100 Word Song – Ho Hey by The Lumineers

•April 27, 2013 • 1 Comment

Hey Leeroy, I’m back.  Here is my weekly entry to Lance’s 100 Word Song.


He slowly walked down the gravel road kicking the stones in front of him.  His shirt was half un-tucked and his jacket was slung over his shoulder.  He was carrying a half empty six pack in his left hand, while drinking one in his right.  The wounds on his face and hands still fresh from the previous night.  He never did right by her no matter how hard he tried.  This time though; this last visit home; he did right by her.  He could feel her smiling at him as he walked out under the cemetery gates.

The Fight Within – I

•April 27, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Sorry to be so wordy with the first entry of my new serial, but I promise to keep them shorter going forward.

This entry is brought to you by How to Destroy Angels “The Loop Closes.”


The doorbell rang.  Murphy heard it from his deck overlooking the lake.  He was leaning on both forearms against the railing staring at all the boats anchored in the southern bay of the lake.  The laughter of the boats occupants enjoying the warm late June night breeze livened his mood slightly, but he was sure whoever was at his door was going to kill that buzz pretty quickly.  He took a pull from his Coors Light tall boy as he turned inside.

Murphy had an idea who it was before he even answered the door.  The word had made its way to him.  He opened the door to two men.  One had to be in his late sixties with thinning charcoal hair.  He was tall and lanky, almost gaunt.  Murphy could tell right away he was European, most likely an Italian.  The other man he already knew.  He was forty years old with jet black hair tied back into a ponytail just below his collar.

“Well I thought you guys always traveled with a young priest and an old priest, not an old priest and an older priest.”  Murphy said as he stepped aside and waved them in.

“Nice to see you again Murphy,” Father Patrick said.  They didn’t exchange handshakes.  The elder priest walked in with his head facing the floor as if he was inspecting the hardwood flooring in the entranceway.  The air in the room changed with his entrance.   “I’d like to introduce you to Father Theosius.  He has come in from Italy to assist me with the recent news.”  It was at this introduction that Father Theosius finally looked at Murphy, directly into his eyes.   Murphy knew Italy meant Vatican City.

“It is hard to carry so much evil with you Father, is it not?”  Murphy said as he glared into his jaundice eyes.  He knew everything of this man already, and they both knew it.  He led the two men into his dining room and offered them a seat at the table.  Murphy walked past the table and closed the door to his den.

“I don’t know where he is Patrick.  I haven’t spoken to him in almost five years. ” Murphy said unprovoked.  He had no love or use for the church or their mythos.

“Have you heard any word from him at all, or do you know who he might be working with now?”

“No I do not, nor do I care.  My question is why the church has brought in a Junior Chief Exorcist all the way from the Vatican.  The Father must be on to something to garner this much attention.”  There was a slight reaction from the older priest at this statement.

“You know of me.  Then you know why I am here.  I do not care about you or your business in this life.  We need to locate the Father.”  He said sternly as if lecturing a class full seminary students.

“You have not done well in voiding yourself of the evil you face Father Theosius.  It resonates in your words.”  Murphy said allowing the fact that he was so pissed off at this man’s presence to come through in his tone.  Father Patrick interjected.

“Murphy, it is critical that we find him.  There is talk that he has found the passage and the Church is extremely concerned over this.”  It was then that Murphy noticed their attire.  Neither one of them were wearing their clerical collars.

“Does your Bishop know you are here?”  Murphy asked.

“Murphy, we need to find the Father.  Did you hear me….”

“The passage doesn’t exist Zachary.  It is gone.  Society is too far gone.”  Murphy said as he stood up and walked into his kitchen to grab another beer.

“Murphy.  You have spent the past ten years of your life looking for this passage to help your brother and now you have no faith?”  Father Patrick asked him quizzically.  Murphy closed the refrigerator door and walked back into the dining room with a new tall boy.

“Father, please don’t speak of my brother, and you know I never had faith and that is your weakness and will be your ultimate downfall.  I help individuals; not enable the further corruption of the Church.  The passage was a delusional idea brought on by extreme guilt and pain.  I think we are done here.”  Both priests stood and headed to the door.

“Murphy, I’m sorry you’ve lost your way.  I’ll pray for you.”  Father Patrick said and walked out the door.

“Please don’t.”  Murphy said.  Father Theosius followed him but clasped Murphy’s right forearm on the way out.

“I keep the evil near me as a reminder and weapon of what we are up against.  You should remind yourself of the war you inserted yourself into, or we may have to.”  He said coldly and left.

Murphy closed the door and headed to his den shaking his right forearm, “Damn that old man was strong.”  He opened the door and went to his desk.  The room was covered floor to ceiling with maps of the Northeast with every location he has worked a case dating back to his time with the Father.  There were bibles strewn across the room, along with several reference books to ghosts, spirits and evil.  Multiple computers were trolling websites for hits.  He had the International Association of Exorcists hierarchy on one wall, similar to how the FBI frames out a crime family. There were multiple whiteboards with notes and scribbles all around a central phrase.  Everything in the room circled this phrase, “Find the Passage”.

