Arm Cast Podcast: Episode 27 – Kahn And Knapp


Two great guests this week on the podcast!

http://armcastpodcast.libsyn.com/

Filmmaker Steve Kahn (“Fear”) 

his IMDb

and

Author Eloise J. Knapp (“Pulse 2″)

her website

BUT WAIT… THERE’S MORE!

We have a dozen sponsors for the show now! Yep, a baker’s dozen minus one… 

Special Thank You to Our Sponsors for this episode

Jessica McHugh

Mark Tufo

Candy O’Donnell

Jaime Johnesee

Crystal Lake Publishing

Jay Wilburn

Eric A. Shelman

Robert Chazz Chute

Christine Verstraete

Jack Wallen

Ian McClellan

Kenny Soward

Arm Cast

About these ads

Guest Post: Short Scary Stories


Scary riddles and stories

Ladies and gentlemen, ever read horror stories that blow your mind with psychological elements?
You have to read it carefully to uncover the deeper meaning. The stories seem normal at first, but trust me.
None of these stories are considered “normal”. Here is one of my favourites. Please enjoy!

Weird kid

I’m not sure if my kid is special or weird. He’s got a habit of pointing at faces.
Sometimes in a picture, sometimes on the TV. But I call him a weird kid for a another reason.
A while ago, I learned that whenever he points at somebody like that, they’re going to die within a week.
I don’t understand why he never points at someone directly. The victims all seem to die naturally.
I feel as if something complicated is going on.
But I kept it to myself. What if people don’t believe me, and think I’m a liar?
Or what if other people think he’s a weird kid as well.
Today, when I turned on the TV, my son was pointing on the TV screen.
There was our president, talking about civil rights. This will be worldwide news. I wonder how he will die.

Random TV

 

 

It wouldn’t be scary if the kid predicted the president would die.
But unfortunately he wasn’t pointing at the president.
He was pointing at the TV reflection, at his mother.
The feeling and thrill at the moment you find out the meaning, is in my opinion truly marvellous.
I hope to share this excitement with all of you.

 

More at Short scary stories

Special thank to Armand Rosamilia for this short post! :)

Jack Wallen Teaser for #WinterZombie2014


jack

Cry Zombie Cry

 

Jack Wallen

chapter 3 | exit light, enter Rizzo

 

“Oh my God, turn that fucking thing off!” Joshua shouted over the Obliterator.

“What’s the matter, tough guy?” Morgan chided.

Jamal leaned forward, his head between the front seats, to address Josh and Morgan. “Tell me you have an ETA on your unit.”

“Aren’t you having fun? It’s like Camp of the Damned.” Joshua laughed at his attempted humor.

“Yeah, I’ve seen that film; it doesn’t end well—at least not for us.”

Morgan leaned over and smacked the back of Joshua’s head. “Stop being such a goofball, Josh. Tell the poor man how soon the cavalry will arrive.”

Josh laughed and glanced at his watch. “They should be here any minute.”

The distant sound of moans wafted up from the darkening sky.

“Please don’t get dark yet,” Echo whispered, as if to hide her plea. I wrapped my arms around her tiny frame and pulled her into me.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The words took me back to broken promises from the past. Susan—another young girl I’d promised to protect. That failure would eat at my heart for eternity. The only thing to be done was to finally make good on a similar promise and ensure nothing happened to Echo.

So far, so good.

“By the way, what’s the plan once we’re gassed up and on the road?” Jamal spoke softly. I loved that about him, how he always knew when to effect peace in a room—one of his many gifts.

“The plan hasn’t changed,” I started. “We hunt down and kill the Zero Day Collective and reclaim Jacob.”

Echo shuddered. “Jesus, when you put it that way it makes Jacob seem more property than prophet.”

The sentiment cut sharply. The thought that Jacob would ever be seen as a commodity to be tossed back and forth between enemy lines was insane. He was my baby, my joy, my hope for life. The idea threatened to spiral me down into emotional withdrawal. I had to change the subject before I reached critical psychological mass.

“Speaking of which,” I added, as I focused my attention back to the laptop, “I need to see if the tracker has any hits.”

