Update and Masters of Macabre 2012 entry

BOYE

Hello ladies and gentlemen.  Welcome to the Casa!

I hope you enjoyed the edited version of my first Masters of Macabre story, “The Problem With Neighbors”.  The past two weeks have been busy ones between work on a zombie novel, editing two short stories, and (drumroll please) the publication of one of my stories.  The story I wrote for the Bump Off Your Enemies contest was included in an anthology of the same name.  It is really exciting to finally have a story in print and I look forward to offering more.  In fact, here is the short story I submitted for the 2012  Masters of Macabre writing contest.  I will be back this Friday with a review of “Anon” by Peter Giglio.  Enjoy!

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Friends, Lovers, and Enemies

Steven had just settled on the couch for some much deserved television time when the pounding at the front door began.   A low groan escaped him as he plodded across the room to answer it.  Any feelings of exhaustion and pain he felt vanished after the door opened and Renée marched in.  Rather than stopping her, however, he simply smirked and closed the door.  “To what do I owe this sudden appearance?” he asked after joining her in the living room.  He made sure to sound annoyed to hide the excitement he felt from seeing her for the first time in months.

“I didn’t know who else to go to,” Renée said as she paced like a nervous wildcat.  A cigarette emerged from her purse and Steven instinctively stepped forward with a lighter in hand.   Her eyes focused on the hand for a second, but she relaxed after taking a long drag on her cigarette.  The way the smoke caressed the dark skin of her face brought back memories of happier times between them, but it also reminded him of how things had changed in their time apart.  There was a haunted look in her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in a while.  A smile tugged at the corners of Steven’s mouth when she said, “I need your help.  I think something bad has happened to Jean Phillipe.”

Steven tensed at the mention of his former best friend.  He and Jean Phillipe came from the same rough neighborhood and always watched each other’s back when there was trouble.  They were like brothers, but that didn’t stop Jean Phillipe from climbing into bed with Renée.  It devastated Steven when he caught the two of them together.  Now, three months after the betrayal, she was asking him for help in finding the man who stole her away.  After taking a deep breath to calm himself, Steven said, “Tell me what happened.”

“I got home from work late last night and the house was empty.”  Steven shrugged his shoulders and she snapped at him, “I know that doesn’t

mean anything!  It just felt like something was wrong, so I tried calling him, but his phone went directly to voice mail.  You know as well as I do that he never turns that thing off.”  The bitterness he heard in her voice further fueled his hope for reconciliation.

Play it simple, act concerned, and she’ll be yours again,” Steven reminded himself.  “So, he turned his phone off.  I’m guessing there was no note either?”  He bit his tongue to curb the urge to gloat when Renée shook her head.  The brief hint of blood on his tongue tasted like victory, but not enough of one yet.  “I think you need to sit down and have a drink…” he began saying before she pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard.

When their lips parted and his eyes opened, he saw hunger and anger in her gaze.  It was a side of her he missed, an animalistic side that made their lovemaking more intense, passionate, and dangerous.  “I don’t know why I left,” she whispered.  “You warned me about him, but I didn’t listen.”  Her fingers traced their way up the back of his neck and began playing with his hair.  He grimaced when she grabbed a handful of his dark locks only to smile when she said, “Let me make it up to you,” and pushed his lips back to hers.

Steven pulled away with a growl, and felt a rush of enjoyment as he looked from the strands of hair clenched in Renee’s fist to her grinning face.  “Oh, the pain she can inflict,” he thought with glee and leaned in for another kiss.  He stopped when he felt her finger touch his lips and looked at her with confusion.

With a wry smile, Renée said, “How about that drink?  Perhaps something strong to help me forget about past mistakes?”  Steven matched her

devious smile with one of his own before dashing off to the kitchen.  Seconds later he re-emerged with a bottle of cognac in one hand and two glasses in the other, but Renée no longer looked playful.

She stared at him with rage and held a doll in her outstretched hand.  “Where’s Jean Phillipe?” she hissed.  He smiled and tried taking a step towards her, but stopped when he noticed the hair from his head tied around the doll’s waist. His eyes went wide when she stuck a pin into the doll’s right arm and pain flared in his matching arm.  The bottle and glasses fell to the carpet and landed with soft thuds.  She stepped closer and pulled the pin out of the doll’s arm.  “Where is he?”

Through gasps of pain, Steven managed to say, “I thought you only used those voodoo dolls for healing people.”

“Normally I do, but I’ve found that they can also be very persuasive tools when needed.  Now,” she moved the pin to the doll’s left leg, “where is

Jean Phillipe?  You have the lighter I gave him last week, so you know what happened to him.”  The pin jammed hard into the doll’s leg and Steven’s screams of pain echoed through the room followed by a thud and the soft crunch of glass as he landed on the cognac bottle.  “Where is he?!”

One look at the fury on Renee’s face and Steven knew the torture would keep going until she got her answer.  Death wasn’t an escape since she knew ways to bring him back.  Instead, he opted for a reprieve from the pain.  “In the basement,” he whimpered, “He’s down in the basement.”

Renée stared at him for a couple of seconds before pulling a string from a pocket and wrapping it around the doll.  An invisible force snaked around Steven’s body in a similar fashion, forcing it to straighten with arms at his sides.  “There,” she said once the doll was completely bound, “We don’t want you wandering off just yet, now do we?”  He waited until she disappeared into the kitchen to try to break free, but found himself trussed up too tightly by whatever curse was on the doll.

When her scream rose from the basement Steven began giggling.  “I guess she found what she was looking for.”  A shuffling sound followed minutes later and Jean Phillipe shambled through the kitchen door.   “It’s about time,” Steven snapped.  “Honestly, do you think you can walk

a little slower next time?  I’m bleeding all over the carpet.”  His former best friend looked down at his new master with a glazed look.  “Did you bring the doll up with you?”  Jean Phillipe lifted the hand clutching the voodoo doll, the expression on his face unchanging.  “Good, now untie the string so I can get free.”  As the invisible ropes loosened around him, Steven felt relieved that Renée didn’t know how well he worked with zombies.  “Hopefully her body isn’t too damaged to bring back,” he thought as he climbed to his feet.

******

As always, if you want to leave a comment, please do so below.  Let me know your opinion  and feel free to share mine with your friends, family, and yes, even your enemies.  I’m on FacebookTwitterGoogle +, and via e-mail at dpitsiladis@gmail.com.  Also, look for my short story “Bully” in the “Bump Off Your Enemies” e-book anthology available through Amazon.

And remember… Why so serious?

Donald P.

A different take on the day – The Problem With Neighbors (edited version)

Hello ladies and gentlemen!  Today is the day I normally reserve for giving a shout out to the great podcasts out in the Internet, but I thought I might try something a little different this week.  As this week has been an abnormal one in some ways (especially sleep wise), I thought I might entertain you with a story.  As you may recall, I posted a story on here about a week and a half ago titled, “The Problem With Neighbors”.   This was the first story I had ever released to an audience, and while the draft you read needed more work, I now want to share a later version of the story to show the progress I’ve made on it.  I still do not think it is a perfect story, but I feel it is a much stronger version than the earlier one. Please, check it out and let me know what you think.  Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated.  I hope you enjoy this version and remember… Why so serious?

