350, work


I’ve written a book with Joseph Simmons (Yes!! That Joesph Simmons.) It’s all very exciting to me.

I will be launching an all or nothing Kickstarter for the book at the end of June. The Kickstarter will be a bare-bones campaign to fund the cost of printing and a slick looking cover. That will be created by Mister Simmons.

Rewards for pledging will look something like this….a live audio reading, printed version signed by the main character of the book, Kindle and PDF versions and fun notes about writing the book with Joseph Simmons.

The title and start of the campaign are still to be determined. So, expect to be bugged a few times the next few weeks.

If you know anything about me, you know that I like foul language, foul humor, and foul woman. You can expect the story to have similar taste.

To hopefully get you excited (as I am) here is an excerpt from the book along with a cover concept.


The starship finished powering up and made the jump to lightspeed. Sixteen. After the ship had gone, I was left floating in the deep dead of space. I had just been inside that ship, now I was a part of the vast, empty nothingness of space.
I’m not going to lie to you. There’s something poetic about being left to die in space. The twinkling stars. Nebula clouds and galaxy formations. An endless abyss in every direction. I think I would have enjoyed it more except I’m really fucking afraid of heights. Hey, don’t you judge? Even a macho man, like me, has their hang-ups. Mine just happens to be heights and now space!
Okay, so, that handsome fella staring back at me in the reflection of my space helmet, the fella with the big smile on his face, is me: CAPTAIN BINGO DISCO.
All right settle down. I know my parents sucked at naming kids or maybe it was the writer just wanting his ruggedly handsome, titular main character to have a ridiculous middle name. What you thought Bingo was my first name? Nope. Captain, it is. I used to think it was Awesome, but that “Awesome” was my grandfather’s name.
Anyway, my name isn’t what’s important here. Well maybe it is considering it’s the title of this book and it’s my name.
No. No, what’s important here is this: why the fuck am I smiling when a bomb is mere seconds from exploding in my face?
Did I not mention that part about the bomb? In the excitement of being thrown out of a perfectly good starship by the balls, I must have forgotten. For you to understand this tale we have to go back to the beginning.

Sweet Susie Disco was on the bed in the stark white hospital room gritting her teeth. She was simultaneously trying to push and suck the baby back into her uterus. The physical pain of childbirth and the mental pain of actually having to raise a kid with her bastard husband had collided at precisely the wrong time.
“Oh shit! Why did I let this happen?! What the hell did I do in life to deserve this punishment? My family lived in a double-wide for Christ sake! I could have had any asshole!”
Commodore Bingo Disco stood at the other end of the bed and took a quick peek at the exit hole where his soon-to-be-born son would be appearing, then back to the nurse. Her tight little outfit was too cute to ignore. She was supposed to be helping with the delivery, but he figured the wife had it covered. Mothers have been giving birth for how many years? Fuck it, the doctor was there too.
“You’re doing great, honey,” he said as he bent over to inspect the nurse’s legs. “I couldn’t do it better if I was doing it myself. Seriously. You’re a real trooper.”
Without turning his glance away from the cute little nurse, Disco ducked under a food tray as it went sailing across the room. It barely missed his head before the tin tray banged against the perfect white wall, staining it with a mixture of shitty hospital food.
“I fucking hate you!”
“Oh, I know it,” he said.
The nurse liked being gawked at and giggled. Sweet Susie tried harder to make the kid go back in and never come out. Unfortunately, nature had…

Wait. Let’s stop right there and fast forward a little bit.
That was too damned far back. The counter on the bomb is at five. I doubt I have time to tell that story. It’s a really good story, but tough shit.
Look, I was a really cute baby, but the proper starting point of this little yarn is with another spectacularly named member of the Disco family; the daughter I never knew I had: Baby Disco.

To Be Continued…

Very rough cover concept

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