Showing posts with label Addicted to the Abyss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Addicted to the Abyss. Show all posts

Friday, March 25, 2022

New Horror Books Available by Cassie Carnage!

 Hey Carnage Clan! 

A lot has happened since I've last been on here to post things.

I had another baby, bought a house and am now back to work, writing more kickass horror! 


(Quick note, click or tap the book covers to go to the titles on Amazon. Thanks so much!) 

I am happy to announce that I have 2 horror series being released this year! One is the Sapphic horror Screaming Seas trilogy, that will be out this summer.  

The first book in the series used to be titled PHASE ONE INFECTION. I am breathing new life into the title and rebranding it, plus finishing the cliff hanger with the second book, DEATH TIDE. The third book, ALIEN SHORES, tackles what happens to our world when aliens from the sea take over.






The other is a gay vampire trilogy, starting with DEVOURED. It is an expansion on the serial I posted on here in 2017 titled Addicted to the Abyss. With a lot more romantic tension, vampire violence, evil corporations, and werewolves. 







The Seas are Screaming will be available next week on Amazon. Devoured is currently available to buy. Both will be offered in paperback form in a few months. 


The revised edition of my horror anthology, WE ARE ALL MONSTERS, is also available on kindle and is getting a brand new paperback format as well. 


Sunday, September 13, 2020

Where have you been Cassie?

 


Hi Guys!

I know that it's been quite some time since I've posted on my blog. Sorry for the long hiatus. 

The truth is, I had a lot going on at home. The two main reasons I stopped blogging were having a baby, and my father becoming terminally ill with pancreatic cancer, all while  he was fighting lewy body dementia. I took over as his caretaker, which to be honest, was a tremendous strain on me mentally, and physically. While I do not regret the time I took to take care of him, it did have an enormous negative impact on me. 

My dad passed away in April. Right before he died I started having panic attacks and suffered from an anxiety disorder. It was not pretty. 

I was told that I was going through something called complex grief. So, instead of having crying fits, as is normal during the grieving process, I had panic attacks. 

All of this was going on while my state of Michigan was in the midst of a huge corona virus outbreak and we were in total lock down. It was awful. I felt trapped at home. I was a prisoner of my own grief. 

April is also the month that I became pregnant with my second child. So I had hormones messing with my emotions as well. It was not pretty. 

Needless to say, I've had a lot to deal with. And it's really taken a toll on my writing. I pretty much have had writer's block since December 2019 when my father's health started to rapidly decline. 

Five months after his death, I am sitting here, picking up the pieces of my life, and finding myself grateful for my supportive family and friends. My anxiety is down to a manageable level, and my panic attacks are becoming weaker by the day. 

I was finally able to bury my father in August. He now resides next to my mother in a private family owned cemetery in upstate NY. I spread their beloved dog's ashes on their graves and said my good byes. 

I am really not sure when I'm going to be able to go back that way to visit them. It's a 2 day drive to get there, and I have another baby on the way, which is making travel more difficult. It is what it is at this point.

Speaking of babies...

Quite a while ago I had planned on publishing my first vampire novel, which I had posted here as a serial story titled ADDICTED TO THE ABYSS. (I know, not the most imaginative of titles, but whatever. You guys LOVED IT!) 

I am now working on getting it formatted for print and e-book (and re-titled into something more interesting lol). In addition, I am working on writing a companion piece to it, from Mallory's perspective. Before my life (and the world) went all to hell, I had a series of books plotted out to take place in the VAMPIRE ADDICTS setting. Including lore as to how and where the vampires came from. I was even working on that world's version of werewolves. Something new and different from the usual fur and claws stuff. 

I can't give a release date for the book or new serial just yet. I am still in the planning and formatting stages. But I will be keeping you updated. 

Thanks for sticking with me, and for loving what I've posted on this blog so far. I hope to start reviewing movies again in the new future, as well as writing more vampire stories. 

Also, I just want to say, if you are dealing with anxiety, or panic attacks, and are looking for some advice, feel free to hit me up. I may not have all the answers, but sometimes it helps just to speak to someone who knows what it feels like. You don't have to go through it alone. 

Take it easy guys, see you on the flip side.  



Friday, April 19, 2019

You Won't Believe Why I Stopped Blogging

Hey guys, I just realized that it's been over a year since I've posted anything on here.

This post is extremely personal. I know I don't normally talk about my life outside of writing, but I wanted to share my experience here. (And talk about my future publishing plans! Ah!)

I feel a little guilty about neglecting my blog and my book writing, but I have a very, very good reason for it.  I stopped writing because of this beautiful bundle of joy, baby Lorelei.



She was born September 27th 2018 via emergency C-section, 5 weeks early, due to my having severe pre-eclampsia.

