Saturday, May 28, 2011

A CRIMINAL PORTRAIT eBook coming in June from Hellfire Publishing. This is a nod to Clive, Clarke, and Karloff…stars of one of my all time favorite films – FRANKENSTEIN.

For a little bit about the story…


Beth Franklin, a young artist with painter’s block, needs to get away from it all. She rents an old country manor estate. On a chance visit to a local art curios shop, she’s captivated by a strange painting, buys the painting, and takes it home. Thus begins a series of frightening events – trances, strange visions, ghostly portraits that Beth inexplicably paints, and a violent haunting by a ghost from the past that’s determined to enact vengeance upon Beth for the deeds of her unknown ancestor…Doctor Frankenstein.


A sudden summer storm came with the night. The storm came quick and violent. Thunder shook the estate, rattled window panes. Lightning tore at shadows in hidden corners, flashed through latticed windows, played strange writhing figures across walls.

The soft light of candles lit the closed off bedroom. Two shadows writhed violently on a wall near the canopied bed. They writhed in lust and passion, naked sweating bodies entwined upon the mattress. Lightning clawed at them, sent black forms dancing across the wall, playing across the portrait of the two now entwined.

Beth suddenly gasped, catching breath. The cackling Schoanburg rose up over her, his neck muscles taunt in orgasm. The top of his head and his brain were missing. Maggots crawled in and out of holes in his face. The crashing storm blew open the window, sent the curtains fluttering madly across the ceiling, and blew out the candles. Rain poured through, drenching the floor, the bed, and those entwined upon the bed.

Schoanburg suddenly howled in triumph. Pinned beneath him, Beth screamed a scream of anguish and defeat, a scream of utter madness that echoed through the door and down the dusty ruined hall.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011


It all had to start somewhere. This was back in the day when science and technology meant something. Back when science and sleaze were equally important. Back when the hyper-spaceways were crowded with people, things, doodads, zingbits, dingbats, and slimy sleazy aliens jaunting from one bar/whore house/restaurant/gambling establishment/bowling alley to the next located conveniently at each interchange along the hyper-spaceways.

Situated near one of those convenient interchanges was the small backwater hamlet of Frogtown where every frog had his day, and night, peacefully co-existing with humans, aliens, three toed-hoes, and various other intergalactic garbage that happened to filter through the little dust bitten bug ridden frog croaking hovel for a Mint Julep and an order of basted and fried frog legs.

One of those pieces of intergalactic garbage was Cap’n Brane Phart, self professed Cap’n of the Spaceways, ie., Cap’n Brane Phart of the Spaceways. Cap’n Brane Phart, himself a Frogtown native, built himself a starship. Called it the Spitball. Kinda looked like one too. Manufactured with some nails and a hammer, wires and fancy colored lights, a few lawn chairs, spit, glue, polish, and paper wads, how in the Holy Huht this thing was gonna hold together was anybody’s guess. But it did in the long run.

Of course, it didn’t take much to run the slimy thing. So, with an onboard computer named Dr Dodo controlling just about all there was to control aboard the ship, Cap’n Phart didn’t need too many people to man the thing. Just a few. Well, a couple. There was Busty Bouncing Missy Pisswick, a former ten toed ho and dancer from Boingo’s Booze Joint and Pool Hall, Frogtown’s sleaziest establishment. And there was a former exhibit from Weezie Sneezie Boozenbopper’s Collection of Frog’s Feet and Traveling Circus Freaks, Bobby Ivan Gregory Schlong (AKA, BIG Schlong). Both had been hand picked by Cap’n Phart.

With the Spitball crew chosen, Cap’n Phart slapped Missy Pisswick on the nice round firm ass and gave her (and BIG Schlong) a guided tour of the ship. They were impressed, ooooing and ahhhhing at every turn, Pisswick bouncing merrily along and Schlong scratching his crotch (he was an avid lover of crotch scratching although some have heard him mutter “bugs” from time to time). And just like everyone else in the far flung reaches of the Multiverse, most of the people on Slagheep (ah, yeah, Slagheep – the planet where the disgusting hovel of Frogtown is located) were wanting to get away. The same for Cap’n Brane Phart, Missy Pisswick, and BIG Schlong. So off they went in the Spitball, careening into space, bouncing along a hyper-spaceway, looking for adventure until they bounced a little too far and found themselves hovering on the brink of a steadily decaying orbit around a black hole.



...dates back a century.

