Evan Grant

An author specializing in the dark and fantastical

Shotgun Grandma: Volume 2 (Preview)

It’s about a month later than I would’ve liked, but Volume 2 of Shotgun Grandma is now available! If you haven’t read Volume 1 yet, now’s the time. It’s on a free promotional run until 12/2, so grab it for free while you can. For those of you who have already read Volume 1, I’ve added a sample chapter from Volume 2 below. Give it a read and let me know what you think!

Shotgun Grandma: Volume 2 Cover

Chapter 1

“Danny Boy”


Danny Cho sat on a case of unopened beer with his arms in his sleeves and seven empty cans of Red Bull at his feet. The low hum of the cooler fan never slowed, and the smell of mildew filled the air. Danny’s teeth began chattering within the first hour of voluntarily barricading himself in the Shell station walk-in cooler. He didn’t know how long it had been since, but if he had to guess he would think it had been fifteen hours at least. What worried him most was that he could no longer feel the tips of his fingers. It didn’t take a doctor to realize that was a bad sign. He would’ve been screwed had there not been a coat hanging up inside.

Barely audible over the fan was a soft clicking to Danny’s left.

He glanced over with annoyance. He already knew what it was. It had been just as persistent as the fan that breathed cold doom into his refrigerated prison.

The zombie wore a bright red stocking cap with a logo skewed to the side—it was illegible—but Danny guessed it was a heavy metal band. The long sharp text folded together like a patchwork of thorns keeping its identity a secret from the world, albeit from one of surely dozens of fans who ventured to a band merch site and happily clicked the buy button. Strands of hair that stuck together as if wet poked out from underneath the hat and fell almost at shoulder length. Blood soaked the zombie’s mouth and it clattered its teeth together as it watched Danny from the small viewing window on the other side.

“I wonder how the living you would’ve felt about being a glorified prison warden,” Danny said to the window. Then he snorted realizing that whoever the zombie had been before, probably would’ve thought his new condition to be “pretty metal”. He knew the types. There were a few in his school. Not really bad people, just a bit too rowdy for his taste. Not to mention the wrong crowd to fall into for someone trying for a free ride scholarship.

Danny had been on his way to Emma’s when he stopped to get gas and Emma’s favorite candy, Twizzlers. He was in line when the first zombie rushed into the convenience store.

The thought of the attack brought Danny’s attention through metal shelves holding countless bottles of soda and through the glass cooler doors to catch a glimpse of said zombie. It stood stupidly staring at the cash register behind the counter. That’s where it had found its first victim—the gas station clerk. The zombie was a fat balding man with tan colored sweatshirt covered in spots of blood and a bright vest that must’ve been from a construction site.

Danny had always thought of himself as a hero. Not in real life, but he fantasized about it often. He wanted to be just like his favorite sword-wielding anime character, Obaki, who would have never run from a fight. He was the scariest character in the show, but only to the villains. He was a gentle-spirit, but when it came to a fight, he could never back down from the challenge. And when his bloodlust was strong, he was unstoppable—a killing machine with three great swords that he used to chop armies in half… Danny was not that guy though.

When the dead construction worker rushed into the store, Danny froze. If he hadn’t been off to the side of the entrance he could’ve easily been the zombie’s first target. And he’d seen firsthand how that would’ve turned out. The clerk barely had time to scream before the undead man began ripping him apart. More zombies filtered in from the street, probably hearing the screams as what they were—a dinner bell. When more came in, Danny did the one thing that Obaki never did… He ran. He ran straight for the back. He didn’t stop when more people began to scream and the only reason he even stopped at the cooler was because of the red-hatted zombie that still stood guard outside the door. It had sighted him early and chased him the whole way. The only fight Danny put up was to throw the Twizzlers and eventually his phone at his pursuer, which turned out to be a huge mistake. Neither distracted the zombie and now he sat trapped in a cooler with no way of calling for help or even to check on Emma.