Lorelei is a preterm baby. But, thank God, she was born healthy and strong, and she is growing stronger every day. She didn't need to go to the NICU (newborn intensive care unit) and got to go home with us after I stayed in the hospital for 5 days. (A C-section and super high blood pressure will do that to you.)

She was due October 31st. I was so over the moon about having a Halloween baby. We had gotten married on Halloween. It's the best holiday of the year. 


However, my body had other plans.

I started going into labor the third week of September. They managed to stop it and I went back home, but my condition was deteriorating. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, and soon I found myself in the doctor's office being told that they were getting me a room at the hospital because my blood pressure was too high and that we were having the baby that night. (It actually took two nights because they induced labor but couldn't get me to dilate. Talk about a painful nightmare! Yikes.).

The pregnancy was very rough from the start, mainly because it was my first, and I was over 35 years old. I'll spare you the details, other than I was physically miserable from March to September. But damn was I happy.

We had finally done it and made ourselves a family. 


Yes, it was hard. But, I don't regret a single minute of it. Because she's so freaking cute. One of the most fulfilling things I've ever done is to become a mom.

Just look at this face! Ah! So cute!


At first, we thought that we couldn't have kids. We tried for 5 years after we got married. FIVE. YEARS.

It turns out that the medicines I was taking for depression and ADD, were causing miscarriages and infertility issues. I had been on them for 20 years. No one ever told me that I could stop taking them a year after I had clinical depression and I'd be all right. (I was 17 when I had a bad episode, which was a direct cause of a shitty family situation. It really wasn't me, it was them. Took me a long time to accept that.)

I struggled for years with the idea that I "had" to take medicine to live a normal life free from depression. Mainly because my mother, who long suffered from bipolar disorder, convinced me that I needed to be on them.

Well, I don't.

Long (and very sad story) short, my mom was a prescription drug addict and wanted me to become one too.

She was crazy. I've come to terms with it. 

But, like a lot of medicines, if you take them a long time, your brain becomes addicted to them. 


So I had to take time off from writing to deal with withdrawal and immense brain fog. The first three weeks were the hardest.

It takes one month for every year you are on a drug to get it out of your system and quit being dependant on it (that's a nice way to say that your brain is addicted to the chemicals you've been pumping into it).  That's why my productivity slowed down in late 2017, I was dealing with withdrawal. From prescribed medication. From a doctor I trusted. Thanks, doc.

I was on two medications that were preventing us from having a baby. Adderall and Wellbutrin. Adderall was for ADD and Wellbutrin was for depression.

I was not diagnosed with ADD until I was out of college and in my late 20s. I survived school with good grades. Graduated with a Bachelor's in English with honors even. However, I struggled to focus if things were boring. I still do. (Yes my grades did suffer in a few classes that I REALLY didn't want to take, but was forced to. But I passed the classes with a shitty grade and did fucking fantastic in everything else.)

If anything I'd like people to know that Adderall is a horrible thing to get hooked on. It helped to mellow me out a bit and was a great combo with Welbutrin, but it CHANGED my personality and essentially killed my creativity and drive to do things. (Yes. It killed MY creativity. Believe it or not.)

I could sit at the computer for 10 hours straight doing just one thing. Sure. That was fucking great if I wanted to do some writing. But there were days where all I would do is play a video game. I logged 600 hours in Terraria. (Yes. Terraria. Sue me. It's fun. Addicting even. To the point where I had to force myself to stop playing or I wouldn't get anything else done.)

I didn't want to go outside and enjoy life. I was a drone. Even worse, it had really snuffed out my empathy and turned me into a bitch. I didn't even realize how bad I was becoming until I stopped taking it. That shit numbs you. My depth of emotional experiences was shallow.

It was...awful.

The good news is that it's been two years since I've kicked the habit of antidepressants/ADD meds and I'm fine. In fact, I'm more than fine. I'm great. I feel like myself again. My creativity is way up.

The music is back in my life, in many ways. 


Dreams are more vivid. Inspiration hits fast and hard (in a good way. Shut up. Get your mind out of the gutter.). I'm less closed minded. I am no longer trapped in a mental box that I could not see out of.

I have hope, genuine hope that everything is going to turn out all right.


I laugh and cry easier now. And that's OK.

I do have days where I can't focus well. And that's OK too. I know why I get that way, and really, with a baby, it's hard to do things in long sittings anyways, so it works out just fine.

So between removing unnecessary medications from my life and having a baby, I've been pretty damn busy in the self-care department. And that is why all the stuff I had planned to write, was put on hold.

Not abandoned, just set aside. I have a beautiful 6-month-old daughter, and my elderly father who is losing his memory to take care of, so my time is limited. But I have found ways to increase my productivity, including using my phone and tablet to write while feeding the baby, so I will slowly and surely get shit done.

