail had hardly been sipped from.
“That’s not the end of it. Oh, no. The story continues, Cassie. Oh, does it ever!” Melinda pulled out a chair from the table and sat down with a huff. “Terrence’s frolicking and giggling and singing had been so loud it brought the attention of a group of joggers who were on a nearby path. And who do you think those joggers were, Cassie?”
“I have no idea. This is exciting.”
“None other than Coach… Nipple and his star wrestlers.”
Cassie cackled, clapping her knee. “Imagine that!”
“They thought Terrence was drowning and were coming to his rescue. I can’t blame them. He definitely sounded like a creature in peril. Well, when he saw them and realized what they were thinking, he played right into it. The worm! The wrestlers jumped into the pond, stripping as they dove, and all three of them grabbed hold of our flailing Terrence. When they got him to land, he fainted. He actually fainted… or he pretended to faint so he could be revived. Then he re-fainted two more times. All three wrestlers had to give him mouth-to-mouth. And they were all nearly naked, Cassie! Naked!”
Cassie could say nothing. She could barely sit up straight.
“Well, I’m glad someone sees humor in the situation. The coach looked at me, finally taking notice I was there, and gave me a grin. Like the kind he used to give me after we had… you know. Mr. Lintrope saw that grin. Any handsome man would be intimidated by the coach’s presence. He commands attention. How do you think an average man like Mr. Lintrope felt? After Terrence was dressed and I was left alone again with my date, I asked Mr. Lintrope if we could try this another time, and he said, rather unconvincingly, ‘Sure. I’ll give you a call.’ Can you believe it?” Melinda clenched her fists again. “That Terrence!”
“Indeed. What a treasure,” Cassie said. “And he seems to get on your bad side more than anybody I’ve known.”
Melinda sat back in her chair, as if she was relieved to have told her story and now exhausted.
Cassie reached across the table for her cell phone. Melinda, of course, knew what was coming.
“You can’t even wait a few minutes?” Melinda asked.
“Vera,” Cassie said into the phone, “get over here now. Melinda has just been through an ordeal with that dull-as-bones Mr. Lintrope, and it’s hilarious.”
July 8, 2012
Big Deal on Jasper Lane!
This is a big deal! From midnight July 11th - that's THIS Wednesday - until midnight July 15th Dreamspinner Press has one hell of a great deal going on in promotion of my newest addition to the Jasper Lane series, SuburbaNights . Order SuburbaNights from the Dreamspinner site and get SubSurdity (Book 1) for free, AND get Suburbilicious (Book 2) for 25% off. It's for those five days only, so if you want it you got to be ON THE BALL!!
July 4, 2012
2012: A Writer's To Do List
So, I thought I might give you a quick bullet list of the work I have had published, will have published, or am working on this year. In all honesty, this list is more for me than you. I'm very list oriented.
1. Galley Proof, from Dreamspinner Press. My comedy/memoir-lite novel about a writer named Logan Brandish and his search for love, an editor, and himself. I've received some bitter criticisms for this book, but it's one of my personal favorites.
2. "She's Come Undone", from Untreed Reads. A short story about a former school teacher on the edge - she's looked at as a town joke and gets very little help raising her handicapped daughter - and how she finally throws down.
3. "Miss Locks", from Untreed Reads. A horror short about a woman who finds herself standing outside her home, but cannot remember how she got there. When she goes back inside, however, something terrible awaits. This is actually based on a...feeling I had when I was very sick a couple of years ago.
4. "Roids, Rumps, & Revenge", from Seventh Window. Maybe the last erotic story I'll ever write...and it's filthy! About a cocky football coach at a small college and his plan to keep his players winning. Cover by Absolutbleu.
5. SuburbaNights , from Dreamspinner Press. To be released on July 11th, the third book in my Jasper Lane series might be the strangest. This contains one of my most favoritest Jasper Lane scenes ever. And Nanna Hench is back causing trouble.
