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Little Book 10

November 27, 2013 1 comment

SH_SKE_V3_Front_cover

Sirens Call Publications has just released “Slaughter House: The Serial Killer Edition – Volume 3” which includes a story of mine. Here is the synopsis.

The majority of us know the common connotation of a serial killer. But how many of us know that by definition, a serial killer is an individual who has only killed a minimum of three people on separate occasions? Interesting fact, wouldn’t you say.

What you’ll find here are not only the stories of the atrocities committed by such individuals, but their thoughts, choices, and the twisted paths their lives have taken to bring them to this point.

These are the stories behind the serial killers.

Slaughter House: The Serial Killer Edition – Volume 3 contains the following eleven fictional

stories:

Appetites – Ken MacGregor

The Spirit of Sportsmanship – Justin M. Ryan

The Questioning – K. Trap Jones

The Wild Feast – L. E. White

Night Of The Wampus – Melissa Crory

Eddy and The Girls – Trevor Firetog

Food for Thought – Katie Jones

The Eyes Have It – James WF Roberts

Joey and the Hippie – Jenean McBrearty

Representations – W.B. Stickel

At Any Cost – Alex Chase

***

Purchase Links:

Amazon: US, UK, Canada, Australia, Germany, France, Spain, Italy, Brazil, Japan, MexicoIndia

CreateSpace

Smashwords

So, just in time for you holiday, give the gift of fear with a book that includes something of mine. Have a good one.

L. E. White

Little Book 10

The sun had been up for no more than a few minutes and Joey wasn’t wasting any of his day. Amy was stretched out on the bed, naked, beautiful and inviting, but she was still asleep and he knew she would stay that way for a few more hours.

Joey sat on the end of the bed with his tablet in hand. He searched the net, sent message and made contacts while wearing a quiet smile. A couple of hours later, he hooked the little computer up to the charger and stepped to the window.

“Today is going to be beautiful.”

Amy groaned and stretched before squinting over at him. “Come back to bed, it’s really early.”

He walked back with a grin, “Good idea.”

***

“I do not like this,” Claire said as she followed Joey and Amy down the street. “There are too many people around to be sure you are safe.”

“I always watch this parade,” Joey said. “This is a holiday tradition and I want enjoy it. Try to relax.”

Amy rolled her eyes and pulled Joey’s arm closer as she clicked along beside of him.

Joey watched the floats and bands as they passed. Amy stood beside him, smiling and pointing out things that she liked while Claire stood to the other side about a step behind him, looking bored. He checked on her once or twice, noticing that the demonic bodyguard’s eyes darted around despite being half closed.

The three of them wandered around, sampling the food and looking at the various crafts people were selling. As the sun slunk towards the horizon, they headed towards the parking garage. Amy held a teddy bear in one arm and Clair continued to snap her eyes from side to side, looking for threats.

A group of children were standing on their porch, throwing paper snappers at their feet and dancing around, laughing and squealing almost hiding the crack of a rifle shot that sounded down the street. Claire was thrown backward when the bullet struck her temple, and gore splattered the people walking behind them.

Amy screamed as four big men jumped out of a van parked along the street. They charged towards Joey as other festival goers scattered, and he reached into his coat, drawing out a sleek, silver pistol.

“Move!” The word sounded like it came from breaking guitar strings and Joey’s mouth dropped open as Claire charged past him. He stared at her, his mouth hanging open in disgust as the bloody mess of a woman lunged at the closest of the men from the van. A small hole with an angry red puckering around it was visible where the snipers bullet had hit her.

Claire grabbed the man by the shoulders and while he wore the same expression of shock as the others, he recovered and grabbed the bloody woman, thinking he could overpower her.

He was wrong.

The tiny corpse elongated, Claire’s mid-section extending, so that they were equal in height. The demon spun like a child’s toy, dragging the man off his feet and launching him towards his companions.

Two of the thugs dropped to the ground and their companion flew towards the van like a football that had just been thrown by a first time quarter back. He spun, arms and legs spread wide before slamming into the side of the vehicle with a crunching sound like dry cereal.

“Move!” The creature bellowed the word again as the third of the attackers shot her with a taser. The tiny darts connected and the demon jerked as a sizzling noise was accompanied by another crack of a distant gun shot. What remained of Claire’s head rocked backward as Joey turned and dashed up the steps of the building beside of him.

