THE RISING SON by James Glass

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excerpt from

WRAPPED IN BLACK

Thirteen Tales of Witches and the Occult

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THE RISING SON
by James Glass

Crowley was a prick. Virgil Calahan, Jr. came to the conclusion as he watched the man move through the crowd, how everyone smiled and laughed at the poorly told jokes only because no one wanted to seem stupid to a foreigner. Moreover, he seethed at the way Cherry clung to the man’s arm in spite of the insipid, resinous cloud of scented oils permeating the air around him.
He knew he had no claim to the gorgeous redhead, they adhered to the tenets of polyamory, but to see her showering another man with affection – Crowley of all the people! It was too much. He slammed his drink glass on the bar top harder than was necessary and pretended it was Crowley’s face.
The bartender’s smile was tight as he silently refilled the empty glass and disappeared into the shadows once more. Calahan clutched the drink to his chest, his eyes narrowed to slits as he continued to watch the man he now thought of as his own personal arch-nemesis.
“Chin up, old boy, she will be back.”
Calahan turned to see his father, one Virgil Calahan Senior, lounging against the bar. The old man also watched Cherry, the lustful expression not one his son had seen on his father’s usually bland but cheerful visage.
“But once a man has spent a night with the likes of her, one cannot return to any semblance of normal.” At his son’s sharp intake of breath he added, “Oh come now, old man, you can’t mean to tell me you had no idea we’ve all had a taste of Cherry?”
“When?!”
“The night after your birthday. She was very… accommodating.”
Calahan the son glared into his whiskey and said nothing, but he could feel his cheeks becoming red with fury. If it had been anyone but his father who spoke those words, the man would be nursing a black eye and possibly a broken jaw at that very moment. He cleared his throat and downed the rest of the amber liquid, then slammed the glass again on the bar top, this time hard enough to send a shard of glass flying into the space between himself and the gathering of revelers.
His father placed a hand over his. “Son, it was nothing personal, merely a good time.”
At Calahan’s continued silence, the older man studied his son’s face. Sudden realization dawned in his piercing blue eyes.
“Good heavens, boy, you can’t have fallen in love with her!”
Calahan pulled away from his father’s touch. “Well what if I had? What good does it do me now, knowing she’s been with everyone I know?”
“Cal,” his father’s voice was gentle, “She is a whore.”
Calahan rolled his eyes, his voice choked by sarcasm. “No kidding?”
“What I mean to say is she is a prostitute. We bought her for you for your birthday.” His father’s expression was filled with pity, and he patted Calahan’s arm, frowning. “I’m sorry, son. We thought you knew.”
With that, the old man wandered off into the crowd and Calahan stared after his father, disgust mingling with hate and whiskey in his churning gut. As Crowley’s accent carried over the crowd he gritted his teeth and stormed out onto the balcony of the lushly appointed hotel. He caught Cherry’s eye as he passed by her, and a small frown curled the corners of her perfectly drawn red lips.
The combination of being away from the party-goers and the chill of the night air cleared his anger only slightly, and he glared over the railing of the balcony into the glittering few electric lights mingling with gaslight below. He heard the latch of the French doors click behind him and he sighed, expecting Cherry to approach him with excuses. Instead his brother touched his shoulder.
The angry words meant for Cherry died on Calahan’s lips at the sight of his sibling. The younger man seemed upset by something, and the signs of laudanum addiction colored his pale features. This was a new addition to a chaotic repertoire of drug use.
“Billy?” Calahan said in way of greeting.
“Cal.” His brother stared over the railing with fever eyes and pulled at his clothes as if they didn’t fit quite right.
“Are you feeling,” Calahan paused, unable to say the word he had intended ‘anything’, instead substituting, “unwell?”
“You can say that, I suppose.” He spun to face Calahan and his elder brother stepped back as if physically assaulted by the mania creeping into his voice.
“I think you’ve had too much to drink,” Calahan said, voice quiet so as not to upset the delicate balance of his brother’s mood. On a typical day the young man’s behavior was erratic, partly due to his mental state and partly as a result of his self-medication.
Billy laughed and shook his head. “The problem is, Cal, I have not yet had enough to drink!” He stared at the lights below for a moment, his voice dreamy when he at last asked, “Have you spoken with Crowley yet?”