6. Simple Men translations, from Dreamspinner Press. I've learned that the Spanish and Italian versions are soon to be released. The German version is being worked on. I still can't believe I'm going global!
7. Galley Proof translations, from Dreamspinner Press. The Italian version is ready, and the Spanish version is being translated.
8. Woke Up in a Strange Place audio book, from Dreamspinner Press. My friend Charlie David (Dante's Cove, Ugly Betty) - who did the audio book for Simple Men - is in the midst of recording this afterlife fantasy (and Gaybie award-winner).
9. Bubbles n Gordy , from Class Comics. My erotic comic with artist Absolutbleu and another writer (who shall be named later) about two dumb-as-blocks, hot-as-hell college muscle studs who fight evil on the campus of Pro State University. This is still being worked on, so I'm thinking it won't be out until 2013.
10. Three manuscripts I have with publishers: The Mingled Destinies of Crocodiles & Men (spec fic); The Rest Is Illusion (for possible reprint); and The Rascal (horror).
11. What am I writing now? Thanks for asking! I'm writing a multi-layered speculative fiction piece that seems to want to go on and on. New characters keep coming in quite unexpectedly. The title: Terms We Have For Dreaming.
1. Galley Proof, from Dreamspinner Press. My comedy/memoir-lite novel about a writer named Logan Brandish and his search for love, an editor, and himself. I've received some bitter criticisms for this book, but it's one of my personal favorites.
2. "She's Come Undone", from Untreed Reads. A short story about a former school teacher on the edge - she's looked at as a town joke and gets very little help raising her handicapped daughter - and how she finally throws down.
3. "Miss Locks", from Untreed Reads. A horror short about a woman who finds herself standing outside her home, but cannot remember how she got there. When she goes back inside, however, something terrible awaits. This is actually based on a...feeling I had when I was very sick a couple of years ago.
4. "Roids, Rumps, & Revenge", from Seventh Window. Maybe the last erotic story I'll ever write...and it's filthy! About a cocky football coach at a small college and his plan to keep his players winning. Cover by Absolutbleu.
5. SuburbaNights , from Dreamspinner Press. To be released on July 11th, the third book in my Jasper Lane series might be the strangest. This contains one of my most favoritest Jasper Lane scenes ever. And Nanna Hench is back causing trouble.
6. Simple Men translations, from Dreamspinner Press. I've learned that the Spanish and Italian versions are soon to be released. The German version is being worked on. I still can't believe I'm going global!
7. Galley Proof translations, from Dreamspinner Press. The Italian version is ready, and the Spanish version is being translated.
8. Woke Up in a Strange Place audio book, from Dreamspinner Press. My friend Charlie David (Dante's Cove, Ugly Betty) - who did the audio book for Simple Men - is in the midst of recording this afterlife fantasy (and Gaybie award-winner).
9. Bubbles n Gordy , from Class Comics. My erotic comic with artist Absolutbleu and another writer (who shall be named later) about two dumb-as-blocks, hot-as-hell college muscle studs who fight evil on the campus of Pro State University. This is still being worked on, so I'm thinking it won't be out until 2013.
10. Three manuscripts I have with publishers: The Mingled Destinies of Crocodiles & Men (spec fic); The Rest Is Illusion (for possible reprint); and The Rascal (horror).
11. What am I writing now? Thanks for asking! I'm writing a multi-layered speculative fiction piece that seems to want to go on and on. New characters keep coming in quite unexpectedly. The title: Terms We Have For Dreaming.