It has always been rumored that technology would eventually be the ultimate demise of man. The singularity would occur and machines would take over. The tiniest fragment of my intelligence begged me to consider it possible the singularity had finally arrived—in human form. The lowest common denominator had won out and would overtake the planet with predictable stupidity and greed. Ignorance and power were the new currency.

I propped the laptop back on my lap and minimized the Obliterator application. In its place came the tracker. The application ran in the background, collecting tons of data from the network at large. Any time specific suspect words were captured, traveling across the global network of connected computers and communication satellites, a flag would be raised and the data packets logged. Once the tracker had collected enough data, I could sift through the information and begin piecing together the location of the Zero Day Collective and Jacob. It was only a matter of time before they appeared on my radar. The NSA and Sherlock Holmes had nothing on me.

As soon as the tracker window was open, Jamal peered over my shoulder, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as my eyes ripped through the information. A pattern started to develop.

Mobile unit.

Biologist.

Zero Day Collective.

Jacob.

40.0176 degrees North.

105.2797 degrees West.

“Bethany,” Jamal whispered, “that’s Boulder, Colorado. But what does it mean by “Mobile unit”?”

“Well, Jamal, I would assume it means that whoever is sending out these communications happens to be on some sort of mobile Zero Day Collective biological unit. In other words, it’s moving.”

Jamal sighed. “So getting a fixed location isn’t likely.”

I nodded.

Jamal grinned. “Yes, but…if you get a number of consecutive coordinates, you can at least predict where the unit will be at a given time. Of course, that would require knowing what type of unit and at what speed they were traveling.”

Before Jamal could continue, I silenced him with a palm to the lips.

“Joshua, how quickly can you get us to Boulder?”

Josh laughed. “At this rate it’ll take, oh, forever!”

Again, Morgan smacked Josh across the back of the head.

“I’m just fucking with you. We get back up to speed soon, and I can have you there in a day…tops.”

“B, what do you have in mind?”

Before I could answer Jamal, a soul-destroying roar ripped through the truck. The prehistoric release was followed by the shattering of glass and a pale arm reaching into the truck. Dirty, blood-soaked fingers tangled deep into Echo’s hair and yanked hard. Echo released a cry that was almost too high in pitch to hear as the arm pulled her head toward the shattered glass.

“What the hell? The Obliterator is running strong.” Josh shouted, as he gave the volume knob for the Obliterator one last turn.

“Oh my God, look at its ears,” was all Morgan needed to say.

Blood was caked around both ears. A thick, viscous liquid bubbled from the holes on the side of his head.

“The fucker cracked his skull on the cement until he went deaf,” Joshua added. “Perfect immunity to the power of the Obliterator.”

The beast gave another tug that pulled Echo’s head nearer the shattered window. Echo’s arms flailed outward to thwart the thing’s attempts at commandeering her skull.

 czc_cover

*   *   *   *   *

 

The stench of frozen rotted meat is in the air! Welcome to the Winter of Zombie Blog Tour 2014, with 10 of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of November.

 

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser… and pick up some great swag as well! Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them! #WinterZombie2014

 

https://www.facebook.com/events/1524813084430035/?ref_notif_type=plan_user_joined&source=1

 

AND so you don’t miss any of the posts in November, here’s the complete list, updated daily:

 

http://armandrosamilia.com/2014/11/01/winter-of-zombie-post-list-winterzombie2014/

 1926759_10202903482088672_4630710665427646186_n

Joe McKinney Guest Post for #WinterZombie2014


252608_4234570744087_1596455539_n

Why I Write the Dark Stuff

 Joe McKinney

 

 

In my day job, I’m a patrol supervisor for the San Antonio Police Department.  I work the west side of town.  The police officers who make the calls, who make the arrests, who keep the peace in the busiest part of the city, they work for me.  I’m the one they call when they have major crime scenes that need managing or when something just doesn’t look right.

 

What that means is that I have to see a lot of dead bodies.  And I mean a lot of them.

 

Like last week.  One of my officers called because he had a decomp (police parlance for a body that’s been rotting in place for a good long while) and he wasn’t sure if it was suicide or homicide.  So I showed up to the apartment and there was the dead guy, seated on the floor (or almost on the floor, his butt was about two inches off the carpet).  He had a noose around his neck, though you could barely see it because his skin was so bloated and gummy with rot that it had sort of oozed over the rope.

