A Couple Books To Definitely Check Out

 So I know it's been a while. I've been promoting my debut novel Dreaming available now in both paperback and E-reader formats But I wanted to also give a shout out about another book you should definitely check out! It's Broken Boys Beyond Friendships by Dak Kopec. Our paths crossed in that great big Twitterverse out there. He's a funny guy with a lot of heart who really cares about other humans. I was glad to get to know him on Twitter. You can get to know him and his emotionally charged book by clicking this link. So no excuses now about having nothing good to read ;)

Cheers!

Blue Heart

        I walked absentmindedly along the cobblestone. Love had been so cruel to me I half expected to hear the tinkle of the shattered pieces of my heart clinking around in my chest. Instead my ears picked up the noise of cars as they whizzed by me on the street. The sound mocked me for it reminded me of the waves which crash along a shoreline.

        Our last trip together was to the beach. We walked hand in hand along the coast on our final night there. Aside from the moon which occasionally peeked out from behind clouds it was just us alone in the darkness. We hadn’t needed to see each other. The touch of warm skin as our hands pressed into each other’s was enough. It let us know we were together. Two souls which in the moment existed as one. We seemed so inseparable and so invincible that night. 

       Now six months later I walked this street by my lonesome. Love was nothing but a memory which receded faster than those waves had receded from the beach we were once on. My heart a black chasm deeper and darker than the ocean was that night. 

        I let out a heavy sight as I forced my mind back to the present surroundings. I glanced up and noticed a bookstore. One of those relics from an era before Amazon which you could still come across on quaint streets, such as one I found myself taking a stroll along in a vain attempt to ease my pain. I thought perhaps inside such a place awaited a story to distract my thoughts. A twenty minute respite seemed like a welcomed oasis in the vacant desert I found myself in. 

       Without too much hope I entered the establishment. The place was small and seemed claustrophobic with books cluttering every corner. It gave the impression of someone’s yard sale, rather than a business. The few people who browsed tried to avoid bumping into one another. I reluctantly joined the fray.

       As I scanned the titles nothing really jumped out to my weary mind. I knew I didn’t want romance, wanted that less than I wanted a root canal. The sci-fi seemed unimportant and repelled me in some peculiar way. I had usually been a fan of thrillers and horror but somehow it seemed heavy and unappetizing in the moment. As I was about to leave, my eyes landed on a small plain navy colored book with silver letters etched onto the spine. They spelled out the words: The Blue Book. It rang truer for me than much had recently. I reached for it and just as my hand was about to grasp the tome it collided with another hand. 

        “Oh sorry,” the owner of the other hand said. She had long black hair and milky white skin. Her dainty face curled up in a sheepish smile as we stared at one another.

        “No, it’s okay. You can take the book,” I said.

        “You got to it first.”

        “Only by a millisecond.”

        “Someone just had mentioned it to me. I was just curious.”

        “Nobody mentioned it to me. I was just drawn to the title.”

        She gestured toward the book which still sat unclaimed on the shelf. “I insist. If it’s meant to be I’m sure I’ll find it elsewhere.”

        We seemed to be caught in a polite statement. So I offered a way out. “Why don’t you tell me what’s it about. Maybe I won’t be interested.”

        “Oh it’s an old out of print book but its supposed to be very uplifting. It’s all about trusting we deserve love and happiness.”

         I tried to stifle a scoff but it came out as a snort. “I don’t feel very deserving of either of those things.”

        “Why not? You seem like a nice enough person.”

        “Let’s just say I’m a hard luck case.”

        “All the more reason you need the book.”

        “Why do you want it?”

        She shrugged. “Guess I’ve just had a hard time trusting in life lately.”

        “See you know life just knocks us down for shits and giggles.”

        She laughed and I had to smile because she did. “Seems we both need it. What’s your beef with life at the moment?” She asked. 

        “Chase after the wrong romantic partners for starters.”

        “You like your job?”

        “Yea, it’s alright.”

        “You’re one up on me then,” she giggled and again oddly I found myself smiling once more.

        “You get along with your family?” I asked.

        She smirked. “They’re alright.”

        “Then we’re even.” I also smirked as we both acknowledged the joke. “What do you do when not being miserable?” I inquired.

