Tuesday, 8 December 2015

The Andy Weir thing and The Cistern Prologue

Hi everyone,
It's been a while since I've put an update on my blog, so this one is a doozy.  The 2nd book in The Alcrest Mysteries...The Menu...is out and available on Amazon and Kobo.  Things are going well.

A friend asked me why I don't do the Andy Weir thing.  If you don't know who he is, he wrote The Martian which became a great movie starring Matt Damon.  I saw the movie and it was great.  I bought the paperback and found out that Andy Weir wrote the story and put it for free on his website/blog a little at a time.  People loved it, a publisher saw it...bing, bang, boom...published and movie.  So why don't I do this?  I write a book for a year, put my soul on the pages, have fights with my family over the time I put into my writing and stress out over whether the storyline of imaginary people works...doesn't that deserve some payback?  I think so.

Of course after saying that I'll take a chance.  Here is the prologue for The Cistern (warning:  it's not for everyone and the faint at heart)  If I get a few comments and interest I will post another chapter every week.

Note:  The Cistern will be on sale on Amazon and Kobo for only .99 cents December 15 to 20th.

The Cistern:  An Alcrest Mystery



A tank for storing water, especially one supplying taps or as part of a flushing toilet
An underground reservoir for rainwater.


Twenty years ago

He wondered what the cat wanted more - to be let out of the wood box or to have the cinderblock lifted from its tail.
He stared at it, with what his mother called his big baby eyes.  The cat screeched and thrashed about wildly without getting anywhere.  Its feet dug into the bottom of the box wanting to pull its tail out from under the concrete block.  One of its nails had pulled out and was stuck in the plywood bottom.
The boy's tongue flicked out and licked the saliva collecting on his lips.  His head tilted to the side as he pondered how long it would take before Whisker's tail popped off.
He smiled.  It was like that rhyme before you flicked the dandelion head off the stem with your thumb.  "Momma had a baby and her head popped off."
Things were tingling inside the boy.  He didn't know why or how it all started, but he didn't want to let it stop.  He wanted to see how far it would go.  If the boy saw Whiskers pull its tail off would he moan in ecstasy like those men in the movies his father watched after everyone went to bed?  Would he be shocked?
This was different than the cat he put in the barrel of rain water.  He watched Tabby try and swim to the edge.  Then he pushed the cat back to the center with a stick.  It splashed around a long time, but then just gave up and it was over.
Whiskers was different.  His face got warm.
He knew that if the grey cat could pull its tail out...
"Momma had a baby..."
...it wouldn't be over.  Any bone, or whatever was in a cat’s tail, was crushed.  He could still hear the sounds from when he tipped the heavy cinderblock over.
"Hush kitty," he said in a calming tone.  "Everything’s okay."  He reached out a hand.
The cat riled up.  Its paw swiped.
The boy pulled his hand back.  There was pain on his fingers.  He looked down as crimson bubbled to the surface and squeezed through the thin holes left by razor-sharp feline blades.  He put his fingertips in his mouth and sucked.
Stupid cat.
He searched the yard.  There were more cinderblocks.  He could take one, hold it above the box, count to three...
"What are you doing?"
He spun around.  The girl from down the road stood at the corner of his house.  It was only the two of them and the howling cat.
The boy’s eyes narrowed.  He tasted blood on his tongue.  Cats and dogs were one thing.  He took a step toward the girl.  This was going to be something altogether different.  Part of him grew.
"...and her head popped off."

No comments:

Post a Comment