DLP

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The Problem with Neighbors

 by Donald L Pitsiladis

            “Does he have to do that now?!” Ted snapped as he turned the television volume up for a third time.  “Why can’t his lawn wait until later, like when the Steelers aren’t playing?”  Karen lowered the magazine she was reading and regarded her husband with a raised eyebrow. He met her gaze and said, “I know, I know.  I should go and talk to the guy, but what’s the point?  I mean the weather’s going to change soon and he’ll need to put that thing into storage.  He can’t possibly mow the lawn when there’s a blanket of snow covering it, right?”  Turning his attention back to the game, Ted added, “Besides, my mom raised me to respect my neighbors, regardless of how inconsiderate and stupid they may be.”  A small snort laugh erupted from Karen when he turned to her and said, “Plus I don’t want to be responsible for hurting him if he tries to pick a fight with me over it.”        

             After five more minutes of mumbling, grumbling and raising the volume to near deafening levels, Karen finally had enough. She slammed the magazine on the arm of the chair and said, “I don’t know what’s worse, you trying to make me deaf or me wishing I was so I didn’t have to hear to you complain.”  The magazine slid to the floor and Ted’s mouth opened and closed in shock as a near naked muscle-man smiled up from the pages.  “I asked you to talk to him weeks ago, fish boy, but oh no, not you.”  She raised her hands palms out and, with heavy sarcasm, added, “You’re much too high and mighty to do something so simple.”  She reached over and snatched the remote control from his hand.  “Well guess what, I’m done asking.  Either you go tell him to finish his lawn after your stupid game is over or shut up!”  She clicked the television off and said with a half grin as she scooped up her magazine, “Or are you not man enough?”

Ted’s face burned with anger and embarrassment and a dozen retorts flashed through his mind.  Rather than start another pointless argument, he calmly slid his feet into a pair of sandals under the coffee table and walked to the front door.  He paused before grabbing the door handle when Karen asked with heavy sarcasm, “Was that thunder?” Her laughter echoed off the walls as he gazed outside with trepidation.  The screen door slammed behind him as he walked out into the cloudless, sunny day.

“Is getting upset over someone taking care of their yard really worth the trouble?” Ted wondered as he watched the neighbor maneuver his mower from the bottom step of his porch.  The mower was a large one, but it looked small compared to the man atop it.  “Maybe I can watch the game with the closed captioning turned on.  It looks like he’s almost finished.  I’ll bring him a beer after the game and talk to him.”  When he turned to go back inside, Ted found Karen staring down at him from the top of the stairs, a disgusted and disappointed look on her face.  She mumbled something and shook her head before turning to go inside as well.  Ted felt the familiar heat of anger and embarrassment and thought, “I may love my Steelers, but my dignity is more important.”  He started across the yard determined to prove his wife wrong.

The neighbor seemed big from a distance, but not in any imposing way. The closer Ted got, however, the larger the mower jockey looked.  The red-haired man looked to be at least a head taller and had arms that looked more like steel cables encased in chiseled granite. His large belly jiggled in time with the mower’s vibration.  Oddly, the man’s legs looked no bigger than his own.  “How can a man with such strong arms care so little about the rest of his body?”

Ted stopped at the joint property line and waited to get his neighbor’s attention with hands in pockets.  His rational side took the moment to try to talk some sense into him, “The guy’s going to stomp a mud hole in you and walk it dry without breaking a sweat!”  It was quickly overshadowed by his louder, macho side, “Sure, he might beat you into a bloody pulp, but isn’t your wife’s respect worth a little pain?  Who knows, maybe standing up to this guy will make her want you more than the guys in those magazine pictures.”

Ted’s mind was so focused on Karen and her magazine that he didn’t notice the mower pull up until an Irish accented voice said, “Top of the morning to you.”  He quickly turned to the source and found the Irishman smiling down from his mechanical steed.  Without waiting for the customary response, the big man extended a hand and added, “Liam O’Shaunnessy.”  Ted stared at the massive paw with an odd feeling of dread, but thought of Karen and her taunting before locking eyes with his neighbor.

“I don’t care what your name is,” Ted said calmly before growling out, “What I DO care about is me trying to relax after a long week of work with a football game on T.V., and having your lawn mower ruin it!”  Liam’s smile faltered and his hand lowered just a little while Ted continued the verbal onslaught.  ”Look, I know you’re new to the neighborhood, and, judging by your accent, probably new to this country, but we Americans take our football VERY seriously.”  The Irishman’s smile disappeared and Ted noticed a slight blush rise in his neighbor’s cheeks, but didn’t let it stop the roll he was on.  “Now, I’m going back inside to watch the rest of today’s game.  Why don’t you go pour yourself some Frosted Lucky Charms, hide your wee pot o’ gold, or maybe put on a skirt and Riverdance your way up and down the street.  Frankly, I don’t care what you do, as long as you’re quiet while doing it.”

The perplexed look on Liam’s face was priceless.  Unsure of how long it might last or what the big Irishman’s reaction might be, Ted turned and marched to the house with his head held high and a satisfied smile.  The smile broadened into a grin as he neared Karen and saw the shocked expression on her face.  She glared at him when he said, “Surprised?” as he walked by and crossed the yard to a still stunned Liam.  Ted watched in amazement as she apologized for him before introducing herself.  A small cinder of jealousy flickered when Liam took her hand and held it for longer than a normal introduction.  Karen’s reaction, giggling like a little school girl hungry for attention, fanned the flames.  As he watched their interaction, the only two things that prevented it from becoming a larger blaze was the trust he had in his wife and physics.

Frustrated that his attempt to impress Karen failed, Ted sauntered back into the house.  A used car dealer shouting about how crazy he was greeted him when the television turned back on.  ”At least her flirting will buy me some peace and quiet for the rest of the game.”  He settled back into the soft confines of his couch and thought, “I need to remember to do something romantic for her later.  I’m sure if I make her dinner or buy her a dishwasher she’ll get over it.”

***

            Several nights later, while taking the garbage to the curb, Ted noticed something odd sitting in Liam’s garage.  From a distance, it resembled a regular lawn mower, but the bright orange flames and neon green number four on the side made him think otherwise.  Curiosity sank its claws in deep, and, after a glance around to make sure no one was watching, he entered Liam’s garage for a better look.  Identical artwork decorated the opposite side and the hood, but that wasn’t what made it different from a normal riding mower.  While most lawn mower blades hovered close to the ground, the belly of this beast stood at least a half-foot off the ground.  “What kind of lawn does he intend to use this on?” he muttered.

A metallic ping from the ground drew Ted’s attention to a set of chrome wrenches under his left foot.  Next to them lay a meticulous line of screwdrivers that reminded him of the tools his older brother used to tune up a dirt bike before a race.  “Why would someone want these for a lawn mower?” he wondered.  Then he remembered watching a news story about lawn mower racing a couple of months ago.  He didn’t remember any with blades so high off the ground in the video they showed, and it made him curious why Liam’s was.  “Knock on the door and ask him,” he thought, but then remembered the past weekend.  He decided to leave with the question unanswered.