 

“So, what do you think?” the officer asked.

 

“Suicide,” I told him.

 

“But he’s sitting down.  Wouldn’t he have rolled over or something when he started to choke?  That’s like an instinct or something, isn’t it?”

 

“No,” I said.  “What you’re looking at is an act of will power.  If you want to do something bad enough, you’ll see it through.”

 

He looked from me to the body and shook his head.

 

“Besides,” I added, “look at all that medication in there in his bathroom.  Those drugs are for hepatitis and cancer.  He did this because he was hurting pretty bad.  And look up there.”  I pointed to the ceiling where our dead guy had nailed the rope to the rafter.  “He did that because he didn’t want the rope to slip off.  And look at where he chose to do this, here in the bedroom, so his relatives coming in the front door wouldn’t have to see him.  I bet if you look around here, you’ll find a note.  Probably in the other room, out of sight of the bedroom.”

 

The officer nodded.

 

We both stood there, staring at the body.  The apartment didn’t have air conditioning, and it felt like standing inside an oven, even though it was the middle of the night.  The smell was really bad.

 

The officer kind of chuckled and said, “So, Sarge, I guess this is one for your next book, huh?”

 

I offered him a bland smile.  Cops develop their gallows humor long before they learn that it’s actually a defense mechanism against the horror of confronting your own mortality, and this officer was one of the young ones.  He still had a lot to learn.

 

“Go look for the note,” I said.

 

He stiffened.  “Yes, sir.”

 

When he was gone, I found myself looking at that dead man’s face.  Suicides always get to me. Something about standing in the presence of someone so desperate to take control of their pain and their emotional devastation that they would resort to this makes me feel numb.

 

In the other room, the young officer was clumsily knocking around.  Something fell over and broke.  I almost called out to him to be careful, but held my tongue.  You see, my mind had drifted from my day job to my night job.  I was thinking about what he’d said about my next book.  So many people seem to have that opinion about horror, and about zombie fiction in particular.  To them, a book about shambling dead things eating the living must be nothing but gratuitous violence and gore.  What else could it be?

 

Well, I take exception to that.

 

I started writing because I was scared of the future.  My wife and I had just gotten married.  Then we had a daughter, and the world suddenly seemed so much more complex.  In the wink of an eye, I went from a carefree young cop—a lot like the one in the other room knocking stuff over—to a man with more responsibilities than he could count.  I had obligations and commitments coming at me from every angle.

 

I’d been writing stories for a good long while at that point, starting sometime in my early teens, but never with the intention of doing anything about them.  I would write them out on a yellow legal pad, staple the finished pages together, and leave them on the corner of my desk until the next idea came to me.

 

Never once did it occur to me to do something with what I’d written.  I just threw those stories away and forgot them.  But then came adulthood, and parenthood, and I found myself groping to put the world in order, to regain some of the control I felt I had lost.  I realized that writing could help me with that.  I realized that I could focus my anxieties and make something useful of them.

 

And so I started writing a science fiction novel.  It was a big space opera epic, and it was pure trash.  Every word of it was awful.

 

The reason?  Well, it wasn’t authentic.  It wasn’t me.

 

The real me, the kid who sat at his desk filling up yellow legal pads rather than going out bike riding with his friends, was a horror junkie.  I was crazy for the stuff.  Horror was my first literary love, and I figured, seeing as love was what drove me to return to writing, that I should write what I love. I was feeling like the world was rushing at me from every side, so I wrote a zombie story about characters who had the living dead rushing in at them from every side.  That’s when things started to click.  That’s when it all made sense.

 

But it wasn’t just that simple.  You see, I sincerely believe that fear is the most authentic, and the most useful, emotion available to the storyteller.  It is as vital as love, and indeed, gives love its profundity, for what makes love, and family, and everything we treasure so valuable but the fear that it could all go away in the blink of an eye.  For me, fear goes far beyond monsters.  It is the catalyst for my creative process, and without that creative process, I’m afraid I would wither up inside.  I’m not saying I’d end up like that suicide I just told you about if I couldn’t write anymore, nothing that melodramatic, but absence of that creative outlet would be a hole that nothing else could fill.

 

So that’s why I write the dark stuff.

