Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Gratitude Giveaway

For the Gratitude Give-away I’ll be raffling off signed copies of “No Date for Gomez!” Those familiar with my work will know that this novelette is not available for purchase anywhere. I originally wrote it as a companion story to “No Hope for Gomez!” to use for marketing purposes. For this give-away I have revived it through a one-time printing.


“Ran into Gretchen in the hallway. My head was buzzing with thoughts, but when I looked into those hazel eyes, everything went quiet. It was like a power outage in my brain. All synaptic activity slowed and my inner voice went dead. In fact, I wasn’t even entirely sure I was still there.

      I could remember talking to people. Knowing the kinds of things one said in polite conversation. I could remember making people think and laugh, but, at that very moment, I couldn't put my finger on any of the words one might use when running into a fellow human being in a hallway.

     Gretchen smiled and said, “Hi!”
     Which was one of the words one might use.
     “How are you doing today?”
     Which, I now recalled, was a bunch of others.”

More information on this weird story can be found here, but then, why would you need more information?

So, just sign up as a member of this new blog and you are automatically eligible to win a signed copy of “No Date for Gomez!”

Click here for more Gratitude Giveaways!

Oh, and don’t forget to check out the Gomez BirdDay event and win a Kindle or iPod. See previous post!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Quotes You really shouldn't read!

Assorted quotes from "No Hope for Gomez!"

"Sadly, my socks are like snowflakes, no two are exactly alike." — Graham Parke

"I shouted the perfect words to scare him off. It was just the delivery (and only the delivery) that made me sound like a twelve-year-old girl with pee running down her leg.
I felt dirty and stupid." — Gomez

“I’d like to get a Coke with you after work. I mean, after your work, of course, and mine, also. After both our works. Sorry I didn’t make that clear.” – Dr. Christine Hargrove

“There was nothing I could do to stop Warren from walking down the stairs with me, so I shrugged and picked up the pace. As he started talking, I increased my pace further. At one point I tried taking two steps at a time, but that, apparently, only works well on the way up.” – Gomez

“Some hats go well with business suits, most hats don’t, but nothing goes quite as badly with a business suit as a sombrero, which is what the guy was wearing.”- Gomez

“I’m wearing a really sexy outfit. It’s especially tight around my breasts and it completely hides my uneven shoulders.” – Dr. Christine Hargrove

“Every once in a while you come across a novel that reminds you why you think you enjoy reading in the first place. A novel so fresh and new that it reacquaints you with feelings of childhood wonder. The novel my neighbor Warren wrote was, quite possibly, the very first example I’d come across of the exact opposite of this.” – Gomez

Sunday, November 7, 2010

What you should probably know about my....

I don't really like a lot about myself, but I do happen to believe I have great toes. They are extremely shapely: not too long, not too fat, and with good, solid joints. In fact, I’m seriously considering leaving them to science.

I can almost envision enthused scientists, decades from now, marveling over my generosity and my shapeliness of toes:

Scientist #1: “This just came in...”

Scientist #2: “What’s that? It looks like a… bag of toes?”

Scientist #1: “It is. Apparently Graham thought you might, eh, want to take a look.”

Scientist #2: “And then?”

Scientist #1: “Well, he didn't really specify.”

Scientist #2: “Are you serious?”

Scientist #1: “Yes…”

Scientist #2: “You’re bringing me a jiffy bag full of toes?”

Scientist #1: “That’s how they came in.”

Scientist #2: “Are they even sterilized? There’s blood all over the place! And what are those, are those candy wrappers?”

Scientist #1: “The toes are individually wrapped, yes.”

Scientist #2: “Oh man… what’s going on here?”

Scientist #1: “Apparently, he cut them off himself. Just before he passed away. Had a courier rush them over. Asked for you specifically.”

Scientist #2: “He cut off his toes himself?”

Scientist #1: “Wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it. Said you’d understand.”

Scientist #2: “What?”

Scientist #1: “As soon as you’d take a look, you’d understand. Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but, well, the guy did cut off his toes for you. Least you can do is take a look, right?”

Scientist #2: “I’m not touching those candy wrappers. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever eat candy again!”

Scientist #1: “I can unwrap them, I suppose, but you’ll owe me lunch.”

Scientist #2: “Fine…”

Scientist #1: “For a month.”

Scientist #2: “Okay, okay. Let’s just get this over with!”

Scientist #1: “Here we go. Here’s the first one.”

Scientist #2: “Don’t hand that thing to me, just put it down over there somewhere. No! Damnit, man! Wash the blood off first!”

Scientist #1: “Fine! Here you go, all nice and clean. And here comes the second one…”

Scientist #2: “Say…”

Scientist #1: “Here’s the third. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Scientist #2: “Who else saw these toes come in?”

Scientist #1: “What do you mean? No one. Just me.”

Scientist #2: “You sure?”

Scientist #1: “Sure I’m sure. For some reason, no-one was interested in a bag of bloody toes, believe me. And stop looking at me like that…”

Scientist #2: “These here are some very, very nice toes.”

Scientist #1: “Well, now I’ve cleaned them off, they don’t look half bad, no.”

Scientist #2: “Are there any tests we can perform? I mean, anything we specifically need toes for instead of, say, fingers?”

Scientist #1: “No, not really. Don’t really need toes. Usually we just throw them out.”

Scientist #2: “Any amputees on the waiting list, people who need toes?”

Scientist #1: “Nope, already checked.”

Scientist #2: “I won’t say anything if you won’t…”

Scientist #1: “About what? What are you doing? What’s that saw for?”

Scientist #2: “I’m keeping these toes, man. They’re so much better than mine. Here, take this syringe, put me under, then swap my toes. We can be done before lunch!”

Scientist #1: “You’re crazy if you think I’m even going to consider doing that!”