June 29, 2012
New Erotic Short: 'Roids, Rumps, & Revenge' (Excerpt)
While you are all anxiously waiting for the release of SuburbaNights on July 11th - wait for word on a special deal on that one! - here's a new erotic short I wrote for Seventh Window. It's extremely filthy, and possibly even a bit controversial, but it's a lot of fun. Look at that awesome cover by my pal, Absolutbleu! You can get it HERE on July 2, or Amazon, All Romance, B&N, etc. Also, don't forget my horror short "Miss Locks" from Untreed Reads (HERE). Look at me! I'm a Renaissance man! Here be an excerpt:
Excerpt:It was the damndest thing I ever saw, what got our coach put up in the hospital on the eve of what was supposed to be Pro State University’s greatest football victory ever. I was there to witness that game, and I was also there the night before to see how its outcome came to pass, trapped in the coach’s office and peaking out the window into the locker room. If I hadn’t a seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. No sir.
Coach Mauler is the best football coach in the state. Ain’t no question about that. And he’s got the respect of all his players, including me. I will admit to having been a little put out with him at the time the events in this story took place. But that’s nothing new. He’s an easy man to get irritated with. A dick and something of a hypocrite. Still, I’m dang proud to be on the team. We’ve gone on to win the division championship three of the past four years. There’s no other school in the state that can claim so many victories.
Now, I ain’t a big guy, and I ain’t necessarily the best on the team either. When I look around at some of my teammates I feel downright tiny. I watch ‘em in the shower sometimes. Just to size them up, you know.
Chazz is the biggest of the group, with a dick to match. When he showers his cock swings from leg to leg like he’s a damn grandfather clock. His big dick head smacks each of his huge thighs like it’s angry with ‘em. There always seems to be a stream of pre-cum dribbling from the thing as well. Like it’s full and ready to burst. He’s got a girlfriend, but he’s never stuck that thing in her. Having heard the rumors of Chazz’z monster cock size, her own daddy took Chazz aside one day and told him there would be no sex else Chazz would lose his balls. But, dammit, anyone could tell that dick was just waiting to get inside of something. It looked plain pissed off.
Then there’s Jay, the quarterback. His dick can’t compare with Chazz’s in size, but it sure makes up for that in personality. He’s got the largest dickhead I’ve ever seen. It’s totally disproportionate to the rest of his cock. Kinda like a fleshy cork. Jay’s got a sweet ass on him too. I don’t mind saying that either. When he bends over to wash his feet I can see between his bubbled cheeks and there be a puckering hole. And let me tell you, it is wide open and ready for business. Shoot. If Jay’s ass is virgin then I’m Burt Reynolds.
Being in the weight room with these guys is difficult for anyone with a self-confidence issue like me. We got a set of twins on the team, Evan and Lucas. Nice guys with those bodies you see in sexy magazine ads. All abs and ass. There’s so much testosterone coursing through them while they workout that their dicks are as hard as poles. And God bless ‘em for not wearing underwear. Sometimes, when one of ‘em is on the bench press, I want to go over there and knock that dick around a bit, like it’s a weeble-wobble. I don’t think they’d mind. Those guys are always yanking on each other in play in the shower. Seriously. You walk in while the two of them are getting soaped up and it’s like a game of elephant. Twins have a special connection, you see.
June 26, 2012
Shannon Yarbrough: Writer of Note
Shannon Yarbrough is a fellow writer who is gaining a nice following. Just read below what the critics are saying about his writing. Plus, he's a damn nice fella! The book itself sounds damn interesting. Like a good holiday read.
Are You Sitting Down? By Shannon YarbroughShanLian WordLit PressCopyright © 2011Paperback ISBN: 0984238336270 Pages
About The Book:
A rape victim raising a biracial baby. A drug addict haunted by a dead girlfriend. A homosexual mourning a dead lover. A teacher having an affair with his student. And a businesswoman sexually harassed by her boss. What do they all have in common? They all sit at Lorraine White's holiday dinner table; they are also her children.
But Lorraine's children are not the only ones in the family dealing with ghosts of the past. This is the first Christmas the Whites have spent together since the death of their father. And it very well could be their last, as arguments ensue, secrets are revealed, and perhaps a murderer walks among them.
