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Showing posts with label GIVE ME STRENGTH. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GIVE ME STRENGTH. Show all posts

Monday, August 20, 2012

BRING ME THE HEAD OF McCORD!


Hear that rumble? It is not an echo. It is a promise.

Some evils never die. They merely wait for us to grow complacent.

The Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia began on this day in 1968.

One young poet, Yevgeny Yevtushenko,
had to protest the invasion of his country else his despair would lead him to suicide.

He wrote “Russian Tanks in Prague," which was picked up immediately on underground radio in Czechoslovakia, making him a hero there and an official target at home:

Tanks are rolling across Prague
in the sunset blood of dawn.
Tanks are rolling across truth,
not a newspaper named Pravda.

Tanks are rolling across the temptation
to live free from the power of clichés.
Tanks are rolling across the soldiers
who sit inside those tanks....

The darkness which spawned those tanks is still there ... waiting, waiting, waiting.

{Oh, the lovely Kathy McKendry interviews me today!
http://imagine-today1.blogspot.com/
Check it out so her visitors don't slump because of me.}


Now, back to my small voice asking you to help keep my dream alive.


A few of my friends (not a tidal wave, mind you) have emailed me with questions such as:

Why does an undead TEXAS Ranger live in a jazz club in New Orleans?

How did Samuel lose his parents?

How did he get silver hair as a child?

Why does the vampire, Abigail Adams, hate him so?

When will you write another story of Hibbs, the cub with no clue?

What was Victor's and Alice's first Christmas after Katrina like?

What was Blake Adamson, my hero who is the clone of Jesus, like before his orphanage burned?

I answered those questions and another fun one: What if our world was invaded by aliens and it was left to Evil to defend it?

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008ZM9B8M

IN A WORLD OF NIGHTMARE DO LOVE, COURAGE, and LAUGHTER STAND A CHANCE?


SEVEN DARK TALES ANSWER THAT QUESTION



MY FATHER’S GUN


Fifteen year old Samuel McCord takes his first terrible steps down a lifetime of supernatural horror in 1815 West Texas in a tale of loss and redemption.


DARK WATERS


Texas Ranger, Samuel McCord, both saves and damns twelve year old Samuel Clemens while trying to save the boy from a creature whose home is the realm of nightmare.


MARY CHRISTMAS


When the orphan, Blake Adamson, runs away from the orphanage only to meet the ghost of Elvis and the very real Lucifer, he realizes you can’t run from your past.


LIES THAT LOCUST TELL


A fallen angel awakens in a British asylum without any memory of getting there. Worse, the asylum is being run by aliens experimenting with the inmates. What would happen if Earth was invaded, and it was left to Evil to defend it?


A DOWN HOME CHRISTMAS


Victor Standish’s and Alice Wentworth’s first Christmas together looks to be their last as all the demons of the haunted French Quarter are at their heels. What can the ghost of a Spanish Inquisition priest do to help them?


THE RIVER FACE


In a Native American tale of myth and legend, Hibbs, the cub with no clue, is taught a fearful lesson of spirit from the mysterious Turquoise Woman.


BRING ME THE HEAD OF McCORD!


Why did an undead TEXAS Ranger decide to live in New Orleans? Why does the vampire, Abigail Adams, hate Samuel so? This haunting tale answers those questions. But sometimes answers do not give peace.

Only 99 cents for 137 pages and 8 beautiful illustrations by the artistry of Leonora Roy!


Wednesday, July 14, 2010

APOLOGIES FROM GIL'S ALL FRIGHT DINER


Somehow with my mangled finger, I also mangled my sidebar to go to the bottom of my blog!

I am so low down with my high tech that the only way to restore my sidebar was to delete my post then re-post it.

But I lost all my friends' comments!!!

Elu is shaking his head at me, muttering, "Little Lakota embarass his ancestors by being smuck {he used an Apache name, but I translated it loosely for the ladies out there ..

it had something to do with a certain part of my anatomy changing places with another.}

I worked 11 hours straight again tonight, so my brain is a bit more rusty than usual. Gypsy just snickered. But Words Crafter, Donna, Raquel, and the one friend whose name escapes my weary brain but whose autographed copy of GIL'S ALL FRIGHT DINER I covet ... to you all I deeply apologize. Can you forgive me? Hope so.

Now for an instant replay of my post :

GIL'S ALL FRIGHT DINER.

On my cross-country travels, I certainly have stopped at my share of ... unique diners ... with clientel that bordered on DELIVERANCE meets THE ROAD WARRIOR

A. Lee Martinez has written a book that is part Christopher Moore and part SUPERNATURAL. Read it and you'll find yourself going out to find all the titles Mr. Martinez has written.

GIL'S ALL FRIGHT DINER is where H. P. Lovecraft meets his match in a trucker werewolf and a scientologist vampire.

Something Evil (that's with a capital E) is stalking Gil's All Night Diner in Martinez's terrific debut, a comic horror-fantasy novel.

Heading the delightfully eccentric cast are buddies Earl (aka the Earl of Vampires) and Duke (aka the Duke of Werewolves), who are looking for a place to eat as they drive through Rockwood, a small desert community besieged by cosmically weird stuff.

Soon after stopping at Gil's Diner, the pair help Loretta, the formidable owner-operator, fend off a zombie attack. Determined to do the right thing, the two supernatural misfits take on further challenges, such as trying to prevent Tammy (aka Mistress Lilith, Queen of the Night) and her loyal but dumb boyfriend, Chad, from ending the world.

The fast-paced plot is full of memorable incidents (e.g., a ghost and a vampire fall in love; a Magic 8-Ball becomes a message vehicle for trapped spirits, the menace of zombie cows ... you will never again hear "Mooo" in quite the same way) and such wonderful observations as ...

"this whole undead stuff sounds good on paper, but it ain't all it's cracked up to be."

Laughter. A rare commodity in fiction these days.

Despair. Inner pain. Sometimes you look around, and it seems the people all around you are drowning on those things. Sometimes you are one of those people.

We are writers are sometimes the only anchor a reader will have in a dark moment. We must remember that. Give them strength ... the strength that comes from laughter, from another hurting spirit in the dark that stops to help, to listen, to give a damn.
**********************
And a song for that thought (with captions for Indigo and other friends) :