The doorbell rang again.  Murphy swore out loud assuming it was Father Patrick again.  He swung open the front door without even checking to see who it was.  In front of him stood a young priest, very young, and he was wearing his clerical collar.  Murphy did not recognize him, but he looked like a deer stuck in headlights.

“Who are you?” He barked.

“The Father sent me to get you.”  The meek priest chirped.

I’m Back… Hopefully

•April 27, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Have I mentioned I am bad blogger?  I think I have, but regardless of that I have been gone for too long.  I keep telling myself I am going to write today or this weekend, well those days and weekends have turned into an eight month absence.  I am coming back with a serial piece and my goal is to post something at least once a week.  I’m crossing my fingers in hopes I can do it.

100 Word Song – Swing Life Away

•August 11, 2012 • 4 Comments

So I usually try to write this dark suspenseful/ sci-fy stuff (emphasis on try), but I am making a concentrated effort to venture out a bit with these prompts by Lance because I am sure people don’t want to read the same shit from me all the time.  So here is a stand alone entry to Leeroy’s latest challenge.  Please go visit Lance’s 100 Word Song weekly challenge if you want a change of pace.


The beer can exploded off the wall. 

She jumped slightly at the splash of cold beer on her face.  The only illumination in the room was from one of his candles. 

“Don’t get mad at me!  Your decision!  Your choice!”  She yelled at him without moving.  She had no fear of him; she felt something different.

“You’re sleeping with all of my friends!  How am I supposed to react?”

“It’s a coincidence?  This is what you wanted isn’t it?”  She asked flatly.

“I do not know.  I cannot see in the future.”

“Neither can I.”  She said and left.

100 Word Song – I Cut Like A Buffalo

•August 3, 2012 • 2 Comments

Hey, I am back, sorry for the absence but I will never leave Lance and Leeroy and their 100 Word Song, so here is a nice stand alone entry to a little Jack White.


The thing about a mark is they are beautiful people, so unabashedly helpful, no qualms whatsoever.

“Ralph where the hell is that six foot blond woman?” yelled Agent Dickey.

“What women Bill? There was no woman, just one of those anthropomorphic people from the conference. You know the Furries?” Agent White said.

“Wait… Ralph… where is Mrs. Romeny’s briefcase?” Barked Agent Dickey.

“Oh, I set that down right next to the buffalo fella,” I said and looked back for the briefcase.

“Oh shit!”

“Yeah, oh shit Ralphie.  Jesus don’t tell me a cross-dressing buffalo woman stole Mrs. Romeny’s sex case!”

I am a bad blogger…

•August 3, 2012 • 5 Comments

So, I’m a bad blogger.  Sorry to my few followers, but I’ll have you know I’ve followed all of your blogs over the past six weeks or so of being absent.  There is no main reason for not blogging, just haven’t done it.  I started writing again at the behest of my old friend Mrs. Baldman and the timing was perfect.  I was having a lot of personal stress and writing is my way to deal with stress.  I don’t work out or meditate or do anything else like that so writing helped.  That stressful period passed and I didn’t need the outlet any longer, so I slowly trailed off, but I kept following and reading.  I’ve kept up with Helene, Dex, Sinistral, Clive, Millicent, Leeroy and all the other posts from the bloggers I follow.

So to my few followers, I’m sorry for not being a better blogger.  Will I become more frequent in my posts, who knows.  I don’t write personal posts, just fiction baby and I’m going to keep it that way, but I’m going to take a different approach.  I like the weekly prompts with different topics, so I’m going to keep doing those.  I am going to moth ball Sealed Records for a while since this was a labor of love of mine since high school and quite honestly I am not feeling it right now.  I’m going to start a new serial fiction up and continue with the prompts.

I have to give a shout out to Eric over at Sinistral Scribblings.  His very personal piece about blogging and his writing project really moved me to get back into blogging.  That’s all I am going to say about that since he might never read this, but if he does I want him to know that people do read your blog and love your passion, so thanks for blogging Eric.

Anywho…. whoopty shit about my soliloquy to myself…. on to more fiction kiddos!

100 Word Song- Grey Street by DMB

•June 23, 2012 • 1 Comment

I love me some DMB!  This is a great song and a good way to do some back story of the characters from my story Sealed Records.  Head on over to Lance’s 100 Word Song to get in on the fun.


Dallas cradled Lambert’s head oblivious to the swirling smoke caused by the helicopters or the weed plants whipping around him.

The fire was spreading and the bullets were very real.

Lambert’s face was grey.  The entire scene was grey.  The smoke clouds couldn’t rise due to the downdraft from the helicopters and the morning mist couldn’t rise off the ground above the smoke; causing a layer cake effect.

Billy, Burke and Dietrich all came sliding next to Dallas.

“Is she alive?”

“She needs to get her out of here now!”

They all saw her grey face.

They were all accountable.