Michael David Matula's Blog: Author Michael Matula, page 8
April 26, 2013
An Interview with Tania Elizabeth
I had the chance to speak with Austalian author Tania Elizabeth recently about her new novel, The Tier of Eternal Grace, as well as talk a bit about her involvement with the Starlight Children's Foundation. It's a non-profit organization aiming to help out kids struggling with chronic and life-threatening medical conditions. First off, I'd like to say that I'm very happy to play a part in this, and to help raise awareness for a great cause. Can you tell us a little about the Starlight Children's Foundation, and how you originally got involved with them?
Though my passions lay within being a writer, my deepest desire and where I gain my greatest wealth, is in helping others. And as a mother myself, the very thought of having your child being placed into a position where the future is uncertain due to serious illness is unfathomable.
I'd like to know a bit about your book, The Tier of Eternal Grace. Is it your first novel?
It is my first published book, yes. The Tier of Eternal Grace is a trilogy. It is a captivating fantasy of magic and passion, wound into the truths of reality that will enchant readers with its depiction of the faerie realm, and the exploits of the faeries themselves. Book One of the series, ‘The Moon Clearing’, which was released earlier this year, is an immersive tale of mysticism and adventure, of spiritual and sensual intent that shall enrapture your every sense.
Is there a message to the book?
To love oneself within. Through the writing of this book and the words of Tatiana, the queen of thy faeries, I myself came to understand the true meaning of I Love Me. This would be my hope for others. Alongside the understanding that we all, including all elements of Mother Earth have soul, and feel.
Was there anything in particular that inspired you to write it?
It would be the coming into myself. The acknowledging that I was worthy of love. That I was worthy of self love. It was then my desire to write a book that enabled others to understand this of themselves, but to do it in a way that also had them be able to loose themselves in a world of enchantment. For although I enjoy reading all genres, my absolute favorite genre is fantasy fiction.
Do you have a favorite author?
I have many. Though if I had to choose one it would be Florence Scovel Shinn. Her words changed me in more ways than one.
I sometimes try to sneak in little inside jokes or references into my books, which only a few people will actually catch (like the colors or mascot from my high school, or using birthdays in secret codes). And are there any in-jokes or secrets you'd be willing to share with us about your book?
I have a quirky and some would say flirtatious sense of humor, and yes there are a few of that manner throughout. My dearest friends have picked up on them. As for the rest of the world . . . that, only time will tell ;)
How much, if at all, has being from Australia influenced your writing? It's always seemed like a magical place to me, which seems to fit quite well with your novel.
I do have to admit that I was blessed with a beautiful childhood, being brought up by the rainforest, by the Great Barrier Reef. It was my many weekends spent in my own enchanting realms of thought and dream that flourished my beliefs in all that was magic. Though, I have also been blessed by some of the most admirable and spiritual beings in the last so many years. Through their support and guidance, it has enabled me to delve further into my own spiritual connections, bringing forth what it was that I needed in order to have my dreams of writing become more than just a dream.
Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?
To simply write of heart and to believe in your words, in your story, without the entanglement of doubt and fear arising.
And if people would like to help out the Starlight Children's Foundation, what are some ways they can contribute?
I encourage any who would like to donate, even as little as a single dollar, to do so via this link.
http://starlightday2013.gofundraise.com.au/page/ElizabethT
And finally, what are some places where readers can learn about your current and future projects?
I, Tania Elizabeth am the author of The Tier of Eternal Grace. Book One The Moon Clearing was released earlier this year. Book Two The Mirrors Shadow will be released about September. Book Three will then follow in the early part of 2014.
SUMMARY of The Moon Clearing
Beyond the boundary that separates the mundane and earthly planes from the divine lies Eterna Fadas, a place ruled by extraordinary beings, lithe and human-like in appearance, yet ethereal in their grace and beauty, and sensuous in nature.
"I have existed always! Where I began I do not know, for all I know is just as I am today!"
As Queen, Tatiana was thought to have lived a life of opulence, her faith and beliefs her endearing essence. Why then was it so, that beneath the picture of perfection laid torments and terrors even she dare not explain. Being She came with its prices paid. Being She came with a deal; a contract in which she was to relinquish herself to a rogue of unmerciful fury. Would this be the end of all she know? Would this be the end of her existence?
To find out more, please do so through any of these links.