My Plans for 2019

Books


  • Finish the 3 Thieves of Night Serial that I got 3/4 of the way through posting on here. 
  • Finish the Caddis Initiative Trilogy, Titles TBD
  • Publish Addicted to the Abyss in book form for people to buy. (It will have a different title that will be announced later. The one I used here is not a good one for sales.)
  • Start the Black Hearts and Bloodied Lips Book Series (I've fleshed out the world and made it a mashup of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stakeland and Metro 2033. You're gonna love it!)
  • Start an Urban Fantasy Wizard Problem Solver/Detective Series (it was inspired by a vivid dream I had. I'll tell you guys about it later. I decided to go with this because it has a bigger market so I'll be selling more books. Which is always a good thing.)


Podcasts


  • Upload all 5 episodes of Carnage Cove
  • Upload all 12 episodes of Myth Vault

I can't wait to share my work with you guys!

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Here's A NEW FREE CHAPTER from my Vampire Book DEVOURED!



Author's Note: This is an exclusive excerpt of a brand new chapter from my upcoming vampire book DEVOURED which is an expanded version of my Addicted to the Abyss serial. It takes all the great content from the series, fills in blanks in time, and lets the reader see everything that Jonah was up to prior to finding Mallory. 

Blackness enveloped me.

Nothingness surrounded me.

No thoughts, no feelings, nothing.

Peaceful darkness, pierced by glimpses of faces, of blood running down walls and sink drains, of people screaming or pulling away in repulsion. Of things that Should Not Be staring right through me, right at my very soul.

Everything a jumble of sights and sounds and smells and tastes and fuck it tasted so good.

Food. That’s all I thought about.

Go hunt, eat, sleep during the day. Go back out. Eat some more.

Keep moving. Always keep moving. Don’t stay in one place or they’ll catch you. That bad man, the one that hurt you, and that woman, the one that turned you into a monster. They’ll both find you if you don’t run.

Her brood, the others that she turned like me, but not like me because they didn’t think for themselves, they obeyed her every command. She wanted me to be like them, and I refused. That made her angry. So very, very angry.

I knew this because they kept whispering that to me in my head. They told me things; horrible things, things she was going to do to me when she found me. Things she’d do to HIM if I didn’t behave.

But…I don’t remember who HE is. I know I should, but I can’t. No face, no name, no memories of the sound of his voice. Just his scent.

Every once in a while, there was a familiar scent on the wind, coming from the north. A smell of home, of someone important. Someone who made my heart ache and sent me screaming in rage.
HIM.

HE hurt me.

I’m going to find him. I’m going to make him suffer for what he did. I’ll torture him, eviscerate and devour him body and soul, I’ll keep eating until there’s nothing left.

But, why do I remember what he smells like, and nothing else? It makes no sense.

Then again, the other day, I didn’t even remember what I sounded like until I spoke. It startled me.

It was funny and pathetic.

But that wasn’t the worst part. 


No. Not even close.

The worst part is what I dreamed of...when I had dreams.

Most nights I just collapsed at daybreak and everything was black until I stirred at sunset. But other nights, when the moon was nowhere to be seen in the sky; those nights, it came to me.

It visited me in my dreams. The Abyss; a dark black heart, beating in the basement of a large structure. Slowly beating, a single eye on its side, threatening to open and stare at me and swallow me whole and make it all. Go. Away. Forever.

Human flesh tendrils shot out of it, wrapped around the walls, devoured everything it touched, everything. People, walls, time. Everything. Nothing was spared its unending hunger. Nothing.

Its black blood oozed out of the bottom, collected in a pan or tank or something I no longer have a word for.

It knew where I was. It knew what I was.

And it whispered to me. Hateful things. Horrible things.

It wanted me to help it. Help it destroy. Help it decay and devour everything single thing living in this world. All of it.

That voice, that horrible whispering voice, it comes from my dreams into my waking hours, from that giant heart of death. It whispers to me all the time.

Kill.

Rip their hearts out, devour them whole. 

Make them suffer. 

Make them all suffer and cry and then eat them. 

They taste better when they’re scared. 

Don’t they, Jonah?

The Abyss; its writhing human flesh tendrils, black beating heart, and its eye. That terrible eye. Red and black. Glowing in the darkness. Destroying everything it looked at. Making it just, not exist. As if it never was there, to begin with. All it took was one blink and it could make anything disappear, forever. Erasing it from reality.

It terrified me.

It didn’t care about Mullo.

It never mentioned HER.

It just wanted me to kill.

And so, I did.

I killed and ate my fill, but it was never enough. Never enough. Always hungry, always wanted more. And all the while, I kept thinking that I wanted to go home. But I couldn’t remember why, let alone where that was.

Then, after a while, I lost his scent on the wind. And I forgot about home. About HIM.