Thursday, May 19, 2011


A collection of horror noir stories set in a hotel. I’ve mentioned elsewhere that the inspiration comes from the film CHELSEA WALLS. Whereas CHELSEA WALLS follows the events surrounding five individuals over a period of one day, my horror noir series follows certain individuals and the events that befall each of them over a brief (perhaps) period of time. The hotel is a special place, a place out of time and space, and surrounded by a towering concrete wall. It’s not so much what lies beyond the wall, rather what transpires inside the hotel…somewhat.

I might also mention that CHELSEA WALLS isn’t the only source of inspiration for this series. Last year I wrote a horror story about a couple of gangsters and set the action in a hotel. I love the story, had a grand time constructing it, and was going to include it in my as yet unpublished collection DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES. Instead, I pulled the story, and set it aside. Now that story is the foundation for this current project whose working title is the same as the original story. Think I’ll keep it that way.

BTW, the model for my hotel actually exists in Washington State. The real hotel has since changed its name slightly. I kept its original name.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011


Yeah, I have one. It was the horrific (in a bad way, not a fun way) experience of one of my short stories being turned into a film. Now some may think…cool! My story made into a movie! Yeah, I thought so too.

Yeah, well, cool if the story WAS made into a movie. It wasn’t. Far from it. It was a disaster. I had advertised a short story that I had rewritten into a two act, 25 minute short. It garnered interest, a fledgling (should have known then) produced, director, and jack of all trades. He asked if I could expand it. I did. Made it into a five act short to run about 50 minutes.

I liked the story. Nice idea. A couple of dudes pursued by a succubus, a ghost trying to warn them… Even changed the names of all the principle characters. Then things took a dive.

The so-called producer-director-jack of all trades decided to change the direction of the film, got a second writer, rewrote the script, changed the title. When all was said and done (and I was pissed), little of my original story remained, just the original character names that I had changed in the 2nd version and a rewritten barroom scene at a pool table from my original storyline.

Ended up being a two hour film, and (as far as I was concerned) a total disaster. Would have been much better if it had been left the way I had originally written it.

There are a couple of positives to come out of this… 1st, the finished disaster is so different from my original storyline that I can still push MY story without conflict; 2nd, nowhere on the net (such as in the imdb) or in printed industry material is my name associated with it of which I’m eternally grateful (however, if the film is viewed, my name still appears in the credits as co-writer).

Anyway, a bad experience, and I don’t want my name associated with it. In fact, I’m not even going to dignify the film by voicing its name. You want to see that disaster? Don’t waste your time.

Sunday, May 15, 2011


“A fair exchange, wouldn’t you say, my dear?! You for my brain!”

Saturday, May 14, 2011


My new collection of irreverent fantasy satire...available from Includes the following tales -

1. Varnie Proposes Marriage
2. Rasta Booglely-Doo and the Old Seer of Frogtown
4. Sheisgrooby!
5. The Terrible Tragedy of One Colorful Character
6. The Church of the Holy Shaggaho
7. Tale of the Trojan Sphynx
8. Time Warped
9. Billy Space Codger & the December Frog
10. Spaced Out in East Mudbucket
11. Froggenstein’s Monster
12. Brain Transplant
13. Time & Time Again
14. Blue Moons over Widdlydink
15. The Other Slimy Cesspool of a Frog Shit Village
16. The Mesmerizing Sound of Lethargic Radiation

Thursday, May 12, 2011


You can’t see him, but he’s there. Biding his time.

If you walk the night and have that uneasy feeling; he may be there, behind you, in the shadows, reaching…

Wednesday, May 11, 2011


Beth Franklin, artist, paints portraits, but never remembers the work in progress. And her artwork, macabre and nightmarish scenes. Like a burning windmill in the night.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011


Mix a little bit of vampirism with Shakespeare and what do you get? My story "Children of the Light" in issue 12 of HUNGUR magazine...!

Thursday, May 5, 2011


The estate had stood empty for nearly fifteen years. It was secluded, aged and weathered, overgrown with weed and brush. … Some said it was haunted. … No one was really certain. There were no reports of strange events in the house; no one had run screaming of poltergeists; no creaking stairs or rattling chains. Just a rumor. And just a large empty house in a state of disrepair that everyone seemed to ignore or avoid. Except Beth Franklin.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011


Would you dare?

Just try stepping into the flames with Hellfire Publishing. Join Dan, Jen, Robin, Thomas, Kathi, Scarlet, Carson, Sara, Brian, Nishi, Edward, Brett, and others…oh yeah, and I! Coming soon from Hellfire Publishing in eBook form is my short story “A Criminal Portrait.”

Tuesday, May 3, 2011


Wolfgang Schoanburg is coming soon.

(photo by Michael Menefee)