Ted stopped at the edge of Liam’s driveway with eyes wide open.  “The Steelers are playing the Pack this Sunday.”  It was the one game on the schedule he really wanted to see, and he’d completely forgotten all about it.  Hand met forehead with a loud smack as he turned back to face the garage.  ”I can’t miss this game,” he thought.  “Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll be at some race this weekend,” he reasoned before deciding he didn’t want to take the chance.  It wasn’t neighborly, but if it meant watching the game uninterrupted…

A quick look around the cul-de-sac revealed only drawn curtains and an empty street.  Ted quietly returned to the mower and dropped to his haunches on the opposite side.  Another look at the shininess of the motor and he knew any disconnected hoses or wires would be noticed right away.  Instead, his focus shifted to a tiny wire above the motor.  “He’ll never notice this is gone.” Ted pocketed the red wire and exited the garage with a satisfied grin.

***

            Ted settled on the couch with a large plate of nachos and a six-pack of amber beer within easy reach.  Karen glanced up from her magazine when the pregame show began and, with a heavy dose of sarcasm, asked, “Are you going to blast the volume now, or will you wait until you can complain about it?”  Before he could answer, a flurry of shouts and curses from outside drew Karen to the front door.  Ted grinned with pride as the players gathered midfield for the opening coin toss and didn’t stop, even when Pittsburgh lost the toss.

Karen’s heavy footsteps signaled her return, but Ted, determined to enjoy the game, kept his attention on the television.  Just as the Steelers kicker launched the ball into the air, she stepped in front of the screen with arms crossed and a scowl.  “What the hell?!” he shouted through a mouth full of nachos.  An open bottle of beer sitting on the table tipped over when he gestured toward her and the television.  He relaxed after the announcers called the player down on the Packer’s thirty yard line.  In a polite, but slightly impatient voice, he asked, “Can you please step away from the screen?  I’ve been waiting months for this game and, let’s be honest, you make a better door than a window.”

For a second, Ted thought he saw actual flames in his wife’s eyes.  “What did you do?”  He rolled his eyes and leaned back on the couch with fingers laced behind his head.  When it became obvious he wasn’t going to answer the question, Karen snatched the remote control from the table.  “I know you did something to it, and you’re going to tell me what.”  Ted smiled back at her with tight lips and he reached down and cracked open a fresh bottle of beer.  “Fine!”  She stepped away just as the Steelers safety leapt for an easy interception, but the screen turned black just as the ball hit the player’s hands.  “If you want to see any part of this game,” Karen’s voice said from behind the couch, “you will apologize to Liam and help him fix whatever you broke.”

Ted gently slammed his bottle down on the coffee table and flashed a sarcastic smile before walking to the front door.  He didn’t care what kind of mess the beer made as it foamed out and joined the previous bottle’s puddle.  “Don’t think you’ve won, because you haven’t,” he said as he stepped into his sneakers.   ”I’m not going to apologize to that Irishman.  If anything, he owes me one for ruining the only day of the week I get to relax.”  Before stepping out the door, Ted looked over his shoulder and said, “I’m going to Joe’s.  Don’t wait up.”

***

            The Steelers easily picked up the win, but Ted found himself unable to enjoy the game.  Instead, he downed enough pitchers of beer to make the world around him blur.  He didn’t want to admit it, but Karen was right.  No matter how wronged he felt, sabotaging the lawn mower had crossed the line.  When the clock above the bar chimed seven times, Ted knew it was time to head for home and face a gloating, “I told you so.”  The dark storm clouds blowing in went unnoticed as he began his trek home.

Whatever alcohol induced buzz Ted felt vanished after the first streak of lightning lit up the sky.  Tendrils of fear wrapped around him as memories of nightmares past came forward.  “There’s no way I can make it home or back to Joe’s in time,” he thought after calculating the storm’s distance.  Fear quickly approached panic as he scanned for a place to hide without finding any.  “Stupid!” he growled under his breath.  “You should have checked the weather before you left!  At least then you’d be safe indoors instead of out in the open waiting to be struck.”

Ted saw the large shadow a split second before being shoved to the ground.  A loud, “Oof!” escaped him as chest, hands, and forehead struck the pavement.  Colorful lights played across his vision as he struggled on the ground to breathe again.  When the cool night air finally returned to his lungs, he closed his eyes and tried to crawl away from his assailant.  “The next kick will be in the ribs, I just know it,” he thought before a massive hand wrapped around his right ankle.

Ted opened his eyes in time to see lightening dancing through the clouds and he let out a whimper.  “Do you play in traffic often?” an Irish voice asked.  Ted scrambled to his feet, only to stumble against a wall as the rainbow blossoms returned.  After a couple of seconds, his vision cleared enough to see the concerned look on Liam’s face.  “Sorry I had to get so rough, but I didn’t think you saw the truck coming up behind you.”  He took another step closer, “Are you going to be all right?”

Ted nodded and managed to cough out a thank you before noticing the Irishman’s shirt.  His stomach lurched as he read “The International Lawn Mower Racing Championship” in bright red letters across the front.  Massive hands clenched his shoulders and helped straighten him up.  “Thanks,” he said again as questions ran through his mind, “Did Karen tell him what I did?  Is this all just a setup so he can pound me after?  Why did I pluck that wire out?”  A rumble of thunder echoed through the street and Ted’s body tensed up again.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you badly,” Liam said with concern.  When it looked like Ted was steadier, the Irishman offered a handshake.  “I know we got off on the wrong foot after I moved in, and I’m sorry if my mowing disturbed you.  I’d like to change that, if it’s okay with you.”

“Did you walk or drive here?” Ted asked after another bright flicker lit up the sky behind Liam.  The big man gave him a curious look and gestured to a red pickup truck parked about a block away.  Ted grinned nervously and said, “Good, you can start by driving me home please.  I can’t be out here when this storm finally opens up.”  Liam looked up at the sky and, when realization of his neighbor’s fear hit him, he helped him to the truck.  The rain began its torrential fall just as the doors closed.

After a couple of minutes of silent driving, Ted’s nerves finally began to settle and he thought it best to test the waters and see if Karen tattled on him.  “So, I heard you had a bit of trouble with your mower today.”

“Aye, I did.  It didn’t want to start.  I tried everything I knew, but nothing worked.”  Ted felt his heart jump into his throat as they drove by their houses and Liam said, “Then I got a visit from that little wife of yours, and she told me this wild tale.” He turned to look at his smaller neighbor, “She said that you had something to do with it and then showed me a little wire.  Wouldn’t you know it, as soon as I put that wire where it belonged, the motor fired right up.  Isn’t that the funniest thing you ever heard?”

“Look, I’m sorry.  It was an important game, and I didn’t want to miss any of it.”  They turned left at a corner and Ted guessed they were going around the block before heading home.  “He just wants to talk, that’s all,” he thought.  “Just play along and you’ll be safe at home in a minute or so.”  “I realize it was a rotten thing to do and I feel really guilty about it.”