 

Joe McKinney

San Antonio, Texas

September 11, 2012

Plague of the Undead

*   *   *   *   *

 1926759_10202903482088672_4630710665427646186_n

The stench of frozen rotted meat is in the air! Welcome to the Winter of Zombie Blog Tour 2014, with 10 of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of November.

 

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser… and pick up some great swag as well! Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them! #WinterZombie2014

 

https://www.facebook.com/events/1524813084430035/?ref_notif_type=plan_user_joined&source=1

 

AND so you don’t miss any of the posts in November, here’s the complete list, updated daily:

 

http://armandrosamilia.com/2014/11/01/winter-of-zombie-post-list-winterzombie2014/

 

Guest Post: Carson Buckingham


CarsonBuckingham_Photo

How Can A House Be So Scary?

Carson Buckingham

I have always been in love with the style of the grand old painted ladies of architecture—the Victorian Era.  I grew up in an 1880 Victorian and it was a real challenge to sneak in late at night without waking my mother, with all the creaking that went on when I walked.  I finally figured out that if I went up the stairs with each foot on the extreme side of the steps, I could make it without a sound.

I first saw the movie Psycho in a Victorian, while babysitting for my chemistry teacher’s two boys.  They were in bed.  An electric storm was raging outside, and there I was, sitting at the top of the house watching this movie. What can I say?  I was a moron at age 15. Believe me, I was never so happy to see my chemistry teacher in my life when they finally got home!

But what makes these houses scary?

I’m writing about Victorians because my novel, Gothic Revival, takes place in one.  Let’s start with the fact that they are so old that at least one person has probably died in each of them, and it’s easy, especially when alone at night, for your imagination to run away with you.  Every creak becomes a footstep.  Every sigh of the wind or groan of arthritic settling becomes an uneasy spirit afoot in the night.

I think another contributing element to this mystique is the fact that there are few electrical outlets in Victorians, and therefore, fewer places to plug in lamps.  The shadows from lack of bright light seem threatening, seem to be hiding something.  Most people associate shadows and dim lighting with nothing good.

The venue has everything to do with interpretation of mundane structural events, too.  For example, a poorly hung door in an ultra-modern, well-lit house might swing shut on its own, as ill-installed doors tend to do, and nothing is thought of it; but if it happens in a Victorian, the next call made is to the Ghostbusters.

Additionally, many Victorians were built on a large-ish parcel of land.  There may have been neighbors, but they weren’t right on top of each other the way they are building houses now.  A feeling of isolation, whether real or imagined, also leads to anxiety in a house from this era.

So shadows, night sounds, and a lonesome place… that’s what makes a house so scary.

CarsonBuckingham_GothicRevival_front_cover_forpublicity

Gothic Revival

Carson Buckingham

Alex and Leo Renfield are a husband and wife contractor team who’ve recently moved to the village of Woodhaven, Connecticut to escape the chaos of life in New York. Pretty close to broke, they meet Theodora Hamilton, a somewhat unsavory and odd individual, who offers them an astronomical amount of money to repaint the first floor of her family home.

But along with the huge paycheck comes a set of unsettling rules that must be followed explicitly if they are to accept the offer; one of which is they must reside on the property having no direct contact with the outside world until the job is complete.

Is Theodora Hamilton just an eccentric woman with a peculiar way of doing things, or is there a more sinister agenda that Alex and Leo are unaware of? What exactly does she have in store for this down-on-their-luck couple who have no choice but to accept the offer and the strange requirements that come along with it?

Gothic Revival can be found online at major retailers including:

Amazon:

US | UK | Canada | Australia | Germany | France | Italy | Spain | Japan | Mexico | India | Brazil

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Amazon Print

iTunes

***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Carson Buckingham knew from childhood that she wanted to be a writer, and began, at age six, by writing books of her own, hand-drawing covers, and selling them to any family member who would pay (usually a gum ball) for what she referred to as “classic literature.” When she ran out of relatives, she came to the conclusion that there was no real money to be made in self-publishing, so she studied writing and read voraciously for the next eighteen years, while simultaneously collecting enough rejection slips to re-paper her living room… twice.

When her landlord chucked her out for, in his words, “making the apartment into one hell of a downer,” she redoubled her efforts and collected four times the rejection slips in half the time, single-handedly causing the first paper shortage in U.S. history.

