Sunday, February 27, 2011

Some slightly dubious story titles

A while back I remember reading about a B-movie exploitation-flick producer who kept a drawer full of lurid and trashy film titles, ready to be emblazoned over whatever poor film fell into his grubby mitts. I think he might have been a fictional invention, of either Kim Newman or Neil Gaiman if I was forced to guess. Anyway, through a weird quirk of wormholes and other weirdness, this drawer has crossed time, space and the 4th wall, and taken up residency in one of the deeper recesses of my brain.

My short story titles are getting worse. Okay, so I've already used such gems as "The Biggest Tits in the World" and "The Orgy of the Pink Flesh". The last one was even supposed to be vaguely serious.

This weekend I completed a short story entitled "Vampiric Boobies". I'm currently working on a story called "Don't Fuck The Flowers".

In my scrapbook of ideas I have such delights as "Bloodfuckers of Romania" and "The Giant Pussy on the Wall". Not to mention my epic full novel idea - "Porno Fighters from Planet Earth".


Chances of ever being taken remotely serious as a horror writer: nil.

Gonna have to face the awful truth. I'm the reincarnated soul of a sleazebag exploitation skinflick producer from the sixties. There's no hope for me.

Fuck it. Let's have fun. :)

Thursday, February 24, 2011

A Succubus for Valentine's Day available in print!

Hurrah! Whatever issues with getting the print version of A Succubus for Valentine's Day out there have now been resolved. It sounds like the original email request to un-retire it was eaten by the dread Mailer-Daemon monster, never to be seen again.

It's available now from amazon. Or you can even buy it from eXcessica directly.

Here's another little excerpt, this time from The Spiders of Thomisoidus:


Of the list of possible planets to be posted to, Thomisoidus was down in the bottom half. It was a gloomy, brooding place. Vast swathes of the planet’s surface, the only habitable areas, consisted of gigantic twisted trees rising out of a vast primordial bog. The light from Thomisoidus’s sun was so weak the vegetation was all brown, almost verging on black, as if even this small amount of reflected light was grudgingly returned. Beneath the canopy the forest was swathed in perpetual dark gloom. Festooned with decrepit old lines of spider silk, most of the forest Joe had seen resembled the sets from old antique horror flatties.

Thomisoidus wasn’t without its positives. One of them was currently leading their small expeditionary group as a guide.

“We should leave,” Amycis said, checking the silent trees around them. “The fire may attract others.”

Amycis was typical of the Aphantokiles, the indigenous people of Thomisoidus, which meant by Earth standards she was a total babe. She—like all the Aphantokiles—had bright blue skin and long lilac hair. So what, it really didn’t matter when the average Aphantokile had a figure that looked like it had come straight from a Bosom Babe focus node and their cultural philosophy precluded the wearing of any clothes. It wasn’t a surprise The Company used pictures of the Aphantokiles to sucker gullible fools into signing up for five year residency contracts.

Joe was one such fool. He’d been too busy dreaming of a paradise planet populated with blue-skinned alien babes, he’d rushed to sign up before actually bothering to do the research.

Yeah, not so smart. Had he done some checking up first he’d have discovered the things The Company neglected to mention—the endless bogs, the perpetual gloom and the spiders, those damn creepy-eyed giant spiders.

Too late now, he was stuck here, four and a half years still to go on his contract. What a moron.

He consoled himself by watching the lovely curves of Amycis’s ass waggle from side to side as she walked in front of him. Absently, he fantasised about that perfect peach bouncing in his lap even though it was a waste of time. It wasn’t that the Aphantokiles weren’t approachable, it was was complicated.

Joe was woken from his daydream by a sudden crack and cry of surprise. Part of the felled log they were walking on gave way underneath Amycis’s feet and she toppled over the side. They weren’t very far from the ground and it was only a short tumble to the floor below. Thankfully the bog wasn’t so deep here and Amycis had fallen into a shallow section where the water didn’t rise much higher than her calves.

Everything would have been fine—Amycis was unhurt and already getting back to her feet—but then a monstrous spider appeared out of the gloom right behind her.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Beware the 'quick' story ideas...

Blegh. Another weekend gone and about the only writing done was dragging what I thought would be a simple little short story idea painfully over the last thousand words or so needed to complete it.