Scientist #2: “Come on!”

Scientist #1: “No way!”

Scientist #2: “I’ll finally be able to wear sandals in public, get all the girls I want, look down admiringly in the shower! Don’t take that away from me. Not when I’m so close. Here, take the damn syringe!”

Scientist #1: “No freaking way! First off all, the toes haven’t even been tested yet. Secondly, according to my estimations, at least half of them toes are mine!”

Scientist #2: “What?”

Scientist #1: “You heard me!”

Scientist #2: “They were given to me specifically, didn’t you just say that a minute ago? Graham asked for me specifically?”

Scientist #1: “Yeah, well, all I’m saying is, if you want to keep these toes out of the system, you’d better give me half.”

Scientist #2: “Fine. Have it your way. Half a set of magnificent toes is better than none, I suppose. But how are we going to do this?”

Scientist #1: “I’ll do you, then you do me. We can be done before dinner.”

Scientist #2: “No, I mean, who gets what?”

Scientist #1: “I’ll take the left toes, you take the right toes. My left foot has always been my favorite anyway. Hell of a soccer kick. We have to separate the toes carefully, though. Don’t want to muck up my balance.”

Scientist #2: “Really? That’s your plan? You’re such a moron! I was thinking more along the lines of alternating the toes. You know, every other toe. Three on one foot, two on the other?”

Scientist #1: “Why make it so complicated?”

Scientist #2: “Just think, man! We could end up with two beautiful feet, each! These toes are so fine, they’ll easily overshadow our own toes. No one will ever notice them again! They’ll just see Graham’s toes and go; Aahh…”

Scientist #1: “That’s insane!”

Scientist #2: “And…?”

Scientist #1: “And it might just work! Okay, lay back, here we go!”

Graham's website

Sneak Prequel

To start this blog off on the wrong foot, here's a sneak preview of a prequel chapter to "No Hope for Gomez!" Note: this scene takes place 5 years before the events chronicled in NHFG!


Arrived at the antiques store a little before twelve. Had an important errand to run.

      “Morning Mr. Porter,” I said, throwing my coat in the general direction of the coat rack. “How’s it going? Are you feeling any better today?”

      Mr. Porter shrugged.

      My coat landed nicely on the middle peg, as always. I continued toward the counter. “I had a Great Idea this morning!”

      “You did?” Mr. Porter nodded thoughtfully. “Well, that’s probably a good thing, then.” He was about to stare out the window, when something occurred to him. “Hey,” he said, “who are the hot babes?”

      I was lost for a moment, then I realized he must be referring to the two young ladies on my arms. “These are Christy Turlington and Lacy Chabert,” I told him.

      Christy and Lacy said ‘Hi’.

      “Pleased to meet you,” Mr. Porter said. He smiled amiably. “I don’t suppose either of you is in the market for antiques?”

      “Well, Mr. Porter,” I said, “Christy here is actually a supermodel and Lacy is a movie star. They’re unlikely to be in need of damaged Ikea furniture to pass off as antiques any time in the near future.”

      “Fair enough.” Mr. Porter looked for something behind the counter. “So, does this mean you’re taking the day off, or are the girls just going to watch you sweep? There should be some chairs around here somewhere…”

      “They’re part of my Great Idea, actually.”


      “I was thinking we might attract more customers with the help of some beautiful girls. I realize we don’t have much of a budget, so I went to the airport to see if I couldn’t rustle up some volunteers. At first I’d planned to pick up some exotic looking women from the flight coming in from Brazil, but then I ran into Christy here and decided to up the stakes.”

      Christy smiled, seemed about to say something, then just giggled.

      “Then I went to check the flights from L.A., and used Christy as bait to get Lacy.”

      Lacy rolled her eyes. “Oh, please,” she said. “I picked you up.”

      “Either way,” I said, “both Christy and Lacy were kind enough to donate a few hours of their time to help us out.”

      “That’s great,” Mr. Porter said. “But what will they do, exactly?”


      I had to admit, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. In my experience, most of life’s problems tended to disappear more or less automatically when beautiful women arrived on the scene. I’d never thought to question the exact mechanics of it.

      “I could point at the antiques,” Christy offered. She gave us a quick sample, pointing out one of the items that had recently become priceless.

      Mr. Porter seemed doubtful. “You just point at them?” He shook his head. “I fail to see what that will accomplish. I’ve been pointing out these antiques to customers for over twenty years, never did me much good.”

      Christy smiled brightly. “But I’m a professional,” she said, “I’ve studied for this. I have techniques.”

      “Meaning what, exactly?”

      “well… I use different angles.”

      She gave us another sample. And while she did indeed look stunning, the antiques ended up looking more or less the same.

      “Try another angle,” I suggested.

      Christy did.

      “I don’t know…” Mr. Porter said.

      “Look,” Lacy interjected. “It’s very simple. All we need to do is reorder the list of inventory items by absolute descending profit margin and use this as a ranking with which to optimize store layout. This way we can quickly maximize revenue increase while at the same time facilitating interrelated item synergy. Next, we pop Christy outside in a tube top holding the top item.”

      Mr. Porter looked at me. “What’s she saying?”

      I wasn’t entirely sure. “Thank you for thinking along, Lacy,” I said, “but you’re a little difficult to understand.”

      “I have a red tube top!” Christy chirped. Then her face clouded over. “But I also have a blue one. It’s going to be difficult to choose.”

      I dug out my cell. “Okay,” I said. “Hold on everybody, I have another idea. Let me just call the Mayor, he’s a personal friend of mine. Maybe he can come over and officially open the store for us. Then Christy and Lacy can hold the ribbon while he cuts it. It’ll be great.”

      “But the store is already open,” Mr. Porter complained.

      I gestured around. “Really, though, who’s going to know?”