I'll be Doing Live Streams on 28 and 29 December with HWI

Tuesday night, 28 December, at 8 PM EST, I'll be doing a live stream on the Horror Writers Ink Facebook page along with Allen Gamboa, Steven Van Patten, and Joseph Hansen. It's a chance to get to know the writers better, ask them some questions, and see that we're not deranged lunatics hunched over a computer (well, we are, nut we're lovable lunatics).

Wednesday night, 29 December, at 7 PM EST I'll be doing another love stream with Steven Kenny, Rich Restucci, and Sylvester Barzey.

You can watch by following Horror Writers Ink Facebook page or joining the Horror Writers Ink Facebook Community page. 

 

 

Merry Christmas

 

I wanted to wish all my friends a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays. May this weekend find you happy, healthy, and with the ones you love.

Five Yuletide Video Classics for the Horrordays

Merry Christmas boils and ghouls. I hope everyone is having a pleasant last week before Christmas. Chopped down your enemies and Christmas tree. Have strung up the lights and that obnoxious co-worker. Maybe dug up... err, looked up some old friends. We all need a break during these hectic days, so I'm posting my five favorite non-traditional seasonal-themed songs. I hope you enjoy. Ho Ho Horrordays. 

My favorite since I worked nuclear weapons and ballistic missile issues for the CIA.

Another little-known Christmas classic by Weird Al Yankovic.

A twist on a traditional song for the kiddies.

And just so you don't think I hate tradition, here's All Come All Ye Faithful by Twisted Sister.

 

 And Twisted Sister's accompanying classic Silver Bells.

Operation Majestic Has Been Released

Operation Majestic is now available for Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and in paperback. Pock up yours on Amazon. The hard cover edition should be published in approximately a week. 

They make great Christmas gifts.

Once Upon an Apoclaypse Is Now Available for FREE

A Guide to surviving the End of the World... and Christmas.

Welcome to the first edition of Once Upon an Apocalypse, a festive collection of stories, articles, competitions, and more by Bestselling Authors. Check out your favorite doomsday writer, meet new ones, check out their book promotions, and just hang out. We’ve got you covered with a variety of fantastical tales to keep you entertained and help you survive the silly season. Welcome to the dark side of Christmas.

Contains my holiday classic "Deck the Malls with Bowels of Holly."

 

Grab your copy today!And it's free, our Christmas gift to you.

The Release Date for Operation Majestic Is Now 12 December

GOOD NEWS! 

The release date for Operation Majestic has been advanced to this Sunday, 12 December. So all of you who pre-ordered your copy will receive it three days early. It's still available for pre-order. 

Also, the paperback and hardcover editions of the book are in process and should be available by the 15th. More than enough time to give them as Christmas gifts.

Remembering the 80th Anniversary of Pearl Harbor

Eighty years ago today, the Imperial Japanese Navy launched a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor designed to cripple the U.S. Pacific Fleet so Japanese forces could invade Southeast Asia and the Philippines with little interference. The Day of Infamy dragged the United States into the largest and deadliest war in history. Men and women served and died in places around the world they had never heard of before 7 December. For the first time, Americans witnessed the brutality humanity is capable of as they liberated POW camps in the Pacific and Buchenwald and Dachau in Europe.

That war also created the Greatest Generation, veterans lucky enough to have returned from combat who shaped this nation. These men and women helped America become a superpower and eventually defeat the second most dangerous threat to freedom around the globe. They built the American middle class and laid a foundation for our prosperity that was greater than what they had grown up with during the Great Depression. Despite the flaws in our political and economic systems today, what we have achieved in the 21st century was based on the foundation of that generation which served in World Wat II.

I was fortunate to have grown up surrounded by veterans of World War II. My Uncle Bob, who served with the Marines at Okinawa, was one of only eighteen men to walk away from the Battle of Sugar Loaf Hill. My father's best friend nearly lost his life at Bastogne. I heard endless war stories as a kid and came to admire their courage and what they endured. It's what inspired my love for history and eventually led me to join the Central Intelligence Agency. 

Sadly, three generations after World War II began, few veterans of that conflict are still alive. Out of the six million who served in that war, fewer than three hundred thousand are alive today and are passing away at a rate of approximately three hundred a day. Just last week, the last soldier from The Band of Brothers died. Soon, World War II will be as distant a memory as The Civil War with no one around who remembers those years.

I visited Pearl Harbor back in 1993. As I stood on the Arizona Memorial, I watched an older Japanese gentleman showing his wife the mountain pass that the IJN planes came through to launch their attack. I still regret not asking him if he was here on that day and would he be willing to tell me his side of the story. But while writing this, I recalled how serene Pearl Harbor was on the day I took the tour, the same way it looked moments before the first bombs fell on Battleship Row on 7 December 1941.