The thought of her brought a pang of guilt to his gut. Danny was her boyfriend. He should be there to comfort and protect her, but instead, he got himself trapped fleeing like a coward. How was she doing through all this? Was she even alive? What Danny would give just to know if she was okay…

He could see his phone still lying on the floor outside the cooler doors. The back of his phone case—three-crossing swords with a bloody banner curling around them with the title, Sword Grinder within—taunted him. Communication was so close…

The red-hatted zombie continued to tap on the glass outside.

Yet so far away.

From what Danny was able to make out from the hours of his entrapment was that there were only two zombies in the whole store—red-hat outside and the construction worker behind the register. When hell broke loose before, a couple people must’ve made it outside because most of the herd that broke in fled after them, and the few who found meals wandered off after a while. Only two. Danny could handle two dead-brains… Couldn’t he? He had been in this predicament for hours and he’d never tried. He thought the Red Bulls might pump him up with enough courage to run out there just like Obaki would, but after seven cans the only thing accounted for was an abundance of urine and possible heart palpitations. Danny was ashamed that he allowed himself to sit here this long. What if Emma was still alive out there? Even worse, what if she was wandering around out there trying to find him? No one would ever find him in this damn cooler. He had to do something, if not for himself, then for Emma.

Danny stood locking eyes with the zombie pawing at the viewing window of the cooler door. His heart beat wildly and he could feel the slightest tingle in his fingertips. He looked around for something to use against the red-hatted undead rebel and came up short other than a box cutter with a plastic safety guard. He settled on a forty-ounce brown bottle of beer and the coldness of it stole away the little feeling he had just gained in his fingers. Before Danny could open the cooler door latch, movement outside the doors caught his attention.

Someone in a military-green jacket and matching duffel bag slunk about one of the shelves of chips and stopped just before one of the cooler doors. This close, Danny could see that it was a guy not much older than him—probably just out of high school—with hair buzzed short and a lean face. His attire and the way he moved screamed military and Danny dared to hope.

When the cooler door opened, the mystery figure began grabbing water bottles and placing them into his bag with care.

Danny turned back to look at the viewing window and the red-hatted zombie was still in sight. Whoever this guy was he was good. He barely made a sound as he worked. If Danny hadn’t seen him, he probably would’ve never realized he was there. Neither zombie seemed to notice either. But this was clearly not a rescue mission. For one, the guy was alone. For two, he was stuffing water bottles into a bag, most likely for himself, so the thought of a military rescue seemed out of the question at this point. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help Danny. The guy seemed capable and Danny had caught a glimpse of a large knife at the guy’s belt, logic would dictate that he knew how to use it. It was better than a beer bottle at any rate. This was Danny’s shot—probably his only shot—out of the cooler.

As another water bottle glided off the shelf, Danny leaned in closer from the opposite side of the door hoping to whisper to the newcomer, but then something awful happened…

A loud tune that went off every day at 4:30 AM—the tune that announced it was time for Danny to get out of bed and get in an early study session before school—played over the vibrations of a phone on a tile floor.

The phone was only feet away from the guy in the military jacket and he was quick to react. He was on top of the phone in a split second—and instead of silencing it like a normal person would do—the guy stomped it with a heavy boot. To his credit, the alarm stopped, but it was too late. The undead construction worker behind the register was already moving toward what created the sound and when Danny checked the viewing window, red-hat was gone too.

Gripping the bottle neck-in-hand, Danny ran for the cooler door. He was just in time to see the back of a shambling form in a red hat pushing open a saloon door leading to the storefront. Danny followed suit and when he turned the corner, GI Joe was viciously knifing the construction worker who had a firm grasp on his jacket collar. The red hat zombie was nearly on top of the two of them.

Not thinking, Danny yelled and launched the beer bottle toward the zombie. To his surprise, it caught the zombie’s attention and the bottle connected with its forehead. It stumbled backward, but only for a second. Then, it began heading toward Danny… And fast.

Something comparable to a dog whimper escaped from Danny’s lips and he turned to flee back into the cooler. He could hear the shuffling and wet rasps of the zombie behind him and he turned as they grew louder.