Joey grabbed the door’s handle and jerked it open before falling into the building and pulling his feet inside the threshold. Amy tried to scramble towards him, still down on her hands and knees, when she came off the ground with a shriek.

Claire whipped Amy over her head and threw the petite blonde at the man with the taser. He stood there, eyes wide and lips parted, until the woman turned dodge-ball collided with him, knocking him off his feet and landing them both in piles a couple of yards away.

One of the last two had stood up and he turned to run away. The other was still climbing to his feet when Claire launched herself towards him. As she moved, her body flowed, changing from the headless corpse of Joey’s busty personal assistant into a beast that might have been a cross between a praying mantis and a gorilla.

Clair’s arms stretched out, each one splitting and filling out as coarse hair spread in spiraling branches out to the ends. Each arm ended in a pair of hands, facing each other with the fingers interlocking into gigantic fists. The glob of pulp that had been her head transformed into an insect like replica of two praying mantis’s with the backs of their heads glued together.

The slower of the men managed no more than a tiny squeak before one of the monster’s fists knocked his head off of his shoulders. She was past him and reaching for the other before the corpse fell back to the ground. The runner tried to dodge to the side as his companion’s head flew past him but Claire was too fast. Both arms on one side reached out, the double fists opening like the mouth of a venus fly trap, and in another step, she had him and was lifting him into the air.

There was another crack as the rifle put another round into the air. Claire’s head moved like she was sneezing and a bullet cracked into the trunk of a small tree. Joey heard the thunk of the impact and looked at the bits of splinter and bark as they fell to the ground.

His eyes were drawn back to Clair as the man she had ahold of shrieked. Claire shoved her fingers of one large hand through his lower back before spreading them out. The man tore apart, his guts spilling out of the hole once Claire pulled her hand away. He let out a soft whimper and then all Joey could hear was the sound of his guts falling to the pavement with a wet slurping.

Claire dropped the body and then blurred out of sight. Joey listened, waiting until he heard two shots, before scooting further back from the door and standing up.

Claire re-appeared, clean and human again, after no more than another second. She started to step forward, but stopped and looked around. Her eyes began to glow a soft blue as her lips parted in a snarl. “Come here, we need to leave.”

Joey shook his head and turned his back on her. “I’ll be right back. Just wait there.”

Claire’s body trembled so that it looked like she was having a seizure. Waves of heat rolled off of her as she tried to find a way to get to Joey inside the church. “Come back here.”

He ignored her as he walked towards the old priest who was making his way toward the door. “I need to talk to you Father. This is really important.”

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Categories: Book, Flash Fiction, Horror, serial

Calvin and Hobbes Comic Strip on GoComics.com

November 21, 2013 Leave a comment
Categories: web comic

Little Book 9

November 20, 2013 1 comment

I just deleted what I had started to write about. How in the world do other blogs keep from whining and griping all the time. None of you want to hear the bitching and moaning. I refuse to let this turn into a sappy introspective pile of drivel. How  do others keep finding something to write about?

Granted, that is why I keep posting new fiction. Still, I can’t help but wonder. I guess I need to find more productive topics. Definitely something to work on for next time. Until then, I hope you enjoy this weeks addition.

L. E. White

Little Book 9

Joey sat on the couch with his legs stretched out and his fingertips pressed together in front of his lips. Across from him, the cat was curled into a ball on top of the chair. Neither had spoken since Claire forced him back into the car.

When the pair had returned home, she had transformed into the cat and taken the spot that she was in now. Joey had sent for food and coffee but so far, he hadn’t touched either.

“Where else will I not be allowed to go if I want to?”

The cat opened one eye and shut it again before Claire’s voice came out of it. “You may not enter religious buildings or monuments. Those are the only places that our kind may not travel through.”

“So you are a biblical Demon?”

“No.”

“Why can’t you enter those places?”

The cat lifted its head and stared at him for a few seconds. “Would you like me to change shape to have this conversation?”

“I don’t care. Why can’t you enter those places?”

The cat lowered its head to its paws. “The best description for this is because they are of one polarity and our kind is of another.”

Joey nodded and the pair fell silent again. He sipped his coffee and worked on his tablet while she moved around to lie in the sun.

