Adventures in Self-Publishing: There’s Gonna Be A New Marshall Conrad Novel

It’s been in the back of my mind for a while now but since self-publishing MARSHALL CONRAD – A SUPERHERO TALE I’ve been fairly blown away by the fact that it’s been selling.

(Like I said back in August … I  have no idea why it’s selling. And it’s still selling!)

So far, it’s been in and out of the top 100 in superhero fiction since June and in the top 100 for Dark Fantasy at least once or twice a month. I’ve been getting emails from folks wanting a second book and I already started one four years ago but poor sales made me shelve it.

Here’s the cover for DARK BARGAINS – the second in the Marshall Conrad series.

He’s just saved Greenfield USA from all hell breaking loose during the summer solstice … you’d think a middle-aged superhero might get a well-earned rest. Something has been hunting Greenfield’s children and it’s not entirely human. It plans on killing them too unless Marshall Conrad carries out five dirty deeds that will guarantee he winds up on the hit list for superheroes all over America. 

Look for it in July 2015.

And here’s a small excerpt:

I grabbed Walter by the scruff of his flabby neck and ran like hell as he let out a wail in protest. “Stupid freaking cat,” I spat as I glanced over my left shoulder only to see the pair of smoldering red eyes cutting through the blackness of the pine forest. Walter wasn’t helping any as he dug his claws into my chest, making me curse the day I bought my overweight feline at a garage sale for ten dollars.

The psychic visual I’d received had led me to an abandoned cabin which was supposed to be where I’d find eight- year-old Victoria Jenkins, reported missing by her parents four days ago. The Greenfield Sheriff’s Department was treating her disappearance by following standard protocol, first issuing an Amber Alert within two hours of the time she was supposed to arrive at her after school program. Her mother issued a tearful plea for her safe return at a news conference the following morning and me? I’d spent two straight nights combing the streets from up on high, keeping a vigilant eye out for a red Chevrolet Venture minivan that she was reported to have climbed into by a substitute teacher who assumed it was one of Victoria’s parents picking her up from school.

The stinking migraine, like all the migraines that are a tell-tale sign of a Vanguard’s ability to foresee a crime before it is perpetrated hit me just as Marnie Brindle and I were settling down to watch a chick flick on DVD. (So sue me, I’m expanding my horizons.) It offered two clues: One was the abandoned cabin, and the other was that Victoria would be locked up inside an old refrigerator and left to suffocate. It didn’t tell me about a largely hairless monster with claws that could tear through the magical shield I’d invoked to protect Walter and me, and it sure as hell didn’t say the refrigerator inside the cabin would be empty, or that I’d be rescuing my cat instead of a little girl.

Walter hissed loudly as he dug his claws deeper into my chest; naturally, this only acted to piss off the pit-bull terrier demon thing that was the size of a Volkswagen Beetle. Instead of barking at my stupid cat as it chased us up a winding path, it belched a jet of corrosive dog vomit that nearly took my head off as I dove behind a fallen log.

Evil? You bet! Bent on tearing out my throat? Why not? Such is the life of Greenfield’s only resident meta-human and part-time destroyer supernatural beasties. Like demonic dogs, for example.

The creature crashed through the log, sending splinters of dried wood in every direction and throwing me about thirty feet in the air. Walter the Stupid Cat landed against the trunk of a giant blue spruce and skirted straight up out of harm’s way. Did I mention he’s a treacherous bugger?

“That thing is going to kill us you stupid cat!” I snarled as I landed flat on my back. “Why the hell aren’t my eyes glowing?”

The pit-bull thing gave its head a shake and bared its teeth as it readied to pounce. Shiny threads of saliva dribbled down from its three-inch fangs as a deep, throaty growl sliced through the relative silence of the woods and straight into my bowels. I scrambled behind a large boulder and spotted an opening in the forest canopy where I could take to the skies. The pit-bull let out a mind-numbing howl that I could feel in my fillings as it charged.

Of course I was going to cut and run; I might look like an idiot most days, but I have the good enough sense not to duke it out with giant, hairless K-9’s on their own turf. I’d have a better shot at taking the beast down from the sky.

The creature leaped into the air and snapped at my boot heels just as I pushed off the ground. “Not so tough now, huh, Fido?” I shouted as I floated to a safe distance.

It blinked a couple of times, and then it let out a loud sneeze. Its crimson eyes narrowed as it coiled back on a pair of rear legs that glistened in the moonlight. And that’s when the unexpected happened. The demon launched its body off the ground and straight at me. I pushed higher to avoid having one of my legs ripped off, and then gravity decided to play a trick on me. Instead of falling back to the earth, the creature continued its ascent. The damned thing could fly.

“Walter!” I shrieked, as the fat fur ball dove into my arms. I clenched my teeth and shot into the clear black sky like a rocket. I didn’t even bother to look behind me this time, you know, because I could hear the demon cutting through the wind current behind me. Oh, and it let fly with another corrosive hork of dog vomit.