Doctor M.C.'s Blog, page 8

HYPNO-TALKER’S FIRST DOWNLOAD: First Two Chapters

Cover art rendered by Doug Sturk a.k.a. Sturkwurk

Chapter 1

The Company Sold

Omaha, Nebraska

Monday Morning

Everyone who knows me, calls me “Oddy.” No, it’s not an insult, it’s the short version of my name, Odysseus. Theoretically, Arnie Bluteau and Janice Wellington should call me “Mr. Popeil,” since I am Information Technology Supervisor for Fleischer Transport, and thus their boss. But nope, Arnie and Janice call me “Oddy” too. We’re relaxed that way.

At the moment, the three of us were listening as Mr. Fleischer gave his last speech to his employees.

Since there was no one room in Fleischer Transport that could contain all us employees, the ceremony was being held in the parking lot.

Which means that I was wearing my “driving” bifocal glasses instead of my “reading” bifocal glasses. An optometrist could tell them apart, but to anybody else, they’re glasses with big, black, dorky-looking frames. Don’t ever get pinkeye.

“…From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all,” Mr. Fleischer was saying. “It has been your hard work and your dedication, each one of you, that has made Fleischer Transport an organization that people want to do business with. Over and over, you have made me proud.”

I murmured just loud enough for Arnie and Janice to hear, “The guy isn’t even gone yet, and I miss him already. He made every one of us employees feel like a king.”

Arnie murmured back, “Fleischer paid us like a king, too. Think the new lady is going to keep our great salaries?”

Janice shrugged. “We’ll find out, soon enough.”

Soon Mr. Fleischer finished his speech, to whistles and long applause. Then he stepped aside as the new owner, Olivia Olson, stepped to the podium.

I muttered, “Well, at least she’ll be nice to look at.” Ms. Olson was a brunette with her hair in a bun, which was the same color and hairstyle that one of my long-ago babysitters had worn. Okay, fine, I have a unusual fetish, which Olivia Olson just happened to hit.

Arnie nodded. “Oh, yeah. Check out her skirt. Long skirts do it for me.”

Janice whispered, “Are you two crazy? Look at her! Flat-chested, she’s skinny, she has no curves at all. Worse, she’s in her thirties.”

Such a description was every way different from Janice’s own. Natural-blond Janice had worked as a Hooter’s waitress when she’d been twenty-two—but that was five years and thirty pounds ago.

Now I grinned at Janice. “I think you’re jealous.”

“Pfft.”

“Then say something nice about how she looks.”

“I like her pearl earrings.”

“That’s it?”

Janice said, “Guys, she’s looking at us. I think she wants us to shut up.”

Indeed, Ms. Olson was still standing at the podium, giving her speech. But her eyes were looking daggers at the three of us.

But I must tell you that, however much I enjoyed looking at Ms. Olson, her speech was painful to listen to. Olivia Olson has a screechy voice.

****

Eventually Ms. Olson stepped away from the podium, handed Mr. Fleischer a white envelope, and the two of them shook hands. The old owner was grinning (as he often did); the new owner wasn’t smiling at all.

The show was over, so we employees drifted inside.

Two minutes later, Arnie, Janice and I were back inside Information Technology’s open bay, and I’d just switched back to my “reading” bifocal glasses.

There was a knock at the door.

Standing there was Mr. Fleischer and Ms. Olson. He was saying to her, “…since I’m the only Level Six user in the company, I’m the only one who can upgrade you to a Level Six account.”

Ms. Olson didn’t even look at Arnie, Janice, or me. “I understand that part, Maximilian, but why do we have to do it here? Your computer in your office is much more convenient.”

She hadn’t addressed the question to me, but I answered it: “So that there’s less harm if somebody put a keyboard-logger on his machine. For you to get a Level Six account, Mr. Fleischer has to personally log in and assign it to you, and he has to do it from my computer, and two people from I.T. have to type in their user names and passwords as witnesses.”

Then Ms. Olson asked me an oddball question. “What level of account do you have, Mr. Popeil?”

“Level Five: All Departments,” I said, as I wondered why she’d asked me that. “I can’t read Mr. Fleischer’s email, or peek inside his BIGBOSS folder; but other than that, I can look at, or change, anything that he can.”

“I see,” she said. Her face revealed nothing.

Then Ms. Olson turned to Mr. Fleischer. “Shall we do what we came for?”