In his latest novel, Shannon Yarbrough explores the damaged soul of one small town family and breaks through the boundaries of love, convincing his readers that no matter how hard life gets, sometimes the support of family is often the only true foundation we have left to depend upon - whether we want it or not.
What Reviewers Are Saying?Yarbrough's best book yet-a well-crafted blend of interesting characters, a wistful small-town setting and a tense family dynamic that serves up discomfort food for Christmas. --Jerry L. Wheeler, author & book critic - outinprint.net
Yarbrough weaves the lives of a band of disparate characters into a rich tapestry complete with death, secrets, and murder, tied up with a Christmas bow. --LK Gardner-Griffie, author of the Misfit McCabe series
From the moment that I started to read, I felt comfortable and that I had entered a family—with all of its ups and downs (and downs and downs and downs) that was still a family. (Think the Walkers on “Brothers and Sisters”). Love is not always evident but somehow I felt it was there from the very first page.--Amos Lassen, book and film critic
The ties that keep families together ... and the secrets that threaten to tear them apart ... are blended skillfully as if a tapestry, by a talented author who never disappoints.--Bob Lind, Echo Magazine
"Are You Sitting Down?" deals with themes of forgiveness, reconciliation, and a journey to wholeness, but Yarbrough's writing makes clear that death is always just around the corner and that despite the hope of family togetherness, each of us is stumbling through life alone dealing with our past and our secrets.--Gabriella West, author of Time of Grace and The Leaving
About the Author:
Shannon Yarbrough is the author of two previous books, The Other Side of What, first published in 2003, and Stealing Wishes, first published in 2008. He lives in St. Louis, Missouri with his partner of 9 years and their five pets. He is currently at work on another novel. Visit him online at www.shannonyarbrough.com, friend him on Facebook, or follow him on Twitter @slyarbrough.
What the Author is Saying About His Book:
While I wrote Are You Sitting Down? to expel a few demons of my own, I really wanted to break down the walls that family secrets sometime build up between loved ones. I tried to push each of my characters as far as I could take them.
While the book and its multiple storylines are filled with tragedy, I still wanted the reader to come away with a positive outlook on the White family’s life and maybe even on their own. More than one reader has commented with “And I thought my life was F’ed up!”
I purposely did this by using the metaphorical themes presented by the two families – the Whites and the Blacks. Though their surnames are the most obvious, I also used their lives to represent good and bad, light and dark, happiness and sadness, and so on.
Each chapter is told from a different character’s voice to give it a real multilayered family drama feel, just like a soap opera. It is my intention that I hope readers will purposely relate to one of the characters in some personal way, or with the book as whole.
June 24, 2012
My Ghost Story
I posted this last Halloween on Daventry Blue. It got such a wonderful response there I thought I'd post it here:
Growing up a Jehovah's Witness, I was taught to believe there were no such thing as ghosts. Sure, there were demons acting on behalf of Satan to fuck with us. But ghosts? No. How silly! It didn't hit me until much later how ridiculous it was to believe in demons and angels and an almighty bogeyman yet to not believe in ghosts. I mean, if you're gonna go out on that particular limb, go all the way, right? It's the same issue I have with people who believe in God, but won't believe in aliens. But that's another blog post altogether.
There have been times in my life that I have distinctly felt the creeping presence of something supernatural. There was a time in Rome where I felt, for lack of a better word, possessed; there was a time in college, staying in the rack room of the Phi Delt fraternity completely alone, that I was certain I heard a woman singing right beside me; and, of course, there were my hospital visions in 2010, most of those, I believe, past life regressions. There have been around a dozen or so experiences like these in my life that have left me scratching my head.
The first one that I can recall - and it just recently occured to me after years of having shelved it away in some corner of my mind - happened when I was a child, around four or five years old. I was with the fam at a get-together across the river. A get-together with a bunch of other Jehovah's Witness families. Can you imagine? Oh, the comedy!
Anyway, it was an outdoor thing, but the house was huge and the children were allowed also to play in the basement. There was nothing creepy about the house or the basement, though living by the river offers its own special ambience. It was full of light. The house itself was actually newly built.
