Kiss Me, Kill Me Paranormal Anthology out now

Much like Elvis, I have been taking care of business in a flash, as such:

Remember that time The King exploded out of a Fabergé egg? Yeah. Neither does he, but you can’t deny how fucking awesome it would be if he did.

I haven’t been mounting a comeback tour. I have been finalizing a short story for this anthology.

Head on over to Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Smashwords and check it out. It’s only $0.99 and the proceeds go to GreaterGood.org.

You’ll find shapeshifters, vampires, superheroes, demons, faeries, men and women of mystery, and leprechauns!

Okay, I’m lying about the leprechauns, but these stories contain all those other things and then some, all for less than the cost of a single can of Guinness.

Voyage into the realm of the paranormal with this nine author short story anthology. Sink your teeth into:

A Ghoulish Valentine by H.P. Mallory:

Dulcie O’Neil can’t help her attraction to Knight Vander, much though she tries to fight her feelings. When she begrudgingly accepts his invitation to dinner and a movie, the last thing she expects is that she’ll be defending herself against a cemetery full of hungry ghouls and one incredibly sexy man.

Cat Fight by Zoe Winters:

Cat Fight takes place in Zoe Winters’ “PretVerse”. Greta is a cat therian (shifter). She’s been involved with Dayne, a local sorcerer since she sought his protection from her murderous tribe. After a fight, Greta shifts into cat form and refuses to come back out.

Impulse Control by Susan Bischoff:

In the world of the Talent Chronicles, kids born with supernatural powers are taken from their families and forced into government research facilities called State Schools. At one such school, a group of Talents must work together to stop a dangerous experiment that’s already killed two of their peers and threatens others. If they’re caught they face Detention, and Detention at a State School has a whole different meaning.

Wild Passion by Lori Brighton:

James is a treasure hunter intent on collecting a deadly, priceless statue. Then he meets Adelaide, a stubbornly beautiful and mysterious woman who knows more about the statue than she admits. Suddenly, James is tempted to give up everything for the one treasure he can’t seem to own … Adelaide.

A Fairytale Ending by M.T. Murphy:

An unlucky actress discovers that there is no good and bad when it comes to vampires and werewolves, only bad and worse.

Blind Sight by Kait Nolan:

Isla’s ability as a Seer has made her a life-long captive of a paranormal crime lord. Fae assassin, Ransom, offers her a chance at escape, but when she touches his hand she sees only blood, horror, apocalypse. What reason can Ransom have for wanting to rescue her, and can she possibly trust a man who deals in death?

The Sacrifice by Toni LoTempio:

After a chance meeting with the mysterious Alfred Barstow, Jennifer is swept off her feet by his whirlwind courtship of her, so much so that she accepts his proposal of marriage. Leaving her boyfriend Peter behind, she heads off to start a new life in California, unaware there’s more to Alfred than meets the eye – and a sinister plot behind his proposal. The Sacrifice is a story about what happens when the man of your dreams turns out to be your worst nightmare…and then some!

Until the Breaking of the Day by Daniel Arenson:

The Underground. A realm of flame, blood, and knives in the dark.When its prince returns from exile, a young demon girl will learn his secrets.

If You Leave by Stacey Wallace Benefiel:

Despite their devotion to one another, Gabrielle and Jorge have been living separate lives. That is, until Gabrielle’s life ends. Reunited and it feels so…complicated?

Author Interview: Jeremy C. Shipp, Bram Stoker nominee and giant gnome king

How many Bram Stoker Award nominated authors would be willing to subject themselves to thirteen asinine, moronic, borderline psychotic questions from yours truly? I can think of only one: Jeremy C. Shipp.


He is the dark Elvis/giant gnome king of Bizarro fiction and a nice guy to boot. My review of his latest work, Fungus of the Heart is forthcoming. I'll give you a spoiler: it is bizarre and fantastic.

MTM: Welcome, Jeremy. I have many earth-shaking questions, so I'll jump right in before you change your mind.

I have an uneasy truce with the spiders, but I hate leprechauns with every fiber of my appendix. Does this make me a hypocrite?

JCS: I don’t think so. For the most part, spiders are compassionate, trustworthy creatures who’d give you the shirts off their backs, if they weren’t nudists. Leprechauns, on the other hand, steal gold jewelry and fillings from tourists and sell their loot on the black market so that they can buy double rainbow shotguns, which they use to hunt baby manatee angels. Not cool.

MTM: For someone new to Bizarro fiction, such as the writer of this blog, what does one need to know before delving into your stories?

