Gerald Dean Rice's Blog, page 70

Keepsakes, pt 2

“Of course,” George had said.

“Of course,” he said now, reminiscing. He felt himself bristle with anger and pulled one more time as hard as he could and it seemed to give somewhat, but George would never know for certain because in the next instant the barbs extended to spikes, impaling George’s hands.

He pulled his hand free and fell on his butt for the second time, holding his hands up as the blood flowed freely down his forearms. He blinked twice, the pain running past the wounds to his elbows.

Thump. George looked up at the cabinet door by the sink. Thump. There was something in there, brushing against the door. George got up on his knees, ignoring the pain. He crawled over to the door and pulled it slightly ajar. The spill of light revealed a few golden strands of… something. He pulled it open slightly farther and the wedge of light revealed more golden strands. He could see something round and glistening on the surface, but the thing in front of him was a mass of parts to him.  It was slow in becoming a whole.

“Carol?” he said, yanking the cabinet door open.

Carol’s head lolled out of the cabinet, skin shriveled in patches and one remaining eye sunken and fogged over.  The other socket was a hole, the artery hanging loosely over the cheek. There were a few straggling strands of her blonde hair left, clinging to her bare skull. Her lower half was gone and what was left looked picked bare.

“Carol, no,” George whispered. His mind raced as tears filled his eyes, wondering when he had done this. His hand was cradling the back of her head, propping her up.

Thump. Carol’s head fell free from George’s hand. He scooted away from the other cabinet door and slowly pulled it open.

Thick green tentacles burst from behind the door and wrapped firmly around George’s forearm. He heard the bones crack as they began to pull. He screamed as they relentlessly drew him in, slapping his free hand above the door and pushing. George felt his shoulder jolt out the socket and his clenching muscles begin to give way. He caught site of the potted plant above the sink one last time before he was pulled in. The bud had burst open; the issuing flower turned toward him.  It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He still struggled half-heartedly, recognizing the animal grunting as his own voice. His body shook from the effort as he felt the tentacles wrapping around his thighs and waist. The plant lifted him and pulled him in except for his arm and head. He cried out one last time before his face smashed with a sharp crunch and neck and shoulder were nearly torn off as he was drawn in. His fingers hooked the cabinet door and shut it behind him.

Keepsakes, pt 1

I said I might have something new for the blog around this time and I found and oldie I wrote somewhere around 2000-2001.  A group of us all wrote stories with the same title, “Keepsakes”.  I don’t remember exactly what it was for, but I think it was one of my first stories after “Night of the Loving Dead”.  There’s an story that goes along with that one I’ll share sometime about the whole submission process and the ensuing 9 month waiting game with Cemetery Dance, but just enjoy this first part for now and the second part will be up sometime later today- let’s say… 8:30ish?

George sat and stared at that stupid potted plant. He plucked his thumb out of his mouth and fresh beads of red immediately sprouted up. The pain was unbelievable when he’d tried to pull that thing from the windowsill.

He stood and approached it, tentatively, wondering how it had rooted to that one spot. Carol would have enjoyed seeing this. Running off the way she had, she hadn’t meant to do anything but hurt him. She was always so selfish.

George had gotten his revenge, though. Carol had left everything behind. Her clothes, jewelry, her cat, Gus- everything. He’d taken his time, destroying it all. George relished the pain of Gus’ claws raking his arms for the last time right before he’d gone into the dishwasher. The platinum pendant went on top of the pyre of her clothes he’d set fire to in an abandoned parking lot.

“Friggin’ Robby Keller,” he muttered to himself as he examined the potted plant. “What he have I don’t?” There were tiny razor thin barbs edging all the way around the saucer underneath the pot. George sucked on his thumb again, carefully circling his other hand around the top of the pot. Those barbs had hurt so much he’d stumbled over his own feet trying to get away from them.

“‘He listens to me’,” George mocked. “‘He cares about me as a person.’” He tugged on the pot but it didn’t budge.

“What the hell?” he said. He gave it two more tugs, wrapping his wounded hand around the other and put his knee onto the cabinet face for leverage.