Two minutes later, I was typing in my user name and password. “Okay, who’s the other witness? Arnie, Janice, do I have a volunteer?”

“I guess I will,” Janice said with a shrug.

As Janice was typing at my keyboard, Ms. Olson asked her, “How long have you worked here, Ms. Wellington?”

“Me? Almost five years.”

“Do you know your job?” Ms. Olson asked Janice.

I thought, Don’t ask me, lady. Janice have never worked hard enough for me to find out if she knows her job or not.

Meanwhile, Janice was shrugging again. “I know it well enough, I suppose.”

When Janice backed away from my keyboard, Ms. Olson asked the room, “So are we done now? I want to get started.”

Mr. Fleischer put a hand on her skinny shoulder. “Hold your horses, Olivia. We’re almost done.”

Now Mr. Fleischer looked at me. “Oddy, you need to change the combination for the BigBoss keypad.” Mr. Fleischer was referring to the keypad to get into his big office.

I nodded, then Mr. Fleischer turned back Ms. Olson. “Is there anything else I can help you with, before I leave?”

Olivia put on what looked to me like a very fake smile. “Thank you, Maximilian, but I’m good. Enjoy your retirement.”

Mr. Fleischer grinned, shook the hands of Arnie, Janice, and me, wished Ms. Olson good luck, then he was gone.

No sooner had he left, but Ms. Olson turned to glare at Arnie. “You! You work here in I.T.?”

Arnie’s face said, I can’t figure out what is going on. Aloud he said, “Yes, ma’am. I’m Arnold Bluteau.”

“When was the last time you shaved, Mr. Bluteau?”

Arnie’s face started turning red. He’s very sensitive about his heavy beard. (So I’ll never mention to him that I know that, because of that heavy beard and his big size, Arnie had been called “Caveman” in college.) Anyway, Arnie replied to Ms. Olson, “Six-thirty.”

“Six-thirty this morning, 6:30 last night, or June 30th of last year?”

There was complete silence in the room for two seconds. I was thinking, What the hell, lady? Then Arnie said, “Six-thirty this morning, ma’am.”

“Starting tomorrow, I want you to have some kind of shaving device in your desk. I expect you to shave during every lunch break. Is that clear?”

By now, Arnie’s face and neck all were bright red. “Yes, ma’am, very clear.”

Ms. Olson spun around to look me in the eye. “Tell me again about the computer systems in the building.”

So I did. I told her about the computers and the software for the S&D (scheduling and dispatch) and warehousing systems, and the state-of-the-art security system (“Complete with motion detectors and motion-analysis software!”) for the outer doors and the grounds.

Janice interrupted then. “But before you think everything is up-to-date and modern, ma’am, let Oddy tell you about inside security.”

I smirked. “Ms. Olson, the places that have keypads—your office, this place, Personnel, Payroll, the Warehouse Manager’s office—all that runs off a DOS computer. A Russian DOS computer, running Russian-written DOS software.”

Ms. Olson’s eyes were wide. “How did that happen?”

“It happened in 1990, a year after the Soviet Union broke up. Russia need hard currency, so Mr. Fleischer got the whole shebang for practically nothing.”

I led Ms. Olson over to a computer and monitor that looked like something out of a museum. I said, “Take a good look—the Chekhov Model Two. Now for your keypad. Write down a number between six and eight digits. Sorry, can’t be less than six, nor more than eight.”

She grabbed a sheet of source code out of the trashcan, thought a moment, then she wrote down—

11247635

One minute later, I handed the piece of paper back to her. “Here you go. All done.”

“Does this number get me into only my own office, or is it good for the other places you mentioned? Payroll, et cetera?”

I said, “All of them. You have the run of the building now.”

Ms. Olson nodded. “I assume you have a shredder here?”

Janice led Ms. Olson to the shredder. By then, Ms. Olson had the paper folded double, so that Janice couldn’t see the keypad code.

Ms. Olson fed the paper into the shredder, then she left, without another word.

The very last thing that I saw of Ms. Olson was her sexy brunette bun.

Little did she know that, despite her paranoia about her keypad code, it was already compromised. You see, if I switched the 76 in the sequence with a 19, I’d get 11-24-1935, which was Grandpa Harry’s birthday. And I certainly could remember the 76 easily, since 1976 was the year I was born.