JCS: If you're a fan of Terry Gilliam, Takashi Miike, David Lynch, then you’d most likely enjoy Bizarro fiction. I write bizarre, dark tales with a heart. My tales are funhouse mirror reflections of our own world. And so, the realities I create are familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

MTM: Pick three favorite stories from your own writing. Which one would you eat first and why?

JCS: If we’re talking short stories, three of my favorites are Camp, Boy in the Cabinet, and The Sun Never Rises in the Big City. I’d definitely eat Boy in the Cabinet first, because the story includes mason jars full of fruit preserves and pickled delicacies. And I would refuse to eat Camp, because I’m vegan.

MTM: The title of your new work, Fungus of the Heart, is both sweet and vaguely repulsive. Oddly enough, my wife sometimes uses those same terms to describe me: sweet and vaguely repulsive. Why did you decide upon that as the title?

JCS: I chose Fungus of the Heart, because I find the image to be emotionally evocative and I find the idea to be thematically fitting. Characters throughout the collection have fungi growing in their hearts. My characters suffer from the fungus of loneliness, the fungus of heartbreak, etc.

MTM: You have mentioned in previous interviews concerning your work that Vacation is a map to your brain, Sheep and Wolves is a map to your fears, and Cursed is a map to your heart. Where does Fungus of the Heart fit in that respect and are you worried that someone will use those maps to break in and make a bunch of long distance phone calls while you are away?

JCS: Fungus of the Heart is a map to my relationships. Of course, the relationships in these stories don’t reflect my relationships in a literal sense. Instead, my relationships spawned questions in my mind, which ended up inspiring stories. Some of these questions: how far would I go to save the life of a loved one? What is love without respect? What is true friendship? As for the second part of your question, I’m not too worried about humans breaking in and making long distance phone calls. The attic clowns would probably devour their souls before they could talk for very long.

MTM: Sam Elliott’s wooly mustache or Hugh Jackman’s wolverine lamb chops?

JCS: In a battle to the death, Hugh Jackman’s lamb chops would definitely end up devouring the mustache, as the lamb chops are actually Tasmanian devils.

MTM: What book or books are you reading right now?

JCS: The Kitchen God’s Wife by Amy Tan, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins, and a few others.

MTM: Finish this scene: “Cthulhu, Michael Myers, and Bruce Campbell walk into a bar.”

JCS: Bruce Campbell says, “Why the long face?”
Michael Myers says, “Damn. Don’t tell me I accidentally put on my horse mask again.”
And Cthulhu laughs. Not because he finds this bar situation funny, but because he always laughs a little before destroying a world.

MTM: I like to put a pair of glasses on my Schnauzer and pretend he is James Lipton interviewing me. What are some of your guilty pleasures?

JCS: Too much peanut butter, Taylor Swift music, Project Runway, dressing up as an attic clown and laughing at myself for hours on end.

MTM: One of my favorite profane terms is “fecktwat.” I try to use it every chance I get in my writing. Not coincidentally, I am no longer allowed to contribute to my kids’ school paper. What is your favorite curse word and why?

JCS: My favorite swear words are “holy mackerel!” and “dagnabit!” I love fake swear words that make me feel like an old cartoon character.

MTM: The best way I can describe the stories collected in Fungus of the Heart is to say it feels like I am reading a Salvador Dali painting. Is there ever a time when you are not taking mental notes and giving slow birth to a bizarre or heart warming tale?

JCS: I have a feeling that my subconscious is always coming up with new stories, even when I’m busy canning pickled delicacies or trying to protect baby manatee angels from leprechauns wielding double rainbow shotguns.

MTM: Your novel, Cursed, was nominated for the Bram Stoker award. Congratulations! I picture the ceremony being held in an ancient Romanian castle with at least one hundred Bela Lugosi clones wearing the full Dracula costume in attendance. How accurate is this?

JCS: There were actually only ninety Bela Lugosi clones, and they all had wolverine-style lamb chops. The ceremony was held in an ancient Tasmanian castle. I still don’t understand why.

MTM: Barring some sort of apocalypse or Attic Clown takeover of literature, what is next for you after Fungus of the Heart?

JCS: Strangely enough, my next project is an Attic Clown takeover of literature. I’m also working on my first middle grade fantasy novel, as well as a few other projects. Hopefully next year I’ll be able to start production on my Charles in Charge musical starring Cthulhu as Charles and James Lipton as Buddy.

MTM: There is nothing about your answer that I do not love with all my pancreas.

Big thanks to Jeremy for being a great sport and taking time out of his crazy, honeybee-like schedule for this interview.

Click here for a collection of Jeremy's online short stories, then pick up his latest book, Fungus of the Heart. 