***

Amy walked into the apartment and looked around, smiling at the empty room until she saw the cat lying on the floor in a patch of late afternoon sun. When she looked up at Joey, standing in the doorway to the bedroom, she smiled even bigger.

“Come here,” he said, and she hurried across the room. He wrapped his arms around her and tilted her chin up, kissing her in one long, passionate kiss before breaking away. “You hungry?”

She shrugged, “Not really but I could eat. You wanting to go out somewhere?”

Joey grinned as he stretched out and finger and traced it along her chin. “No, I want to stay in, but we can order something if you want it.”

Amy giggled and took his hand in hers, lifting it up so that she could kiss the tip of his finger. They called down an order and rolled the cart into the bedroom before shutting the door on Claire.

***

The humans took their time and Claire assumed that Joey was taking out his frustrations with her on the woman. The spent the whole night in the bedroom, things banged and creaked, he groaned and she made many sounds that were a cross between pleasure and pain.

As mortals count time, the next day began and Claire realized that the sounds were starting to fall away. The couple was getting quieter as time passed, but every now and then the woman would let out a long, exaggerated moan that Claire recognized as false.

A little later, Claire realized that she could not hear them at all. At first she considered that they must have fallen asleep, but then she concentrated, and discovered the lack of their heart beats.

The cat didn’t move; it just melted away until it was replaced by the human assistant. She crossed the room as fast as possible without teleporting, and grabbed the handle of the door.

Claire tried to turn the knob, but it would not move. Then she shoved, intending to break the door, but the portal would not budge. She drew back on tiny hand and punched forward. Her small fist hit the wood like a train, but the barrier did not explode. Instead, a single knock sounded.

She punched the door a few more times, but none of her attacks did any more to the wooden plank than make it shake in its frame.

Amy opened the door, and when Claire looked past her into the room, her eyes narrowed. Joey was lying naked on the bed, arms behind his head, looking at her with a smug smile. “Is something wrong?”

Claire started to step forward, but she felt as if she were trying to walk against the waves in the ocean. “I was just checking on you sir. I had not heard you and wanted to verify that you were alright.”

“We are,” Joey said. “In fact, we are doing wonderfully, thank you.”

The stood staring at each other for a moment before Claire nodded and stepped away. She made eye contact with Amy, who smiled an evil, taunting smile as she shut the door in the demon’s face.

***

Amy turned back to Joey with a huge smile on her face. He nodded to her and she strutted back to the bed, resuming her place between his legs.

Joey looked past her bobbing head and smiled at the door, which he had surrounded with pages from a bible. He had rolled them up and strung them around with tape to make a ring around the door while Amy had pretended to be having sex. The same thing surrounded the windows. He had watched as Claire started forward. He had seen her step towards the door, only to be stopped before crossing the threshold.

He turned his attention back to Amy and her efforts before lying back on the bed and closing his eyes. He tried to enjoy her work, but his mind was racing. He had a lot to accomplish once they finished, but his plan was forming.

Categories: Flash Fiction, serial

Little Book 8

November 13, 2013 1 comment

I don’t know about other writers, but I love getting a story back from an editor. I know it is marked up, red all over it where words need to be changed or removed. Comments about the things that I messed up, missed or confused. As I understand it, there are quite a few authors who get upset with this.

Not me.

When an editor sends me a marked up manuscript, it is them helping me. It is another person doing the best that they can to help me make my work as good as it can be. I appreciate it and take the time to very carefully read everything. I want to make things better and this is what we will be doing.

Together.

So, to every editor I have worked with so far, thank you.

L. E. White

Little Book 8

Joey flipped through his paper, reading over the headlines just like he had been for the months before making his first payment. Claire examined him; her eyes narrow as she watched her charge act normal and relaxed. If there was anything she had learned while guarding the mortals it was that right before they attempted something stupid, they would act the most normal.

“What do we have on the agenda today?”

“You have a meeting with some distributors from the west coast at lunch.”

Joey nodded and looked up at Claire with a smile. “Good, then today will still be an easy day.”

“Are you still ill?” The question wasn’t quite right. She was sure the words were not the ones that most mortals would have chosen, but she didn’t know what other ones to use.

“No, I feel fine.”

She continued to watch him. Perhaps his time mating with the stupid girl had been what he needed, but that seemed unlikely. Joey was more like Andrew, the second man to accept the ledger. They acted similar and with the years that had passed, Claire supposed that they might have been related. That meant that they would behave the same. Right now, that meant that Joey wasn’t just ok.