As I wrote this, I  I ask that you take a few moments this morning to think about the men and women who have served and are serving in our armed forces. They have taken on a burden and accepted a responsibility not all of us are willing to bear.Billy Ray Cyrus summed it up beautifully with his lyrics, "All gave some, some gave all."

Thank you all who served and let's hope we never experience another World War II.

Sample Chapter from Operation Majestic

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Manchester-Boston Regional Airport, Manchester, New Hampshire

One Week Later

 

 

     A cool spring wind blew across the tarmac, kicking up dirt and sand. Agent Patrick Brady lowered his head and closed his eyes. When it died down, he blinked several times and brushed off his suit jacket. On the last swipe, he glanced at his watch. 10:23. Shit.

      Brady folded his arms across his chest. He had picked up several agents at the airport in the past and was used to them being late, but those involved commercial flights. The agent arriving from Washington was arriving on a privately chartered flight, which seemed unusual. The urgency of the situation also seemed strange. Brady had received a phone call from the special agent in charge of the Boston Field Office just before seven that morning ordering him to pick up a Suburban and meet a special agent at the airport at ten. Normally he would not mind, except he was on vacation this week. If Brady thought he had a tough time unsuccessfully attempting to talk the SAC out of making him come to work, informing his wife Stephanie they had to cancel their plans for the day proved more difficult. To help soften the blow, he promised Stephanie he would take her to dinner at Hanover Street Chophouse when he got back. At this rate, he would be reneging on that promise as well.

      The noise of a jet approaching from the southeast caught Brady’s attention. Using his hand to block the sun, he scanned the skies. A Gulfstream approached from five thousand feet and descending rapidly. He watched it draw closer, relieved to spot the FBI logo on the engine nacelles mounted below the horizontal stabilizer. The jet touched down with a screech of rubber and slowed. A few minutes later, the Gulfstream pulled up parallel with the Suburban and stopped. Once the twin jets shut down, the entry door lowered.

      A man centered himself in the open hatch. The black suit and tie, and the mannerisms, gave him away as a special agent. Brady had seen it dozens of times since joining the Bureau, the demeanor of someone with years of experience who had witnessed things most civilians would never see and had been hardened by it. Brady took him for a career agent, with at least fifteen years under his belt judging by the graying hair and lines around his eyes and lips. The pissed-off expression on his face told Brady this guy wanted to be here even less than he did.

      Spotting Brady, he rushed down the steps and approached the Suburban. “Are you the guy who’s supposed to be meeting me?”

      “I am.” Brady stepped away from the vehicle and offered his hand. “I’m Agent Patrick Brady.”

      “I’m Special Agent Gary Carbone.” He gave Brady’s hand a firm pump. “Are you ready?”

      “Don’t you have any luggage?”

      “I don’t plan on being here long. I want to interview this guy and get back to Washington as soon as possible.” Carbone paused halfway into the Suburban. “How far away does he live?”

      “An hour, maybe a little more.”

      “Then let’s haul ass.” When Brady did not move, Carbone tapped his hand on the roof. “Come on.”

       Brady slipped into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and pulled away. He waited until they reached Interstate 293N and had merged into the flow of traffic before speaking.

      “So, do you intend to fill me in on what’s going on?”

      “You’ve been dragged into some major bullshit, kid.”

      “What kind of bullshit?”

      Carbone flashed him an aggravated glare. “Haven’t you been watching the news the past week?”

      “You mean the discovery of the Nazi emblem on that four-thousand-year-old Egyptian structure?”

      “That’s the one. Seems the guy I’m here to interview talked about it several decades ago, only then nobody listened to him.”

      “Why?”

      “Because he’s a fuckin’ nutjob,” Carbone sneered. “He makes some stupid ass claim that, by a freak chance, happens to pan out, and now the Director thinks this guy’s a fucking psychic. And for some reason I’m the SA that has to interrogate him.”

      “I think you mean interview.”

      “Whatever. They should just let this guy talk to the media. Sending me down here is a waste of time and resources.”

      Brady gunned the engine and passed a slow-moving tractor trailer plodding along in the left lane. “Why am I here?”

      “To take notes and write the report.”

      “You’re kidding?” Brady kept his eyes on the highway. “I got called in from my vacation to be your chauffeur and secretary?”

      “Sorry, kid. Shit flows downhill, and on this one you’re at the bottom of the slope.”

      Brady said nothing for the rest of the trip, internally fuming that a fellow special agent would treat him this way. Rather than wallow in his anger, he concentrated on driving. The highway took them only as far as Lake Sunapee, the remainder of the trip being via back roads and a dozen small towns. They finally reached the lake at the town of Newbury. When the GPS led them off the road onto an unpaved driveway that went on for half a mile, Brady thought the system had erred. He was about to back down to the street when the dirt and gravel merged into asphalt and, after another one hundred feet, opened onto the main property. A colonial-style eight-room house stood directly in front of them. To the left was a two-car garage connected to the main residence. Lake Sunapee could be seen two hundred feet behind the property. The lawn out front was carefully maintained, the grass a lush green. Blooming flower beds lined the walkway from the driveway to the front door.