From the author's web page:
Jeremy C. Shipp is the Bram Stoker nominated author of books such as Cursed, Vacation, and Fungus of the Heart. His shorter tales have appeared or are forthcoming in over 50 publications, the likes of Cemetery Dance, ChiZine, Apex Magazine, Pseudopod, and Withersin. Jeremy enjoys living in Southern California in a moderately haunted Victorian farmhouse called Rose Cottage. He lives there with his wife, a couple of mighty cats, and a legion of yard gnomes. The gnomes like him. The clowns living in his attic--not so much.
Feel free to contact Jeremy via email at: chrismatrix@yahoo.com
 

Jeremy as a poorly rendered werewolf.

Halloween movie review: Trick r Treat

 I remember watching the Elm Street films as a kid through covered eyes and plugged ears. The same went for the Friday the 13th and Halloween films. What can I say? I was one brave little dude ... except the exact opposite of that.

Those films each operated on a set of rules. If a character followed the rules, then they might live to the end. If they broke the rules, then they were sure to die in a suitably horrible and cathartic fashion at the hands of the big, scary villain while the audience cheered in one big chorus of  “I told you so!”


Trick r Treat is a throwback to the days before horror movies were synonymous with torture porn. Early on, we are introduced to Sam. Though he looks like a creepy yet cute little kid out to score candy on Halloween, he is actually the physical embodiment of modern Halloween tradition. If people follow the “rules” of Halloween (respect the jack o’ lantern, check your candy before you eat it, be kind to trick or treaters, etc.) they have nothing to fear. If they don’t, then they suffer the gory consequences.

This film is comprised of five vignettes, each focusing on a different Halloween tradition and a different set of hapless victims. The stories are connected by jovial little Sam. Sometimes he takes an active role and sometimes he simply observes. In either case, the stories all resolve themselves in gruesome, yet satisfying ways that fit well with the rules that are established in the beginning of the movie.

Anna Paquin (X-Men, True Blood - yes, Sookie) as a modern day Red Riding Hood and Brian Cox (of X-Men 2 fame) as a Halloween-hating curmudgeon are the two biggest names in the film. Given that both of these actors are alumni of the X-Men films, it should come as no shock that X-Men and X-Men 2 director Bryan Singer is a producer.

The best word I can use to describe Trick r Treat is FUN. This is one of the most enjoyable horror films I have seen since the werewolf-heavy Dog Soldiers. There are a few bloody/shocking moments, but the overall gore is nowhere near the level of a Saw or Hostel film.

Yep. Trick r Treat relies on setting up genuine suspense rather than throwing dismemberments at you until you cry “uncle.” Since all of the stories are connected, you will want to watch it multiple times just to catch all the breadcrumbs that lead from one story to the next.

Oh yeah … did I mention there just might be a werewolf in the flick? You’ll have to watch to find out.

Spoiler: There is, and it looks fantastic with hardly any CGI.

What? Me? No patience?

Bite me. Then, watch this film.

If you long for the days of a good horror movie that will scare you and still leave a smile on your face at the end, look no farther than Trick r Treat. 

All Hallows: Chapter 1

If you have read my novel, Lucifera's Pet, you may remember that Lucifera became a vampire on October 13, 102 AD. It was 3:30 in the morning to be exact.

Why do I know the exact day and time of a made-up character's conversion to vampire? Because I'm a freak like that.

Just go with it.

To celebrate Lucifera's dark birthday, I am publishing the entire first chapter of my upcoming novella, All Hallows, right here. It is completely raw and unedited. Please read and let me know what you think. Specifically, is it compelling enough to get you to read chapter 2?

All Hallows: Chapter 1


Sophia wanted to die. She prayed for the Lord to call her home every day for the better part of a decade. On a chilly October evening death knocked on her door.

Few who knew the elderly woman would have guessed that she went through life each day hoping it would be her last. She had outlived both her husband and their three children by ten years. The frontier was harsh and life was so very fragile. Except for Sophia’s, it seemed.

She had endured two bouts of influenza that killed more than a dozen people younger than herself in the formerly quiet mining settlement of Deadwood, South Dakota. Every morning she awoke to pain so severe that it took her an hour to work up the strength to get out of bed.

She had just said “amen” for her nightly prayers when she heard the rapping at her door.

Three knocks came in a deep, methodical rhythm. It was precisely how she figured death would sound.

With the pain she usually felt in her joints oddly absent, Sophia slid out from under the covers and put on her housecoat. She took her time walking to the door. There was no need to hurry. Death had been waiting for eighty-nine years. It could wait a little longer.