Read the entire story in

WRAPPED IN BLACK: Thirteen Tales of Witches and the Occult

RELEASE DATE: October 18, 2014


james glassJames Glass enjoys his privacy, but frequently finds that he plays an unwilling host to Xircon. When not visiting red light districts of red light cities, he can frequently be found contemplating life in the seediest of libraries.

Find James Glass on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JamesRGlassII and HERE

 

Coming Soon! WRAPPED IN WHITE: Thirteen Tales of Spectres, Ghosts, and Spirits

Allison M. Dickson, Bryan W. Alaspa, Ghosts, horror, James Glass, Michael G. Williams, NEWS, Patrick C. Greene, Sekhmet Press LLC, Solomon Archer PhD, Suzi M, Wrapped In White
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COMING MARCH 25, 2014

from the creators of  WRAPPED IN RED

WRAPPED IN WHITE

Thirteen Tales of Spectres, Ghosts, and Spirits

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Books, Babes, and the Business: Jaime Johnesee

Celebrating Women in Fiction

blog header cwifJaime Johnesee

Please tell us a little bit about yourself… (would you describe yourself primarily as a writer, publisher, editor, artist, radio talk show host…)

JJ: I’m an author who was a zookeeper and has the luck of a cursed zombie accidentally shambling into a necrophiliac convention.

Do you focus on a specific genre with your work?

JJ: Nope. I don’t think I could limit my muse if I wanted to, she has some brilliant ideas.

Do you/Would you ever write under a male pseudonym? Why or why not?

JJ: Nope. I never really thought about it. I guess just because I am who I am and if someone doesn’t like my work just because of my uterus… well, then I wouldn’t want them to have it anyway.

Name a few of your favorite books/authors you’ve read recently:

JJ: Bill Naylor’s The Misadventures of a Zoo Keeper is one that was absolutely brilliant. It’s the best zoo keeper memoir I’ve read yet, and I’ve read a lot of them. As for horror, you can’t beat Strings by Allison M Dickson and Ricky Cooper’s Designated: Infected was extremely well done. I also loved The Murdered Metatron by James Glass and Colt Coltrane: The Lotus Killer by Allison M. Dickson. Laurie Ricard’s Rowan’s End is one I am reading now. Of course you can’t go wrong with anything by Lori R Lopez or Leigh M Lane.

Who has been the most influential female in your personal life and how have they shaped your work?

JJ: Honestly it has to be Lisa Lane who writes horror as Leigh M Lane. She read my novella Shifters and messaged me that she loved it but it needed a lot of editing. She said she didn’t want to review it until I had a chance to clean it up. She’s been a godsend ever since teaching me grammar and helping me clean my work.

If you could give your younger self one piece of advice relating to the business what would it be?

JJ: Don’t ever even think of giving up. You are good enough and you will make it. I’d also tell me to have more confidence in myself. (People didn’t start taking me seriously until I started realizing I am good at this and I’m only going to get better.)

Do you have a current project or upcoming project you would like to tell us about?

JJ: Well I am working on rewrites for a novel called Holly Andrews. I’m really excited about this one as it does contain my favorite zombie, Bob.

Where can we find you?

bob cover jjhttp://www.amazon.com/Jaime-Johnesee/e/B007P5CLDW/

http://www.JaimeJohnesee.com

http://www.facebook.com/authorJaimeJohnesee

*****

jj picJaime Johnesee worked as a zookeeper for fourteen years before deciding to focus on her passion of writing. Her decision has proven to be a good one, as her books have been received with critical acclaim. Although her initial foray into the literary world has been marked by success, Jaime has just begun and is a force to be reckoned with in the years to come.

Books, Babes, and the Business: Jen Greene

Celebrating Women in Fiction, James Glass, Sekhmet Press LLC

blog header cwifJennifer L. Greene

Please tell us a little bit about yourself…

A little about myself… Well, I own Sekhmet Press LLC, what I like to call a micro-press publisher. I started out working as editor and publicist for my husband, Patrick C. Greene when his novel PROGENY was published by Hobbes End Publishing in 2012. This led me to publishing a few of his short stories… which led me to the idea of an anthology… and here we are.

Do you focus on a specific genre with your work?

We tend to focus on the weird, absurd, dark and surreal. Our first anthology was a collection of Vampire stories and the next collection is about Ghosts. There will be another anthology in the Fall, but the specifics on that are under wraps for now.