No lie, fifty years from now, I could write down the eight digits that Ms. Olson had just shredded.

But why would I want to remember Ms. Olson’s keypad code? After all, that door was unlocked during normal business hours.

****

Thirty seconds later, I was back at my desk, in my glass-walled office. Arnie came to my open doorway, gestured to the floor by my desk, and asked, “Um, would you mind…?”

“Go right ahead,” I said.

By my desk were two sixteen-pound dumbbells. I use the dumbbells, plus sometimes I do push-ups in my office, and this is how I deal with stress. As a result, my legs are skinny, my abs are ordinary, and my pecs are ordinary, but my shoulders and arms are badass!

As Arnie was doing curls with the dumbbells, he asked, “Is my five o’clock shadow really that bad?”

I shook my head. “She was out of line, embarrassing you like that. That shit wasn’t called for.”

A minute later, he put the dumbbells down, then walked to the doorway. At the doorway, he turned around and looked me in the eyes.

Arnie said, “You’re my boss. I wish you’d said something.”

****

Just before lunch, the laser printer started to hum. When I saw that it was Janice, not Arnie, walking toward the printer, I got alert. Janice doesn’t work more than she has to. So she had to be up to something.

Janice scooped up the pages, then walked straight toward my open office door. Once she crossed my doorway, she put her finger on the first page, as though she were pointing to particular text.

Brace for heavy seas, I thought.

When she was only two feet away from my chair, she leaned forward, giving me a peek at pudgy cleavage. Murmuring quietly, as though Arnie might overhear, Janice said, “I left my lunch at home. Can I borrow five bucks from you? It’s for Lean Cuisine and a yogurt.”

“Here we go again. Why can’t you carry plastic in your purse?”

“If I carry a credit card around, sometimes I act stupid. Please? I’m hungry.”

“You’re into me for fifty-three dollars already, Janice. Do you ever plan to pay me back?”

“I swear, I’ll pay it all back next Monday. Well, maybe not Monday.”

I didn’t believe her, but I loaned her the five bucks anyway. Yeah, I know, sometimes I’m not assertive.

Ha-ha-ha-ha, I have to laugh when I think back on that visit. Janice mooching me was a problem, but it was a normal problem; she’d done it before. This was just about the last moment that my life would be “normal.”

****

An hour after lunch, there was another knock at I.T.’s door.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha, we sure are popular today,” I said.

Arnie went to open the door. Walking in were Hamilton Garvey, our Personnel Director, and the most sourpussed old woman I had ever seen. She was wearing a black pantsuit, and had close-cropped gray hair. A flesh-colored hearing aid filled her left ear.

I stepped out of my office and walked up to the pair. “Hey, Hamilton, what’s going on?”

Hamilton’s face showed lots of emotions, none of them happy. “I have been … replaced. This is Cecilia Jones, the new Director of Personnel—”

“It won’t be called ‘Personnel’ anymore,” the woman said. “Now it will be called ‘Human Resources Management.’ ”

Arnie was standing close by now. To Hamilton he said, “Hold on, Olivia Olson fired you?”

The already frowning old woman frowned more deeply. “Call her Ms. Olson, young man. Olivia is disrespectful, and suggests a pattern of sexist behavior on your part.”

Hamilton said, “Well, I sure as hell can call her Olivia. Because number one, I went on two dates with her in college. And two, I’m the guy who PM’d her through Facebook, when I heard she was looking for an investment opportunity. Yessir, I’m the guy who told her, quote, ‘Fleischer Transport is going great. Check us out.’ ”

I said, “And then she fired you? That sucks, Hamilton.”

He shrugged. “New directions, needs new blood, blah-blah-blah. I should’ve seen it coming, she was the same in college. Anyway, my stuff is all in the car, I’m here just to tell you that Personnel—”

“Human Resources Management,” Cecilia the Hag corrected.

“—needs a new keypad combination. Good luck, everyone.”

Then without a word to Cecilia the Hag, or a handshake, Hamilton Garvey walked out of I.T.

I looked at the sourpuss and, keeping my own expression bland, I said, “Now if you’ll just step over here—”

She gestured toward Janice, who was nearby (and wide-eyed), but who hadn’t spoken a word. Sourpuss said, “I would prefer that the young woman handle this task, if at all possible.”

The words were a request. The tone of voice was an order.

