I'll come up with something in a minute.

Twins in Death: Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen




November 3rd, 2002

3:21 p.m.


            The room was so dark that very little detail could be made out, beyond the cones of hard light. They stood in a circle, like a council of war. They wore robes of purple material with red trimmings. The hoods of each robe were drawn up, concealing every aspect of the wearer. They had to meet in this way, to maintain the secrecy under which they had operated so long.


            “Is he the one?” One of them asked.


            “He defeated Loki.” Another, a large one in a felt robe, said. “And he came back from the dead.”


            “That was part of it.” A thin small figure in a silk robe said. “So far all signs point to him being the knight.”


            “So he may very well be it?” The figure who seemed to be the leader said.


            “I think so.”


            “He’s been in hiding so long though.” Another said. “The knight is supposed to be in constant vigilance.”


            “He was given a terrible blow.” The leader said. “He may very well remain hidden until we draw him out.”


            “But the prophecy.” The arguer said.


            “Prophets don’t know everything.” The Leader said, “We will watch and if he is the one, we will draw him out. It will take months perhaps to decide.”


            “If he is the one, are we ready?”


            “We are.” The leader said. “I’ve prepared for everything.”




Final note:


            So we see that perhaps The Weirdo died and returned from the Grave, although all official documents and biographies claim he lapsed into a coma, which he rose from. There has been some conjecture as to where Loki and Virgil actually came from as well, since some reports have said they were implanted in women’s wombs and some say they were grown in vats. It must be said that as far as official records go, it is very hard to find confirmation or even denial of the claims in this book. We can only hope that further tomes will shed light onto the tale.



© 2013 Autumn Knight Productions

November 14, 2013 Posted by | Fiction | , | Leave a comment

Off Set


November 14, 2013 Posted by | Photo, Photography | , | Leave a comment

I have a book to suggest…

I have been told that a book called Erotic Vampire Bank Heist exists.

HOLY SHIT! What more do you need?

From the Publisher…
“When a sensuous safecracker and the King of the Vampires begin a torrid love affair in 1974, nothing can stand in their way: not the nationwide crime syndicate, not the Vampire Mafia… not even the rampaging forces of nature itself!
With a ragtag team of stuntmen, conmen, lesbians, and bisexual swingers, Count Dracula and Emily Malone are going to take what they need from the vaults of Bullitsville, Kentucky… and they’re not going to stop until their sexy desires are met! But between the gunfights and threesomes, the shootouts and the incest, the secret needs of a centuries-old conspiracy is growing…and when its shocking betrayal is enacted, neither the living nor the Undead can survive its onslaught!
Airport Books is proud to bring you E.J. Ehlers’ Erotic Vampire Bank Heist in all its uncut glory. It’s like Dracula by Sam Peckinpah and Anais Nin! Varney The Vampire by Jim Thompson and Erica Jong! And it’s like nothing you’ve ever read before!
Erotic Vampire Bank Heist: Because the only thing a vampire hates more than a cross…is a double cross.”

This sort of horseshit MUST be encouraged!

November 12, 2013 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

V on the Bookshelf


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November 6, 2013 Posted by | Photo, Photography | , | 1 Comment

Twins in Death: Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

A Force of Nature


At Home


            The Grandfather looked at the poor sick boy and asked if he needed anything besides the orange juice. The boy said he didn’t, he wanted to know what came next. This story had been so long, and he wanted to know how it ended now that he was so near the end. Grandpa had held the moment out too. Giving him all that talk about alternate realities and hanging forever on the possibility that this was the reality where The Weirdo got his head cut off.


            There were tissues near the bedside, and the boy’s cough drops were in good supply. The grandfather looked at the closed door, knowing no one was going to interrupt. He looked at the book with trepidation, his eyes moving across the page and then up at the child’s open and wondering face.


            It didn’t look good, when we last left our hero the katana was one and ¼ inch from his neck, moving faster than the speed of sound. The Weirdo, and we must be realistic here, was already dead. There wasn’t much that could be done at this point to save him. Now that’s a sad idea, but it’s a fact that people like The Weirdo don’t get to live to the ending. Those who live by the sword and all that.


            “So what happened?” The boy asked.


            “You sure you’re feeling well enough for this?” The old man asked, looking a little disturbed as he looked at the book. “I mean things don’t always turn out the way you expect them to. Sometimes, even the hero dies.”


            “I gotta know.” The boy said. “Even if he dies, I’ve gotta know.”


            “But if he dies here, that’s it. If he’s killed here, you know that the world is over.”


            “If we don’t go on, I’ll never know. I’ve gotta know.”


            “Okay.” The old man said putting his glasses back on.  “Let’s see where were we? Ah yes.”



            The blade whistled through the air, ready to take the head form The Weirdo and…


            “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”


            “Will you tell me?” The boy screamed. “What the blistering fuck happens next?


            The blade whistled through the air, ready to take the head form The Weirdo and…






            Continue reading

November 6, 2013 Posted by | Fiction | , | Leave a comment

Little Bird

Do you know why I love this photo? Because it’s a wide shot. I think anyone else would have cropped it to make it a close up, it looks like it should be one. Instead, I left it with all the world around it. It makes the bird look smaller in my view, and as such make the pose more defiant. “I might just a little bird, but I will take on the world!” You go little bird, you get down with your bad self.


November 5, 2013 Posted by | Photo, Photography | , | Leave a comment



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