But she persevered, improved greatly over the years, and here we are.

Carson Buckingham has been a professional proofreader, editor, newspaper reporter, copywriter, technical writer, comedy writer, humorist, and fiction author. Besides writing, she loves to read and work in her vegetable garden. She lives in the United States in the state of Arizona.

Twitter | Facebook | Blog

***

There’s also a tour wide giveaway!

You could win 1 of 5 digital copies of Gothic Revival by Carson Buckingham!

Direct Link:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/be80de5212/

Embedded Link:

Win 1 of 5 digital copies of Gothic Revival by Carson Buckingham!

HTML Code for giveaway:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Winter of Zombie Post List #WinterZombie2014


1926759_10202903482088672_4630710665427646186_n

Here is the complete list and link to every post for the Winter of Zombie Blog Tour 2014… updated daily!

Saturday November 1st

Kickoff! 

*

Sunday November 2nd

Jack Wallen interview

Jaime Johnesee guest post

*

Monday November 3rd

Mark Tufo teaser

Shawn Chesser interview

*

Tuesday November 4th

John O’Brien guest post

Jack Wallen Interview

*

Wednesday November 5th

Jay Wilburn teaser

Bobby Adair guest post

*

Thursday November 6th

Eric A. Shelman interview

*

Friday November 7th

Joe McKinney guest post

Jay Wilburn interview

*

Saturday November 8th

Jack Wallen teaser

*

Sunday November 9th

Jaime Johnesee interview

Shawn Chesser guest post

*

Monday November 10th

John O’Brien guest post

Jay Wilburn guest post

*

Tuesday November 11th

Armand Rosamilia interview

Eric A. Shelman interview

*

Wednesday November 12th

Mark Tufo short story part 1

Bobby Adair interview

*

Thursday November 13th

Mark Tufo short story part 2

Joe McKinney interview

Armand Rosamilia guest post

*

Friday November 14th

Mark Tufo short part 3

Eric A. Shelman guest post

Jaime Johnesee interview

*

Saturday November 15th

Shawn Chesser teaser

*

Sunday November 16th

Jack Wallen guest post

*

Monday November 17th

John O’Brien interview

*

Tuesday November 18th

 Jay Wilburn teaser

Shawn Chesser interview

Joe McKinney guest post

*

Wednesday November 19th

Joe McKinney teaser

Bobby Adair guest post

*

Thursday November 20th

Jaime Johnesee teaser

*

Friday November 21st

Jay Wilburn guest post

John O’Brien teaser

Mark Tufo interview

*

Saturday November 22nd

Jay Wilburn interview

Jack Wallen guest post

*

Sunday November 23rd

Jaime Johnesee guest post

Jack Wallen teaser

*

Monday November 24th

Shawn Chesser guest post

Jaime Johnesee teaser

*

Tuesday November 25th

Bobby Adair teaser

John O’Brien interview

*

Wednesday November 26th

Jay Wilburn guest post

Eric A. Shelman guest post

*

Thursday November 27th

Happy Thanksgiving!

*

Friday November 28th

Mark Tufo interview

Armand Rosamilia interview

*

Saturday November 29th

Armand Rosamilia guest post

Eric A. Shelman teaser

*

Sunday November 30th

Jack Wallen guest post

Jaime Johnesee guest post

Winter of Zombie Blog Tour 2014 #WinterZombie2014


 1926759_10202903482088672_4630710665427646186_n

Another November means another zombie blog tour!

 

The stench of frozen rotted meat is in the air! Welcome to the Winter of Zombie Blog Tour 2014, with 10 of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of November.

 Armand Rosamilia

Mark Tufo

Joe McKinney

Bobby Adair

Eric A. Shelman

Jay Wilburn

John O’Brien

Jaime Johnesee

Jack Wallen

Shawn Chesser

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser… and pick up some great swag as well! Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them! #WinterZombie2014

 

https://www.facebook.com/events/1524813084430035/?ref_notif_type=plan_user_joined&source=1

 

AND so you don’t miss any of the posts in November, here’s the complete list, updated daily:

 

http://armandrosamilia.com/2014/11/01/winter-of-zombie-post-list-winterzombie2014/