FACEBOOK http://www.facebook.com/TheTierOfEternalGrace?ref=hl
BLOG http://taniaelizabeth11.com
AMAZON http://www.amazon.com/The-Tier-Of-Eternal-Grace/dp/1479761877/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1363858392&sr=8-1&keywords=the+tier+of+eternal+grace
BARNES AND NOBLE http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-tier-of-eternal-grace-tania-elizabeth/1114561183?ean=9781479761876&itm=1
YouTube http://youtu.be/TI7C6pTTPK4
Thank you very much for joining us, Tania. It's been a pleasure having you here as a guest on the blog.
Much love, blessings and faerie kisses to all x
April 12, 2013
Upcoming Events
I'll be at Printer's Row in downtown Chicago June 8th and 9th, sitting with a few of the folks from Post Mortem Press. It should be fun. I've also signed up for a 2-hour slot on Sunday at the Chicago Writer's Association table, but we'll see if that works out. I'm worried I'll end up like a character in a TV sitcom, running back and forth between dates, hoping neither of them figure out I've double-booked.
And I've just registered to participate in the Joliet Regional Author Fair on October 12, 2013. I'm really looking forward to it, as it'll be my first author fair, and it's always great to meet other writers and readers.
And I've just registered to participate in the Joliet Regional Author Fair on October 12, 2013. I'm really looking forward to it, as it'll be my first author fair, and it's always great to meet other writers and readers.
March 11, 2013
Author interviews: seeing double.
I've been interviewed by the wonderful Claire C. Riley on her Limerence blog, which can be found here: http://clairecriley.weebly.com/3/post/2013/02/author-spotlightmichael-matula.html
Also, my favorite editor, Felicia A. Sullivan, interviewed me for her Facebook page, which can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/indieeditor/posts/571535396190401
Questions include: "Tell us your plan for riding out the zombie apocalypse", "Have you always wanted to be a writer?" and "What's the best piece of advice you've been given in regards to your writing?"
Also, my favorite editor, Felicia A. Sullivan, interviewed me for her Facebook page, which can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/indieeditor/posts/571535396190401
Questions include: "Tell us your plan for riding out the zombie apocalypse", "Have you always wanted to be a writer?" and "What's the best piece of advice you've been given in regards to your writing?"
February 12, 2013
The Wind and the Damned
This is my flash fiction horror story, originally published on deadlyeverafter.com. If you like what you read, please check out Try Not To Burn, my horror novel set in the afterlife, available now on Amazon, Amazon UK, and Amazon Canada, as well as on Nook. It's also available in paperback on Amazon in the US and the UK. You can check out an excerpt of the book on this blog, or click "look inside" on Amazon to preview the book.
The Wind and the Damnedby Michael David Matula
These days, I don't go out much. No one does, as far as I can tell. What's the point, really? What's even out there anymore? Is anything alive? I can't even remember the last time I heard a bird's buoyant chirp or the neighborhood dogs' throaty barks.
Not that I really listen all that much for them. I mostly just sleep, drink what's left of the booze I scrounged up from Mr. Sarven's place down the street, and daydream about the so-called “good old days.” You know the ones: The days when the world wasn't royally fucked; the days when a man could step outside his humble home without clutching a weapon in his fists; and the days when life was worth living.
Those days are long gone, though. Only the daydreams remain.
Daydreams, and a whole bunch of empty bottles.
“Shit.”
Oh. And Joan. Joan remains. Daydreams, empty bottles, and Joan.
She mostly just sits around and swears, though.
“What now?” I ask, watching the wiry redhead face-palm as she continues to rock back and forth in her lime-green easy chair, swaying to a rhythm only she can hear.
She doesn't look at me. She never does. I've heard a few girls tell me “Not if you were the last man on Earth” before. I'd just always assumed they were bluffing.
Not Joan, though. She's sticking to her guns.
I sigh miserably as I watch her.
I may not be in the best shape of my life, and sure, my hair might be thinning a tad at the back, and, you know, I've currently got a few Cheeto dust stains on my green and white stripey shirt, but hell...
...I might really be the last man on Earth, and that should count for something, shouldn't it?
“You heard it, right?” Joan asks, still not glancing at me, still rocking back and forth.
“Heard what?” I ask right back, ever the conversationalist.
“The wailing outside. You heard the wailing outside, right?”