Name a few of your favorite books/authors you’ve read recently:

Lately I’ve been in love with the Discovery of Witches series by Deborah Harkness, and pretty much anything written by Allison M. Dickson. I’ve just discovered horror author Cecilia Dockins, and romance novelist Shewanda Pugh, both of whom show some real talent and I look forward to reading more from those ladies. And then of course, one of the most fun things I’ve read lately are The Metatron Mysteries by James Glass.

Who has been the most influential female in your personal life and how have they shaped your work?

No doubt, my Mother. She is the most influential woman in every area of my life. But, I think I also have to give props to two women from my middle-school days: my English teacher, Ms. McGee, and fellow student, Jan Thrasher. Both of them were pure inspiration to me.

If you could give your younger self one piece of advice relating to the business what would it be?

Don’t doubt yourself and always do your best. Even when you feel like your journey is leading nowhere, it’s all adding up to something. Something good.

Do you have a current project or upcoming project you would like to tell us about?

Absolutely! This weekend we just released the highly anticipated follow up in The Metatron Mysteries series, THE DISPOSSESSED by James Glass. The reviews are blowing my mind. Every time a good review comes in my heart just explodes with joy and gratitude. Also on my agenda right now is the follow up to Wrapped In Red, WRAPPED IN WHITE: Thirteen Tales of Spectres, Ghosts, and Spirits. That anthology will release in March, and I’m definitely excited to send that baby out into the world. Great stories. I really hope everyone enjoys them as much as I do.

Where can we find you?

Here is our on-line store: http://www.tinyurl.com/ShopSekhmetPress

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jen 2013Jennifer began writing in middle school, and fell in love with the theater in high school. In college she studied Psychology and Journalism, then worked for over a decade in prestige cosmetics management, where she gained retail and marketing experience to add to her love of words and the arts. Acting as office manager, publicist, editor, and publisher at Sekhmet Press LLC, Ms. Greene also juggles managing her husband’s writing career, and raising an almost teenage boy. Sanity is not her strong suit, but she has a passion for the arts and artists; and truly believes “Books are a uniquely portable magic.” (S.K.) She also has a tendency toward cats and coffee.

Books, Babes, and the Business: Suzi M

Celebrating Women in Fiction, Metatron, Suzi M, Wrapped Authors, Wrapped In Red, Wrapped In White

blog header cwifSuzi M

Please tell us a little bit about yourself…

Primarily a writer, though I also am an artist among other things.

Do you focus on a specific genre with your work?

While I got my start in horror I’ve since branched out into mystery/dark comedy and post-apocalyptic fiction. I don’t really limit myself as far as genre goes, it’s whatever happens upon the page.

Do you/Would you ever write under a male pseudonym? Why or why not?

I have and I do, so yes. I do it because as sad as it is in this day and age, people seem to be more receptive to a book written by a man versus a book with a woman’s name in the author space.

Name a few of your favorite books/authors you’ve read recently:

Jaime Johnesee’s Bob the Zombie series is wonderfully entertaining. I’ve also been reading Allison M. Dickson and Chantal Noordeloos.

Who has been the most influential female in your personal life and how have they shaped your work?

Easy answer: my mother. She started my love of horror, she encouraged me to keep writing when I had given up, and she believed in me always. When I began writing under pseudonyms she never even batted an eye, and she was and always will be my number one fan. While writing she was my sounding board and critic.

If you could give your younger self one piece of advice relating to the business what would it be?

Relax and keep writing. Don’t give up and never settle.

Do you have a current project or upcoming project you would like to tell us about?

The Dispossessed High Rez Cover-001The release of The Dispossessed is nigh, and is the second book in the Metatron Mysteries. I’m also working on the third installment, writing the series under the name James Glass.

Where can we find you?

Suzi M on Facebook: 

Suzi M on Amazon: 

James Glass on Facebook: 

James Glass on Amazon: 

suzi m titled***

THE DISPOSSESSED by James Glass

James Glass, Metatron, New Release, Suzi M

Available February 15, 2014

THE DISPOSSESSED

by James Glass

Book 2 of The Metatron Mysteries

Playing host to the Voice of God can be a strain,

and as John Smith is discovering, the source of many hangovers.

Add to that a missing demon, and it’s one hell of a week.