The zombie outstretched a contorted hand toward Danny, but it was stopped before it could grab hold. An arm hooked around the red-hat zombie and a knife found its way into the zombie’s temple. It went limp and the rasps gurgled out of existence.

When the body dropped, GI Joe became visible. His green jacket was pocked with inky spots of blood and he was sheathing his knife, eyes locked onto Danny.

“Thanks,” Danny muttered. His hands were shaking and tingled with life now that they had been exposed to the warmth of the store. “My name’s Danny,” he said feeling uncomfortable. The military-looking guy didn’t say anything; he just kept staring like he was sizing Danny up.

“Where’d you come from?” GI Joe finally said.

“I was in the cooler,” Danny said pointing a thumb back. “I hid in there when things started to go down.” Danny instantly regretted mentioning hiding. It wasn’t a very flattering thing to admit, but this guy was making him nervous and it just kind of came out.

To his surprise, the military-looking guy seemed to accept this answer. He nodded and went back toward where his bag had dropped during the scuffle.

“So… Sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Danny said.

“I didn’t give it.”

Nice guy, Danny thought. Maybe not a nice guy, but he was a capable one. As much as he wanted to be, Danny wasn’t. He had run away twice now, only working up enough courage to throw a bottle before fleeing. If he was going to make it back to Emma, he would need help. Convincing this guy for help might be a lost cause, but he had to try.

“Where are you heading?” Danny asked, changing the subject.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” GI Joe said while stuffing his bag full of beef jerky. “Why? What’s it to you?”

“Well, I was going to offer you a ride. My truck’s still parked out front. I just have to check on someone first if you didn’t mind a detour.”

The military-looking guy walked over and Danny flinched when he grew close. “You got any weapons? Gun, knife, anything like that?”

“Nooo,” Danny said confused. “Should I?”

“Yeah, you should.”

Danny swallowed hard. Did he make a mistake in trusting this guy? He didn’t know anything about him other than he seemed very comfortable with violence. He could easily just kill Danny and take his keys away if he wanted. The cooler seemed to be calling to Danny at this point.

“I’ll take you up on that ride. Name’s Tyler by the way.” He extended a hand toward Danny while shouldering his bag on his back.

Danny clasped Tyler’s hand a little confused, but happy he wasn’t about to be murdered. He couldn’t help but notice as Tyler’s jacket sleeve pulled up, a thick scar that banded around his wrist. At first glance, Danny thought maybe Tyler could have had a dance with a suicide at one point, but the mark was different; it was too thick, and it went the whole circumference of his arm.

Tyler noticed Danny staring and he pulled his arm back.

Danny did his best to avoid eye contact with Tyler after realizing his mistake. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to—.”

“It’s nothing,” Tyler said sharply. “You might want to grab a few things while you can. I don’t know if you’ve seen what’s out there yet, but I don’t think anyone’s coming to the rescue.” He pulled a mesh shopping bag off of a rack and threw it at Danny, who caught it in turn. “Then we can go.”

“Remember, there’s a detour,” Danny said. “First things first, I’m picking up my girlfriend before I go anywhere else.”

A look of pity flashed across Tyler’s face. “Sure we are,” he said but didn’t elaborate further. “Make sure to grab water,” he called over his shoulder as he walked out the door and sat waiting on the sidewalk.

Danny still stood in place, mesh bag draped in his arms, and a new sense of dread creeping up his spine. What was happening out there?

Available at Amazon

2017 Publishing Schedule

We made it to October. I heard rumors that the world would end on September 23rd. Lucky for us, the doom and gloomers were wrong… again. I’ll admit it was getting a little sketchy there for a while with the hurricanes, earthquakes, and wildfires though. It was enough for me to think that maybe, quite possibly… we were all going to suffer the same fate as the dinosaurs and die horrible deaths. Did I look into purchasing a timeshare at my local survival bunker? Possibly. Was said bunker affordable? No. Not even a little bit. So, good thing we made it!

Anyway, I thought I’d just stop by and let everyone know what I’m up to. The first draft for “Shotgun Grandma: Volume 2” is nearly complete. If I’m able to get my shit together and buckle down, I can probably have the manuscript cleaned up and ready for publication by October 31st. But then again, I’m also elbow deep in a school project where I have to design and build a database from scratch, so we’ll see.