Liam waved it off and said, “Oh pshaw!  I completely understand what team loyalty is all about.  Believe it or not, I used to play a bit of rugby in my homeland of Ireland.”  He stared off into the distance and said in a wistful voice, “Now there’s a sport.  It’s played a lot like your American football, only we didn’t use pads or helmets.  I was quite good at it too, on the verge of a championship season.”

They turned right and Ted began feeling a little nervous.  “W-What happened?” he asked.

“Oh, they banned me from the game.  It seems the game officials don’t like it when you cripple members of the opposite team.  They really hate it when players accidentally die in a pile up.”  Liam’s smile fell as he continued, “After that, no sport wanted me because of my reputation.  Professional lawn mower racing became the only thing left for me.”  Ted swallowed hard as Liam’s expression darkened, “Today was the championship, and I was the odds on favorite to win it all.  My one and only chance at a championship, and I miss it because of a little wire.”

Guilt and fear rolled around inside Ted.  He wanted to apologize so badly, but the only thing to come out was, “I-I-I…”

Liam’s large hand clapped Ted on the shoulder and he said, “If you’re going to say you’re sorry, don’t.  You didn’t know about the race, so I can’t hold that against you.  If you want to make it up to me, I might know of a suggestion.”  Ted cocked his head with curiosity, unsure if he wanted to hear the suggestion.  He fought the urge to laugh when his neighbor said, “Race me.”

“Race you?”

“Aye.  I’ll be on my mower of course, and you’ll be on foot.  If you win, I’ll tend to my lawn quietly during every one of your team’s games.”

“Sounds fair,” Ted said knowing it was anything but.  He smiled and asked, “But, what if you win?”

As they passed the last building in town limits, Liam turned and fixed a crazy smile at Ted.  “Why, I get everything.  Your house.  Your car.  Your lovely wife.  All of it will be mine.  In short I get your life.”

Ted’s smile faltered as the words sank in.  “You’re kidding, right?  Joking?”  His smile disappeared completely when he saw the seriousness behind Liam’s grin.  “You can’t expect me to agree to that!  No one in their right mind would.”

Liam’s hand shot out and grasped the back of Ted’s neck before the smaller man could react and he said, “You’ll agree to it, boyo, because if you don’t, I’ll snap your little neck.  You’ll die knowing your little wife is next.  Perhaps I’ll get to know her before…”  The hand on Ted’s neck tightened slightly.

The rest of the trip passed in silence, broken only by momentary bursts of humming from Liam.  They pulled ahead of the storm, but only by a couple of miles.  Ted thought of different ways to escape, but each one ended either with him, Karen, or both dying painfully.  By the time they pulled to a stop in a grassy field, he resolved to win the race by any means necessary.  “It’s only a lawn mower, how fast can they really go?”

When Ted climbed out and looked around, he was in utter shock.  His eyes closed and opened a couple of times as the grassy meadow waved back at him.  A rumble of thunder in the distance completed the scene from his nightmares.  “How is this possible?” he thought.  “It has to be a bad dream, it just has to be!”  He brought his left hand to his right and pinched hard.  One “Ouch!” under his breath and he knew it wasn’t.

“You better start stretching,” Liam said with a savage smile as he walked to his mower.

Instead of stretching, Ted followed Liam, “Where is she?  Where’s my wife?”  The Irishman looked back over his shoulder with a grin and gestured with his head to a person sitting in the middle of the field.  “Karen?”

Before Ted got more than two steps towards her, Liam held up a device and said, “Uh, uh, uh.  I wouldn’t do that unless you want the both of you to go boom.”  He looked at the device and said aloud, “If you try to free her before you win the race, I will detonate the explosives attached to her chair.  You both will be nothing more than a fiery memory.”

“He’s telling the truth!” Karen shouted.  “There’s some kind of device attached to the back of the chair.”  She sobbed a little and added, “Just do what he wants, Ted, please!  I want to go home!”

“Now, if you feel ready, let’s conclude our business.  The rules are simple, first to the forest wins.”  Liam glanced to the sky and added, “And, out of fairness to you and your little phobia, I’m giving you a head start of a quarter of the distance.  The storm’s already caught up with us, and I know how distracted it makes you.”  Ted lined his foot up to the edge of the front wheel and waited.  A part of him felt the rush of anticipation before a race, something he hadn’t felt since his college days.  “On your mark!” Liam shouted and he focused on the nearest tree.  ”Get set!”  Ted leaned forward, his toes digging into the dirt.  “Go!”

Ted shot off the line in a hard sprint hoping to take a sizable lead before slowing his pace to conserve strength and energy for one last burst at the end, if he needed it.  The modified lawn mower uttered a loud roar as it left the starting line and the race really started.  Ted fought the urge to panic and increase his pace when he heard the machine’s growl grow louder behind him.

When he was about fifteen feet from his goal, Ted decided it was time for one last burst of speed.  Before he could, bright tendrils of lightning crossed the sky in his direction and something struck him in the back.  A massive jolt of electricity ran through his body and he dropped face first into the grass.  A feeling of déjà vu came over Ted as his dream from college, the source of his lightning phobia, played out in his mind.  Instead of waking up, however, he lay on the ground with muscles convulsing.

The mower stopped within a couple of feet from Ted’s legs.  Liam’s grin widened when he forced out the words, “You cheated!”  His anger turned to shock when he heard a woman’s laugh behind him.  Karen stepped up next to Liam with a funny looking gun in one hand.  He managed to ask, “Karen?  How? Why?” before she pumped another cartridge into the chamber and fired again.  Another jolt of electricity traveled through his body from his stomach where the projectile struck him.

“Because, this is cheaper than a divorce, and your life insurance is too good to pass up.”  She put the Taser gun next to her and ran the back of her hand lightly against Liam’s cheek while staring at her husband.  “You honestly thought I’d let myself take the heat for something you did?  That I let myself get bound to a chair and be blown up for you?”  She shook her head and said as she walked away, “Remember, complete mulch.”  A satisfied grin stretched across Liam’s face as he looked from Karen’s sashaying hips to Ted and shifted the mower into gear.

Podcast Spotlight – A Different Point of View

Hello ladies and gentlemen!  Welcome to the Casa!

With the events in Boston still pretty fresh, I thought a little geek humor might be in order.  Without further ado, I offer up to you… A Different Point of View.

We all know the story of Star Wars.  What we only see in those movies is how things looked from the Jedi and Rebel side of the story.  Have you ever wondered what the other side of the story might be?  Were the Imperial Stormtroopers really bad shots?  Was the Emperor such a bad leader?  Were the Fetts really such great bounty hunters?  TD-0013 is an Imperial Sandtrooper who shares a different side of the Star Wars story and it is a hilarious one.