I started enjoying myself. Stalking people, getting them alone, scaring them shitless, and eating them whole.

A small part of me, in the very back of my fucked up mind, knew it was wrong, but it tasted so good, and the high I got from eating my fill was wonderful. Energizing. Warmth flooded my body, eased the pain from the hunger, made everything all right. Felt so good. Better than sex. Better than anything I had ever done before. I kept wanting more and more and more of it until there was nothing left to look forward to then the next fix. My next meal.

Who would make a good snack?

Who would be good to devour whole?

It was a fun game; the selection; the chase; the kill. The feeding frenzy. I was nothing more than a piranha. A killing and eating machine. Cold-blooded like a shark, with a mouthful of sharp, daggered teeth.

My teeth…took a while to get used to that. When I got hungry they grew longer and razor sharp. After I fed they shrank back to normal. It wasn’t just the incisors, but all of them. All my teeth did that.

Thankfully, I learned how not to bite my cheeks, but I occasionally got too excited and bit my tongue. Still learning to deal with that.

Nights turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Seasons came and went. None of it bothered me much. Followed. Always followed. Broodlings about to catch up. Nowhere to run, they always find me. Always a few steps behind me. SHE was with them., like a black mass of living shadow; bitter cold, deadly, waiting to catch me and swallow me whole.

Didn’t want to leave the state.

Not sure why.

Felt like I was forgetting something.

Something very important.

Made my heart ache if I thought about it too much. Hated that feeling, that empty sadness of loss and regret. Made me want to rip my own heart out and bury it so that I could leave that hellish feeling behind. But, I couldn’t.

What was that?

Loneliness?

Despair?

Sorrow?

Don’t know. Not sure.

Hated it, wanted that part of me dead. Wished that I could forget everything sometimes. Would be easier than this waking hell of half-forgotten words, empty promises, false lies, the feeling of a memory just out of grasp.

Pretty sure there were times now when I just blacked out. No words, only feelings and scents and sounds and sights, like a filthy animal. Like her broodlings.

The blackouts happened frequently, more and more now. I wasn’t even aware of it happening until I snapped out of it. I hated that part.

I don’t know what kind of man I used to be before IT happened, but I’m pretty sure that he’d be mortified to learn that he ended up like this.

I tried not eating every day, but the urge became too strong. I grew agitated, pain settled back into my body like it was devouring my insides.

Maybe it was.

Shaking, weak, I was like a junkie going through withdrawal. I needed my fix, and I needed it now, or I was going to die.

I woke up, covered in cold sweat. It was tinged black…my tar blood was in everything now. Saliva, tears, sweat. It smelled like death. Like I was decaying from the inside out. But I wasn’t. At least, I didn’t think that I was.

Where was I again?

I popped open the trunk of my car, started walking.

It was mid-January. Cold. Snow everywhere.


The neon sign glared out into the crisp night. I walked towards it, salivating, wondering what type of person I would eat tonight.

It was a truck stop, off the freeway. Men, drivers of those big rig semi-trucks where hanging outside by their trucks, I could smell the desire for sex coming from them when I stood downwind. They wanted a fuck. And they wanted it bad.

Easy prey.

Wouldn’t be difficult to get them to come to me and go somewhere alone. Not at all.  They were starving for a rut like I was starving for their blood.

They were looking for quickies in their cabs or out back in the snowbanks.

I took off my shirt, tossed it onto the snow as I walked towards them.

I prowled past them, gave them a knowing smirk, let them watch me go and lean against the side of the building, unzipped my leather jacket, let them see I had no shirt on, just bare pale skin under it. Ran a hand down my stomach, lingered on my belt, stared at them as I unbuckled it. They ribbed each other and walked over, and I went and stood behind the building and waited for them to strut up to me.

The truck stop’s lights glinted in the snow banks. It sparkled. Pretty. So cold and pretty. Like stars.

Fuck. I was so hungry.

I hadn’t eaten in days.

I was shaking. They thought I was freezing cold and shivering. But I wasn't. No. I was shaking because I was starving. I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into their delicious flesh.

“Hey there honey, I can warm you up,” one said. He was big and burly, strong, muscular, taller than the others. I decided to eat him first.

“Sure. Sounds good. You look delicious.”

The others looked annoyed. I could take them all on, easy. Was hungry enough to eat them all, or so I felt.

“Come on, there’s enough of me for all of you, let’s head inside to the showers,” I said.

They grinned at each other. I could hear their hearts beat faster, excited. The musky scent of their sex grew stronger as they got hard at the thought of fucking me.

This was going to be fun. 


We walked into the building, sauntered over to the shower area. It smelled of mildew and urinal cakes. I didn’t care.

I was having a hard time keeping it together. Sweating, shaking, pain wracked my body, seared through the muscles in my back, burned in my stomach. Felt like I had swallowed broken glass.