If you haven’t already noticed, “Shotgun Grandma: Volume 1” is now available in print. I haven’t received the proof yet, so I’m not sure how it will look, but if it looks nice I’ll be happy to pass along a free copy to my mailing list. I was supposed to receive my first copy on October 21st, but it doesn’t look like that is going to happen.

I have a few other projects mapped out and some short stories finished, but I’ll be saving those for a collection. I’ve added my publishing schedule below if anyone is curious. I have plans to write all over the place, so this could get interesting. Choosing what will take precedent over the other has been a nightmare, so if there’s anything you guys are wanting first; don’t be afraid to let me know. Just jump over to the contact page and send me an email, comment on this post, or even better let me know on my Facebook page. Which if you haven’t visited yet… Shame on you.

Shame, Shame, Shame

I’m just joking. It’s not like I advertise that I have one. But if you’re curious, check it out. There’s the occasional update on there, but mostly what you’ll find is posts consisting of obscene memes and GIFs.

I think that about does it for updates. I’d like to give a shout out to those of you who have left me reviews… You all are the best! Reviews are hard to come by and they’re important to the success of the author, so thank you, thank you, thank you for taking the time out of your day.

I guess I should get back to work now if I’m going to have “Shotgun Grandma: Volume 2” ready in time. Until then, cheers and happy reading!

Publishing Schedule

  • Shotgun Grandma: Volume 2 (October ’17) Horror
  • Shotgun Grandma: Volume 3 (November ’17) Horror
  • Ghost Blade (December ’17) Fantasy
  • Dreadful Delights: A Horror Collection (January ’18) Horror
  • Neon Skies (February ’18) Sci-fi

Dancing with the Dead

Readers, crawlers, and spammers; lend me your ears (eyes?)!

I have a new title available on Amazon; “Dancing with the Dead“. It’s another horror short—or maybe novelette—about 40 pages long. “Dancing with the Dead” is my attempt at a haunted house story. I hope it’s an enjoyable read; I’m pretty proud of it. Let me know what you think and thanks for all the support!

Cheers and happy reading.

Dancing with the Dead

The Arceneau House has always been shrouded in mystery, but after the disappearances, Allison Fisher has thought of little else. As a reporter, she sees it as her duty to get to the bottom of the story. Now that the estate is under contract and leaving the family for the first time, Allison has her chance. And after her recent tragedy, she wants nothing more than a return to normalcy. Little does she know, that nothing normal awaits her in the Arceneau House.

Available at amazon.com


Quitting Life

I started this post with the title, and already I can see where I might get myself in trouble. First off, I’m not suicidal. I chose that title for a reason. Bear with me, it will all make sense later; I promise.

It’s been about three months between releases and though that’s not awfully long, I don’t write opuses, so there’s no reason I shouldn’t have new content out. I feel like I owe an explanation for the delay, so here it goes… I’m quitting life (there’s that title again). Not life in general, but the life I have lived since turning eighteen.

I use to have a very 1950’s view on the American dream. By the time I graduated high school, I worked four different jobs. That’s no exaggeration, though I’ll admit it didn’t last long. A weekly sleep allowance of thirty-five hours wasn’t working for me. After about a month of this routine, I had to drop two of the jobs, but I made enough money during that time to buy an engagement ring for my high school sweetheart. About seven months later, we were married. The wedding and honeymoon were mostly paid for by myself and new wife, so it wasn’t extravagant.

Within another six months, I was still working two jobs, but I switched out a minimum wage job for a sales job making about 40K a year. The new job allowed us to purchase our very first home. And there we had it… the American dream; all within one year of graduating high school. Most of our friends were just now deciding if they wanted to go to college, and here we had already achieved what takes others a decade. And we did it with little to no help.