      Carbone huffed. “The nutjob has done pretty good for himself.”

      Brady parked the car in front of the garage. Both men climbed out and proceeded along the walkway. As they neared the front porch, the door opened. A British bulldog waddled out and stopped by the double steps, its tail wagging furiously. An older gentleman emerged dressed in jeans, a white cotton shirt, and loafers. He stood at six feet, erect and without a slouch, with a full head of hair whitened by age. The man’s eyes were azure, yet their attractiveness belied the knowledge that lay underneath. Brady could tell that this man was highly intelligent and had witnessed things most men could not even imagine. The agent figured him to be in his late seventies, but with the mental and physical acuity of a man two decades younger.

      As the two approached, the bulldog barked in excitement.

      “Winnie, be good.” The man crouched and scratched the bulldog behind the ears. “You know you don’t bark at guests.”

      Carbone ignored the dog. “Are you Matthew Evans?”

      “I am.”

      Carbone reached into his inner jacket pocket, withdrew a wallet, and flipped it open with his right hand. Brady removed his and opened it with both hands. “I’m Special Agent Gary Carbone with the FBI. This is Agent Patrick Brady. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

      “Of course. Come in.” Evans waved for them to follow as he stepped through the front door. “I’ve been expecting you.”

      Carbone seemed confused. “You knew we were coming?”

      “Not you in particular. But I figured someone would show up.”

      “Why did you assume that?”

      “I’ve been watching the news all week.” Evans smiled at Carbone, not so much out of pleasantry but as one who knows he has the upper hand. “When I heard they found the Reichsadler in Egypt, I knew it’d only be a matter of time before the Bureau sent someone to talk to me. I’m surprised it took so long.”

      “You have a unique perspective on this situation.”

      “More so than you realize.” When both agents and Winnie had entered the house, Evans closed the door. He led the way to the living room.

      “So, you know why we’re here?” Carbone asked.

      “Of course. You have a lot of questions you want to ask me. And I’m happy to answer them.” Evans gestured to the couch. “Please, have a seat.”

      “Thanks.” Carbone sat on the sofa in front of a coffee table.

      Evans headed for the kitchen, with Winnie rushing along behind him. “I’ll get us some iced tea and snacks.”

      “No need for that.” Carbone did not attempt to conceal his irritation. “This won’t take long.”

Evans chuckled. “Trust me, it will. I’ll be back in a few.”

      After Evans disappeared into the kitchen, Carbone leaned back against the cushions. “Shit. We’ll be here for hours.”

      Brady ignored the special agent. He placed his notebook down on the coffee table and strolled around the room, taking in the details. Evan’s living room also served as his study. Built-in mahogany bookshelves lined the interior wall. Brady scanned the titles. Most of the books pertained to Egyptian history, World War II, American politics from the 1940s to the present, the Cold War, astronomy, physics, UFOs, and the science of time travel. An old Army Air Force officer’s cap rested in a display case on one shelf, flanked to the left by another display case with a pair of 1940s-era gold leaves and a military intelligence badge, and to the right by a black-and-white 8x10 photograph. Brady studied the image. Evans crouched in the center of the photograph with a lieutenant and a U.S. Army staff sergeant to his right and left; a line of seven soldiers stood behind the others, one of them an African-American corporal.

      Crossing the room to the fireplace, he checked out the photos on the mantelpiece. All of them were of Evans and a beautiful woman with shoulder-length red hair, presumably his wife, in front of various landmarks. Brady recognized the Pyramids and the Brandenburg Gate amongst the backgrounds and could tell by the varying textures and clarity of the photos that they scanned from the mid-twentieth century to the present. Another thing he noticed was that the couple aged gracefully from photograph to photograph, appearing only slightly older from one image to the next.

      “What are you doing?” asked Carbone.

      “Getting a feel for what the subject is like.”

      “Check his desk drawer. If you find a tinfoil hat, you’ll know everything you need to.”

      Brady strolled over to the sofa and sat down as Evans entered holding a tray with a pitcher of iced tea, three glasses, and a plate with sliced cheese and cold cuts. He placed the tray onto the coffee table and sat down. Winnie jumped onto the sofa beside him.

      “So, how can I help the FBI?”

      Brady picked up the notebook and opened it to the first page as Carbone leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “We want to know how you predicted an archaeological dig would unearth a Nazi symbol on a structure forty-five hundred years old?”

      “Do you want the long or short version?”

      “The short version should be sufficient.”