I wanted to eat them all. I had to be patient, and it was killing me. The waiting. I felt like a junky trying to hold out before the next fix hit his veins.

No. I had to wait.

Waiting for them to get vulnerable before I attacked was part of the process. It was important.
The predator in me, that darkness, told me to wait. Be patient. Don’t strike yet.

I forced myself to relax.

No need to worry the sheep just yet. Don’t show your fangs. Take it easy.

“Close that door and lock it,” the big one said and the smallest of the men grabbed a chair and lodged it under the door handle. Guess there wasn’t an actual lock on it.

They just trapped themselves in here with me. Suckers.

They turned on several of the showers to drown out the anticipated noise they thought they would be making as they had their way with me. I smiled, a small upturned corner of my mouth. Sly. They mistook it for me being excited about sex. But that’s not what I was excited about. Not at all.

So hungry. So thirsty. Mouth dry, stomach on fire. Pain everywhere. Needed to eat. Needed to feed.

My stomach growled, they laughed.

“Hungry huh?” one asked. He was cuter than the others. Clean cut, just a little stubble, black hair shaved short, nice clothes. Probably made more money than his peers. I tried to remember to take their wallets after I was done, but I wasn’t sure if I would or not, to be honest. Once I started feeding, all bets were off. Sanity went out the window.

I was starting to see red and black dots in my vision. My breath was shallow. Saliva pooled in my mouth.

“Come on, I can’t wait much longer, I want to eat you, all of you,” I said and took off my jacket and pants and got on my knees. They chuckled and stood around me, all four men unzipping their pants and whipping out their hard-ons. Gay boy’s paradise, right?

There was a strange sensation, a pull at the back of my mind, a wisp of memory, of doing something like this before. I wasn’t as happy back then as I was right now. Not sure why. I got money for it. But hated myself for doing it. Curious that.

I shook it off.

Time to get ready to feed. Had to move fast before they reacted. One had a gun, another had a knife, one had a taser. The other carried pepper spray. I could smell the metal and chemicals on them. It was a new ability, along with seeing in the dark. I kind of liked it. It was useful.

I was greedy. They thought I was just excited, a little piggy fag out for a good hard fuck.

I let them take off my underwear, they saw I wasn’t hard.

“Hey, I can help you with that, if you’re too cold to get it up.”

 I smiled. “It’s not necessary. I’m doing this for you after all. You are paying me right?”

They exchanged glances that told me that no, they wouldn’t be paying anyone they did this to, but the big burly one said, “Sure, of course, sweetie. We’ll pay you when we’re done. Stan, help the man up,” he said and the shortest one got undressed and started licking me down there.

His warm wet tongue tickled me and I laughed. No amount of work on his part would get that thing up. It was useless now. Just a remnant of my past life, an atavism of being human. I didn't need it anymore, rarely ever thought about it. I certainly didn't have the urge to fuck like I used to, back when I was alive. Only when I ate too much, did it do anything at all. But usually, I forgot about that, just as soon as it happened.

I chuckled. How could I forget about sex? How stupid was that? Sex is a fantastic lure for food. 

“What’s so funny?” the man sucking on me asked, a confused smile on his face.

“Nothing. Ignore me,” I said and grabbed the biggest guy and yanked his pants down the rest of the way.

Had to act fast, before they could think. Got to get them naked and away from their weapons. Get them to get their guard down. Then strike. And bite. Hard. Make their hot blood gush out into my mouth and rush down my throat and sooth the sharp pain in my belly.

“Come on, I always wanted to do this under running water. It’s hot,” I said and pulled him towards the shower as it turned on.

He took off his shirt and threw it on the bench near the exit. The others followed suit and took off everything and left their belongings on the bench.

Perfect. Time to go for the kill.

As soon as they got close to me, I jumped on the biggest one and bit down hard on his neck and ripped the flesh back, pulling the skin and muscle off in one motion. He gasped, grabbed at me and I hopped off, chewing and swallowing fast as his blood poured out of him. The others cried out and ran for the door as he staggered towards them, eyes wide in shock, hand up to his neck.

I leaped on the back of the nearest one, twisted his neck. Broke it easy, and he fell. I ran to the one at the door, who was panicking and trying to open it, the fact that it was blocked by a chair on this side lost to him, and I grabbed his head and slammed it into the tiled wall. He collapsed in a jumble of limp arms.

The last on grabbed the gun and held it up, arms shaking. It wasn’t his gun. He didn’t take off the safety. He couldn’t get it to fire and kept pulling the trigger. Panicked. Out of control.

“Don’t come near me you freak!” he screamed.

“Shhh…it will all be over soon,” I said and walked up to him and yanked the gun out of his hands.

