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Check the link below for more info on my upcoming book Tall Tales. That's all, folks! I'm out to sell to write. I will never write to sellout. Or something like that. Hey, it's been a long, long day.
Here's a totally out of context excerpt from my book:
ust bite me,he said and her fangs sank deep, the flesh yielding its bounty of red warmth in rhythmic gushes and velvet waves of delicious pain that blurred the boundary between sensations preconceived as oceans of oceans apart, which, in this hazy hinterland between life and death, converged as the apotheosis of pure ecstasy and mortal anguish. Woozy but leg-sturdy, Norman Smith yanked his arm from Chastity Williams, who was guzzling him with the starved fervency of a piglet on a teat, when poof! every inch of his being was aglitter with foreign instincts and novel powers he ambitiously presumed would lift the insipid pall of tediousness that blackened his existence, and off he would soar into the wild blue yonder of excitement he so desperately craved, and yes, gentle reader, Norman got more than he bargained for.
After two arduous days of traveling, Norman Smith and his new extended family landed safely, which is not a figure of speech, for they literally came warbling out of the sky, a quartet of ungainly, aerodynamically challenged birds that stumbled to an uncoordinated halt on the weather-beaten cobblestone roof of Castle Dracul. ou know, pet,Norman said, peeling off goggles caked with 2,000 air-miles of dust and miscellaneous bug parts, ou could have told me about this before pushing me off Big Ben and yelling, ly!/FONT>
But Norman supposed he deserve this abuse after the way he tricked Chastity into turning him, so he didn further press his dismay, following silently behind as the group meandered through secret passages sequestered in the stone walls of Castle Dracul, the air growing steadily colder and clammier as they descended, narrowness giving way to labyrinthine networks of spacious caves and corridors carved by the Finger of Time where half the world vampires lived twixt the proverbial rock and a hard place deep in the heart of the uncharted underworld beneath the Carpathian Mountains, which, for better or worse, bestowed a full complement of hours, the tunnels clogged with impromptu gaming sessions atop coffin lids, the vigilant occupants playing such perennial favorites as Bingo, Parcheesi, and Monopoly simultaneously, monstrous board game fiascos designed to soak up the surplus hours born under protection of eternal night, while those disenchanted with the empty promise of false conquest stared up dolefully from the soft clutch of their silken wombs wondering, with cautious reproach, when oh when are we going to get with the 20th century and mount an antenna on the roof, I missing /FONT>You Bet Your Lifeand /FONT>One Life to Live
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