      “That’s easy.” Winnie barked, so Evans removed a slice of pepperoni from the plate and fed it to his dog. “The Nazis changed the original timeline so they could win World War II, and I went back in time to correct it.”

Cover art reveal for Operation Majestic

 

Cover art reveal for Operation Majestic scheduled for release on 10 December.

REMINDER: Northeast Comic Con and Collectibles Extravaganza on 26-28 November

 

Just a reminder that I'll be attending the Northeast Comic Con and Collectibles Extravaganza in Boxboro, Massachusetts on 26-28 November. The attendance list is growing every day.

Among the celebrities who will be at NEComicCon are Marta "Judy Robinson" Kristen from Lost in Space; Nicholas "Xander" Brendon from Buffy, The Vampire Slayer; Robert Wuhl; Kaylee Hottle from Godzilla vs. Kong; and many more.

Artists will include marvel legend Jim Steranko, Guy Gilchrist, Barbara Friedlander, Bob Eggleton, and many more.

Pick up your tickets now before they're sold out. I'll see you there in November.

The Cover Art for Operation Majestic Will Be Revealed 23 November

 

 

The cover art for Operation Majestic has been completed and is awesome. Uwe Jarling, who did the creature cover art for my Shattered World series, created this one as well. The full reveal will occur on Tuesday, 23 November.

Frozen World Is Available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited

 

Frozen World is available on Kindle for $3.99 and free on Kindle Unlimited. The print version will be released within the next two days.

 

Where will you find warmth once the world is frozen?

The Great Freeze has engulfed humanity, forcing the survivors to live in an underground facility. One of them is Maya, a young woman who still has a flame of hope burning in her soul that not even the frozen landscape could kill. She believes in justice and a second chance for humanity and joins the defense force.

Maya soon finds herself deeply disappointed with the facility’s government. She uncovers dark secrets about the leadership and upsetting truths that have been kept from the citizens. Maya must choose between her moral values and what is best for the community.

What would you be willing to sacrifice for the values you believe in?

Join Maya in this apocalyptic tale of a potential future.

 

 

Northeast Comic Con and Collectibles Extravaganza on 26-28 November

As most of you know, I'll be attending the Northeast Comic Con and Collectibles Extravaganza in Boxboro, Massachusetts on 26-28 November. The attendance list is growing every day.

Among the celebrities who will be at NEComicCon are Marta "Judy Robinson" Kristen from Lost in Space; Nicholas "Xander" Brendon from Buffy, The Vampire Slayer; Robert Wuhl; Kaylee Hottle from Godzilla vs. Kong; and many more.

Artists will include marvel legend Jim Steranko, Guy Gilchrist, Barbara Friedlander, Bob Eggleton, and many more.

Pick up your tickets now before they're sold out. I'll see you there in November.

My Visit to the Living Dead Museum at the Monroeville Mall

On my way home from the Scares That Care convention in Williamsburg, Virginia, I took a few days off to visit some of the locations associated with George Romero's Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead. This post deals with The Living Dead Museum. You can see the photos from the Night of the Living Dead post here and the photos from Dawn of the Dead Part I here and Part II here. 

Living Dead Museum

The Living Dead Museum used to be located in Evans City and was moved to the Monroeville Mall a few years ago. As you can see in the photo, there's a gift shop up front (I bought two t-shirts). There's a museum in back that is well worth the money. I'm only going to post photos of a few of the items in the museum so you'll have to check out the full exhibit for yourself. For more information on the the museum, click here.

This is the ammo belt warn by Sheriff Conan McClelland (George Kosana) during the final scenes of Night of the Living Dead. Kosana donated it to the museum in 2007

When the mall was renovated, all the lighting systems were replaced with modern fixtures. This is one of the original lights that was donated to the museum.

 

 

 

As I mentioned in an earlier post, the original escalator used for filming the shambling zombies caught on it was replaced during the renovation. A portion of that escalator now resides in the museum.

 

 

I was surprised but happy to find this. This is the original elevator used during the scene when Stephen is bitten and turned by zombies. When JC Penny was removed from its 1978 location and the area turned into a court, there was no longer a need for an elevator at this spot. The builders ripped out the entire shaft. The car and walls now sit in the museum.

 

 

The Maul of Fame

This is a tiled wall inside the museum that contains the "bloody" hand prints and autographs of numerous people related to George Romero's Living Dead movies. I'm posting some of my favorites.  

Russ "Johnny" Streiner from Night of the Living Dead.

Tom "head of the biker gang" Savini from Dawn of the Dead.

Bill "Johnny" Moseley from Night of the Living Dead (1990).

Kyra "Karen Cooper" Schon from Night of the Living Dead.

Lori "Sarah" Cardille from Day of the Dead.

Jim "helicopter zombie" Krut from Dawn of the Dead.

Last but definitely not least, the king of the living dead.