He whimpered and pissed himself and backed up against the wall, hands searching for something, anything to use as a weapon. He threw an empty shampoo bottle at me and I swatted it away. I stepped up to him, grabbed his still hard cock and squeezed. He grimaced.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to rip it off. I just want to eat you. All of you,” I said and licked his neck. He tasted of cheap cologne, cigarettes, and sweat. The fear radiated off of him, it made him smell wonderful. “You smell so good. I bet you taste even better,” I said and grabbed him by the throat and pressed in, willing my nails to grow longer and sharper until they cut through his flesh and blood ran in rivulets down his skin.

I licked them off and shuddered, and I just lost it. I leaped on him, he screamed and I ripped out his throat, windpipe and all, with my teeth. He dropped to the floor, bleeding out, making a strange gurgling noise as he tried to keep screaming, but couldn’t.

I smiled wide. My teeth sharp, ready to rip into hot flesh, eat their muscle, drink their blood. All of it was mine. MINE!

It took me all night to eat them. I stripped off their skin and tossed it aside, lapped up the blood off the floor, and peeled off their muscles in segments, relishing the feel of the hot, slimy meat as I bit down into it and chewed. It settled smoothly in my stomach, made me feel like I was glowing. All the pain left. I stopped shaking and took my time eating my fill.

I finished off the big one and was a little bit through eating the second when the truck stop attendant got nosy and started pounding on the door.

“OK fellas! Time’s up. The morning crowd will be in soon. Can’t have them walking into a sex orgy now.”

I dropped the meat. Looked around. There was a window, a little high up, but I could make that jump now, easy.

I rinsed off the blood, fast and sloppy, not thorough but just enough, got dressed, took their wallets and the boot knife and then jumped up, grabbed the window sill with one arm, the window clasp with the other and opened it and climbed up out of it as the truck stop attendant threatened to call the cops if we didn’t open that damn door.

I laughed and hopped down. No one would be answering him now.

I dropped their wallets out back, after taking their money and credit cards. I could sell the cards to people on the street. No way I’d be using them. They could track me if I paid for things with them. That much I remembered.

Walked back the long way to where I left the car near a ditch a few miles back, retrieved my shirt from the snow bank, and got in. My clothes were stiff, the shower water froze.

I had gotten them wet. Forgot to dry off first before I put them on. Didn’t have time.

Not that it mattered. I couldn’t really feel cold anymore.

I had 800 bucks and a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I tossed the knife in the seat, lit up a smoke and sat back and sighed.

I forgot.

I loved the taste of these.

It was familiar. Comforting.

I took the map out of the glove compartment, and drew a circle around the truck stop. Wrote the number four on it, with a smiley face and chuckled. Damn did they taste good. Wished I could’ve stuck around to finish them all off.

Oh well.

I put the map away, put the sheathed knife in the top of my boot and had another cigarette.

The sun would be rising in a few hours. I had time, so I waited for the cop cars to speed past before I turned the car on and drove away, passing by the truck stop and grinning.

That was a good night.

I was beginning to enjoy it. I was good at that, the hunt. Seducing prey in for the kill. It was fun. And satisfying.

But the fun was short lived.

My memories faded fast.

Forgot my name.

Forgot a lot of things. Everything, except how to hunt, how to kill, how to keep running.

And, I was being tracked, by several things. Not just HER. Not just Mullo. No. Others. Humans with guns. They wanted me dead. I was dangerous. A threat. I needed to be put down like a rabid dog. Part of me wished that they would just catch up with me so that I could kill them already. The feeling of being hunted was annoying.

Patience. They will find you in time, and then you can eat your fill.

I smiled at the thought and kept driving.


You can find the expanded version of Addicted to the Abyss in the novel DEVOURED available on Amazon for pre-order now! get your copy here 






Saturday, April 15, 2017

Here's a Sneak Peek at Addicted to the Abyss Volume 2 Mallory's Thirst!

I've been super busy working on editing and expanding volume one of ADDICTED TO THE ABYSS- the start of which is on here as a 12-part serial story.

Since Jonah's story runs parallel to Mallory's, and Mal has a better sense of time and place because his brain isn't Swiss cheese, I've also been writing the first draft of volume two.

In essence, I've been multi-tasking. BIG TIME. (Sleep? Who needs sleep? HA!)

Here's a small peek at what I've been working on!



Addicted to the Abyss Volume 2 Mallory's Thirst Chapter 4

Jonah visited me last night.

I don’t know how he found me. It’s been over a year.

I moved to Montana, tried to get back to my career but…all I could think about was him. Worried. Not sleeping or eating well. I felt lost. Empty. But I knew I had to go. I couldn’t break my contract with my employers. They would be…consequences. I wasn’t mentally strong enough to deal with that yet.