He had a plan.

***

Joey nodded to Claire as he walked towards the door. She was up and beside of him before he realized that she had moved and he grinned when he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to come with me. I am not going anywhere special.”

“It is my job to guard the man who carries the Journal.”

Joey stopped with his hand on the door and stared at her for a second before nodding and opening the door. She stepped through, looking around to assess the area before leading the way out to a cab. “You called for a car?”

“Yeah, I figured I would just go alone so I didn’t want to get a string of you guys worked up over nothing.”

Claire got into the cab and sat staring out the window they pulled up in a tiny neighborhood where most of the cars parked along the street had their hoods up or tires off.

Joey reached for the door handle and Clair jumped out of the other side. She looked around the neighborhood, estimating the level of danger, while Joey paid the cab and turned to walk across the street.

“Have you asked the driver to wait on us?”

“Yes,” Joey said.

“Why are we here?”

Joey smiled at here as he stopped in front of an old church. “This is where I grew up.”

Claire looked at him with her wide, watchful eyes before turning her gaze around her again. “And you are wanting to re-live some pleasant memory by visiting this site again?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Joey turned and headed towards the church. He climbed two of the steps before Claire appeared before him.

“You cannot go in there.”

“Why not?”

Claire stood between Joey and the door to the church with her arms hanging at her sides. She was two steps above him, but with her heels, she appeared to be three feet taller. Joey looked up at her without expression. Claire studied him, looking for a sign of what he was thinking before answering. “I cannot enter and it is my job to protect you.”

“I won’t need protection in the church. Just wait for me out here.”

“No,” she said. Clair raised one hand up and held it in front of Joey’s shoulder. “I will not allow you to enter this building since I cannot enter with you.”

“Claire,” Joey said with a soft, even voice. “Move out of my way.”

“No.”

Joey lifted his arm, balling his hand into a fist as he did so, and started to punch Claire.

He was fast, experienced and capable of knocking a man out with a jab. Joey had spent years on the streets fighting before he started working for Morrin and he wondered if he wouldn’t have been better off trying to go pro as a boxer rather than getting into crime. His fist was in motion and he wondered how bad it was going to hurt to hit the shape-shifter.

The smack of skin on skin was loud. It rung in Joey’s ears as he looked at his fist, caught in Claire’s hand before he had covered even half the distance between them. She didn’t wince or frown from the force of the punch, she just stared at him.

“If you try to hurt me again, I will defend myself. Do you understand?”

“I thought you were supposed to protect me?”

Claire squeezed Joey’s hand and he clenched his jaw and tried to keep from screaming. She tightened her grip until he let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a growl and a groan before dropping to his knees in front of her. “I can protect you from death in many ways. Most of them will not be enjoyable to you.”

She released his hand and Joey glared at her. She smiled, letting him see her teeth shift so that they resembles sharks teeth and waited for him to relax. When his shoulders sagged, she returned to her normal, humorless appearance and helped him back to the cab.

Categories: Flash Fiction, Random, serial

Little Book 7

November 6, 2013 Leave a comment

ADD POST HERE:

This is what I have been looking at for a week. As many different stories as I have posted and I am suffering from writer’s block on the stupid post content.

Lucky for me we started watching television again. If you haven’t seen it yet, there is a new supernatural/paranormal series out this year. I have watched the first two episodes and I have to say that this looks promising.

We finally have a vampire that is a monster again.

So, in case you haven’t watched it yet, make sure you check out Dracula. This historic fantasy has been very enjoyable so far. I am looking forward to more.

L. E. White

Little Book 7

Joey sat in an over-stuffed chair, his legs extended and his ankles crossed. His arms were folded over his chest and a small, round pillow was tucked behind his neck.

On the table in front of him sat the small ledger.

Claire was in the form of a cat. She rested in the window, enjoying a warm spot of sunlight. She was guarding him, and watching to be sure he didn’t do anything stupid.

After he had showered and slept, Claire had told him about the history of the ledger’s previous owners. Every one of them had died from settling up with the lady except for Morrin. “They all tried to find a way to cheat the lady,” she had said. “And they all failed. Whoever had the book is the boss and they have to pay the debt. It is really simple.”

Joey nodded. There wasn’t anything else he could think to say.