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The Dispossessed Cover Reveal #METATRON

James Glass, Sekhmet Press LLC, Suzi M

Congratulations to James Glass

and a big thank you to Norot – the Mythic Art and Vision of Robert Cook.

The cover is gorgeous!

Cant wait to hold the paperback in my hands!!

COMING February 15, 2014

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The Voice of God is Dead…

James Glass, New Release, Sekhmet Press LLC, Suzi M

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BUY IT TODAY!

Amazon Paperback

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THE MURDERED METATRON

Book 1

of

THE METATRON MYSTERIES

By James Glass

Prologue

 

John Smith looked at his silent phone and tried to scratch his back. It had always itched for as long as he could remember – which was not a particularly long time – and his extensive collection of back-scratchers were no help. He’d spent hundreds of dollars he didn’t have on massage sessions asking only that the masseuse scratch him as hard as they could. Sometimes with a fork.

He took out the serrated knife tied securely to a stick and began to run the teeth over his reddened flesh. He had been to countless dermatologists and doctors. The conclusion was always the same; it must be a result of the accident that had left him in a coma for two weeks. After the coma he woke with no memory of who he was, no one to claim him, and two long scars running the length of either side of his back. They itched like hell, dammit.

As a means of becoming a productive member of society, John Smith managed to get his private investigator’s license to support himself. That is, after the initial awakening and subsequent lack of family interest following hundreds of media ads with his picture and description spread around Gettysburg, Pennsylvania and the surrounding cities of Baltimore, Harrisburg, York, Pittsburgh, and Philadelphia.

The first were likely pity cases, a small town trying to help the underdog. Gradually those cases dried up and the money put into savings for a rainy day was now being eaten up paying the rent, electricity, and phone for his office space. An office space he recently began using as an apartment, since the hospital told him it was time to leave the nest.

He glanced at the phone one more time then turned to the stack of newspapers that outlined his accident. It was referred to as an ‘accident’ because he had come out of his coma with no memory and thus no way to confirm or deny the suspicion he saw in everyone’s eyes. The details and those looks told him he had tried to commit suicide by jumping off a bridge and into a river.

The devil was in the details, as always. The only snag in his theory was that there had been no note, and the bridge wasn’t very high — certainly not high enough to kill a man from the jump alone, and the rocks beneath the surface of the water had only left the two long scars down his back as a souvenir.

He scratched at the scars again as he read the specifics one more time, cross-referencing with his notes. “Unidentified Man Falls from Bridge” and “Man Who Fell from Bridge Still in Coma”. Not much coverage, he thought bleakly, but then if his life had been worthless to him at one point, how could he expect more from the media?

With a growl he threw the papers into the trash and stared up at the ceiling. He prayed someone would hire him soon.

*

Pazuzu was tired…. He glanced up briefly from his ponderings as a man exited the shadows of the doorway across the street and splashed through puddles of streetlight.

“That is the one,” Pazuzu’s companion hissed.

With a sigh Pazuzu snuffed out his cigarette in the palm of his hand. He had hoped they would be able to lurk a bit longer. Opportunities for outings were few and far between back home.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am sure. He wears an overcoat.”

“Very well,” Pazuzu said.

He pushed away from the cool concrete of the building they had chosen several hours before, the perfect lurking spot, and a charred outline was left in his wake. The smoke emanating from the outline smelled of fire and sulfur.

Pazuzu had his doubts about his companion’s positive identification of their target based on the man’s attire, but remained quiet. He had not been topside for many years, and who was he to argue that the man might not, in fact, wear an overcoat? They had watched all the movies from Hollywood, and in the movies the detectives all wore overcoats.

They’d followed the man in the overcoat for several blocks when Marduk stumbled over a large bit of trash and the man stiffened. When he turned to face them, Pazuzu flashed a menacing grin.  With a cry of terror the man pulled a glinting metal object from beneath his overcoat and pointed it at them.

Pazuzu paused with a feeling that was more instinct than foreknowledge gripping his insides. His companion was less cautious. Pazuzu had learned during the Inquisition that humans were bold when they had a weapon, and from the way the man stood he knew the metal object had to be a weapon.

There was a loud bang and flash from the object and Pazuzu’s companion flinched backward, clutching at his chest where a heart might have beaten.

“Hellfire and brimstone that hurts!”