        “Something out doors usually. You like outdoorsy stuff?”

        I nodded my head and smiled. “Yea, nature’s alright.”

        She took a pen out of her purse and grabbed the book off the shelf. She flipped open the front cover and scribbled something I couldn’t quite make out. She closed it and thrusted it into my hands. “This was meant for you.”

        I furrowed my brow. “What about you?”

        “If you feel like it after reading it you can lend it to me.”

        “How will I find you?”

        She winked. “You will if it’s meant to be.” 

        I watched her walk out. After she disappeared in the street outside I glanced at the inside cover of the blue book in my hands. A phone number was written under the name Jessica. I looked back up at the front store window and shook my head. I went to put the book back on the shelf but my hand wouldn’t comply. Instead I made my way with it to the cashier. 

New Neighbors

     Harry pulled onto his small town street as he sung along to the 90's mix blaring in his car. As he neared his destination he couldn't help but let out a groan at the sight of a moving truck parked in the driveway of the house next to his own. "New neighbors," he thought with cynicism. "Great. They better not be the nosy type who gets all up in everyone's business." Harry had liked having the house next door unoccupied. There were woods on the other side of him and in the back. It was about as secluded as you could get for modest suburbia. 

    He didn't like associating with people he didn't know. Harry believed you chose your friends not based on house adjacent circumstances. He pulled up to his own home and tried to keep his head low as he made his way from his car to the front door. "Hi there!" A shrill voice rang out just as he had put the key in the lock.

    Harry rolled his eyes. "I was so close," he said under his breath. He turned and saw a tall lean woman with short black hair waving at him, her mouth one big toothy smile. Behind her was a thick gentleman with rippling biceps, long shaggy hair and a beard to match. 

    "Looks like we're your new neighbors," said the woman cheerily. "I'm Wanda Werenkle and this is my husband Lenny."

    "Uh, hi, I'm Harry."

    "Have you lived here long?" Lenny asked.

    Harry shrugged. "Almost three years."

    "Is it a nice neighborhood?" Wanda then added, "Looks quite and peaceful." 

    "Yea, it's alright. Look I gotta hop on a zoom so..."

    Lenny held up his hand to acknowledge Harry's excuse. "Say no more."

    "We'll be seeing plenty of each other I'm sure," Wanda said. Harry forced a polite smile and then quickly ducked into his home.

    He tried to avoid his new neighbors the entire next week and was largely successful, except for a night when he had a bad blind date. It was his tenth lousy date in a row and he was so frustrated with his luck that he made the mistake of not checking to ensure the coast was clear before getting out of his car. 

    Lenny spotted him and introduced his cousin Tim who was in town visiting. "Just as long as kids don't show up," Harry thought as he made a flimsy excuse to dash into his house.

    Then one night not too long after that Harry was awoken by the sound of a wolf's howl. It was then followed by barking. "Someone obviously forgot to take their dog in for the night," Harry thought to himself bitterly as he turned over with the pillow around his ears. 

    As he tried to go back to sleep he heard a booming roar. He sat straight up in bed. "What the hell," he exclaimed. He then heard a screech. At first, he thought it was an owl but then he remembered owls were silent hunters. He heard the roar again and sprang out of his bed.

    He looked out the window but the street was deserted. He heard another howl. It came from the new neighbor's house but it appeared dark and empty. Harry then heard a horse neigh followed by the unmistakable oink of a pig. "They're keeping livestock in that house, now I got them," Harry said with elation. "I better confirm it. They'll obviously know it was me if I call the cops. If I'm wrong things will just get even more awkward."

    He put on his sneakers and though a hoodie over his head. He then stealthily crept over the property line and stood on some garbage cans to the side of the house in order to get a look through the window. He crinkled his brow as he peered inside. It looked empty. The only sign of activity was some faint light outlining a door.

    "You here for the party?" The voice caught Harry so off guard he fell off the trashcans. But the complete shock didn't settle in till he got a look at the source of the voice. Standing before Harry was what could only be described as a pig man. "Hi! I'm Paul. Come on the party is this way." The pig man walked so casually to the back of the house that Harry in his stupefied state could do nothing but follow. 