The plant had been his special project. He’d been ready to chuck it as far as he could when he decided to do something different. Instead, he poured everything in it he could find. Bleach, mouthwash, spoiled milk and beer when he was home alone drunk- anything, so long as it wasn’t water.

The damn thing hadn’t died, though. It didn’t grow, either. It was always looking like it was ready to bud, but that was exactly how it looked the day Carol had brought it home.

“What is it?” he asked her, annoyed.

“I don’t know, but it’s exotic!” she said, looking excited. Carol was always into ‘exotic’. That’s why George had to waste so much money on jewelry. She was so inconsiderate she’d even waited until he’d slipped the engagement ring on her finger before telling him no. Before telling him she was leaving him for Robby Keller. He could take care of her the way she deserved to be taken care of, she’d said. He knew how to treat a woman, she’d said. He was a real man, she’d said. Her bags were already packed- when George had seen them he had assumed she was going to visit her mother again.

The things she’d said to him then. George knew he wasn’t the brightest man or the best looking, but he didn’t deserve how she’d made him feel. He didn’t even want to think the words she’d said, they burned him so.

George was aware of his imposing size, his mother always said how he had to be careful with people and Carol being as small as she was, he knew better, but… there’s only so far a guy could be pushed. He immediately regretted it after, wanted to run after her when she fled the room, but was too afraid of what he might still do.

He heard her screaming and knocking around in the kitchen, probably destroying it, but as soon as the anger rose up in him to run downstairs he would see that wounded face again. He couldn’t take that face again.  George sat and began to weep.

It wasn’t long before the noise stopped. George didn’t have his watch on, but he didn’t think it’d been that long, anyway. He could have blacked out for a little while.  He did that sometimes when he got angry.

“Carol?” he called. “Carol?” He crept downstairs, afraid to face her. “Carol, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I understand if you want to leave me.” He didn’t understand, but you were supposed to say stuff like that to get people to forgive you.

Of course, she was gone.

End of Year Sale

Let me edit for you- http://razorlinepress.com/editing/

As I’m sure many of you who are reading this are either budding or established authors, a great many of you probably need an editor for your upcoming project.  Have you considered Razorline Press?  Our editing is not only fast and affordable, but now it’s on sale.  Authors who reserve before the end of the year will get 20% off their total bill.

Take a look at the editing page.  If you have a 50,000 word title your total would be $750 for full copyediting, but  knock 20% off that and you’ll be paying only $600 for a fully-edited manuscript.

Slots are first come, first serve, so reserve today.  Even if you aren’t done with your draft, 10% down locks in this rate.

I also have a few added bonuses I throw in for free.  Like tips on how to create a really good-looking cover for less than $80, how to buy an ISBN for your printed book, and how to publish on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords without the headache.  I’ll also give you a couple tweets and post on my Facebook pages.  I currently have just under 15,000 followers on Twitter.

My dance card is going to be full really soon, I hope you’re on it.

I think I Know How Dexter Will End

I have to revise my presumption of the series finale of Dexter in light of the closing events of the season 7 finale.  I think after listening to Darkly Dreaming Dexter is how I came to the conclusion LaGuerta would die.  And I also think how she died was intentionally copied from the book.  I wish I was more familiar with the books, but I still hold by my original theory there is going to be a killer very similar to Dexter who will bring unwanted attention to him.

I’m not sure if Dex’s girlfriend is going to play a part next season.  Lumen never came back.  But there is definitely going to be a rift between Deb and Dexter and the only way to ‘mend’ it will be for him to die.

Everything is going to appear to be falling apart for the both of them.  They won’t be as close to each other as they have been and there will be palpable awkwardness between them.  Batista will not retire.  He will seek out Maria’s killer, making it his mission to bring this person to justice.  With every suspect who comes into view for the department, Debra’s guilt will ratchet up.  Oh, and combine that with the fact she will be the acting Captain, taking the place of the woman she killed.

Dexter will be building.  He will want to kill, but more than ever, he will not want to kill.  He will throw himself into his job, making sure he puts together murder scenes as effectively as possible to create lock-tight cases.  But a suspect will fall through the cracks and Dexter will give in and stalk the murderer only to find him after he has already been killed in a manner very similar to how Dexter kills.