Sometimes I’m not assertive. I didn’t object to Janice doing the Chekhov Computer stuff with Sourpuss Cecilia.

The task should have taken only one minute. If Janice were being fumble-fingered, it would have taken two minutes. It took five minutes, with them talking the whole time.

By then I was back in my glass office, so I couldn’t hear what was said. But what I saw reminded me of an New York City police detective questioning an unwilling witness.

****

The time was one minute till five o’clock. I was logging off my computer, Arnie was logging off his computer, and Janice? She was already standing by the front door.

There was a knock at the door. I thought, This is getting ridiculous.

I walked out of my office, calling out, “Nobody leaves till we find out what this is about.”

Janice pouted.

I opened the door, and one of the warehouse guys walked in. I couldn’t guess what he was doing here.

Neither could Arnie. “Steve, what are you doing here?” Arnie had worked two Christmas Breaks in the warehouse when he’d been a college undergraduate, so he knew many of the warehouse guys.

Steve looked at Janice, who was only two feet away. His voice dripping with sarcasm, Steve said, “Miss Wellington, Ah wish to thank you right kindly for what you’ve done.”

Then Steve turned to Arnie. “Ah just been fired. ‘Sexual harassment.’ Because supposedly Ah groped her ass.”

“Shit!” Arnie said. “Thanks a lot, Janice.”

“Guys, I didn’t say Steve had groped my ass,” Janice said. “I specifically said he ‘patted’ my ass. And I told Ms. Jones that this was at the Christmas party, over two years ago, and we were both drunk at the time.”

Steve said, “Whichever word you used when you tattled, Ah’m out of a job.”

By then the clock said 5:01. I said, “Let’s go home, people.”

By then I wanted above all, just to get away from all the melodrama.

Chapter 2

Something New On The Internet

Monday Evening

I hate the smell of cigarettes, so I don’t smoke cigarettes. I think cigars are ridiculous, every possible way. But I’ve liked the taste and the smell of pipe smoke, ever since I started smoking a pipe during college poker games.

So once I’d arrived home, changed clothes, and had poured me some soda from the fridge, I lighted my pipe. Ahh.

God, what a day. I needed to smoke my pipe as I fixed myself dinner (translation: as I nuked some ostrich pot pies from Discontinued Den).

After I ate and rinsed off my dishes, I got on my laptop and played with the internet. Eventually I visited the pirated-files discussion website, FreeAndUncontrolled.ky. It was F&U that had first recommended the game show “¡Viva Argentina!”, which is now my favorite TV show. And I watch episodes of it for free!

(Yes, the things that “¡Viva Argentina!” has contestants doing are silly. But mainly I enjoy watching the show because the spokesmodel, Maria Anna, is so hot. Plus, Maria Anna doesn’t speak much, but what she does say is, once I pause the video and translate the closed-captioning, absolutely hilarious.)

Anyway, eventually I went to the F&U forum called “Hot Topics,” which I knew would certainly be interesting. The most recent posting was a debate about the man shown banging a woman in a hotel room in a pirated video; was he really North Korea’s Rot Kim Chee?

Then, reading down the thread list, I saw this thread: “DIY HYPNO-TALKER—real deal or fake?”

Hold on, what? I thought. I clicked the link for that thread—

SverigeCowboy255: This soon ago went up. Does anyone know anything about a “do-it-yourself hypno-talker” or VietVetElecEngnr51?

NigelFrBrighton: Never heard of either of them. Sounds dodgy.

[two Chinese characters]: Baidu and Google know nothing.

MusashiLives: Has anyone downloaded the ZIP file? It is nice if it works.

ILuvPonies: It would also be nice if Nigerian banks would send me millions of dollars, but I’m not going to give out my bank-account details.

LionRoar925667: Why do you say bad to Nigeria?

The thread had many more posts, but all the comments looked like variations on How stupid does this guy think we are? So far as I could tell, nobody had bothered to even download the ZIP file, much less try to build the thing.

Which was too bad. Reading somebody’s report on this “hypno-talker” would have added some entertainment to my stressful day.

EDIT: Added 2013.09.25—

Buy Hypno-Talker’s First Download (Hypno-Talkers Of Zlar-2) now! You know you want to.