Now, he was doing what every other guy before him had done. He was sitting, trying to think of ways to get out of paying the tab. He was trying to think of a way to cheat this deal with the devil and save his life in the process.

He stretched forward and picked up the book. It had been wiped clean when he had paid up, but there were already two full pages again. He hated it but his boys were efficient.

He flipped back and forth, looking at the strange symbols and numbers that covered the pages in tight, crisp black lines. He looked at Claire, opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut again. There was no point in asking, he knew the answer already.

So he put the book back, leaned into his chair and started at the worn leather cover. He stared and waited for inspiration to strike.

*****

Amy grabbed the edge of the table and moaned, she didn’t need to, but she did. The truth was that she could be really quite during sex, but men seemed to like it when she was loud. For some reason they all seemed to think that the louder she was the better they were doing. She could live with faking noise to make them happier.

Especially if the man she was making happy was Joey Carpenter.

He had been sick, the scary little bitch of an assistant had told her as much over the phone, but when she had been allowed up to see him, she had stood with her mouth hanging in shock. He looked horrible. His eyes were sunk in and he had grey hair that she didn’t remember. It was like he had aged in the last two weeks.

But he was horny and ready for her, which meant that she hadn’t been replaced, so the rest didn’t matter. Being Joey’s toy meant she didn’t have to turn tricks or wait tables.

Tonight, he was different. He seemed distracted and depressed. He had kissed her in a listless sort of way but when she tried to get him going, it had almost worked to well. Joey had went from not paying much attention to shoving her over the table and pulling her skirt up with short, frantic moves. He was pounding away like he was afraid he was going to die and that scared her a little.

If something happened to him, she would be on the street again.

He was all over the place, no rhythm or style. Joey had been a good lover, one that she enjoyed, but tonight he reminded her of a first timer trying to experiment with being rough.

He squeezed one breast, and she was guessing that he would leave bruises. He had never left bruises before. He slammed into her, cramming her into the table edge and she was sure there would be a bruise there, the sharp edge of the heavy wood top was biting into her. His other hand was full of her hair, and the way he was pulling she just prayed that he wouldn’t tear it out.

When he slammed forward and let out a sigh, Amy sighed with him. It was over, he was done and she would be able to go to the bathroom and assess the damage. However, instead of pulling away, Joey bent at the waist and rested his head between her shoulders. She put her hand over the one that was still clutching her breast and rubbed it. She felt him shudder and shake as he took a stuttering breath. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing.” Joey pulled away and sat down in one of the chairs.

Amy didn’t move, she stayed bent over the table for a moment as she tried to decide what to do. “Joey, I know something happened. I promise I won’t tell nobody about it.” She stood up without turning around and pulled her skirt back down. She kept her eyes down as she turned, waiting until she was leaning on the table before looking up at him.

Joey was sitting in the chair, pants around his ankles, staring at her with eyes that reminded her of broken windows. He looked so much older and she felt sorry for him.

“I know you wouldn’t tell, but I can’t tell you anything.”

“I think you need to tell someone,” she said. “Everybody needs somebody to talk to. I can be that for you if you want.” Her voice sounded small to her own ears. She was worried about making him mad. She didn’t want to disappear or be replaced.

He smiled at her, but she thought it was just to get her to shut up. “I’ll think about it.”

Amy bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “Maybe you should try talking to a priest? They can’t be made to talk and they never tell anyone.” When she looked back up at him, Joey looked different. He was still smiling, but now it had spread. His eyes looked more alive than when she had come in and his mouth was slightly open.

“That is a very good idea.” He said each word carefully, pausing between them. Something about that had sparked an idea. She didn’t know what, but if he liked it that was all that mattered to her.

“Thank you”

He had never thanked her before, he had never done anything other than use her until tonight, and she was proud of herself for helping.  Amy stood up straight and smoothed her shirt, preparing to head to the bathroom.

“Table,” he said and she thought it sounded like he normally did. He face beamed when she climbed onto the polished wood surface and began to wiggle her hips. As his eyes followed her hands over her body, Amy thought that things might just go back to normal.

Or maybe, just maybe, he would let them go somewhere beyond that.

Categories: Flash Fiction, Writing

xkcd: Third Way

November 1, 2013 Leave a comment

xkcd: Third Way.

 

Every writer and editor will love this comic.

Categories: web comic