She placed a hand on the lock, but hesitated. It was well past midnight and all but the rowdiest of outlaws had called it a night. Still, no one would be foolish enough to knock on her door if they planned to rob her. If she screamed people would come.

“Who’s there?” she asked through the closed door.

“You called and I have answered, Sophia.”

The voice that replied was warm and calm. It was the voice of a young woman. Her slight accent was European, but Sophia couldn’t place the country.

She opened the door.

A blast of cool air brought a shudder from the woman. One look at her caller brought another.

The young woman was wearing an extravagant maroon dress, cut lower than it should have been at the top and clinging scandalously to her waist and chest. Her black hair was pulled back in an ornate fashion and cascaded down her body as though she had just arrived for the ball. She was a stunning beauty to be sure, but it was the same beauty that could be found in the eyes of a mountain lioness just before she killed.

“Who are you?” Sophia asked.

“Call me whatever you wish. You know why I am here. It is your time.”

“You are death, then?”

“If you like. Invite me in and I will give you what you seek.”

Sophia hesitated. When presented with promise of the sweet release of death she found herself wavering. Were things really that bad?

Her thoughts drifted to her only friend, Adam. The odd man surely wouldn’t miss an old woman who had lived long past her expiration.

She looked back into the eyes of the girl, fully prepared to tell her to go away. What strange eyes they were. So green that they seemed to glow in the moonlight.

The girl wasn’t real. She couldn’t be.
“Sophia.” A new voice greeted her. This one was deep and masculine. It was so familiar. Sophia turned to find her husband standing beside her. He wasn’t old and worn down as he had been at his death. Instead he was as healthy and youthful as he was shortly after their children had been born.

“Jonathan?”

“It’s me, Sophie. And look.” He stepped to the side revealing two cherubic boys and a beautiful little girl.

“My babies!” Sophia took a step forward with arms outstretched to embrace the husband and children who had left the Earth many years before. Her heart swelled and pounded with joy.

The girl outside smiled.

As Sophia’s hands neared her loved ones, they began to fade. Her husband disappeared and her children dissolved into darkness before her eyes. They were still as dead as they had been these long torturous years.

Sophia looked back at the temptress in the doorway. “Even death wouldn't be that cruel.”

The young woman outside said nothing. The wind blew, rustling the fabric of her dress and her long, black hair. She should have shivered from the cold, but instead she was motionless, as only the dead can be.

Sophia knew she should close the door and pretend that it was all a dream. No good could come from the thing outside. Still, she could smell the tobacco from her husband’s pipe and hear the echoes of her children’s laughter. It had seemed so real.

The two women stared into each other’s eyes in silence. Sophia suddenly found the girl’s enigmatic smile infuriating. The cold began to take its toll and Sophia’s joints started to ache. She stumbled and looked back towards her waiting bed.

The woman outside did not move.

Sophia let out a sigh as the weight of many painful years of courage in the face of harsh life drained from her.

Finally, she spoke. “Come inside, demon. Take me to Hell if that’s what you came for.”

The woman stepped across the threshold. “My name is Lucifera, and life has shown you enough cruelty. I bring you this.”

Sophia’s husband appeared before her again. This time, he walked towards her and took her in his arms. Stunned, she pushed against him, finding that he was flesh and not the apparition from before.

“Oh Jonathan.” Sophia buried her face in his shoulder and wept tears of joy.

She barely noticed the sharp pain in her throat. Her husband rocked her gently in his arms and stroked her hair as the life poured out of her body.

Sophia died happily.

The vampire felt the life leave Sophia’s body but continued to drink. She relaxed her mind, allowing the effort she put into tricking the old woman’s senses to fade away while she savored the last drops of blood.

Human emotions exhibited such distinct flavors. It had been some time since Lucifera had tasted happiness. It was far too sweet for her pallet. She much preferred when her victims died in terror. Fear was both salty and sour, and most delectable. Still, she was a guest in this town and she had to be respectful, at least for the time being.

With only days to go before the ceremony, Lucifera was beginning to like it in Deadwood. She had tried to be a good guest and feed as neatly as possible. The others were far less considerate. Downright sloppy, even. In the grand scheme, it was of little importance. Chance favored the possibility that all of existence would be cast into a void of nothingness in less than a fortnight.

Lucifera placed Sophia in bed and closed the front door on her way out. Impending apocalypse or no, she saw no reason to be uncivilized.

The Evololution of Female Vampires - Guest Blog at Dun Scaith

Female vampires have been around for just as long as their male counterparts in literature and film. Their role has changed immensely over the past two centuries. Today I am taking a look at six of the most memorable female vampires...

Continue reading at Dun Scaith.