I first ran across this podcast on Podiobooks.com and I loved it.  I found it funny and in a way, enlightening.  It definitely gives a fan of the series a different view of everything in the movies.  I recently played the podcast again for my oldest son and he really enjoyed it as well.  If you are in a need of a laugh, and after yesterday I think some of you here in the States may, this is a podcast/podiobook I recommend.  You can find this podcast on Podiobooks.com or through Itunes.

As always, if you want to leave a comment, please do so below.  Let me know your opinion  and feel free to share mine with your friends, family, and yes, even your enemies.  I’m on FacebookTwitterGoogle +, and via e-mail at dpitsiladis@gmail.com.

And remember… Why so serious?

Donald P.

New Fiction – The Problem With Neighbors

Hello ladies and gentlemen!  I don’t have a book review to share with you this week, but figured since I just posted about the 2013 Masters of Macabre contest that I would share one of my previous entries into the contest.  Here is the entry I submitted in the first contest.  One word of warning, I am still working on polishing it up for future publication, but wanted to share how it looked the first time I recorded the story.  The contest details are that I needed to include a sporting event, fear of lightening and thunder, and a riding lawnmower.  I hope you enjoy it.

***

The Problem With Neighbors

By Donald L. Pitsiladis

             “Does he have to do that now?!” Ted snapped as he turned the television volume up for the third time that hour.  “He can’t mow his lawn later tonight or on a Saturday?”  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his wife Karen roll her eyes before turning them back to her magazine.  It was the same complaint he’d made every Sunday since their neighbor moved in a month ago.  She’d suggested talking to him multiple times, but Ted didn’t like confrontations and always had an excuse ready for why he couldn’t.  “The weather is already changing and it’ll be put into storage soon.  I mean, you can’t mow the lawn when there’s snow on the ground, right?”, “It just isn’t the neighborly thing to do,” or “He might try to pick a fight with me if I complain, and I really don’t want to hurt him.”  That last reason always drew a snort laugh from Karen.

After grumbling and messing with the volume for five more minutes, Ted heard a plop behind him and turned to see Karen’s magazine falling off the arm of her chair.  When it hit the floor, it splayed open to pictures of men and women with muscles larger than his head, and he shot his wife a questioning look.  The look turned to ash under the angry heat of her gaze as she said, “You know, instead of always complaining about how lousy of a neighbor he is, why don’t you just go and talk to him?  I’m sure he’ll understand and finish cutting his grass after your stupid game is over.”  She waited a full heartbeat before really hitting below the belt, “Or are you not man enough?”

Ted’s face grew hot from that last shot, enough so that he growled, “Fine!” slipped on his shoes, and walked out the door before realizing what he was doing.  He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and watched as his neighbor cut the grass next to his own driveway, oblivious to the problems he was causing.   Ted wanted to go back inside and finish watching the game, but found Karen staring down at him from the front porch and knew there was no chance of that happening.  With a deep breath he marched across the yard thinking, “Maybe if she sees how tough I really am, she’ll start respecting me again.

The closer Ted got to his neighbor, the more distinct their size difference became.  Not only was the other man about a foot taller, he also had arms that looked like steel cables encased in chiseled granite and a large belly that jiggled in time with the mower.  The rational part of Ted’s brain tried talking him out of the confrontation, citing the neighbor’s distinct size and strength advantage by saying, “You’re going to get your butt kicked.”  The louder, more macho part of him won the mental debate by pointing out, “He may just beat you up, but at least you’ll regain Karen’s respect.  Isn’t that worth a little pain?”  His wife really did need to see that he was capable of standing up to guys like this, otherwise there might never be an end to her mocking.

As one would expect, the closer Ted got, the louder the mower became, so he decided to wait where the property lines met and wave to get his neighbor’s attention.  He was a little surprised when the big man turned off his engine seconds later and jogged over with a warm smile.  Ted returned the smile, but not out of politeness.  He found it strange that a man with so much strength in his arms would pay so little attention to the rest of himself.  He nearly burst out laughing when the man offered his hand and said with an Irish accent, “Good afternoon.  We haven’t met yet, have we?  Liam O’Shannessy.”

Ted gave the proffered hand only half a glance before pouncing, “I don’t care what your name is.  What I DO care about is that every weekend, while I’m trying to relax and watch a football game, I hear your lawnmower instead.”  Liam’s smile faltered and his hand fell slowly to his side as Ted continued his verbal onslaught, “Look, I know you’re new to the neighborhood and, judging by your accent, probably new to this country, but we Americans take our football VERY seriously.”  A slight blush rose in Liam’s cheeks and his eyes grew wide before quickly thinning to slits when Ted said, “Now, I’m going back inside to watch the rest of today’s game.  Go pour yourself some Frosted Lucky Charms, hide your wee pot o’ gold, or put on a skirt and Riverdance your way up and down the street.  Frankly, I don’t care what you do, as long as you’re quiet while doing it.”

Not wanting to give him a chance to reply, Ted turned on his heel and marched back to the house with his head held high and a satisfied smile.  The smile grew wider as he walked by his wife, as if to say, “See, I told you I would handle it.”  Instead of being impressed, however, Karen tsked him loudly before walking over to the stunned Irishman.  He watched in amazement as she introduced herself and shook Liam’s hand.  A small flame of jealousy sparked to life, fueled by how much the Irishman reminded him of Collin Farrell, his wife’s favorite actor.  The only thing that kept the little flame from growing into a much larger blaze was that, all teasing and bantering aside, he trusted his wife.  “At least she’ll buy me some time to watch the game in peace and quiet,” he thought as he sauntered back into the house.   The booming voice of a used car dealer telling everyone how crazy he was greeted him as he settled back onto the couch.

Several nights later, as Ted was pulling his garbage cans to the curb, he noticed an odd looking lawn mower sitting in Liam’s garage.  From ten feet away, the neon green number four on the mower’s face surrounded by bright orange flames leapt out at him from the black background.  The strange effect piqued his curiosity and drew him closer for a better look.  Identical numbers and flames adorned each side of the hood, but none had the same affect as the one on the machine’s face.  “So, this is why I can’t enjoy my Sundays,” he thought as he dropped to one knee beside it.  A closer look at the mower itself showed him that the fancy artwork wasn’t the only thing that made it different.  Most lawnmowers, riding or not, generally kept their blade guards close to the ground to guarantee a nice low cut.  The belly of this beast, however, stood at least a foot or so off the ground, making it impossible to cut any grass shorter than knee height.  “What kind of lawn mower is this?” he whispered.

Looking at the mechanics of the mower, he found alterations made to the fuel line, motor, and clutch.  These changes puzzled Ted because they weren’t typically done to a lawnmower.  As he rounded the front of the machine, a metallic ping from the ground helped resolve part of the mystery.  A shiny set of chrome wrenches lay slightly askew under his left foot.  Next to them lay several screwdrivers meticulously lined up in order by size.  They reminded him of the tools his older brother had used to tune up his dirt bike before a race.  “Why would someone want to tune up a lawnmower like that?” he wondered before remembering a news story he saw a couple of months ago.  It was about a group of people in the Midwest that held annual lawnmower races for their local fair.  He didn’t remember seeing any mowers looking as tricked out as this in the video they showed, and it made him curious enough to want to ask Liam why he’d made these changes.  In the end, he didn’t knock on the front door and ask because, to him, it wasn’t the neighborly thing to do.

