Your Midweek Update for 09/29/21

I’ve been thinking a lot about dismemberment lately.

There are so many ways to go about it, so many places to start, but in the end, you’re just peeling cheesy bread apart. Warm, gooey, cheesy bread. The kind from commercials that stretches forever and you can see the steam rising through the little bubbles of stringy, delicious cheese.

Mmm…cheesy bread.

There is no restaurant open right now that can deliver to me some cheesy bread and that is a fucking travesty.

Anyways. Back to dismemberment.

There’s an old Greek myth about a serial killer who would bend two trees together, tie a person to both, then let the trees loose. The body would go flying apart and be ripped in half.

I know it’s not entirely realistic but can’t you just see it? Can’t you just picture a man’s torso stretching and peeling and tearing apart? I bet you could hear the screams for miles.

Now, there have been reports more recent than ANCIENT GREECE that describe a group of men catapulting a body apart so there is some precedent for it but I would love to be able to put it into practice. And besides, it’s for science. I’ve been hearing all these whispers about scientists performing dangerous experiments in order to create vaccines, and how it’s unethical – as though most things we know about modern medicine didn’t come from Nazi doctors and prison experiments.

Science and innovation are fucking messy. Why is this news?

That being said, there are some people who may be curious about what happens to a person when they are… drawn and halved (rather than drawn and quartered) and while scientists are all about the “dangerous experiments” this may be a step too far for them. Luckily, I’m around and it’s not too far for me.

What I’m struggling with is the set up. I don’t know what kind of trees they’ve got growing in the ancient world but the trees in my neighbourhood are fucking hard to bend. This weekend, James and I are going to rent a truck and we’re going to try hauling it back with a rope or chain (you know we’ve got both) to see if that’ll give us the bend we’re looking for.

Finding the victim won’t be difficult, but we have to keep everything locked in place while we tie them to the two trees and I feel like so many things could go wrong. Of course, most of those things will still result in the man’s death, but it won’t give us the desired result. The murder is inevitable. I’m focused on the “how”.

See: I’m a scientist.

Can you imagine if I tried to publish my findings in a scientific journal?

That’s not a horrible idea, actually. Most serial killers write to the police or to the press because they want attention. I want to learn – and I want others to learn. The place for that is in a scientific journal.

Huh.

I’ll think about it.

In the meantime, I’m off to find the strongest chain in our collection.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Midweek Update for 09/22/21

Still stuck at home. Still loopy. Still having my kills delivered to me in the back of someone’s car. Which, for a treat, isn’t a bad way of going about it but not when it’s your only option. You know I hate be reliant on others. Despite the age of technology making everything accessible at my fingertips – including victims – there are some things you just need to do for yourself. Besides, a decade ago, it might have been easy enough to kill a delivery driver but not now. Those poor drivers are so closely monitored, their bosses would probably know the minute their heart stopped beating so they could stop paying them.

Yes, I work for a bank, that does not mean I am not in favour of eating the rich and destroying our late-stage capitalist society. The thing that pays my bills is not the thing that brings me joy in life. I keep those thoroughly separated.

Although I’m barely doing the thing that brings me joy anymore.

Oh sure, James has brought home a few victims on his way home from work. There was a young woman, maybe nineteen, who was walking home from work when a police officer pulled over and offered to drive her home. Of course, she said ‘no’ because she’s understandably distrustful of the police as an organization. However, my husband is very persuasive (and very charming) so I had a lovely present waiting for me in the basement when I got home from physio therapy on Thursday night.

Some men bring their wives flowers…

This woman was such a little screamer, let me tell you. Well, I am. Telling you. What an odd phrase. You say ‘let me tell you’ but the fact that you’re saying it implies that they were already being told. English is such a garbage language.

Anyways, she was in the basement, screaming her lungs out, so naturally those organs were the first to go. Her death was an experiment in memorization and anatomy. For one, the doctor told me to be aware of any side effects of the pain medication which can include memory loss or loss of time so tracking everything is incredibly important. I played a game with that woman’s body where I sliced her open like a zipper, and then I removed her organs one by one and remembered the order in which to put them back.