    Paul opened the storm doors around back and allowed Harry to walk into the basement. The sight that greeted Harry was incomprehensible. All over the basement were all sorts of animal-like humanoids mingling. "Is this a furry party?"

    "Ha!" Paul's belly shook with a boisterous chuckle. "Furries wish they were us. We are all weres, of course."

    "Weres?"

    A were-tiger walked up to Harry and enthusiastically said, "Hey Harry! I didn't know you were a were."

    "What? Do I know you?"

    "It's me Tim. Lenny introduced us." The smile faded from Tim's face. "Oh crap. You're not a were are you? I better get Wanda and Lenny." The were-tiger ran off.

    "What's going on here?" Harry mumbled.

    "It's a full moon. Duh," Paul said like Harry asked the stupidest question ever uttered.  He then pumped his hooves in the air and started oinking as he went to join the others. 

    A were-wolf and were-lion then came up to Harry with concern on their furry faces. "Harry!" The were-wolf exclaimed, "We were going to try and explain it to you but we could never get you to sit still for a conversation."

    "Wanda?" Harry turned to the were-lion. "Lenny?"

    "Please don't report us. We're not evil. We're just in touch with our wild side," Wanda explained.

    "You're telling me I'm living next to a were-wolf and a--?"

    "Were-lion," Lenny said finishing Harry's sentence for him.

    "I didn't even know there was such a thing as a were-lion."

    "Oh yea. There's were's for every creature. Flamingo, elephant, marmoset, you name it," said Wanda.

    "So you cool with this?" Lenny asked.

    "Am I cool with this?" Harry could no longer contain himself. "How do you expect me to be..." He trailed off when a beautiful woman walked by and met his eyes with her own. She licked her lips seductively using her serpentine tongue and then walked off giving Harry a wink. "Uh, whose that?"

    "Who? Her? That's Selena. She's a were-snake," Wanda answered.

    "Is she single?"

    "Yea. As far as I know," replied Lenny.

    Harry cocked his head to one side and shrugged. "Then I'm cool with it." He grabbed two beers from the cooler next to him and followed after Selena.

Nightmare Morning

     My head was pounding. Thump, thump it went over and over again. Too much booze the night before. First time in Vegas, what can I say? I tried to fall back asleep. I was having a dream with that pretty bartender who kept the rum and cokes coming last night after my run at the Blackjack table. 

    The thumping wouldn't stop. It was a repetitive marching drum which was out of rhythm. I squeezed the pillow around my head starting to regret those last two rum and cokes. Definitely regretted the shot of tequila. 

    Suddenly it dawned on me, the thumping had gotten softer. I sat up in bed and realized that in addition to my head someone was pounding on my door. "Go away!" I yelled. Lousy drunks, I thought. 

    When I went to lay back down I noticed my hands had a sticky residue on them. I strained my bleary eyes to see that it was blood. I jumped out of the covers frantically. There was blood all over me but in my panic I couldn't make out a wound. I threw the bed covers off and my heart jumped into my throat as my breath froze in place. In the bed were animal corpses. Mangled bones and fur in a pool of murky red sludge. 

    Before my mind could even form the first question the sound of wood splintering slammed into my ears. I whipped around to see the blade of an ax sticking through my door. I began to dramatically regret staying in this shit hole of a motel instead of springing for a room on the strip.

    Self-preservation must have taken over. I remembered the alcohol I had purchased sitting on the desk. It was for just in case I met some people who wanted to continue the party in my room. It was Vegas after all. The Malibu rum was too hard to shatter but the Disaronno was perfect. As the ax came down on the door again, I grabbed for the bottle and smashed it on the desk. The third ax blow came and created a hole big enough for a head to fit through. But it was also big enough for my arm and my newly constructed weapon. 

    I summoned every last ounce of courage and like some kind of cheesy action hero I let out a bravado yell and charged the door. I shoved the jagged remains of the bottle through the hole. I didn't feel resistance or the warmth of blood. Instead I heard someone shout profanity and then a different voice scream, "Cut! Cut! Everyone cut!"