Werewolf Week + read my interview at Dun Scaith

Chris Kelly, the mastermind behind independent U.K. publisher Scathach, has declared the week of August 1st through August 7th to be Werewolf Week! Who am I to argue?

Head over to his blog, Dun Scaith, for werewolf goodness. You will also find an interview with your favorite not famous yet but slightly interesting author of werewolfery. Care to guess who it is?


No, not her.


Or him.


Her either.


What? That guy doesn't even write!



I'm talking about me, chowderhead.

Just go read the fucking interview already. :)

Playing in the graveyard

I began writing this as a reply to one of Ziggy Kinsella’s blogs over at The Feckless Goblin. I liked the subject so much that I decided to develop the reply into a blog article of my own as well. Be sure to check out Ziggy’s original post here.

My family has owned a cemetery since the 1800s. As a child, I used to play with my cousins amongst the head stones and dirt mounds over fresh graves. It never occurred to me to be frightened of the cemetery's occupants six feet below.

In elementary school I was one of the weird kids. Being a bit of an outsider, I was never frightened by the classic monsters. I pitied Frankenstein’s monster and thought the Wolfman got a bad rap. And Dracula? Well, Dracula was just plain cool.

When I was eleven years old, a movie about Jack the Ripper came on television one Sunday night. The hook was that this movie would reveal the “true” identity of the killer. I had to beg mom and dad to let me stay up past my bed time to watch the ending. I immediately regretted doing so. In the last scene that I remember, the authorities dragged away a royal physician as he ranted about “killing whores” and slashed at the air with his empty scalpel hand. For some reason, that image was even more disturbing to me than the recreations of the killings themselves.

Later that night I was just settling down to sleep when I caught a glimpse of my open closet. There in the darkness stood Jack the Ripper, brandishing his scalpel and waiting for me to fall asleep. I leapt out of bed and closed the door. I returned to bed and pulled the covers tightly over my head. Five minutes later, the handle clicked and the door glided open with a slow, agonizing squeak.

I knew Jack the Ripper wasn’t really in my closet. I knew my closet doorknob didn’t work well and was prone to popping open. I also knew that the door had squeaked like that for years. That didn’t make it any less terrifying.

What scared me the most about the Jack the Ripper scenario was the fact that there was no discernable motive. It was unexplainable brutality and, no matter what the movie said, they never found out who the killer really was. With most monsters, books, or other scenarios there is some sense of order. The villain is eventually revealed and has some grand scheme in mind. It may be horrible and barbaric, but there is a reason behind his or her heinous actions. 

The Ripper killings show that human beings sometimes do despicable things for no reason at all. For my painfully logical mind, that is far more frightening than playing in the graveyard.

Connect with me below:

Website: http://www.luciferaspet.com

Blog: http://werewolfkibble.blogspot.com/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/WerewolfMike

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Book Review - Twinkle by Dan McGirt

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/10566

Available as a free download above.

Stella and Edmund share a love like no other. Neither an ancient curse nor the painful transition from adolescence to adulthood can quell their passion. Time has finally come for these lovers to cast off the conventions of their respective cultures and be together forever.

Before they can begin their new life of bliss an unwelcome outsider alters their course. In the midst of tragedy an ancient evil stirs, threatening to destroy the quiet town of Twinkle.

Can Stella overcome her fear and become a heroine with the help of a rogue warrior? Will the town of Twinkle crumble or triumph in the face of damnation?

How does that summary grab you?

Is your BS-o-meter going off yet? I hope it is.

Twinkle by Dan McGirt is satire at its best, folks. If you can read through the first three pages without laughing hard enough to cause internal bleeding and/or soil yourself, you should probably stop there. With approximately 16,000 words, it is well worth the small time investment it takes to read through to the end.

McGirt takes on a host of pop culture topics with the kid gloves left in their proper place: on the shelf. The angsty vampire genre receives a ten pound monkey wrench to the gut with hilarious results.

If you have no sense of humor DO NOT READ THIS BOOK.

If you believe politicians truly have our best interests at heart DO NOT READ THIS BOOK.

If you have a weak bladder DO NOT READ THIS BOOK.

If the thought of ridiculously good looking vampire and werewolf kids meeting untimely and unsavory ends bothers you in the least DO NOT READ THIS BOOK.

On the other hand, if you can appreciate a satirical look at the things and people over which we tend to obsess these days, then you might just enjoy Dan McGirt’s foray into the absurd.

Twinkle is easily worth a thousand times the $0 I paid for it.

~M

Note: After I posted this review, Dan has renamed Twinkle to Sara Palin, Vampire Hunter. A lot of the fun for me was discovering that major plot twist as I read, but the book is still a very funny and engaging story.