“That's the wind,” I inform her, even as I wonder why she feels the need to do this. My nerves are already frayed enough as is, I don't really need my platonic new housemate to constantly remind me we're up a certain creek without a certain paddle.
“It's not the wind,” she insists. “They always say it's the wind. They always say it's the wind, and they're always wrong. It's them. It's the wailing, and it means we're both dead. We're dead, Stanley.”
“Would it kill you to look at me?” I want to ask.
I don't, though. I just listen again. I hate to admit it, but Joan's got me spooked.
But I only hear the wind. That was all it was. The wind. Rushing and whistling to its blustery heart's content.
“There it is again,” Joan says.
I shake my head. “Would you please stop trying to freak me out? Things are bad enough as it is without--”
That's when I finally hear it. My breath caught in my throat, my heart practicing cartwheels in my chest, I hear the high-pitched shriek cutting through the sound of the heavy gusts.
It was them, after all.
The banshee wail of the hunting party's spotter. The telltale scream of the herald of the damned. The spearhead of an army of monsters that had blanketed the Earth and torn most of humanity asunder.
I really hate that wail.
I set my hands on my knees and push myself up off my cot, heft up my pruning shears and my UV flashlight, and glance over at Joan.
She just keeps rocking.
The wailing just keeps growing louder.
“Might as well let 'em all eat me now,” I mutter under my breath as my feet clomp up the stairs of the musty cellar towards the doorway.
I place my hand on the doorknob, preparing to enter the house and await the coming of the damned, and possibly meet my maker as well.
“See you later, Joan,” I tell her, shooting what may be my last glimpse at what may be the last woman in the world.
She doesn't respond.
I shrug and flip on the UV light.
I hear glass shatter as the damned burst into the house beyond the cellar door. I hear the claws at the ends of their twisted limbs clattering across the tile floor of the kitchen.
The wailing stops.
The damned like it to be quiet when they feed.
The Wind and the Damnedby Michael David Matula
These days, I don't go out much. No one does, as far as I can tell. What's the point, really? What's even out there anymore? Is anything alive? I can't even remember the last time I heard a bird's buoyant chirp or the neighborhood dogs' throaty barks.
Not that I really listen all that much for them. I mostly just sleep, drink what's left of the booze I scrounged up from Mr. Sarven's place down the street, and daydream about the so-called “good old days.” You know the ones: The days when the world wasn't royally fucked; the days when a man could step outside his humble home without clutching a weapon in his fists; and the days when life was worth living.
Those days are long gone, though. Only the daydreams remain.
Daydreams, and a whole bunch of empty bottles.
“Shit.”
Oh. And Joan. Joan remains. Daydreams, empty bottles, and Joan.
She mostly just sits around and swears, though.
“What now?” I ask, watching the wiry redhead face-palm as she continues to rock back and forth in her lime-green easy chair, swaying to a rhythm only she can hear.
She doesn't look at me. She never does. I've heard a few girls tell me “Not if you were the last man on Earth” before. I'd just always assumed they were bluffing.
Not Joan, though. She's sticking to her guns.
I sigh miserably as I watch her.
I may not be in the best shape of my life, and sure, my hair might be thinning a tad at the back, and, you know, I've currently got a few Cheeto dust stains on my green and white stripey shirt, but hell...
...I might really be the last man on Earth, and that should count for something, shouldn't it?
“You heard it, right?” Joan asks, still not glancing at me, still rocking back and forth.
“Heard what?” I ask right back, ever the conversationalist.
“The wailing outside. You heard the wailing outside, right?”
“That's the wind,” I inform her, even as I wonder why she feels the need to do this. My nerves are already frayed enough as is, I don't really need my platonic new housemate to constantly remind me we're up a certain creek without a certain paddle.
“It's not the wind,” she insists. “They always say it's the wind. They always say it's the wind, and they're always wrong. It's them. It's the wailing, and it means we're both dead. We're dead, Stanley.”
“Would it kill you to look at me?” I want to ask.
I don't, though. I just listen again. I hate to admit it, but Joan's got me spooked.
But I only hear the wind. That was all it was. The wind. Rushing and whistling to its blustery heart's content.
“There it is again,” Joan says.
I shake my head. “Would you please stop trying to freak me out? Things are bad enough as it is without--”
That's when I finally hear it. My breath caught in my throat, my heart practicing cartwheels in my chest, I hear the high-pitched shriek cutting through the sound of the heavy gusts.
It was them, after all.
