The Weed

no dream this reality

where shadows prevail

and night ceases not

no tiny impotent seed

chokes the earth

sucks the ground dry

all consuming weed

no wellspring this flood

foul are the rivers

no fresh streams lap

no home for the weary

soil fills a small pocket

the harvest only chaff

no dream this reality

shadows cast all doubt

no goodness prevails

goodness tilled under

no dream this reality

firmament turns a page

lightening takes vengeance

hope split by thunder’s rage

no dream this reality

where God is not

black hell devours

Christ’s mercy wins out

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A Dark Night #noir #poetry #EdgarAllenPoe

Edgars desk

Gather my last notes

sleep never so desired

always more elusive

more muddied in the mire

against eyelash moth fluttered

taunting at my face

stopping for full moments

slumber could not erase

those errant memories

pass me, you and I

never have I slept

since the day you died

 fingers momentary

clasp about my throat

end this misery

 “goodbye” all you wrote

 my end you had predicted

 tables then were turned

shot in desperate dark

the killer in hell will burn

fresh white like a lily

purest scent I’d known

now a dusty red

stained the step toward home

your whisper doth entice

it draws me near the fire

wings might easily ignite

lay next to you my desire

work must yet be done

before I lay my head

I gather darkest dream

you villains breathe in dread

We celebrate your gift of using the pen to write Noir. Thank you Edgar for your inspiration to many writers

Happy Birthday

“L” Lust by Matt Harrill

front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

The hawk-eyed man watched them cross the room while he toyed with the woman he had chosen in his dance of lust. The couple had fallen from his spell, their faces scared, the clarity of the alien situation thrust upon them. He realized he himself had become caught up in the moment, and regretted his momentary lapse of concentration. From across the room, a woman alone smiled at him, oblivious to the carnal riot going on around her.

“You never could concentrate on the task at hand, Asmodeus,” she purred, her voice no louder than a whisper yet attuned to his hearing

He smiled and continued administering kisses to the blonde woman he had chosen for his toy. They would be out of sight, but they could never escape him. In between kisses, his teeth grew to needle points, and, with a fierce bite, he ripped her throat out. She dropped to the floor, too overcome by lust to have even registered her peril. Her last thoughts of a lovers’ embrace, her loins tight with anticipation. Nobody in the room noticed.

“All in good time, Belphegor. All in good time.”

 

***

Today is the last day I will be featuring excerpts from Matt Harrill’s novel Hellbounce from the Arc Chronicles. Leave a comment and you name goes in the “hat” for a book giveaway.

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy The Arc Chronicles.

Matthew W Harrill lives in the idyllic South-West of England, nestled snugly in a village in the foothills of the Cotswolds. Born in 1976, he attended school in Bristol and received a degree in Geology from Southampton University. By day he plies his trade implementing shareplans for Xerox. By night he spends his time with his wife and four children. (and he writes sci-fi horror).

I have a delightful interview of Matt as well. He really is an interesting chap and his writing is to die for…

Chat with him on twitter @matt_harrill

You can find Matt on Amazon and will be glad that you did!!!

Tomorrow will begin a week of noir fiction with a bit of paranormal thrown in.

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“J” Jump by Matt Harrill

front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

The lights in the hangar faded as the front hangar doors opened. The planes came alive, engines whining, and began to taxi out of the hangar onto the runway.

From her vantage point, Eva watched the small planes, capable of seating no more than six people each, crawling along the asphalt. The first turned and began to power up for takeoff. Against the backlighting of the main terminal, it was possible to see a figure run out past the hangar and leap onto the wing of the plane.

“What’s he think he’s doing?” Exclaimed Madden.

“He doesn’t think,” Eva replied. “He is past that stage now. It’s all instinct for him. However he got free, he is seeking me, and thinks I’m in there.”

“We suspect he isn’t the only one,” added Jeanette.

The planes continued in their take off, despite Brian clinging to one of the wings. Both accelerated to take off speed, and left the ground. Only moments later from a different part of the airport, two rockets flared into life, one heading to each plane.

The sound of the twin explosions shattered glass in the hangar, and the wreckage of the planes covered the far end of the runway. In moments, sirens wailed as emergency rescue vehicles rushed into action.

“Now we wait,” observed Janus.

“For what?” Asked Madden. “For them to start asking who owns the planes, who was in them, and who fired those rockets?”

“Should not be an issue. We have you and your legendary anonymity for protection. The planes were registered to a phantom company who have hangars elsewhere on the grounds. They were controlled by remote. If not for them being shot down, they would have crashed somewhere close by in the state, making everybody think you had been killed. A little misdirection can go a long way. Look out now – you will see already they start to gather.”

Eva peeked out of the hangar. In the darkness, it was easy to observe the helicopters beginning to fill the sky. Nearby in the hangar, some of the black-ops peeled tarpaulins off a black helicopter and began to prepare it for takeoff.

“We will just be another bird in the sky, with all of the others scavenging for a story.”

“We will. You are all important, and what you carry especially so.”

“The books?”

Janus threw the still-wrapped texts at Madden, who caught them by reflex. Instantly he hissed in pain and dropped them.