Kindle

First Look At FIRST DOWNLOAD Cover

Cover art rendered by Doug Sturk a.k.a. Sturkwurk

Take a look at the woman in the gray. She’s a brunette, with hair in a bun (though in this picture, you can’t really tell that). She’s wearing pearl earrings; her skirt goes below her knees; and most noticeably, she’s skinny, with a flat chest. Does she remind you of anyone? Like, for instance, a cartoon character?

Not much else to report since my last blog entry, except that there’s something odd about how I’m writing this story.

Normally, I write the porn parts first. Then after so many pages, I tell myself, “Okay, time to get serious,” and I start creating plot elements.

(For those of you who’ve read Three More Wishes: The story shifts from porn to plot starting with the last four paragraphs of Ch. 29.)

But this story, “The Hypno-Talker’s First Download,” is the second story in the “Hypno-Talkers Of Zlar” series; and it does at least as much as the first story, to set up that series. So I’ve had to do a lot of world-building and plotting.

But now, after having written twelve thousand words of carefully thought out conflict, action, suspense, and world-building, now it’s time for the fun stuff!

I’ve Begun My Second HYPNO-TALKER OF ZLAR Story

I don’t have a cover blurb yet, and I don’t have cover art yet; it’s still too early.

To remind you: At the end of The Hypno-Talker Of Zlar, for reasons that are explained in that story, Kevin MacDonald uploads all kinds of information about the hypno-talker to rogue websites that the United States Government can’t threaten or boss around.

Okay, fine, now the information is available. But is it believed?

Imagine if you went to The Pirate Bay and you read about something like this. What would be your reaction? Likely it would be “Oh, yeah? If this thing were real, it’d be all over the news, right? The guy who uploaded this is a liar, and he thinks we’re stupid. What a shithead!”

But someone will be the first to download the hypno-talker, build it, work it, and report back, “Holy shit, it works!” Then the stampede will happen.

But that first guy to download and report back, what’s his story? Is he bold, or horny, or desperate, or what? In First Download, I’ll answer that story question.

But wait, First Download will come with an added bonus!

To explain, let me back up a little bit. In Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie, I have two characters who are evil twins. I’m pleased with myself that instead of giving them boring “regular” twin names—Karen and Sharon, Sherry and Terri—I gave them the evil-twin names of Almira and Elvira. The name Elvira you probably recognize, as the name of the trashy-looking, over-the-top “Mistress of the Dark,” but how is Almira an evil-twin name? Well, in that famous 1939 movie, Auntie Em at one point addresses Miss Gulch as “Almira Gulch.” Once I named an evil twin after Miss Gulch, I started dropping in other connections between the Wicked Witch Of The West and Almira LeClerc.

Anyway, back to First Download. I’m having fun connecting my story hero with a cartoon character. That cartoon character is famous enough that I guarantee that you can see his face in your local supermarket (at least in the USA). He’s also famous enough that, even if you haven’t watched any of his cartoons, you’ve heard about his antics.

But First Download is more than an extended in-joke. There will be a real story there, even if you don’t get the cartoon references or if you dislike the cartoon character.

More details as they become available.

THREE MORE WISHES: I Fixed The Picture That Was Bugging Me

Virgilia (a stripper in Marvin’s harem) watches as Marvin is magically attacked. Cropped image. Cover art and all interior art by Commotion22

Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie has four full-color illustrations inside. The fourth illustration, in Chapter 42, has bothered me since before I published the book. Chapter 42 mentions green fireballs, and I imagined green fireballs, but I couldn’t figure out a way to show green fireballs. But two weeks ago, I figured out a way. Revising the image took lots of careful photoshopping, so it was time-consuming, but now it’s done. The “new” version of Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie has been uploaded to Amazon and Kobo.

You can see (a piece of) the revised fourth illustration above.

In related news, Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie now has five customer reviews on Amazon USA. 3MW‘s average rating: 4.8 stars. Whoo-hoo!

Buy Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie now! You know you want to.

As I said, this book has four full-color illustrations inside.

THREE MORE WISHES—First Three Chapters FREE

Kindle

Kobo EPUB

NOOK EPUB

God Entertain The Queen!

Up till now, my books have been available only through Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Recently it was brought to my attention that Barnes & Noble, though they have a UK website, for some reason don’t sell at that site all the books that are on their USA site. None of my books, to be more specific, can be bought through Barnes & Noble’s UK website. As for countries other than USA and UK, Barnes & Noble doesn’t sell to you. Period.