The banshee wail of the hunting party's spotter. The telltale scream of the herald of the damned. The spearhead of an army of monsters that had blanketed the Earth and torn most of humanity asunder.
I really hate that wail.
I set my hands on my knees and push myself up off my cot, heft up my pruning shears and my UV flashlight, and glance over at Joan.
She just keeps rocking.
The wailing just keeps growing louder.
“Might as well let 'em all eat me now,” I mutter under my breath as my feet clomp up the stairs of the musty cellar towards the doorway.
I place my hand on the doorknob, preparing to enter the house and await the coming of the damned, and possibly meet my maker as well.
“See you later, Joan,” I tell her, shooting what may be my last glimpse at what may be the last woman in the world.
She doesn't respond.
I shrug and flip on the UV light.
I hear glass shatter as the damned burst into the house beyond the cellar door. I hear the claws at the ends of their twisted limbs clattering across the tile floor of the kitchen.
The wailing stops.
The damned like it to be quiet when they feed.
January 26, 2013
The Next Big Thing Q&A
I've just been tagged by a very lovely and talented pair of writers, Jaclyn Aurore and Julie Rainey in the Next Big Thing Blog Chain Whatsit. (I believe that's the full name, though I could be mistaken).
Apparently, we each answer the same ten questions or something, and then choose five more people to carry this on, until no one's left standing. It's basically Highlander, I think.
Anyways, here are the ten questions:
1. What is the working title of your book? Try Not to Burn.
2. Where did the idea for the book come from? I originally wrote a short story just out of high school, about a man who wakes up in purgatory, and meets up with a group of other people who died before asking forgiveness for their sins. I later took that story and wrote a pair of novels out of it, the first of which has just been published.I've always loved horror stories, and there aren't too many things that scare people more than death, and what might be awaiting them if they mess up in life and go to the wrong corner of the afterlife.
3. What genre does it fall under? It's a mixture of horror, suspense, and sci-fi. It's not exactly a romance (the sequel starts to kick it up a notch, though), but there is a bit of a love triangle aspect thrown into the mix.
4. What actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? Brandon Morales: Edgar Ramirez from Domino.
Samantha Reiss, a natural beauty with a mean streak and a ponytail: Evangeline Lilly from Lost. Jane Calrin: I just saw Dredd last night, and Olivia Thirlby looks quite a bit like what I imagined when I wrote the character, even down to the haircut, although Jane's a redhead.
5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? A horror novel set in purgatory, about three lost souls struggling towards redemption.
6. Will your book be self-published or be represented by an agency? It was published by Post Mortem Press, a small independent publisher from Cincinnati, Ohio.
7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript? Two or three months, I think, though this was a number of years ago. I've done a few other drafts since then, all of which took a ton of time themselves. The first draft was when I was just getting started writing, so it was pretty rough.
8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? The Divine Comedy or Paradise Lost would probably be the closest I could think of, though the Bible--I think it was self-published a while back--is also a pretty big influence. My publisher has called my book “The Hunger Games in Hell,” though that book's still on my “to read” list. And by that, I mean I'll probably catch the movie at some point and tell people I read the book.
9. Who or what inspired you to write this book? Depending on what you believe in, it was either me or God. I'm still not quite sure myself, sometimes.
10. What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest? It's funny, it's heartfelt, and it asks serious questions about life and death. Does everyone deserve forgiveness? Would God condemn a good man to suffer for all eternity, or is there another reason why Brand was sent to this place? And if you're like Sam, and you've given up all hope of redemption and accepted your fate, can you ever start believing again? Is it too late for some of us, or is there hope for us all?
And now, the next links in the chain:
I'll be honest, I'm not much of a stickler for rules, so this might end up being more of a blog loop than a blog chain.
http://clairecriley.weebly.com/http://ryannegumfory.weebly.com/http://pat-writersforum.blogspot.com/http://josephdibartolo.blogspot.com/http://chrisbostic.weebly.com/
Apparently, we each answer the same ten questions or something, and then choose five more people to carry this on, until no one's left standing. It's basically Highlander, I think.
Anyways, here are the ten questions:
1. What is the working title of your book? Try Not to Burn.
2. Where did the idea for the book come from? I originally wrote a short story just out of high school, about a man who wakes up in purgatory, and meets up with a group of other people who died before asking forgiveness for their sins. I later took that story and wrote a pair of novels out of it, the first of which has just been published.I've always loved horror stories, and there aren't too many things that scare people more than death, and what might be awaiting them if they mess up in life and go to the wrong corner of the afterlife.