    I stumbled back confused as the door opened. A guy with a walkie and a clipboard stood there wearing a scowl. "Whoa, who the fuck are you?" He brought the walkie to his mouth. "We got some nut with a broken bottle in here! Who locked down the set? I'm gonna have their ass!" 

    He stormed off and a woman also with a clipboard and walkie replaced him. She shouted in her walkie, "Can I get a check on the damn room number?"

    "What's going on?" I asked wearily. 

    The woman shot dagger eyes at me. "That's what I'd like to know. What are you doing on the set of It's Revenge?"

    My eyes fluttered in exasperation as I tried to comprehend the situation. "Set of It's Revenge," I muttered.

    "Yea, the first installment of the Stephen King Verse," she answered like I was the moron. 

    I rolled my eyes, snatched my bag and the bottle of rum and began walking back to the strip. This was why I dropped out of film school and took up card counting, I thought as I opened the rum and took a swig. 

The Stray

     My footsteps echoed in-between the hollow mountains of the city. The moon had been dancing across the sky for some time so the streets were deserted. The only feet that shuffled along the cold cement belonged to those that had the light burn their retinas when the bars announced closing time. 

    I was among them. The back of my throat still burned from the rum. I glanced up and saw a familiar sign above a doorway. I hadn't realized I had walked by our favorite restaurant. Must have been force of habit. My stomach churned. Probably just due to the alcohol that filled it but I still shoved my face down into the turned up collar of my coat, all the same. 

    I quickened my pace. I wanted to make sure I got back home while I still had enough booze swimming in my veins to pass out. After all, I wasn't sure how much was in the bottle in the cabinet above my sink. I felt the wet coolness of rain drops on the back of my neck. The sensation blared, shattering the fog in my head. Instantly my senses woke back up much to my chagrin. 

    A faint sound drifted toward my ears but I shrugged my shoulders and kept on walking. The sound came again louder and with more demand. Still I paid it no heed until it became such a presence that the anonymous oblivion I wallowed in was lost. 

    I turned my head with a sharp swivel and saw a fluffy feline as black as my soul. "Scat," I muttered. The cat let out a forlorn mew. The creature wore no collar so I assumed a stray but the coat of fur was exquisite which made me less sure of my assumption. Either way, I had no business with persons anymore, feline or otherwise. I continued my trek.

    The pathetic meow came again. This time I came to an abrupt stop and spun around. "Get lost! I'm a loner, can't you see that's my lot. Find someone else who has a shred of hope to cling to." I began my solitary walk once more. I heard the calls behind me continue but it didn't matter. I was almost back to the walls which passed these days for a space for me to lose consciousness and feel a temporary relief. I climbed the exterior steps as I fumbled in my pocket for my keys. As I heard the mechanical click that served as my only greeting I opened the door to my abode.

    Before I could enter a blur of motion rushed past me. I flipped on the light and as I forced my eyes to adjust through the pain I saw the black fur ball curled up on her favorite pillow. The one she used to clutch to herself during scary movies and rest her beautiful curls on during an afternoon nap. The very pillow I had sewn for her as a gift. The cat seemed as content as she used to be on that soft cushion. 

    At first I wanted to throw the fur ball right off the pillow and out the window. How dare this intruder violate the relics of her. But as I watched gentle and peaceful breathing of the cat the moisture that stung my eyes stopped me. As I closed the door behind me I whispered, "goodnight," before turning off the light.

A Typical Morning

       I saw the vultures in the morning mist. They stood on the grass, wings spread, trying to melt the ice which kept them from taking flight in the heavens above. I kicked a solitary stick that lay on the sidewalk as I made my way to the entrance of the darkened building to start my work day. The familiar click greeted my eardrums as the door granted me access to my tedious daily affairs. Without any noticeable conscious thought I disarmed the alarm and began turning on the lights. 

        In the new illumination that flooded the corridors an unfamiliar sight sprang me out of my robotic movements. There in the middle of the floor was a glue trap. Its tented cardboard hid its contents but its mysterious relocation from the corner against the wall already told me what I would find. When I bent down and peered inside, two shiny black pebbles met mine. A twitch of the whiskers let me know the rodent still lived, despite being completely immobilized by the adhesive. We stared at one another, both frozen in time and space. 