It didn’t last long though. About this time, the economy crashed. My wife lost her job, forcing her to take a minimum wage job. At the same time, I lost both of my jobs as well, which put me on a cycle of working as a contractor doing whatever I could to bring food to the table. I worked a lot of odd jobs during this time; from retail, to factory work, to eventually driving a forklift. None of these paid well. We were barely scraping by before I landed a job at a call center making a decent living wage. My wife decided to go to college, and she worked full-time while going to night classes. She is now the first person in her family to graduate with a degree (proud of you pretty girl!).

Through the years, we have worked our way back to the point where we can support ourselves without fear of losing everything. We live paycheck to paycheck, but we don’t have to wonder how we’re going to pay for gas to get to work, or budget in a pair of shoes months in advance anymore. I guess you can say we got comfortable. As we grew more comfortable financially, we both grew uncomfortable in life. Neither of us like what we’re doing. To borrow from Tyler Durden, we work 9-5 jobs that we hate, for shit we don’t need. Besides the fact that we have student loans to pay for now, and are not growing financially, we want more from life. My wife dreams of traveling to new places and helping people for a living. I want to be a writer and create for a living. In short, we both want to unplug from a system we don’t believe in anymore.

Now, looking back, what I’ve told you so far sounds like a bitchfest… Believe me when I say it’s not. I am grateful for what we have and everything we have achieved. In truth, our story has been a testament to what is possible in this country even without college degrees (I’m in school now, but haven’t utilized it as of yet). But life is short. Neither of us wants to spend a majority of our lives doing shit we hate. That’s why we’re quitting life (sensing a theme yet?).

One day we got together and brainstormed ideas to get what we both want out of life. We both agreed, that the quickest solution was to get out of our mortgage. After the market crashed, we instantly owed more than our house was worth. Now that the economy has recovered, we can actually make a small profit. Which brings me all the way back to why I don’t have a new release this month. We just, within the past two weeks, closed on our house. We didn’t even put the house on the market and yet we had it sold within three months of coming to the conclusion we needed a change. We made a small profit and used it to pay down a lot of our debt. Now, we’re saving and working towards our dreams. Within a year, we plan to completely unplug from the 9-5 system and become self-sufficient.

Both my wife and I still kept our day jobs. I’m also still in school, so I’m not completely free of responsibilities to focus on writing, but it’s a step in the right direction. I’ll admit the change so far has been scary… but also exciting. I can’t wait to see what we’re able to achieve in this next year.

Now that that’s all out there… Quitting life. I actually got that title from a friend. When my wife and I told him our plans, he was very supportive. In fact, we wouldn’t have been able to move in time if it wasn’t for his help (thanks, Zack!). When he explained what we were doing to others, he explained it as we were “quitting life”. It became an inside joke between the three of us, and so I found it appropriate to use the title.

As far as content is concerned, don’t worry. I’ll have a new release in September. Those of you on the list will get a heads up on the release date and it will be free for that first couple of days. Now, that I’m settling into a rhythm, I’ll have more content on a regular basis.

Until then, cheers and happy reading!

Shotgun Grandma (Preview)

Hello, readers!

The project I mentioned in my last post is now live; Shotgun Grandma is available on Amazon and through Kindle Unlimited. It will be free through Friday (6/9), so now is a good time to give it a try if you haven’t already. I hope you enjoy it!


Shotgun Grandma: Volume 1

Shotgun Grandma: Volume 1 (Sample)


Chapter 1

“A Killer Beginning”

The coffee house was in chaos. A girl with dyed red hair and a nose ring worked the register, while a teenage boy with a fresh case of acne ran back and forth from the expresso machines to the counter. The girl wore a smile, but stress lined the rest of her face. The pair of workers were barely treading water. The line of customers backed up all the way to the front door, and the drive-thru wrapped around the building and into the street.

Murmurs, laughter, and the dings of different phone notifications filled the crowded shop. The noises fed the headache scratching at the surface of Meghan Hall’s skull. She needed her caffeine.

Meghan checked the time on her phone, growing impatient. She had been in line for almost twenty minutes and it was already eight-seventeen; her test started at eight-thirty. She would’ve bailed after seeing the drive-thru line, but she wasn’t about to take her statistics final without a mocha-latte first. That would only guarantee a bad grade.

