Free eBook Fridays: December

On our next installment of Free eBook Fridays, we have a short collection of short stories, “Dollar Tales From the Morbid Museum: Flash Fiction.” I self-published this collection on June 30, 2018 as an eBook. Today only, until midnight, the eBook is available for a free download. Once a month I offer one of my eBooks for free in the hopes that those who download it will read it and write a review on either Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews are not mandatory, but an honest review will help promote my works and are greatly appreciated. Get your free copy before the promotion ends. Download Here.

The purpose of the Dollar Tales collection is to build up the anticipation for the full paperback collection The Morbid Museum. I publish a couple of stories as an eBook for a dollar and get feedback on the stories. I also have a few stories published in online magazines which are included in the paperback edition. This process has helped me outline and figure out exactly how I want to present all these stories in one collection. Not simply a collection of stories with a similar theme but a story within a story. That’s why I created the idea of the Morbid Museum.

The Morbid Museum is curated by Siris Grim who holds a fascination with death; the prevailing theme of the Morbid Museum. He acts as a kind of narrator between the exhibits and each exhibit has a number of stories. This is a nice little preview of the overall collection. The full book is available in paperback and kindle. Enjoy your free copy.

Visitors to the Morbid Museum seek the dark and twisted corners of the world. They are both terrified and intrigued by the unknown. Tales of killers, monsters, and madmen are curated by the Master of Death, Mr. Siris Grim. Mr. Grim collects the darkness that everyone attempts to hide and displays it within the corridors of his gruesome gallery. Who will be next to purchase a ticket and walk the halls of the Morbid Museum?

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Throwback Thursday Poetry: My Fate

there is a darkness growing within me
only seen by me and i
breaking through this darkness will be
sooner than you can hide

i am the moon
two faces i will show you
one you would approve
the other would not be true

stepping
on the dark side of the moon
watching
what you would do
running
you will do now
crying
i don’t know how

i have feelings of hate
family causing this state
memories of rape
fantasies of killing the saint

you have nowhere to hide
it is you
that i will find
your face i shall first break
your body thrown up on stakes

the time has come
for me to return
i’ll remain docile
until your mistake
this is my fate

Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.

Twofer Tuesday Poetry: Employment is Relative & February 13, 2016

Employment Is Relative

I discovered true happiness
When I was unemployed.
I always worried about money,
About food,
About bills,
But not much else.
It was almost freedom.

I spent my time
Bouncing between libraries,
Coffee shops,
Or quiet outdoor patios.
I would write.
I would read.
I would revise and rewrite.

Living the dream.

I always felt
Everything happened for a reason.
It was a rough patch,
This unemployment.
It lasted
Too long
For my comfort.

It was necessary – 

I had to
Live my passion,
If only for a moment.
I glimpsed at my future.
My beautiful future.
A homeless
Starving
Writer.

What a dream I have
For myself.
I’ll fill it with
Rejection letters,
Unfinished stories
And drafts,
Lists of ideas
For stories and poems,
And the thoughts
Of a lunatic mind
With no hope
Of recovery
Or redemption.

Such is the life of
A writer.

There’s never enough paper
For the whirlwind of thoughts
The mind endures.

Too many thoughts
Forgotten.
Never enough time to write them
Unless
You’re unemployed.

February 13, 2016

They told me
There was a problem
On the dancefloor.
I saw nothing.
I knew nothing.
A regular customer
Pointed at someone.
I asked to talk outside.
He said, “No!”
He argued with me.
He wanted to fight.
I asked his friends
To get him outside.
They argued with me.
If I forced him out,
This would become a brawl.
Someone got in his face.
I told them to back off.
The guy and his friends left.
I took the person who
Got in the guy’s face
To the back gate.
Their behavior was the problem.
They called me Transphobic,
And said there was a hate crime.
I told them to call the police.
The next day, they boycotted the bar.
They said I kicked them out,
But listened to the
Douchebag straight guy’s story.
They said our bar and 
The macho security
Hated trans people.
They never spoke to
Us or came back.
They don’t know
The douchebag straight guy
Tried to fight me.
He never came back.
Trans people still go to that bar.

From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.