The human unleashed the weapon again, this time at Pazuzu. He sidestepped the projectile and shook his head at the man in disapproval.  When the man ran he turned his attention back to his companion who was writhing on the ground. “Are you hurt, Marduk?”

His companion glared up at him, silver blood glinting over now carnivorous teeth. “Of course I’m hurt! What was that thing?” he snarled as he climbed to his feet.

Pazuzu shrugged. “I am unsure. Possibly one of those guns we viewed in the films? Luckily it was a small one.”

“Small? I assure you, the pain is not small.”

Again, Pazuzu shrugged. “You must be more careful when dealing with humans,” he said, “They may seem incapable of harming us, but they are dangerous to both themselves and to us.”

“Lesson learned,” Marduk hissed and wiped silvery blood from the front of his shirt. “Damn it, I liked this shirt,” he said with an angry pout.

Pazuzu shook his head and removed a soft pack of cigarettes, tapping one from the open portion of the pack and inserting it between his thin lips. He flicked the long fingernails of his right hand together and flames sprang up to meet the tip of the cigarette. He inhaled deeply and stared in fascination at the plumes of exhaled smoke.

“How long has it been since you were last topside?” Marduk asked him.

Pazuzu squinted up at the night sky, considering the question. He took another drag on his cigarette, exhaled, and responded, “A century or more? I don’t know. Time is meaningless.”

“So how did you know to avoid the weapon?”

The demon smiled and his wings twitched beneath his shirt.

“When a human aims something at one’s person, one can safely assume it is a weapon. One should therefore make haste to avoid having it pointed at oneself.”

“Good advice,” Marduk said as he lit his own cigarette. He gave a cough of anger as smoke swirled out of the hole in his back and chest where the bullet had pierced him.

“Damnation,” he muttered, “When we catch that little prick I’m going to kill him.”

“I believe we need to remember our mission, Marduk. And I do not think that was our man.”

CHAPTER I

John Smith was not a run-of-the-mill P.I. At least he didn’t think so. His exaggerated opinion of himself had not, however, been paying the bills since he woke from his coma, and the ad that told the masses how good he was had only helped to get the electricity turned off in the end. Luckily he kept office hours during the afternoon and his office had a southern exposure, so lighting was not a problem… but coffee was.

He glanced up from the magazine on his desk. The one he kept in his desk drawer for occasions when he wanted to appear busy – in case a client walked in, he told himself. The phone on his desk rang a second time and it took a moment longer for the sound to register in his brain. On the third ring he picked it up and held it to his ear.

“Mr. Smith?” the voice on the other end sounded tinny and far away.

“Yes.”

“John Smith?”

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METATRON Virtual Release Party

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Anthology Submissions – Wrapped In White

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Sekhmet Press LLC is pleased to announce our next anthology in the successful WRAPPED series!

COMING MARCH 2014

WRAPPED IN WHITE

Thirteen Tales of Spectres, Ghosts, and Spirits

Here is your chance to be a WRAPPED contributor!
We are very excited to have several up-and-coming authors featured in this anthology and we look forward to filling the other available slots through open-call submissions. You may submit your story as an attachment to sekhmetpress@gmail.com between December 26, 2013 and January 10, 2014. Remaining contributors will be announced by February 2. Expected release date for Wrapped in White is March 2014.
Original stories only please. No reprints.
Any submissions or inquiries sent anywhere other than sekhmetpress@gmail.com  will be deleted. Submissions received before or after open call dates will be deleted.
Stories should range from 4,000 to 6,000 words.
In your email, make sure to include your full name, the title of the work you are submitting, and a word count.
A short Bio will be requested upon acceptance of story.
Please spend time proofing and editing your submissions before sending them. Submissions with incorrect grammar, misspellings or formatting will be automatically excluded from the review process. Those submissions that are accepted must be open to receiving minor editorial corrections.
If your story is chosen, payment includes $25 within 30 days of acceptance/signed contract and one print copy of WRAPPED IN WHITE within 90 days of publication. Publisher will retain first worldwide publication rights for one year from publication date.
Good luck

Submission Guidelines:

TITLE
Author Name
Word count
e-mail address

12pt Garamond or equivalent

Single Spaced

Do not use TAB key. New paragraphs should be formatted with a 0.3 indent.

Do not use symbols such as # or * between sections. A single blank space is sufficient.

Now go write a ghost story!