Terror Tuesday: 'Tis Not the Season

It seemed too soon, on January third,
To take down her most gorgeous Christmas tree,
And so she left it up, but gave her word
That ere the month was over it would be
Back in its box. Weeks passed, and months did, too.
Then one spring night, when she had come home late
From revels in the warmer weather -- true,
I swear it! -- she did trip and seal her fate.
The string of lights glowed red and wrapped around
Her limbs to hold her fast, as ornaments
Flew at her face and shattered! She lay, bound
And lacerated in a most intense
And gory crime scene after weeks had passed.
Was it an accident? Revenge at last?

Monster Monday:THE MENDIEM MENACE

Antarctica: a place of mystery,
Of ice and bitter cold and loneliness,
Would seem to most of us, indeed, to be
A perfect place to get away from stress.
So thought the Yeti, always on the run
From mountaineering paparazzi types.
By unknown means he made it to the one
True hiding spot, he thought, but here the hype
Turned out to be just that; the Pole was packed
With fire-breathing giant penguins, who
Attacked en masse. Just one of them he whacked

Into defeat. That pacified the crew.
Such unexpected glories life can bring!
The Kaiju Penguins have a Yeti King.

Superhero Sunday: How Handy Saved Jim Dandy

Jim Dandy had been kidnapped once again.
He'd been mistaken, just like always, for
His Doppelganger, handsome Beyond Ken,
Whose wife was rich, bought houses by the score,
And always picked the winning stocks. Once she
Did notice the misplaced and misspelled note
Demanding ransom, she told Ken to be
A doll, and call up Handy Miss. “They wrote
In crayon this time, I see. Oh please, find that man
Before they hurt him.” Handy Miss agreed.
Her latest gadget, planted, per her plan
On Jim last time, broadcast the foolish deed
O’er all Bluetooth devices within range.
Jim Dandy wasn't captive long. How strange!

Coming soon!

I sent the last page proofs off to my book designer today, so it feels like a good time to do a cheeky partial cover reveal for the first volume of Pulp Sonnets, coming soon to a book retailer near you!

The cover is the work of Modest God of Art Scott E. Pond. The book also contains really cool interior illustrations by one of my favorite indie comics artists, M.R. Neno. It has updated and remixed (heh) versions of all of Year One's Pulp Sonnets and I'm very excited to finally be bringing it to you after a very rough year for my entire team.

Watch this space for details...

Throwback Thursday: Going Hungry for a Cause

The seventh day of siege dawned bright and cold
And windless. In the highest tower, where
The women, and the young, and very old
Were gathered for protection and for care,
Within the lady's bedroom, breakfast cooked
Before her spacious fireplace. The fear
Was just more to be coped with. Tally looked
A moment to the outside, heard a cheer
That wasn't the defenders, screamed and ran
To tell the head cook. As the hooks and ropes
Caught on the castle's walks, the fight began
In earnest. And the lovely stew that spat
And bubbled on the hearth? A weapon, that!

Weird Wednesday: Not in Wonderland, Part XXIV

Her wand'rings brought her to a spot replete
With solar panels, coated in fine dust,
But mayhap working still. She tried to beat
Them in with her bare hands, but then, as must
Occur sometimes, she wised up and went back.
Her erstwhile rifle's stock would better serve.
She smashed them good, e'en unto all the black
Behind the glass, and while she had the nerve
Ripped out the wires and pipes that did connect
The panels to a building standing near.
"Come out and fight me, buddy. Look, I've wrecked
Your little power station!" With no fear
She stood there, arms akimbo. Alice meant
To force a confrontation. Time well spent.

Terror Tuesday: My Special Brew

Oh, do please try this tea; it's just the best.
I harvest it myself from out in back.
I just cut this, this morning. Careful, lest
You spill it. Blossoms such as these, they lack
Robustness, and are thus quite hard to grow.
Oh, I just have the knack, I guess. One learns
By doing. Say, does anybody know
If that poor girl has turned up? Oh, it burns?
It's not that hot, is it? Oh, wait, I get
Your meaning. It's quite tart. Acquired taste,
Perhaps. So no, she's missing still? I bet
The flowers will love her. Oh, I spoke in haste!
It's "would" I meant. Don't edge away, my dear.
You can't escape, and must drink up, I fear.