3. What genre does it fall under? It's a mixture of horror, suspense, and sci-fi. It's not exactly a romance (the sequel starts to kick it up a notch, though), but there is a bit of a love triangle aspect thrown into the mix.
4. What actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? Brandon Morales: Edgar Ramirez from Domino.
Samantha Reiss, a natural beauty with a mean streak and a ponytail: Evangeline Lilly from Lost. Jane Calrin: I just saw Dredd last night, and Olivia Thirlby looks quite a bit like what I imagined when I wrote the character, even down to the haircut, although Jane's a redhead.
5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? A horror novel set in purgatory, about three lost souls struggling towards redemption.
6. Will your book be self-published or be represented by an agency? It was published by Post Mortem Press, a small independent publisher from Cincinnati, Ohio.
7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript? Two or three months, I think, though this was a number of years ago. I've done a few other drafts since then, all of which took a ton of time themselves. The first draft was when I was just getting started writing, so it was pretty rough.
8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? The Divine Comedy or Paradise Lost would probably be the closest I could think of, though the Bible--I think it was self-published a while back--is also a pretty big influence. My publisher has called my book “The Hunger Games in Hell,” though that book's still on my “to read” list. And by that, I mean I'll probably catch the movie at some point and tell people I read the book.
9. Who or what inspired you to write this book? Depending on what you believe in, it was either me or God. I'm still not quite sure myself, sometimes.
10. What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest? It's funny, it's heartfelt, and it asks serious questions about life and death. Does everyone deserve forgiveness? Would God condemn a good man to suffer for all eternity, or is there another reason why Brand was sent to this place? And if you're like Sam, and you've given up all hope of redemption and accepted your fate, can you ever start believing again? Is it too late for some of us, or is there hope for us all?
And now, the next links in the chain:
I'll be honest, I'm not much of a stickler for rules, so this might end up being more of a blog loop than a blog chain.
http://clairecriley.weebly.com/http://ryannegumfory.weebly.com/http://pat-writersforum.blogspot.com/http://josephdibartolo.blogspot.com/http://chrisbostic.weebly.com/
January 25, 2013
"Dear Lucky Agent" Contest
I just found out about the "Dear Lucky Agent" contest on the Writer's Digest website, within the Guide to Literary Agents blog.
It's free to enter, and it seems like you can enter as many books as you wish, with the prize being a critique by a literary agent. Unfortunately, the only genres they're considering at this time are Young Adult and sci-fi.
Here's the link, for more information:
http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/13th-free-dear-lucky-agent-contest-young-adult-and-sci-fi
The contest is open until the 31st of January, 2013.
It's free to enter, and it seems like you can enter as many books as you wish, with the prize being a critique by a literary agent. Unfortunately, the only genres they're considering at this time are Young Adult and sci-fi.
Here's the link, for more information:
http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/13th-free-dear-lucky-agent-contest-young-adult-and-sci-fi
The contest is open until the 31st of January, 2013.
New Book Description for Amazon
It's not live yet, as it's still pending publisher approval, but here's the new book description I wrote up last night for Try Not to Burn's Amazon page:
Officer Brand Morales never even saw the gunshot that killed him. All he saw was the serial killer's grin before the world went black. Awakening in a nightmarish plane of purgatory, replete with demons and desperation, Brand meets a pair of lost souls simply struggling to survive: Samantha Reiss, a tough-as-nails bank robber who died from lethal injection, and Jane Calrin, a teenage girl who ate a bullet to cap off a tear-stained murder-suicide.
With their souls hanging in the balance, and eternal damnation never more than one wrong turn away, these three strangers will need to learn to trust one another as they journey toward salvation. But when the rules of the game begin to change in purgatory's favor, and when lost loves and hidden desires threaten to push the trio apart, they'll need more than faith and determination to pass God's final test.
They'll need a miracle.
Officer Brand Morales never even saw the gunshot that killed him. All he saw was the serial killer's grin before the world went black. Awakening in a nightmarish plane of purgatory, replete with demons and desperation, Brand meets a pair of lost souls simply struggling to survive: Samantha Reiss, a tough-as-nails bank robber who died from lethal injection, and Jane Calrin, a teenage girl who ate a bullet to cap off a tear-stained murder-suicide.