Amazon, meanwhile, only sells ebooks in formats that can be read on a Kindle, and then only in the countries where Amazon has websites. There is no “Amazon Australia” or “Amazon New Zealand,” for instance.

Here’s why this concerns me. Big Content (the movie industry, the music industry, and Manhattan publishers) love to blather on about filthy stinkin’ pirates.

Well, first of all, if you price your content above its fair market price (as determined by your customers, not your accountants), you’re gonna be pirated; deal with it. And you’ve got nobody to blame but yourself.

But do you know what other content gets pirated? Content where eager (potential) buyers clutching currency are told, “That content is not available in your country.” What, Hollywood, do you really expect people in Country X to wait till six months from now for you to finally offer your overpriced, DRM-locked disk, when the content is for sale in the USA right now?

Anyway, now I’m pleased to announce that four of my five books are available in EPUB format on Kobo, and soon they’ll be available in EPUB format at the iTunes iBookstore. Which means that right now, today, people in Great Britain, Australia, and New Zealand can buy my books in EPUB format; they won’t need to steal them.

Now my books are for sale not just in the English-speaking countries. Thanks to Kobo, if someone in Albania wants to buy one of my stories, now he can.

So to recap, now my novels and stories—

• Names Have Power: Tim’s Magic Voice Makes A Harem

• The Bimborg: Part Nanobot, All Woman

• Captive Of The Barbarian King

• The Hypno-Talker Of Zlar

—are available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo; and will be available soon through the iTunes iBookstore.

Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie will be made available to Kobo and to the iTunes iBookstore soon.

One final comment, and I hope I’m wrong about this. The ebook part of Barnes & Noble is having all kinds of problems that haven’t made it into the newspapers yet. I suspect that six months from now, that part of Barnes & Noble will be closed down, or else will be sold off (most likely to Microsoft). So I’m recommending that EPUB-format book-buyers in the USA buy their ebooks from Kobo in preference to B&N.

THE HYPNO-TALKER OF ZLAR (Short Story) Is Now For Sale

Cover art rendered by Doug Sturk a.k.a. Sturkwurk

Here’s the sales blurb—

Kevin MacDonald, a 62-year-old Vietnam veteran, gets along great with his neighbors Sam and Judy, and their eighteen-year-old daughter Karen. Kevin gets along so well with his neighbors that Judy and Karen are inviting Kevin to a high-school band concert when a UFO lands in front of Kevin’s house.

Aliens come out of the spaceship, then hypnotize and kidnap all the neighborhood women who are between eighteen and forty-five years old. Kevin can’t stop Judy and Karen from walking into the spaceship.

Then the U.S. Army shows up, and kills the aliens—but instead of freeing the still-hypnotized women, the Army takes the women away to Fort Carver.

It’s up to Kevin to rescue his neighbors from the Army. Good luck with that—Kevin is old, out of shape, needs glasses, and has forgotten most of his combat training. The only thing Kevin has going for him: a hand-held hypnotizer-gizmo that belonged to a dead alien.

This is the first story in the Hypno-Talkers Of Zlar series.

Tags: alien invasion, aliens, conspiracy, damsel in distress, erotica, female-female, FF, hypnosis, lesbian, lesbian harem, lesbian to bi, male-female, MC, MF, mind control, oral sex

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: All ebooks by this publisher are free of DRM (Digital Rights Meddling).

Buy The Hypno-Talker Of Zlar now! You know you want to.

First 1-1/2 pages of short story THE HYPNO-TALKER OF ZLAR—FREE

Kindle

Nook EPUB

New story (and series) just started: THE HYPNO-TALKER OF ZLAR

Cover art rendered by Doug Sturk a.k.a. Sturkwurk

Instead of writing another long novel, I’m starting a series of short stories, each of which I’ll publish for three dollars. Eventually I’ll publish all the short stories in an anthology.

Here’s the basic premise:

• Aliens from the planet Zlar land their flying saucer on a suburban street, then kidnap humans for mysterious purposes. To get the humans to go onto their spaceship, the Zlarians use a handheld device that gives subliminal commands to humans.

• To be specific, the Zlarian device takes a digitally recorded spoken command, then digitally changes the pitch of the “voice” to an ultrasonic frequency. (Think “helium balloon on steroids.”) When the ultrasonic command is played back, humans don’t consciously hear the command, but they obey it.