There were a lot of children there. Some of them I had never met before. There was one girl in particular around my age who I took an immediate liking to. I remember her take-charge attitude and long brown hair, though I can't remember her name. And I don't really remember playing with anyone but her while I was there. We played mostly outside on a hill above the house.
Well, we came back to the house when food was served. I went to eat with my family and, after I was finished, went searching for the girl again. She was sassy. I was shy. I guess she balanced me out. I didn't find her and so went inside the house to the basement to play with the other kids.
Suddenly, there was a commotion. We were told that this girl, my friend, had taken a tumble down some stairs and was in a bedroom resting. I was so worried. I don't remember precisely what happened next, but I do remember specifically standing at the bottom of the basement stairs and looking up at another girl on the landing. I shouted for her to tell my new injured friend that I loved her. (I know, right?) Well, then the strangest thing happened. My injured friend was told of my great and undying love and was brought to the top of the stairs to hear it for herself. (Very dramatic, I must say!)
But it wasn't her. It was a girl with long brown hair and the same name as the one I had been playing with, but the face wasn't hers. She, too, looked at me as if she had never seen me before. I kept insisting, No, not her! The other girl with the same name. But everyone said,Yes, this is the girl who fell.
It was a disorienting experience. I don't remember anything about the get-together after that, but I do remember being quite irritated that someone had taken my new sassy friend away. I never saw her face again after that. I have been searching ever since...
Ha! Just kidding. I haven't been searching ever since. But it was a very weird experience for me.
Growing up a Jehovah's Witness, I was taught to believe there were no such thing as ghosts. Sure, there were demons acting on behalf of Satan to fuck with us. But ghosts? No. How silly! It didn't hit me until much later how ridiculous it was to believe in demons and angels and an almighty bogeyman yet to not believe in ghosts. I mean, if you're gonna go out on that particular limb, go all the way, right? It's the same issue I have with people who believe in God, but won't believe in aliens. But that's another blog post altogether.
There have been times in my life that I have distinctly felt the creeping presence of something supernatural. There was a time in Rome where I felt, for lack of a better word, possessed; there was a time in college, staying in the rack room of the Phi Delt fraternity completely alone, that I was certain I heard a woman singing right beside me; and, of course, there were my hospital visions in 2010, most of those, I believe, past life regressions. There have been around a dozen or so experiences like these in my life that have left me scratching my head.
The first one that I can recall - and it just recently occured to me after years of having shelved it away in some corner of my mind - happened when I was a child, around four or five years old. I was with the fam at a get-together across the river. A get-together with a bunch of other Jehovah's Witness families. Can you imagine? Oh, the comedy!
Anyway, it was an outdoor thing, but the house was huge and the children were allowed also to play in the basement. There was nothing creepy about the house or the basement, though living by the river offers its own special ambience. It was full of light. The house itself was actually newly built.
There were a lot of children there. Some of them I had never met before. There was one girl in particular around my age who I took an immediate liking to. I remember her take-charge attitude and long brown hair, though I can't remember her name. And I don't really remember playing with anyone but her while I was there. We played mostly outside on a hill above the house.
Well, we came back to the house when food was served. I went to eat with my family and, after I was finished, went searching for the girl again. She was sassy. I was shy. I guess she balanced me out. I didn't find her and so went inside the house to the basement to play with the other kids.
Suddenly, there was a commotion. We were told that this girl, my friend, had taken a tumble down some stairs and was in a bedroom resting. I was so worried. I don't remember precisely what happened next, but I do remember specifically standing at the bottom of the basement stairs and looking up at another girl on the landing. I shouted for her to tell my new injured friend that I loved her. (I know, right?) Well, then the strangest thing happened. My injured friend was told of my great and undying love and was brought to the top of the stairs to hear it for herself. (Very dramatic, I must say!)