With a shake of his head and a deep sigh, Ted made his way back home.  He got3 as far as the edge of his driveway before stopping with eyes wide open.  His Steelers were playing the Packers that Sunday in a Super Bowl rematch, and he’d completely forgotten about it.  It was the one game he’d been most looking forward to since the schedule came out months ago.  “I can’t miss this game,” he thought and turned back to his neighbor’s garage.  “Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll be at some out of town race that day,” he thought without knowing what the chances were of that happening.  When he thought about all of the games he didn’t get to enjoy or had been forced to miss because of Liam’s yard work, he made a decision.  It wasn’t something a good neighbor did or was supposed to do, but he didn’t want to miss any of the game that Sunday.  “Besides,” he reasoned with a touch of anger, “it’s not like he’s been very neighborly to me since moving in, either,”.

Ted scanned the cul de sac to see if anyone was outside or looking his way, and found only drawn curtains in the windows and an otherwise empty street.  Walking quickly and quietly, he made his way back to Liam’s garage and dropped to his haunches next to the lawn mower.  Inside the motor he found a wire that was easy to reach and even easier to overlook when troubleshooting.  With a single swipe of his finger, he deftly plucked the wire out, placed it in his pocket, and jogged home with a satisfied grin.  The remainder of his evening was spent reading a newspaper in his recliner and wishing he could see the look on his neighbor’s face when he tried to start the mower.

Game day found Ted settled on the couch with a six pack of amber beer and a large plate of nachos begging to be eaten.  Karen sat in the recliner with her nose buried in the latest copy of “O” magazine, a welcome change from the previous Sunday’s selection.  When the announcers began naming the starting players for each team, she looked up and sarcastically asked, “Aren’t you going to turn the volume up?”  Her right eyebrow rose when he grinned and shook his head no.  He saw the question, “Why not?” form on her lips, but a flurry of shouts and curses from outside left it unasked.  Ted chuckled as she walked to the front window to look for the source of such colorful language.  The players gathered at midfield on the television screen for the opening coin toss when he heard her angrily ask, “What did you do to Liam’s lawn mower?!”  Ted stopped laughing as Pittsburgh lost the coin toss.

Ted heard Karen stomping around behind him, but chose to ignore her unless she interfered with his enjoyment of the game.  The last thing he saw before her body blocked the screen was the Steeler’s kicker launching the ball high and deep into the other team’s zone.  His left hand automatically shot out towards her and he shouted “What the hell?!”  She responded by crossing her arms in front of her chest and angrily glaring at him.  He calmed down after a minute and said in a polite, but still impatient voice, “Can you please move away from the screen?  I’ve been waiting to watch this game for months and, to be honest, you make a better door than a window.”

“Liam needs that lawn mower running today, and I know you did something to it!”  Ted rolled his eyes with annoyance at the accusation, laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back on the couch.  When it became obvious he wasn’t going to give her the confession she was looking for, she snatched the remote control from the table, stepped to her right, and said, “Fine, if you won’t cooperate with me, then I don’t have a choice.”  He watched as a Steeler safety leapt for an easy interception before the screen turned black.  “If you want to watch any part of this game, you will apologize to Liam and help him fix whatever it is you broke.”

Ted shot his wife a nasty look before he walking to the front door and slipping his shoes on.  With his hand on the door handle, he said, “Don’t think you’ve won, because you haven’t.”  He pointed in his neighbor’s direction and continued, “I will not apologize to that man for anything.  If someone owes anyone an apology, it’s him for ruining my Sundays.”  He opened the door and stepped outside, saying over his shoulder, “I’m going to Joe’s.  Don’t wait up.”

The game lasted only two and a half hours with the Steelers easily picking up the win.  Unfortunately for Ted, the portion he caught was boring and uneventful, so he made up for it by downing appetizers and pitchers of beer until everything was a blur.  None of it tasted good, but they helped him deal with the bitter taste of his wife being right yet again.  He’d crossed the line and needed to apologize for breaking Liam’s mower, although he still felt one was owed to him as well.  When the clock above the bar chimed eight times, he decided it was probably time to head for home.  “Maybe she’ll be so glad I’m home that she’ll forget why she was so mad,” his drink addled brain thought.  He was so inebriated that he didn’t notice how dark the sky had become as he left the bar.  If he had seen it, he would have gone back inside and called for Karen to come pick him up.

Ted suffered from astraphobia, a fear of thunder and lightening, and was especially terrified of being outside during a storm.  His phobia started with a series of nightmares in his freshman year of college and only snowballed from there.  In the dreams, he was being chased through a meadow by something he never saw, and yet knew was large, mean and wanted to kill him.  He remembered a storm brewing overhead as he tried escaping to a nearby forest, only to be brought down feet from his goal by a bolt of lightning to the back.  He woke instantly each time and soon after stopped venturing outdoors when he knew a storm was coming, lest any of his fears came true.

The alcoholic buzz Ted felt evaporated with the first flash of lightning.  He was halfway home and, even running at his fastest, wouldn’t have made it back to his house or the bar before the storm’s arrival.  By the time the sky lit up a second time, he was already looking for a place to hide and scolding himself for not checking the weather beforehand.  Sure, it might have meant staying home and dealing with his wife’s nagging, but the safety it offered was worth it.  Instead, he found himself in the one place he never wanted to be, in the middle of a dark street with lightening dancing all around him.  He was so pre-occupied with his situation that he didn’t notice the other person on the street until they collided.

Ted landed hard on his back with a loud, “Oof!” as the air rushed out of him.  He felt panic nearly take over as he tried to draw a breath while also watching electricity dance among the clouds above him.  When he felt the cool night air re-enter his lungs, he sat up and looked for a place to hide and for the person he hit.  Shelter was still nowhere to be found, but he was able to locate the other man.  “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he managed to cough out as the man climbed to his feet.  Ted’s stomach clenched when he recognized Liam and saw that he didn’t look happy.

The Irishman didn’t say anything right away and didn’t need to.  The anger in his gaze and the way his body shook spoke volumes on how he felt.  Ted tried smiling at him, all the while wondering, “Did Karen tell him?”  When he saw the shirt Liam was wearing, he understood why his attempt at friendliness was not being reciprocated.  “The International Lawnmower Racing Championship” was emblazoned across his chest in big, bright red letters with the current date.  “So, that was what Karen meant about him needing the mower today,” Ted thought and braced for whatever Liam wanted to dish out.  Silently, he prayed that the word lawsuit didn’t get mentioned.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” Ted said jovially as he got to his feet.  He hoped that a little light hearted humor might ease some of the tension in the air, but that hope withered under Liam’s unchanged look of hatred.  Taking a step forward, Ted extended his right hand and said, “Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot last week, and I’m sorry for that.  Things have been very hectic lately and I haven’t been feeling my normal, friendly self.  I’d like to change that, if it’s okay with you.”  A flicker in the sky overhead reminded him that he still needed to find some kind of shelter before the storm arrived.