• Kevin is an old man, an electrical engineer who, thanks to a stint in Vietnam, has high-frequency hearing loss. He is unaffected by the Zlarian technology.

• Kevin can’t stop his neighbors, Judy and Karen, from becoming mind-controlled and walking into the flying saucer. (Judy is the MILF blonde on the cover; Karen is the redhead.)

• I’m skipping lots of interesting parts of the story, because I want your three dollars!

• When the dust has settled, Kevin has written a how-to article on how to build your own hypno-talker, from parts you can buy at any well-stocked electronics store; and the article is posted to a pirate site. Anyone, anywhere in the world (provided he knows enough electronics) now can build his own hypno-talker.

Later stories will be about guys who build their own hypno-talker, and what happens when they use it.

CAPTIVE OF THE BARBARIAN KING; Another 5-Star Review for THREE MORE WISHES

Cover art rendered by Doug Sturk a.k.a. Sturkwurk

A long time ago, I wrote an erotic story for my then-fiancée. How long ago? Well, the president at the time was a Republican.

Anyway, I wrote that short story to push my fiancée’s buttons, and to get her hot when she read my story.

Well, my story big-time aroused her when she read it. Which amazed me at the time; it was the first time I’d seen that my writing had power to affect people.

But that was a long time ago, and life goes on. Eventually the story wound up as another forgotten file on my hard drive.

Last week, I was working on something else, and I came across the story. I read it—and damn if it wasn’t sexy and hot still!

So I decided to update it, and put it up for sale.

Now it’s for sale as a Kindle and Nook ebook, Captive Of The Barbarian King. For only three bucks—such a deal.

This is a big departure for me. I normally don’t try to write women’s erotica, for the same reason I don’t try to write “Literature” or legal thrillers: I lack a major credential to convince a potential buyer that I know how to write the story well.

But also, romance fiction normally is a part of fiction that doesn’t interest me. Two or three times in my life, I’ve picked up a romance novel and tried to read it; I’ve never read more than a page and a half in the entire book. The reason is that the hero in a romance novel never acts like any man I’ve ever met in the real world. By the same token, if I’m forced to watch a daytime serial, I find the soap commercials more interesting than the soap opera. And the commercials are more believable!

Again, normally I have no interest in writing women’s erotica. But way back when, I tried my damnedest to write the story that my fiancée would like. Every thing she found sexy, I found a way to put into the story. And with only minor edits, that same story is available for you to buy.

Here’s the blurb that is running on Amazon and bn.com for Captive Of The Barbarian King:

This is sensuous fiction told in second-person (you). An almost-virgin is captured by a sexy foreign king, and her future hangs on how well she pleasures him in bed that first night. But first, for his own reasons, the king spends much time pleasuring her.

The beginning of the 3,555-word story:

The battle had been a long one, and the men of your village had fought bravely. Yet in the end, the heroes lay just as dead as the cowards. Pigs, goats, and chickens were taken away by my victorious army. Gold, silver, and jewels were looted. Houses were torched; the sizzling sound filled your ears, and the black, choking smoke cooked your lungs. Then you and the other young women were rounded up like cattle.

It was then that you saw me. I rode up astride my stallion, the ruler of the victorious army. There was blood on my chain-mail armor; none of that blood was mine. My helmet gleamed in the sun, especially its golden trim.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I wrote this a long time ago for my then-fiancée.

Tags: alpha male, barbarian, captive, captured, erotic suspense, erotica, fantasy, female submissive, foreplay, harem, king, male dominant, maledom, male-female sex, MF sex, submissive female

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: All ebooks by this publisher are free of DRM (Digital Rights Meddling).

Cover art rendered by Commotion22

Yesterday some nice person gave a five-star review of Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie. This makes three five-star reviews for Three More Wishes. Discovering this third five-star review got me grinning yesterday for several hours.

Folks, if you have read one of my stories and you really enjoyed it, I would muchly appreciate it if you were to give me a good review. Go to that book’s page on Amazon or Barnes & Noble, and write the review in your own words. Not only will you be helping me, but you’ll be helping other bookbuyers.

EDIT: Added 2013.05.03—
So buy the books! You know you want to.

Captive Of the Barbarian King

Kindle

NOOK EPUB

Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie

Kindle

NOOK EPUB