With their souls hanging in the balance, and eternal damnation never more than one wrong turn away, these three strangers will need to learn to trust one another as they journey toward salvation. But when the rules of the game begin to change in purgatory's favor, and when lost loves and hidden desires threaten to push the trio apart, they'll need more than faith and determination to pass God's final test.
They'll need a miracle.
January 16, 2013
Try Not to Burn
Excerpt from chapter one of Try Not to Burn:
“It's a bittersweet day for San Francisco, ladies and gentlemen. Our long, city-wide nightmare has finally drawn to a close, but it did not come without a heavy cost. News comes out of the San Francisco Police Department that renowned serial killer Victor Gregory Rellik has just been shot dead, mere moments ago, on the corner of Geary and Webster. Two police officers were on the scene at the time of the shooting. Details are still scarce as of this moment, but what we do know is that one of the police officers—his name has not yet been disclosed to the press—has been shot in the head and has been rushed to the hospital in critical condition.
“His partner, reported to be former police Lieutenant Francis Takeda, demoted after his alleged involvement in the Douglas Minton police brutality case, is being lauded as a hero by eyewitnesses at the scene.
“We go now to Carol Daly, live on the corner where Rellik's Reign was brought to its shocking conclusion. Carol, what have you been able to learn?”
“Thanks, Jackie. I have two men standing by who saw the entire grisly event unfold. We'll get their thoughts in just a moment. But first, I have just received word on the condition of Officer Takeda's partner, a twenty-two year old man who, I'm sorry to say, has now became Victor Rellik's thirty-fifth...and final...victim.
“Officer...”
***
Brandon Morales saw only darkness. Frozen, unflinching darkness. A bottomless pit that had swallowed him whole. The blackness existed all around him, choking him, closing in on him, while at the same time extending for as far as the eye could possibly see.
There lurked no light in the blackness, no point where he could see a seam or crack in the wall of endless shadow. No place he could use to regain his bearings, to work out which side was up and which side was down.
He tried to reach out with his hand toward the dark wall. He saw the blackness tremble, like ripples in a stream of water. But he couldn’t see his hand. Couldn’t feel it, either.
He couldn’t feel anything at all. He couldn’t blink. Couldn’t shout out. Couldn’t even feel his breath filling his lungs.
Fear yanked at the corners of his mind, resolute panic endeavoring to seize control of his thoughts.
Had he stopped breathing? Was he dying?
Was this what it felt like to die?
Was it already too late? Is this how he would spend the rest of eternity?
There were so many questions, but no voice to speak them, and the darkness had no answers.
He thought back to the last moment he remembered before the world went black.
He thought back to Geary Boulevard, located a few blocks west of San Francisco's Tenderloin district. The rust-flecked mint-green coupe he and his partner pulled over. He remembered stepping out of the squad car into the still summer air. Walking toward the car alone, the sunlight glancing into his eyes off the coupe's rear window.
Brand started to inform the driver why they pulled him over, that he had a brake light out. Nothing major. Nothing that should have been a problem, just a friendly word of warning. You should look into fixing that. Thanks. See you later.
Then the man’s face tugged at Brand's memory. He’d seen that scowl before. He’d seen the scar on the man’s lower lip before. He’d known him somehow, but he didn’t know why or how.
Then it hit him. The realization. It must have been plastered all over his face. Brand started to reach for his gun, the order to freeze forming in his mouth.
Too slowly, though. Far too slowly. The serial killer was already raising his hand toward the opened window.
He was smiling. The fucker had actually started smiling.
The man held something in his hand, but the object was blurry in Brand’s shattered memory. Not much of a mystery now, though.
Brand never even saw the flash of the gun. Everything just went black.
Literally.
And that was it.
Brand had never felt this alone in his entire life.
http://www.amazon.com/Try-Not-to-Burn-ebook/dp/B009G4MMC0/
“It's a bittersweet day for San Francisco, ladies and gentlemen. Our long, city-wide nightmare has finally drawn to a close, but it did not come without a heavy cost. News comes out of the San Francisco Police Department that renowned serial killer Victor Gregory Rellik has just been shot dead, mere moments ago, on the corner of Geary and Webster. Two police officers were on the scene at the time of the shooting. Details are still scarce as of this moment, but what we do know is that one of the police officers—his name has not yet been disclosed to the press—has been shot in the head and has been rushed to the hospital in critical condition.