I've had that happen a few times. Usually I let an idea gestate in my head for a while until it picks up the missing pieces. Sometimes I'll have a story arrive that's nearly already full-formed right away. Then I get the foolish notion to take a break from the current writing project to scribble down the story right away. I mean it's all there. I practically don't have to think. Surely I'll be able to bash that out in a couple of days.

It never works out that way. I wonder if it's because the story already seems so fully formed. It's too rigid. There's scene A to scene B to scene C and chunks of cool dialogue that have to be rammed into the appropriate holes. What seems seamless in the mind doesn't always fit together when typed on a computer screen. Then it becomes a bloody minded exercise to bludgeon the story into place.

It seemed so simple at the start.

Take one arrogant online massage parlour reviewer. Add one savvy receptionist prepared to call bullshit on his wheedling for a discount/freebies. After all, what kind of serious reviewer would announce themselves beforehand. Project further and imagine how the lovely naga, Amanda, would deal with an incredibly rude client and...

Ewww. I thought she was one of my nice ones. Horror-head, did you really have to hijack this?

Thursday, February 17, 2011

A Succubus for Valentine's Day and tales of Perilous Printing

I don't seem to have much luck with CreateSpace. My first book accidentally became available six months before its proper release date. This resulted in some people's orders being cancelled, which was a little embarassing. It happened because the book wasn't sent back into temporary retirement after I got my advance author copies.

This time around the opposite problem has occurred. The book is now out, but the print version is still stubbornly stuck in 'retirement'. Very frustrating.

It's a shame as the print versions produced by CreateSpace are very nice. I wasn't sure what to expect and was really pleased when the copies came through the post. Nothing soothes the savage egomaniac quite like having a book with your own name (okay pseudonym) emblazoned on the spine, sitting on a shelf at home. Aah...

Okay, time to move on before I start sounding like a self-important twunt.

I'm not holding them right now and saying, "Precious". Honest.

Apologies to anyone waiting to get hold of a print version of A Succubus for Valentine's Day. I'll put an announcement on twitter as soon as the technical problems are resolved.

Thanks to everyone who picked up a copy of the ebook. I hope you enjoy it.

Monday, February 14, 2011

The Perfect Valentine's Day Antidote

I think I'm cursed when it comes to marketing. After a couple of weeks hyping up A Succubus for Valentine's Day as coming out on Friday the 11th, it doesn't appear for the kindle until the 12th, I'm still waiting for CreateSpace to unretire the print version so people can buy it and this post is a day late because my internet access went kaput over the weekend.

Anyways, enough griping. It's out.

Here's your antidote to the cloying tide of sugary sweetness that is Valentine's Day.

Not much love, romance, flowers and chocolate here I'm afraid. However, there is plenty of hot, sinful sex with wicked, sensual and deliciously depraved succubi to enjoy. And a few scares as well...

The ebook is available from eXcessica, Amazon, Smashwords and various other online stores.

If you'd like a print version then it can also be purchased from Amazon and eXcessica. I'm still waiting for CreateSpace to unlock it, but hopefully that will happen shortly. (Or I'll send Nÿte!)

Go on, enjoy a little succubus loving this Valentine's Night. You've only got your soul to lose...

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Another excerpt from A Succubus for Valentine's Day

A Succubus for Valentine's Day and other tales of Perilous Pleasures is out on Friday. Here’s another little excerpt to get the juices flowing. This is from Puffed Up, a decidedly non-serious little superhero tale:


“Who are you?” the red-skinned girl asked, staring up at Straight Arrow with green eyes that shone like lamps in the gloom.

Really? She didn’t know who he was? Straight Arrow was astounded. She’d come here, to his city, with the intent to set up a new criminal empire, and she didn’t know who he was. No matter, she’d find out soon enough.

“I’m Straight Arrow,” he answered.

“Come in, Straight Arrow. My pleasures are for all,” Papavia said, her voice smooth and seductive.

“You misunderstand,” Straight Arrow said, striding purposely down the centre of the hall. “I’m here to free these people from your evil influence.”

“Evil?” Mistress Papavia said. “These people come to me of their own free will and I give them pleasure. Don’t I?” she said to the blonde girl in her lap, running a hand tenderly through the girl’s spiky hair.

She opened her legs a little wider and a large puff of white smoke welled up out of her vagina. The blonde girl’s head was engulfed and she squirmed in bliss as she inhaled the fumes. Straight Arrow watched in disgust as she reached down and began to masturbate herself, in public.