        The means may have been different but we found ourselves stuck. The rat stuck by a chemical compound. I, myself stuck by a compound of circumstances, a choice here, a missed opportunity there. Life had led each of us to a point that felt utterly futile. The empathy between us burned like an acid. An acid unable to free either of us but a burning acid none the less.

        I straightened and marched to the shed out back. I grabbed hold of a shovel and strode back to the glue trap. A moment of guilt came over me but I pushed it down just as quickly as it had risen up. I scooped up the trap with the shovel and carried it out back to the woods. I laid the sticky cardboard on the cold unforgiving earth, raised the shovel and froze like a statue carved in marble. My jaw tensed to stifle my guttural cry. The shovel fell on the trap. The sound of impact ricocheted off the trees shattering the silence of the waking day. Again and again the shovel smashed the ground till my arms ached. 

        I stood there for a long drag of time catching my breath with the morning chill against my flushed cheeks. Finally, I drove the shovel into the ground, scraped the bloody piece of pulverized cardboard into the hole and piled dirt on top. I gave it a firm pat with the shovel and walked back to the building to start my useless day. Right before I went inside I happened to notice the vultures had taken flight. They circled above. I wondered if they circled for the rat or for me. 

The Adventures of Superdude

        Superdude flew over the city that night on his normal patrol. Suddenly he heard a scream from the streets below. Quickly he dove into action. In an alleyway, he saw a burly figure running with a purple handbag clutched tight to his side.

        “Stop in the name of truth, justice and dudeliness!” Superdude quickly blocked the mugger’s path. The crook skidded to a halt and immediately did an about-face. Before the criminal could get away Superdude had grabbed him and lifted him off the ground. 

        “Let me go!”

        Superdude chuckled. “You should know better than to commit crime in my city.”

        A voice came from the shadows. “And you should know better then to be lured into a trap.” Dr. Diabolical revealed himself. In his hands he held a strange contraption. Before Superdude could react a metal band shot out of the device and wrapped around the superhero’s neck. Superdude dropped the mugger who proceeded to run off leaving the stolen purse behind. 

         The heroic Superdude tried to break the collar but as he pried he suddenly felt very weak. It only took him a moment to realize what the studs on the collar were made out of. 

        “Buzzkillnite!”

        “Yes,” sneered Dr. Diabolical. “Soon you will be completely immobilized. I will enjoy watching you wither and die.”

        Superdude collapsed to the ground in a heap. It was hopeless, he could barely clench a fist let alone break the collar. 

        “Please, continue to struggle. It makes my triumph so much more enjoyable. I have longed—,” Dr. Diabolical suddenly broke off his rant and let out a scream. “A rat!” He cried as he pointed at the rodent which had wandered into the alley. “Get it away. They’re disease ridden things.”

        “A little too weak at the moment,” Superdude gasped.

        The rat moved closer to Dr. Diabolical and he jumped backwards and threw the device he still had at the small mammal. However, the projectile missed its intended target and the rat once more advanced toward the frightened villain. 

        Dr. Diabolical let out another scream. “Stay away!” The rat only moved with more rapid speed toward the evil genius. The arch foe was left with no choice but to turn and high tail it out of the alley as fast as he could. 

        The rodent then turned as well and scampered over to Superdude who still writhed on the ground in an attempt to stay conscious. The rat proceeded to chew off a piece of the Buzzkillnite from the collar. The small furry creature then carried it in his mouth over to a nearby sewer grate and dropped it in. The rat repeated this process with the remaining pieces of Buzzkillnite. Slowly but surely Superdude regained his strength and shattered the collar.

         “Thank you little fella, you saved me.” Superdude held out his hand to the rat who proceeded to scurry up the arm, until he was perched on Superdude’s shoulder. “You’re my new sidekick. Now what to call you? Maybe Mighty Mouse?” Superdude shook his head back and forth. “No, that sounds silly. How about Ratdude?”

        The  rodent stood on his hind legs and let out a squeak of approval. 

        “Evildoers beware because this city is now under the protection of Superdude and Ratdude,” the hero declared. With that Superdude took to the air with his new partner in crime fighting.