They knew I was grieving. No one said it, but I could see it on their faces. They felt bad, an awkward sympathy towards an emotionally wrecked man. I could feel my life fray at the edges, slowly continuing to unravel, as though someone found the main thread holding me together and was yanking it, the very fabric of my being was pulling apart, stitch by stitch.

My underlings respected me, and I know that they covered for my mistakes constantly, but even with my screwing up the data entries, we were seeing positive results. My bosses were pleased. I was…barely satisfied.

I used stimulants to stay awake. I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to dream, to see him running just out of reach, covered in blood, screaming at me to let him die.

If I had known then, what I know now, I would’ve paid more attention to my nightmares. I would’ve slept more fully, would’ve kept a dream journal. Maybe then I…

It doesn’t matter.

Jonah.

Jonah is all that matters.

And he visited me last night.

I went home to clean up and sleep. I was so tired, I nodded off in the shower. Woke up before I smacked my head into the tiled wall. I shook my head, rubbed my face, felt how scruffy I was, and grimaced. Jonah was one of those guys that liked beards. I never cared for them, but I let myself go. I was in sore need of a haircut and a shave.

I got out, wrapped a towel around my waist and noticed just how skinny I had gotten. I’d lost too much weight. My ribs were showing. No doubt I was malnourished by this point.

Grief can do that to you.

I trimmed my hair, shaved off the beard, and cut myself shaving. Shaking hands and a new razor blade are a bad combination.

I barely recognized myself in the mirror. Sunken cheeks, black circles under my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled. Not that it mattered. I wasn’t planning on dating and charming the pants off of anyone anytime soon. That is what caused all this mess to begin with.

I didn’t want to be with anyone ever again. I didn’t think that my heart could take it. No. No way I was going to date again. I had no appetite for hooking up with strange men for one night stands anymore. It was my fault. It was all my fault.

I finished off a bottle of whiskey and drunkenly collapsed on my bed, face down. I didn’t even bother crawling under the covers, or taking the towel off.

I didn’t care.

I left the bedroom window open. The cold breeze felt nice. It was winter, and I didn’t care if I got frostbite or froze to death. Maybe I wanted to die. I was having passive suicidal thoughts. And I didn’t care. Maybe that was why I didn’t wake up when the window was opened all the way from the outside. My apartment is on the third floor.

I just stayed there. Face down on my bed, waiting as the screen was ripped open and someone crawled inside.

They smelled rank, like rotting flesh and old blood.

My heart skipped a beat, I was excited.

This was it. The end.

I didn’t even have to do anything. I imagined that whatever killed Jonah had come to kill me, to end it all. It made me sad and happy to know that I would be with him soon. I could apologize. Beg him to forgive me for being so selfish, so full of myself. Maybe he’d even take me back.

The person who crawled through my window was filthy. I turned my head to look out of the corner of my eye. Light from the bathroom filtered down the hall into the bedroom,illuminating the figure. Dark dried blood spattered down a white torn shirt. It had soaked in the collar, spread in a circle from a bite on the neck. Filthy bare feet. Khaki shorts. A broken wristwatch.

I gave him that watch for a birthday present. I thought it was dumb, no one wore a watch anymore, everyone used their phone to tell the time. But, I got him one anyway. Something expensive- a leather band, diamonds on the face. Something he would love. And he did. That was a good night. The last date we went on before I started…

And then I messed everything up.

I could see his face. It was him.

Jonah came back to me.

I didn’t move. I didn’t want to startle him. I didn’t want him to run off. I wanted him to stay. So I lay there, heart pounding, skin crawling, every fiber of my being screaming at me to run as he stepped up to the bed.

He licked his lips, drool plopped on my bare legs. It was thick, slimy and cold. I shivered. Goosebumps raised on my arms, raced down my legs. He breath was erratic. He sounded excited.
He slowly crawled on the bed, ran freezing hands up my back.

I shivered, slowly turned over to face him.

My God. His eyes. The whites of his eyes were black, the irises were red and glowing. Bio-luminescence. I had read about that. Couldn’t believe it could occur in human eyes, but there it was.

“Jonah,” I whispered. “Where have you been?”

“I know your smell,” he said breathing in my hair. “I know this smell.”

“Who did this to you?” I asked, sorrow lumped in my throat.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled, showing off vicious fangs. There was no denying it now. He had changed. Turned into the very thing I was hired to study and killed— a vampire.

“SHE did it.” He rubbed his neck, a scar, a patch of flesh healed over to silver flesh, where the vamp tore a huge chunk out of his neck.

He chuckled eerily. It turned into a crazed laugh. “SHE did it!”

I backed away, fell off the side of the bed. He pounced on me. Ripped off my towel.

“Unwrap you like a snack,” he said and swallowed the drool that pooled in his mouth.

My stomach sank. I froze. Terrified.