With all of the bodies packed so tightly, and with the aid of the morning sun beaming in through the windows, the store had grown uncomfortably warm. Meghan wished she had woken up early enough to have taken a shower, but she slept in, so for her it was a beanie day. The long sleeve button up and tights weren’t helping either. Meghan decided that this was her punishment for waiting to schedule the final until last minute, leaving her with a Saturday appointment to take the test.

As miserable as she was at the moment, it could’ve been worse. Meghan was happy that the aroma of coffee overpowered the other smells that could be filling the room instead. The guy in front of her looked particularly raunchy. He was big—a bodybuilder type—maybe in his thirties, wearing a hooded sweatshirt with dark sweat stains ringing his armpits and back. His hair was matted to his head and beads of sweat glistened off of him. He either had the workout of his life, or he was dying. Meghan figured she didn’t want to be down wind of him either way.

“Let’s go!” A man cried near the front of the line. “Some of us have real jobs to get to. How hard can it be to make a coffee? The machine does the work for you.”

Meghan rolled her eyes at the comment, though she too was in a hurry.

The red-haired girl behind the counter gave the man a sharp look. “Dude, chill. We’re doing the best we can. We’re a little short-staffed today.”

The acne-ridden boy was clearly feeling the pressure. He ran back toward the register, a cup in each hand, neither having secured lids. His hip caught on the counter and both coffees spilled over his hands and onto the floor. The scolding liquid made him cry out and drop what was left.

A chorus of moans filled the storefront.

Meghan couldn’t help but feel the same way. She was already pushing past the time she needed to make it into class, given there was no traffic on the way.

“Nice one!” A boy yelled from behind Meghan. The comment brought a few snickers from the line.

The boy turned dark red, probably both from the pain and the embarrassment.

The red-haired girl bent down, picking up the two cups and said something to the boy, but Meghan couldn’t make it out. She probably told him to go wash up or get a medical kit because the boy disappeared into the back.

“Look,” said the man who had first issued a complaint. “I’ll give you fifty dollars to just get me my coffee right now. That should be enough money to get all kinds of metal to stick in your face. What do you say?”

Meghan leaned over to catch sight of the man. He looked like someone’s dad. He wore a bright polo with black dress pants, and a phone was clipped to his belt. His dark brown hair was full and combed to the side. He definitely didn’t look like someone who would have a superiority complex, but then again assholes come in all shapes and sizes.

“I’d say to get bent dude,” the red-haired girl said. “Go get your coffee somewhere else.”

About that time, the sweaty weightlifter in front of Meghan fell to the ground. He didn’t even try and catch himself. He just dropped straight down, his body slapping on the tile floor.

Meghan jumped in surprise and started to back away as an older woman rushed to his side.

“Jesus Christ!” The asshole dad said. “This place is a shit-show. Have fun with that,” he added pointing at the weightlifter on the floor. “I’m going across the street.”

The girl behind the counter ignored him, and leaned over trying to see what the commotion was. “Is he okay?” She asked.

The older woman wearing a pink breast cancer awareness shirt had her fingers at the big man’s wrist. She shook her head. “You need to call for an ambulance. I can’t find a pulse.”

The red-haired girl was frozen in place, concern on her face.

“Now!” The woman in pink yelled.

The girl disappeared into the back, leaving no one at the register.

A small circle began forming around the man on the floor, and Meghan stayed back watching intently. Her test be damned… It’s not like she didn’t have a good reason to get out of it at this point.

“Ridiculous,” the asshole dad muttered as he skirted past the crowd.

That’s when the big man opened his eyes and began to move.

“Oh, thank God!” The older woman said as the sound of amazement went through the small circle of onlookers. “Are you okay?”

Then, the man did what no one expected. He grabbed hold of the woman’s arm, and took a huge bite. Raw, sinewy muscle was clenched between his teeth when he tilted his head back.

The woman began to scream and she tried to pull away, but the man never let go of her. A large pool of blood started to form below her.

The rest of the crowd started screaming, some went for the door, and others started pounding at the man, trying to get him off of her. The asshole dad pushed past Meghan, throwing her to the ground.