“Such a judgemental expression,” the mutant said. “It won’t matter. Soon my vapours will relieve you of your prudish sentiments.”

Straight Arrow laughed.

“Guess again slut-queen.”

Did she really expect him to be that green? Him, the most prepared crime fighter on the East Coast.

He tapped his mask. “Filters,” he said. “Your mutant emissions will have no effect on me.”

He knew, just knew, it would turn out to be a pheromone emitting mutant, or something like it, and had prepared accordingly. That’s why he was the best.

“So, are you going to come quietly or am I going to have to work up a sweat?” Straight Arrow walked down the centre of room towards her. “Believe me, babe, you don’t want me working up a sweat.” He flexed his considerable muscles for added emphasis.

“Mutant?” Papavia said.

She started to rise from her throne. The blonde girl protested sleepily as Papavia moved her head aside.

“Babe!” Papavia snarled.

Her eyes flashed red as she stood upright on her cloven hooves. A pair of wings, black and leathery like a bat’s, unfurled behind her back.

“I am Mistress Papavia, succubus and Arch-Delectatiotrix of the second circle of Hades!”


Hmm. I think our hero might be in a wee bit of bother... Check it out this Friday!

Sunday, February 06, 2011

New manyeyedhydra Stories!

They do exist. I’ve been hoarding them as I aim to hit that half and half ratio between stories I’ll post up on the internet and stories I’ll keep for the anthologies. If you’re feeling withdrawal symptoms, there are three brand new stories in A Succubus for Valentine’s Day and other tales of Perilous Pleasures to look out for.

Puffed Up
An arrogant superhero tracks down the source of a new drug, Sin, hitting the streets. He discovers the drug has a hellish origin. Will his much-vaunted abilities be enough against the magical wiles of a succubus?

Fans of Garth Ennis’s work with series such as The Boys might like this one. Those with a smoke fetish or an inflation fetish might get a little extra from the story. And it goes without saying it’s perfect for fans of femme fatale super-villain vamps.

The Spiders of Thomisoidus
Off we blast into the future for a Science Fiction tale. Poor everyday dude Joe Baneham gets suckered into signing up for a five year commission on what he thought was a paradise planet filled with hot, blue-skinned alien babes. Unfortunately for him, the babes are completely inept at sex and the planet is a swamp-ridden dump infested with monstrous spiders. Things look up when Amycis, one of the beautiful indigenous locals, falls for him. But what dark secrets of her race is she hiding...?

Spiders, silk, blue-skinned alien babes, bondage and plenty of sexy teasing are all present in this little tale of extremely perilous pleasure.

Foam Shower
A guy, a girl and a very steamy shower scene. I put up an excerpt last week here.

Also features foam. Lots and lots of foam.

The other tales have been tweaked and touched up from their original versions. The title tale, A Succubus for Valentine’s Day, has a different ending to before. It’s even nastier. Beware of cutesy-looking succubi that are summoned from black stone tablets, especially when they offer to play Cupid. Brrr....

A Succubus for Valentine’s Day and other tales of Perilous Pleasures, out next week from all good online ebook stores. Please support me and buy a copy so I can continue to corrupt the internet with my twisted tales of perverse pleasures. ;)

Thursday, February 03, 2011

Valentine's Day Variety Box

One of the things I noticed when putting together the stories for A Succubus for Valentine's Day was the variety. There's a sequence in the collection that runs from Harry Potter parody, to superhero story, to science fiction set in the future, to modern-day horror, to swords & sorcery fantasy, and then to a story with gangster elements. That's variety. Whether or not that's a good thing...

Well it scares the shit out of me to be honest.

Now, I could try and run the usual arrogant bastard bullshit and burble some nonsense about transcending genres. And then someone else could make some catty remarks about firing blindly with a blunderbuss in the hope of hitting the target, any target.

Variety isn't a bad thing. It keeps things from getting predictable. Too much and a collection goes all patchy, like buying the new album from a favourite band only to find there's two decent tracks, a real stinker that's unlistenable, and a whole bunch of meh to round it out.

I think I'm okay on this one. The settings vary, but the stories are all essentially horror. The femme fatales are sexy and the sex is blistering hot. Job done, as I hope you'll find out next Friday.