But it wasn't her. It was a girl with long brown hair and the same name as the one I had been playing with, but the face wasn't hers. She, too, looked at me as if she had never seen me before. I kept insisting, No, not her! The other girl with the same name. But everyone said,Yes, this is the girl who fell.
It was a disorienting experience. I don't remember anything about the get-together after that, but I do remember being quite irritated that someone had taken my new sassy friend away. I never saw her face again after that. I have been searching ever since...
Ha! Just kidding. I haven't been searching ever since. But it was a very weird experience for me.
June 23, 2012
SuburbaNights Gets a Cover!
Charlie Esquiaqui designed the cover for SuburbaNights, Book 3 in my Jasper Lane series! To be released July 11th. Woot! Here be the blurb:
On Jasper Lane, Cassie Bloom is gearing up for Halloween; Becky is expecting, and her father is overbearing and paranoid; Rick and James are their usual happy selves, though James has developed a porn obsession; Terrence is putting together an all drag cheer squad; and David is helping Cliff transition from adult film star to bodybuilder. Of course, that’s just what’s going on at the surface. This is suburbia, and its underbelly is teeming with secrets.
Like what’s up with that rather odd family that moved in down the street—the family with the big cross in the front yard who look nothing alike. Like where Cassie’s son, Jason, has disappeared to and why he hasn’t called. Like what on Earth Nanna Hench is doing with a scooter, a megaphone, and a clown car full of religious zealots.
[image error]When Cliff suddenly disappears, Jasper Lane goes on high alert. Terrence posts fliers, and Rick and James scour the gym. David is determined to get his husband back, but when he goes missing too—and with Cassie and Melinda on a road trip to find Jason—it’s up to Terrence to solve the mystery and save the day.
June 19, 2012
The List
1. Received the final edits and galley for SuburbaNights, the third book in my Jasper Lane series from Dreamspinner Press. It will soon be ready for release on July 11th. Woot!
2. My new erotic - and by "erotic" I mean "absolutely filth" - short story, "Roids, Rumps, & Revenge", will soon be released by Seventh Window with a cover by the ever dependable Absolutbleu.
3. My friend and fellow sexy writer Jim Provenzano won a Lambda Literary Award for his lovely romance Every Time I Think of You. I'm only slightly jealous, because he's such a nice guy.
4. Charlie David (Dante's Cove), who recorded my book Simple Men to audio book, is in the midst of recording another: Woke Up in a Strange Place! I'll keep you all informed as far as the release date.
5. Charlie Esquiaqui is taking on the cover duties for SuburbaNights. Like HVH before him, I think he really gets the mood of the books.
6. My short horror tale, "Miss Locks", was released this week by Untreed Reads. I really enjoy writing horror, so I think you might be seeing more from me.
7. Twin Peaks. Lost. Battlestar Galactica. What do these have in common? I was obsessed with all of them. Still am. Add another TV series to that list: Game of Thrones. Wow.
2. My new erotic - and by "erotic" I mean "absolutely filth" - short story, "Roids, Rumps, & Revenge", will soon be released by Seventh Window with a cover by the ever dependable Absolutbleu.
3. My friend and fellow sexy writer Jim Provenzano won a Lambda Literary Award for his lovely romance Every Time I Think of You. I'm only slightly jealous, because he's such a nice guy.
4. Charlie David (Dante's Cove), who recorded my book Simple Men to audio book, is in the midst of recording another: Woke Up in a Strange Place! I'll keep you all informed as far as the release date.
5. Charlie Esquiaqui is taking on the cover duties for SuburbaNights. Like HVH before him, I think he really gets the mood of the books.
6. My short horror tale, "Miss Locks", was released this week by Untreed Reads. I really enjoy writing horror, so I think you might be seeing more from me.
7. Twin Peaks. Lost. Battlestar Galactica. What do these have in common? I was obsessed with all of them. Still am. Add another TV series to that list: Game of Thrones. Wow.
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