Her head bounced off of the tile, blurring her vision as water began pooling at her eyes. She could feel people tripping and stepping on her, heading for the door. Fear gripping her, she tried to get to her hands and knees, but someone’s knee collided with her ribs and she fell back down.

Thankfully, someone grabbed a hold of her hand, trying to help her up. She kicked her feet trying to use the support to stand up, but whoever had grabbed her pulled her back down. They pulled her closer to where the carnage was happening instead of helping her escape.

When Meghan looked behind her, it was the weightlifter that had a hold of her. He was no longer concerned about the older woman, who had somehow gotten free and was now being rushed out of the door. She tried to pull her arm free, but the man was incredibly strong. Half of her hand found his mouth, and then pain lanced through her arm as his teeth clamped down.

She was screaming, but it felt so distant… Not real even. It was like she was floating above it all, watching herself endure the horrific act of being eaten alive. Everything seemed so small from up there; the need for coffee, the test… none of it really mattered.

She heard a snap and more pain came. Her screams were still the muted cries of someone else to her ears.

A wet chewing sound rose above the screams. The smell of coffee still filled the air, though now there was a metallic undertone. Soon, the pain receded completely and Meghan felt nothing.

Finally, darkness over took her…

Grab your full copy here to see what happens next!

Free Short Story

Hola, readers!

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything on here, but I promise I’ve been busy. For starters, I passed my Intro to Database Design class. I know… exciting, right? I’ve been writing too. Which brings me to the real reason I’m here. I have a free short story available! The story is titled “The Good Neighbor“; it’s a horror short. Check it out if you’re a horror enthusiast. Or check it out regardless… It’s free, you have nothing to lose. Unlike my previous title, this is available at the ebook retailer of your choice. Fair warning, as I write this, the title is not free on Amazon, but it should be soon. I have contacted them letting them know the title is free elsewhere already.

You may have also noticed that Crawl is missing from the site… Or maybe you haven’t and I just drew attention to it for no reason… Either way, it’s been unpublished. It was my first work, so it has some character and tonal issues I would like to work out. It’s not that I don’t think Crawl is a fun story, but now that I’ve written quite a bit more I feel that I can revisit it and make ten times better.

I have another project that will drop soon. I’m not quite ready to go into detail about it, but I don’t want you to think I’m slacking. Let’s just say that it’s homage to all the strong ladies that I’ve been blessed to have in my life. Both the cover and the manuscript are all ready. It just needs a few touch ups and it will be published. I’ll go into more detail once it’s available. Until then, I hope you enjoy “The Good Neighbor“.

Happy reading!

Crawl: Episode 5: Death Blooms

Hey, guys! The fifth and final episode for Crawl Season 1 is available for download on Kindle. You know what that means? I’ve finally wrapped up this project!


Well… wrapped up a full book anyway. I’ve already started season 2, so it’s not like the series is over. If you want to wait it out, the full first season will be available as a bundle in a couple of weeks. If not, the finale is live! Enjoy, and happy reading!

Episode 5: Death Blooms

In this season finale, Adam uncovers a dark secret while preparing to leave town. Trapped and no longer able to flee, he is forced to stand and fight. Will he survive the onslaught of hunters? Or will he fall like the many vampire fledglings before him?


Crawl: Episode 4 is Live!

For those of you have been following the Crawl series in the serialized format; Episode 4, Catalyst, is out and available for download on Kindle. Pick up a copy and let me know what you think. I had a lot of fun writing this one, so I’m curious how it reads compared to the other episodes.

Episode 4: Catalyst

Adam discovers that even those on top of the food chain have enemies. Now, without the creature’s protection, he only has the option of running or standing his ground. Will he stay and fight—risking those he cares about—or will he run hoping to outrun this new threat?

Bear with Me

Please bear with me while I get acclimated to this web admin work. I’m working my way through this as I go, so there is bound to be errors and a less-than-desirable user experience. I’ll figure it out though, so hang in there. Until then, I hope you have enjoyed my grizzly joke.


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