There is a purpose to this killer other than the obvious.  This new killer will at first be labeled a copycat, but Dexter will see him as an escape; a person his murders can be pinned on.  Except, LaGuerta accusing Dexter of being the Bay Harbor Butcher will point Batista in his direction, tightening the noose with each of the copycat’s kills.

The only way out will be for Dexter to find the evidence that will lead to the real killer’s capture, leaving it for Debra to find after he has become the killer’s last victim.  Except the new butcher won’t be his killer.  It will happen in a place exactly like where Dexter was reborn, where Debra was remade and where they both of them will complete their circles as he leaves her no choice but to kill him.

 

Think you might like to read more of my stuff? Check out The Butterman Cometh on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.

Looking for Something New?

I have a short in mind I’m going to blog in the days leading up to Christmas. It has to be short because I’m in the middle of about three things, but if you like a free read, stay tuned starting December 22nd.

The Ancient Texts- Take 2

Ancient Texts

As has been pointed out, my prior post on the story I wrote back in the 8th grade didn’t exactly post the way I intended.  The link above should guide you to the whole shebang.

 

Watching the Dexter Finale? Predictions

It’s about ten minutes away and I wanted to put down my predictions for the Dexter season finale. The obvious will be Dexter killing his girlfriend. But what will happen along that path?

You may have already read my prediction for the series finale and so far, none of it has been disproven, but I do have to add one thing: Laguerta is going to die. But something about the nature if her death or her death and Dexter’s girlfriend in combination will start the events to the close of the show. We’ll see in an hour or less…

Review of Darkly Dreaming Dexter

Is Bookbub Legit?

I’ve had more than a couple searches land on my website about this topic and I want to address this. http://www.bookbub.com is a service, free to readers, that advertises free or deeply discounted books.

Authors or publishers pay for these ads. I paid for an ad for my novella, Fleshbags, reducing it to 99¢ for about two weeks, resulting in a tremendous jump in sales in the first three days. Obviously, the benefit for me was sales and exposure. The benefit for the reader was a steeply discounted story they might not have known about otherwise.

After the third or fourth day sales drop off tremendously, but an author should still see a decent amount of traffic. I’d recommend any indie author use Bookbub without hesitation.

Darkly Dreaming Dexter – Review

 

I just finished listening to this on audio.  I actually saw this book in store when it initially came out but ignored it because there was simply a ton of other stuff I wanted to read.  I’ve since gone on to enjoy the Showtime series and I finally came back around to this gem.

For the most part, what’s on the show is what’s in the book.  I’ll try to be as spoiler free-friendly as possible, but Laguerta isn’t anything like the Lieutenant on the show.  She’s a political animal with very little by the way of detective smarts.  Dexter describes her as patient; able to outwait anyone in her path to get what she needs.  Deb is described as a much more attractive woman than she is on the show and there is no love-interest angle with the Ice Truck Killer (called the Tamiami Butcher).  The book moves much too fast for anyone to have a side story like that.

Well, that isn’t true, exactly.  Dexter and Rita are pretty much exactly how they were on the show except events took place between them that were stretched across the first two seasons of the show.

But the story involves Dexter being tremendously introspective despite him saying over and over again how he isn’t human and is devoid of emotion.  Which is just like a boxer shaking his head after being unexpectedly gut-punched to indicate he isn’t hurt even though just about everyone who saw it is ready to sympathetically vomit and roll around in agony.  He does feel… he just doesn’t know how to process and interpret his feelings.

Nowhere is that more apparent than when Dex meets the Butcher.  For those of you completely unfamiliar with the show or the books, I won’t give away who this person is, but it’s someoen significant.  And Dex turns into a fountain of emotions in this pivotal scene.

Lindsay’s style is very easy on the ears and I found myself changing discs pretty fast.  I made excuses to go back to my car to listen a little more.  I just ordered the next book from the library and am excited to pick it up.

Make sure to come back tomorrow for my opinion on what happens on the season finale.  And you can read how I think the series will wrap up too.

The Ancient Texts have been Resurrected.

Read on if you dare…