He rubbed his face on my stomach, licked up my chest and neck. His tongue was freezing cold.

“I remember your eyes. Brown. So pretty. Want to pluck them out and eat them.” He ran a finger around my left eye.

I grimaced, pulled my head back. I was so sad, and so scared. I couldn’t help it, I started to cry.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What for? You’ll taste good.”

Shivering out of fear and anticipation of the pain, I froze. I did not push him off. Not sure if I’d be strong enough to do it even if I had tried. I had gone too long without eating or sleeping, not caring if I lived or died.

“Your fear. So yummy,” he said and licked my neck. Tongue like ice. I shuddered. I was afraid. I felt the urge to piss and barely held it in. “So squirmy. Mmmm…” he grabbed me by the shoulders, tossed me back onto the bed. He jumped on me, slid up my body, like he used to, when we were getting frisky and about to fuck.

He was cold. So very cold to the touch. He was undead now. My Jonah wasn’t alive. He was a monster.

“Stop,” I cried as he went to bite my neck.

“Hmmm? Why no fight? The others scream and kick you…don’t. Why?”

“Because, I’m your…”

“You’re mine?” He perked up. “Mine?”

“Yes. I’m yours, you’re mine. We were going to get married.”

“We were?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t remember that.”

“Jonah, it’s me. It’s Mal. Please try to remember.”

I leaned forward, mouth dry, heart pounding, shivering. Pressed my forehead against his. He was so dirty and covered in dried gritty blood, excrement and who knows what else.

“Please, remember me.”

He smiled, lunged forward and kissed me. His razor sharp incisors bit into my tongue. I thought he was going to bite it off, but he let go. I pulled back. He licked his lips and shuddered.

“You taste so good.”

Blood welled in my mouth. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Here, you taste me too,” he said. He bit his own tongue and kissed me. Thick, noxious cold sludge filled my mouth, burned in my nose. I choked as  he kept kissing me, shoving his tongue in deep, wrapping it around my own. I was disgusted, thrilled, and terrified, more scared than I had ever been in my life.

I struggled, and he held my nose, made me swallow his thick, blacker than death blood. It burned its way down to sear a pit in my stomach. It was so cold and yet it burned.

He pulled away. “There. Now you’ll always be mine. And I will always be yours.”

I lay there, shivering. In total shock. The burning was spreading quickly through my body. It hurt. I felt like I was dying.

“You wet the bed. Clean it up.”

I was laying in a pool of my own hot piss. He scared me so much, I peed myself. I grew lightheaded.
He said something but I didn’t quite understand it. I shook my head yes anyways. I think he wanted me to say yes. I wasn’t quite sure though.

He smiled, flashed his fangs at me, and then dashed out the window.

My heart pounded in my ears. My vision dimmed. My body weak, cold and naked.

I shivered, curled up into a ball on the bed, gasping in pain.

The last thing I remember thinking was that I was going into shock and I needed to get help.

Everything went black and red. Insects crawled in my ears and scuttled around in my head. Scratching, scratching, scratching.

Jonah’s voice echoed in my head,“You’ll always be mine. And I will always be yours.”

Everything burned, my body was on fire. It hurt so much, I passed out.

I sat up, screaming.

Daylight filtered into the room. I was laying on the bed, naked. Black blood dried up and flaked on my chest and chin. Disoriented, I panicked and ran to the bathroom and tried to throw up, but nothing came up. I had the dry heaves.

I stuck my toothbrush handle down my throat to induce vomiting. I had to do it several times before anything came up.

Black clotted gel plopped into the toilet. Vampire blood. I made myself puke until green bile came up. Then I rinsed out my mouth and washed off the dried blood. My tongue was sore, it had punctured holes on either side. The wounds hurt, bad. He damn near sliced my tongue off.

I rinsed my mouth out with hydrogen peroxide solution and examined my body thoroughly.
There were no other bite marks on me.

I closed the window, pulled the sheets off the bed. Cleaned the piss out of the mattress, did laundry.
All the while, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still there, watching me.

I searched the whole damn place. He wasn’t hiding anywhere. I…wasn’t sure what he meant when he said that I was his now. I was afraid to find out.

I drew some of my blood and examined it in the portable electron microscope—courtesy of my employers— there was no discernible change. Not yet at any rate.

I knew what markers to look for. It sometimes takes up to 72 hours for them to develop.

I called in to work, gave orders, said I was taking a few days off to rest, and I waited.

I had horrible dreams. Nightmares. Scenes of death and carnage, like war zones. People dying horribly. Body parts everywhere. Blood. So much blood.

I decided to keep looking for the markers in my red blood cells. He did something to me. I could feel it. A nagging, unsettled feeling of fear, a pit of ice in my stomach.

What did you do to me Jonah?

What did you do?