A loud clap of thunder reverberated off the nearby buildings as Liam stared at the proffered hand.  “You cost me my championship,” he said in a calm, flat voice that caught Ted off guard.  He had expected and braced himself for an emotional explosion of some kind, but the controlled way the Irishman spoke frightened him more.  “Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get to that race?  What I had to sacrifice?” Liam lifted his head to look his neighbor in the eyes.  “Today was going to be my chance at fame and glory, and you stole it from me so you could watch your little football game in peace and quiet?”

Ted’s mouth opened and closed as he searched for the right words.  “I’m so very sorry, Liam, I had no idea,” he finally said, “I-I-Is there some way I can make it up to you?”  His neighbor silently glared at him as a brilliant bolt of lightning split the heavens a short distance away.  It was like the storm wanted to remind Ted that it was still coming and was hungry for him.  “Do you mind if we move this indoors, please?” he asked in a nervous voice, “I really don’t like being outside when the weather is like this.”  His eyes followed a series of flashes in the sky and he added, “I’m sure we can come to some kind of an agreement once we’re safe in a shelter.  I mean, it was only a lawnmower race, right?”  As soon as those last words left his lips, he regretted saying them.

Ted watched as the expression on Liam’s face changed to one of pure rage and his body tensed up like a snake coiling to strike.  He, on the other hand, jumped like a scared mouse when another flash of lightning lit up the sky.  When he looked back at his neighbor a second later, the fury on the Irishman’s face was replaced by an evil grin that sent chills up his spine.  “I figured out how you can make it up to me,” Liam said.  “We’re going to have ourselves a little race.  If you win, I’ll dismantle my mower and never build another.”

“What if you win?” Ted asked, already dreading the answer.

“Why, if I win, I get your wife, Teddy m’boy.  After all, a lonely man like me might enjoy spending time in the company of a beautiful woman like her, am I right?” Liam said with a wink.

“No!” Ted growled in anger.  “There’s no way I’ll ever make a bet like that.  Nothing in this world is worth more to me than her.”

“Not even your own life?” Liam asked as he pulled a strange looking gun from his pocket.  “You see, I’ve travelled through life so focused on winning a championship that I needed to forgo certain things, namely dating and marriage.  Now that you’ve destroyed my dream, I feel it is only right to take what I see as equal compensation for that.”  He aimed his gun at Ted’s chest and said with a chuckle, “Be glad I’m giving you a chance to keep her.”

Ted’s heart skipped a beat as fear squeezed its icy claws around him.  He looked up at the sky, where the flashes grew increasingly faster, then to the gun in Liam’s hand, and finally at the man himself.  His neighbor looked like a power lifter not a runner, so a race against him might be a quick win.  Then again, with the memory of his dreams and how distracted the storm was making him, he might trip and lose.  Not racing wasn’t an option because he would be shot and have his wife taken anyway.  With eyes cast to the ground, Ted said, “Fine.  I’ll race you, but not tonight.  This storm is going to be too dangerous and will be a major distraction for me.  Can we do this next Saturday, perhaps?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to disagree with you a wee bit, fella.  You see, as long as I hold this,” he said while gesturing with the gun, “I get full say in everything.  I pick the time and the location, and I say today is the day.”

“So, what, you’ll shoot me if I don’t agree?”

Liam’s smile grew wider as he said, “But of course, Teddy m’boy.  And if that happens, poor Karen is left to do everything I ask.  And I do mean… everything.”  He closed his eyes and licked his lips before adding, “In fact, she’s waiting for me at home as we speak.”  Ted tried rushing his neighbor while his eyes were closed, but stopped after two steps when the gun’s aim shifted to his head.  “Now, now, we’ll have none of that.  Are you upset because I secured the kitty before offering my little wager?  You must think me daft not to do otherwise.  I locked her in my home the moment she came to tell me about your misdeed.”

Feeling powerless, Ted lifted his head to watch the electricity dance across the sky.  His instincts told him to run and find shelter, but that left Karen at the mercy of this lunatic.  It didn’t matter if he got shot in the process or not, she would still suffer for his actions.  “All I wanted to do was watch a game without constantly turning the volume up,” he thought and closed his eyes.  With tears streaming down his cheeks Ted said, “Fine,” and lowered his head.  He opened his eyes and, with an air of defiance, asked, “Do we race here, or did you have someplace else in mind?”

With a jerk of his hand, Liam motioned for Ted to walk to the end of the block.  As they neared the corner, Ted saw a pick-up truck with an orange number four surrounded by bright flames on the hood.  Liam’s riding lawn mower sat securely strapped to a trailer behind the truck, its green number four glared at him from the circle of flames surrounding it.  The passenger door opened and Liam motioned for Ted to climb in.  From there he watched the crazy Irishman round the front of the pickup and climb into the driver’s seat, the red dot from the gun’s laser scope never leaving him for more than half of a second.

They drove without speaking to each other for over an hour in the same direction the storm travelled until they were well ahead of it.  Ted hoped the storm took its time in arriving at their destination just so he would have one less worry.  ‘The rest of the time spent away from his phobia allowed him to focus more on winning the race, saving his wife, and not getting killed in the process.  He chanced glances at his captor every so often, hoping for some kind of an opening.  Liam, however, kept his gun pointed at Ted with his left hand while steering with his right, occasionally sneaking peeks just to remind him that his attention wasn’t only on the road.  The silence in the cab was finally broken when Liam said, “We’re here,” and pulled the truck to a smooth stop.

Ted stared at their destination in shock.  He closed his eyes and wished he was wrong, that they were actually someplace else, but the grassy meadow from his dreams waved back at him in the wind when they re-opened.  A rumble of thunder in the distance helped complete the scene.  “How is this possible?” he thought.  “Were they some kind of premonitions warning me about this?”  He reached his left hand over to his right to pinch himself, but the cold touch of the gun as it pressed against his temple was convincing enough that this wasn’t a dream.

“Get out and unload the mower,” Liam said with a savage smile and forceful nudge of the gun.  Once it was lined up where he wanted it, he said, “The rules are simple.  The first to the forest wins.  Since you look the running type and I clearly don’t, you’ll be racing against me and my machine.”  He gestured to the mower with his empty hand, prompting a protest from Ted, but a quick movement with the gun silenced it before it left his lips.  “Just to be fair, this field is a half mile from where my racer is to the trees, so I’ll give you a head start of a quarter of the distance.  I’d also promise to not shoot you, but somehow I don’t think you’ll believe me.”

Liam’s gaze shifted from Ted to something off in the distance behind him.  When he looked back, he had a maniacal glint in his eyes and said, “Race time!”  He mounted his mechanical steed and gestured for Ted to come stand next to him.  “On your mark!” Liam shouted and Ted turned his focus to the forest, “Get set!”   Both men leaned forward, ready to take off.  “Go!”