“There’s a good reason for that, rubber ball,” Janus said as he retrieved them. “We must go now, or see all of this destroyed. These texts might well hold the key to what has been going on.”

“To Egypt? You have a strange concept of safety.”

“You are here. Everybody knows it. Anywhere is safer than here. Can you not sense it?”

Madden was still for a moment. “Demons. Everywhere, but not close.”

“Not close enough to stop us this time. We go to the source of these scrolls, and for God’s sake try to lay low for a while.”

Eva took her place beside Madden, opposite Tilly. “Not coming, Jeanette?”

The blonde presenter shook her head. “My place and my job are here. I am the face of this. You need to see me, just turn on a television. Listen carefully when you do. There may be more being said than most understand.”

Slamming the door shut, Jeanette stepped away from the helicopter as the blades began to turn. She turned, and in a blink was gone through a doorway.

“Egypt, eh?” Madden said with a smile. “Always wanted to see the Pharaoh’s tombs.”

“Best hope it doesn’t become yours, too,” Tilly observed. “This isn’t over yet.”

 

***I will be giving at least one of Matt’s books away. Come back for G-L and leave a comment for a chance to win!!!***

 

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy TheArc Chronicles.

Matthew W Harrill lives in the idyllic South-West of England, nestled snugly in a village in the foothills of the Cotswolds. Born in 1976, he attended school in Bristol and received a degree in Geology from Southampton University. By day he plies his trade implementing shareplans for Xerox. By night he spends his time with his wife and four children. (and he writes sci-fi horror).

I have a delightful interview of Matt as well. He really is an interesting chap and his writing is to die for…

Chat with him on twitter @matt_harrill

You can find Matt on Amazon and will be glad that you did!!!

Some A to Zers I am enjoying today:

 

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“I” Interview by Matt Harrill and Children In Need

front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

“Six months ago, what started off as a standard attempted bank robbery in the area of Montego Bay, Jamaica, has become one of the biggest mysteries the island has ever seen.” A map appeared on the screen, a red line detailing the route. It reminded Eva of the red line in the Indiana Jones movies when they tracked the adventurer’s movements whenever he was on board a plane.

“The high speed chase was seen by hundreds of passers-by, involved most of the Montego Bay police force, and ended when the getaway car landed in the ocean.” A montage of scenes followed, showing a column of squad cars behind an unmarked vehicle, obviously filmed from a helicopter. The car attempted to avoid a roadblock, hit the curb, flipped and dove into the sea. Eva winced as she watched it do so.

“As it transpired, underwater rescue specialists were on hand in case such an event occurred. Within a minute or so of crashing, the police apprehended the perpetrators. All of them, except the driver. All of the doors were shut. Windows adjacent to the driver were shattered, but local police were on scene. In short, there was nowhere for him to go. Yet, he has simply vanished.”

“What makes this case even stranger is that none of the other occupants of the car can remember what he looked like, or if he was even there.”

The scene cut to a police interview showing a swarthy Jamaican, one arm in a sling. The name ‘Turell Banks’ appeared on a banner at the bottom of the screen.

”Man, I tellin’ you, me dunno!” The man was clearly agitated, confused. “We had us a wheel man. Him just up and gone. No name, no face. Him vanish like a ghost.”

“The other members of the gang have offered similar explanations. They all know they had a driver, but they were all unable to provide the police with a description. Polygraph tests on all three men indicated that each man was convinced he was telling the truth. Whoever the mystery driver is, he has kept his identity well hidden. Jamaican police were satisfied with one outcome, however; the apprehension of a local underground drug lord.”

Again, the scene shifted to the man from the previous interview, a particularly evil-looking man, in an orange jumpsuit, his face a mixture of rage and confusion.

“As a result of Bank’s capture, our mysterious gang member became a hero in the eyes of the authorities through his choice of escape route, although many admit confusion when it comes to an explanation of his disappearance. One thing is certain; the legend of the disappearing driver is sure to grow. Coming up next: a man in Georgia claims to have seen a demon walking on the streets. More, after these important messages.”

***I will be giving at least one of Matt’s books away. Come back for G-L and leave a comment for a chance to win!!!***

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy The Arc Chronicles.

 

Robertsport, Liberia

IN NEED – As we get closer to finalizing the book “A Song for Liberia” we will need  people/ bloggers to help to share about the book.  As I was sharing with a friend the other day few people realize that there are at least 10,000 children who are now orphaned because of the Ebola epidemic.

 

Bloggers that I am enjoying today:

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“H” Hijacked by Matt Harrill and Help for Orphans of Ebola

front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

She was left alone in the car. It was night and there was nobody about. The sense of unease had not lessened, and the same strange smell of iron permeated this car as it had the other.

Eva got out, looking for Sajhid. Nothing. She was completely alone. Presuming the answer to lie in the trunk of the car, she walked to the back and popped the catch. The lid sprang up and a waft of carrion assaulted her nose. A large object in the rear of the car was the cause of the stench. Flicking on her torch revealed dark stains everywhere, and the size of the object caused her to pause. It was about six feet in length, curled up. A man.