“His partner, reported to be former police Lieutenant Francis Takeda, demoted after his alleged involvement in the Douglas Minton police brutality case, is being lauded as a hero by eyewitnesses at the scene.
“We go now to Carol Daly, live on the corner where Rellik's Reign was brought to its shocking conclusion. Carol, what have you been able to learn?”
“Thanks, Jackie. I have two men standing by who saw the entire grisly event unfold. We'll get their thoughts in just a moment. But first, I have just received word on the condition of Officer Takeda's partner, a twenty-two year old man who, I'm sorry to say, has now became Victor Rellik's thirty-fifth...and final...victim.
“Officer...”
***
Brandon Morales saw only darkness. Frozen, unflinching darkness. A bottomless pit that had swallowed him whole. The blackness existed all around him, choking him, closing in on him, while at the same time extending for as far as the eye could possibly see.
There lurked no light in the blackness, no point where he could see a seam or crack in the wall of endless shadow. No place he could use to regain his bearings, to work out which side was up and which side was down.
He tried to reach out with his hand toward the dark wall. He saw the blackness tremble, like ripples in a stream of water. But he couldn’t see his hand. Couldn’t feel it, either.
He couldn’t feel anything at all. He couldn’t blink. Couldn’t shout out. Couldn’t even feel his breath filling his lungs.
Fear yanked at the corners of his mind, resolute panic endeavoring to seize control of his thoughts.
Had he stopped breathing? Was he dying?
Was this what it felt like to die?
Was it already too late? Is this how he would spend the rest of eternity?
There were so many questions, but no voice to speak them, and the darkness had no answers.
He thought back to the last moment he remembered before the world went black.
He thought back to Geary Boulevard, located a few blocks west of San Francisco's Tenderloin district. The rust-flecked mint-green coupe he and his partner pulled over. He remembered stepping out of the squad car into the still summer air. Walking toward the car alone, the sunlight glancing into his eyes off the coupe's rear window.
Brand started to inform the driver why they pulled him over, that he had a brake light out. Nothing major. Nothing that should have been a problem, just a friendly word of warning. You should look into fixing that. Thanks. See you later.
Then the man’s face tugged at Brand's memory. He’d seen that scowl before. He’d seen the scar on the man’s lower lip before. He’d known him somehow, but he didn’t know why or how.
Then it hit him. The realization. It must have been plastered all over his face. Brand started to reach for his gun, the order to freeze forming in his mouth.
Too slowly, though. Far too slowly. The serial killer was already raising his hand toward the opened window.
He was smiling. The fucker had actually started smiling.
The man held something in his hand, but the object was blurry in Brand’s shattered memory. Not much of a mystery now, though.
Brand never even saw the flash of the gun. Everything just went black.
Literally.
And that was it.
Brand had never felt this alone in his entire life.
http://www.amazon.com/Try-Not-to-Burn-ebook/dp/B009G4MMC0/
December 23, 2012
Book Matchers
I recently added my first horror novel to Book Matchers, a brand new ebook website for writers and readers. Their slogan is: "Tell us what you like, and we'll match you with a book."
The submission process was quite easy, though there were quite a few boxes to check off. And it was somewhat difficult figuring out the choice of setting. I didn't see "Purgatory" listed anywhere in the options.
http://www.bookmatchers.com/try-not-to-burn-by-michael-matula/
The submission process was quite easy, though there were quite a few boxes to check off. And it was somewhat difficult figuring out the choice of setting. I didn't see "Purgatory" listed anywhere in the options.
http://www.bookmatchers.com/try-not-to-burn-by-michael-matula/
December 19, 2012
The Wind and the Damned
The Wind and the Damned, my newest horror short story, is now featured on Deadly Ever After's "Nightmares Before Christmas" promotion.
You can read it in its entirety here:
http://deadlyeverafter.com/2012/12/17/the-wind-and-the-damned/
They've got a ton of great stories up already, including ones by the incredibly talented JC Michael (author of Discoredia), and Julie Hutchings (author of Running Home).
You can read it in its entirety here:
http://deadlyeverafter.com/2012/12/17/the-wind-and-the-damned/
They've got a ton of great stories up already, including ones by the incredibly talented JC Michael (author of Discoredia), and Julie Hutchings (author of Running Home).
Author Michael Matula
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