Ted jumped off the line in a dead sprint hoping to grab a sizeable lead before slowing his pace to conserve strength and energy.  Both would be needed to stay ahead of Liam and for the big burst of speed he needed at the end.  It wasn’t long before the loud roar of the modified lawn mower echoed through the meadow as it left the starting line.  The fear from hearing the machine’s growl growing louder sooner than expected gave him a very much needed boost of energy.  The muscles in his legs pumped harder as he neared the trees and for the first time knew he was going to win.

Ted was feet away from the nearest tree when he felt something hard strike his back, followed by a massive jolt of electricity that coursed through his body.  He fell to the ground in a heap, his dreams once again running through his mind.  Refusing to give up when he was so close, Ted tried pushing himself to get up by picturing Karen wearing black and crying for him while Liam stood fondling her, but found himself still convulsing on the ground.  Liam stopped his mower within easy sight of where Ted’s head lay, the strange gun in his hand and pointing at his chest.  He was forced the words, “You cheated!” out before the gun fired again and another jolt of electricity entered his body.

A satisfied grin stretched across Liam’s face as he looked down at his neighbor and said, “You have to love these new taser guns.  No wires to get tangled up.”  He tossed the taser gun to the side, leaned closer to Ted, and said, “I never promised I wouldn’t shoot you or that I would play fair.”  Ted watched as Liam repositioned the lawn mower so that the front wheels were pointed at his feet.  He thought he heard a growl of satisfaction from the mower as Liam shifted it into gear.

Podcast Spotlight – Masters of Macabre

Hello ladies and gentlemen.  It has been a short while since I last posted, and for this I do apologize.  I do not wish a divorce on anyone, but I know that it will be for the best and I’ll arise from it as a stronger person.  Please rest assured that I will do all that I can to offer you content every week and I thank those of you reading this for the first time for your visit and hope to see you become a repeat customer.  For those of you regulars to the blog, thank you for sticking around and I hope you continue to enjoy all of my offerings to you.  Now, without further ado…

Welcome to the Casa!  I hope you enjoy today’s special offering as it is an annual event that I, personally, look forward to.  Of course, I’m speaking of the Masters of Macabre writing contest hosted by HorrorAddicts.net.  In its third year, the Masters contest is hosted by last year’s winner, Philip ‘Norvaljoe’ Carroll,and open to any male author, published or not.   The idea behind the contest is to write a short horror story that embraces a theme and includes some extra “ingredients”.  The fans then listen to the stories and vote for their favorite.  The winner will be crowned the 2013 Master of Macabre and will inherit hosting duties for next year’s contest.

Philip’s choice for this year’s theme is an oldie, but a goody…. haunted houses.  All participants are assigned a particular location, paranormal pest, and an item that relates to said pest.  It is then our task to weave a story that encompasses them together into a truly scary story.  Piece of cake you say?  The story length is limited to what can be recorded within a ten minute time frame.  If you want to enter, but the idea of recording the story frightens you, let Philip know and he may be able to help.  I am also available to help with recording if you need it as well.

This contest is a favorite of mine because of the story ideas that spawn, and not just the ones I entered into the contest.  At least two or three stories and ideas have emerged each year, with many more to come I am sure.  It also gives me the additional benefit of competing against other writers and breaking through the initial hurdle and fear of any first time author… having an audience of people listen and/or read your story. Even if you’ve never written a scary story before, there is a first time for everything.

For more details on the contest, including the deadlines and contact information for entering, check out the Masters of Macabre website.  If you are a woman and want to take a stab at a similar writing contest, HorrorAddicts.net has you covered as well with the Wicked Women Writer’s contest (see earlier article).  Hope to see you competing against me and any other returning competitors.  Also, help to spread the word, the more competitors in either contest the better for the writers and the fans.

As always, if you want to leave a comment, please do so below.  Let me know your opinion  and feel free to share mine with your friends, family, and yes, even your enemies.  I’m on FacebookTwitterGoogle +, and via e-mail at dpitsiladis@gmail.com.

And remember… Why so serious?

Donald P.

Book Review – “Alice in Deadland” by Mainak Dhar

Alice in Deadland

Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Casa.  Today is Friday and it’s time for the weekly book review.  Today I take a look at a genre mix between a classic children’s tale and zombies — “Alice in Deadland” by Mainak Dhar.

Alice is a girl raised in a world where zombies and humans have long been warring with each other.  Instead of a formal education, she learns how to protect the living and become a crack shot with a sniper rifle.  One day, while out waiting to ambush any zombies who got too close to their settlement, she targets a zombie wearing pink bunny ears and is surprised when he drops out of sight.   As in the classic tale ”Alice in Wonderland”, Alice follows the zombie down a hole and into what she discovers are the ruins of the United States Embassy in New Dehli.  It is there that she meets the Queen of the Biters, an intelligent zombie and leader of the walking dead.  It is from that meeting that she learns that everything known about The Rising is not as true as everyone believes.

I found the story idea fundamentally good and had a hard time putting the book down for long.  I thought it was an interesting take on the classic children’s tale.  As much as I liked the story, there were some flaws in the execution that at times did have me think about putting the book down voluntarily.  There were some scenes that worked well, but others I felt could be either removed  or tightened up more .  The flow between the three acts was also not very smooth.  This book could easily have stretched out over three books with each act being its own part of a larger story.  My rating for this book is a 3 out of 5.

You can find this story at your local book store, Amazon (paperback Kindle), or Barnes and Noble (paperback ).

As always, if you want to leave a comment, please do so below.  Let me know your opinion  and feel free to share mine with your friends, family, and yes, even your enemies.  I’m on FacebookTwitterGoogle +, and via e-mail at dpitsiladis@gmail.com.

And always remember… Why so serious?

Donald P.

Podcast Spotlight – Wicked Women Writers

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Hello ladies and gentlemen!  Welcome to the Casa!  This week I thought I’d focus on an annual contest for women writers offered by the great people at Horror Addicts.net – The Wicked Women Writers Contest.

The contest, which started in 2009, offers the challenge of writing a short horror story incorporating certain elements and in a specified time frame.  The prize is being labeled as that year’s Most Wicked and the opportunity to host the following year’s contest.  Past winners include H.E. Roulo (2009), Rhonda R. Carpenter (2010), Laurel Anne Hill (2011), and this year’s contest host Killion Slade (2012).

The theme for this year is “How Will You Survive?”  Each entrant must construct a 10 minute story (recorded by the author or another person) using randomly assigned items in the following categories:  1)Location, 2)Disaster, 3)Item/Tool, 4)Caveat Disability.  If you feel up to the challenge and think you can win this year’s Most Wicked, send your name , headshot, and short bio (under 50 words) to wwwchallenge2013@gmail.com.  Deadline for entry is June 20, 2013, but the sooner you enter, the more time you have to write a great story.

To listen to entries from earlier years or for more details on the contest, check out the Wicked Women Writers website.

As always, if you want to leave a comment, please do so below.  Let me know your opinion  and feel free to share mine with your friends, family, and yes, even your enemies.  I’m on FacebookTwitterGoogle +, and via e-mail at dpitsiladis@gmail.com.

And always remember… Why so serious?

Donald P.