Leaning over to examine the body, Eva was careful not to touch it. He looked as though he had been torn apart from the tears and gashes in his middle. His head was at an irregular angle, his face fixed in a silent scream of horror. The blood was everywhere.

This confirmed what Eva had begun to suspect. Sajhid was not the driver. This man was. As she flicked the torch off, and closed the trunk, she thought back over the conversations they had had. He didn’t really know anything about her and the others until she had supplied the information. His views on the attacks, the strange happenings. They were far too whimsical for somebody set against the evil that threatened to overwhelm them all.

She was still alone by the car, and for that she was thankful. Now she only had one thought. Escape. This Sajhid was driving her where she wanted to go, but for a completely different reason.

Getting back in, the interior light showed her to have blood all over her hands. Taking a bottle of water, she rinsed them and wiped them off with some tissue. She cracked the door open to dispose of the evidence, Sajhid stood just outside. Eva screamed.

“Are you well?”

“I was freshening up. You startled me.”

Eva wrapped the tissues in a bundle and tossed them nonchalantly to the foot well. “There’s so much mess here I don’t really think a couple of tissues will matter.”

“Indeed. We shall sort out the mess soon enough.” Sajhid got back into the driver seat and started the engine.

***

The journey from that point onwards for Eva was one of confinement. Sajhid drove too fast to allow her to jump out without serious injury, and as night faded and the sun began to rise, the early morning seemed that much colder for her predicament. She had no idea where they were driving, except that Madden and her only hope of salvation were ahead.

The air inside the car was stifling, and as the day began to warm, Eva moved to open the window.

“I would not do that,” Sajhid warned. “Accidents can happen when windows are open too wide. You should just leave it shut.” He kept his eye on her, barely looking at the road.

At first, she stared back, but the whites of his eyes widened a little too much; it was clear now exactly what he was. Trapped, Eva began to lose hope. She would go where he wanted.

***

This is the second installation (excerpt from the novel Hellbounce)

 *** I will be giving at least one of Matt’s books away. So each comment ( for Matt’s G- L) counts toward winning!***

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy TheArc Chronicles.

Matthew W Harrill lives in the idyllic South-West of England, nestled snugly in a village in the foothills of the Cotswolds. Born in 1976, he attended school in Bristol and received a degree in Geology from Southampton University. By day he plies his trade implementing shareplans for Xerox. By night he spends his time with his wife and four children. (and he writes sci-fi horror).

I have a delightful interview of Matt as well. He really is an interesting chap and his writing is to die for…

Chat with him on twitter @matt_harrill

You can find Matt on Amazon and will be glad that you did!!!

 

The HELP – As we get closer to finalizing the book “A Song for Liberia” , we will need  people/ bloggers to help to share about the book.  As I was sharing with a friend the other day, few people realize that there are at least 10,000 children (the reported numbers are low) who are now orphaned because of the Ebola epidemic.

Others who are enjoying the A to Z Challenge as well:

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“G” Gluttony by Matt Harrill

Today we continue with our body bag count. Not sure what our numbers are- Steve Slack racked them up quickly. Today we are switching authors and will enjoy Matt Harrill’s slealthy, predator as he circles…front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

“EVA!” Brian yelled from behind her.

She stopped and turned. He was perhaps a hundred yards or so back; the crowd had bunched around him.

“If thou hast done foolishly in lifting up thyself, or if thou hast thought evil, lay thine hand upon thy mouth. What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ashamed of? Those things result in death!”

Brian was quoting the Bible? Before Eva could respond, the smiling woman lifted the girl into the air, and passed her to him. The feeling of hunger magnified a hundredfold, and the crowd began to growl, unutterable sounds that could not be recognised as human. There was an eager anticipation in the air, as if an abomination was about to be unfettered.

As one, the mob surged at Brian, and both he and the girl disappeared from view. Eva couldn’t see what was going on, but the mob piled into the space where Brian had stood, baying and scrapping.

Eva felt compelled to join them, but something inside her fought the feeling, preventing her from moving. She stood, immobile, as others ran past her to dive in.

Above it all, there was a piercing wail, tortured and desperate, extinguished almost as soon as it began. It wasn’t Brian they were after. He wasn’t protecting the child. He was slaughtering her! Then a flash of red sprayed up from the seething mass, and Eva began to scream.

*** I will be giving at least one of Matt’s books away. So each comment ( for Matt’s G- L) counts toward winning!***

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy The Arc Chronicles.

Matthew W Harrill lives in the idyllic South-West of England, nestled snugly in a village in the foothills of the Cotswolds. Born in 1976, he attended school in Bristol and received a degree in Geology from Southampton University. By day he plies his trade implementing shareplans for Xerox. By night he spends his time with his wife and four children. (and he writes sci-fi horror).

I have a delightful interview of Matt as well. He really is an interesting chap and his writing is to die for…

Chat with him on twitter @matt_harrill

You can find Matt on Amazon and will be glad that you did!!!

I will also add a quick plug for “Song for Liberia” a project that will benefit orphans of Ebola. More about that project here.

Bloggers who are enjoying the A to Z Challenge:

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