The lungs are such a strange organ. Before I started killing, I always assumed they were below the chest plate – despite the boys in my tenth-grade class talking about how Frankie Marlowe had a healthy set of lungs. I also imagined them to be a solid object, independently hanging in the ribcage, with muscles of its own to expand and contract.

The lungs are more like… you know those sticky hand toys that you throw at a wall and it sticks for a second and then it slowly rolls to the ground? The lungs are more like that. They’re a bag, sure, a space that can fill with air and circulate oxygen, but there are no ‘lung muscles’ per se. They’re connected to muscles that connect to the rib cage and the lung is more like a wet paper beg clinging to the nearest object that happens to be pumping in and out.

I don’t know why I went off on a tangent in anatomy but there’s your free lesson for the day.

The actually point I was trying to make is that my husband brought me an adorable little screamer, and I made a beautiful mess of her organs – and of the downstairs basement. We would have taken her to the storage unit but I was honestly too sore to move that much after physio. I know the road to recovery is long and winding and all that shit but I would like to be healed now, thank you very much.

As much fun as I had with Lung Girl, I would like to get back to my normal life.

Two more weeks.

Two more weeks.

Please, god, let it only be two more weeks.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Book Tour for Chasing Alys by Morgana Bevan

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Blog Tour for Remnants of Blood by H. F. Cunningham

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Your Midweek Update for 09/15/21

You know what I love so much? Year-End reporting.

You know what I’m lying through my teeth about loving?

Fucking Year-End reporting.

Who decided that the fiscal year ended in September? For that matter, who decided that the calendar year ended in December? Who decided there would be 12 months in a year? Who decided how we would measure time? What even is time? Why does any of this matter?

…

So I’ve taken my pain meds and I am slightly calmer. Bad news is: I am now exhausted out of my mind. Honestly, though, I feel like this week has flown by – and not in a good way. I have no idea what’s happened between last week and this week. That’s

I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

I hate this feeling.

I’m physically helpless because of a stupid accident. Not being able to go out for kills has been hard enough. On Saturday night, James brought me home a victim tied in the trunk of his car. It was very sweet – and I did enjoy slicing her from navel to chin and watching her guts slowly spill open like a baked potato – but it didn’t have the same thrill I’m used to. Being able to catch my own prey, as it were, is an essential part of my life. And besides, I can’t have my husband bringing me home some poor victim every night. It’s like junk food: it’s only a treat if it happens infrequently. I love when James picks out victims. It’s incredibly erotic and it brings us closer together as a couple. This just felt cheap.

But at least I can still kill this way.

It’s the pain meds. They make me lethargic and I have trouble focusing and yet I can’t quite get to sleep because my body is restless. I have not been enjoying my time, let me tell you. Without the medication, I can’t put any weight on my knees. Any stretch or compression that tugs my kneecaps out of alignment has me seeing stars. It’s unbearable.

It feels like there’s no real winning, here, and that is probably the worst part: there’s no good answer. There’s no work around or solution that will keep me happy. I just feel…trapped.

I know this wasn’t the happiest update, I apologize, dear readers. I’ll try to have something more entertaining for next week.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Except of Wicked Darkness by B.L. Callaghan

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Blog Tour of Spirit Fire by Susan McCauley

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the SPIRIT FIRE by Susan McCauley Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

About the Book

Title: SPIRIT FIRE (Ghost Hunters #3)

Author: Susan McCauley

Pub. Date: September 28, 2021

Publisher: Celtic Sea Publishing

Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, B&N, TBD, Bookshop.org

Kindle Unlimited members will be able to read this for FREE!

Who—or what—is causing the fires in the French Quarter? A little girl? A long-dead prisoner? An evil presence calling to those beyond the grave?

In this spooky, fast-paced adventure, twelve-year-old Alex must fight smoke, flames, and ghostly prisoners to stop whatever’s causing the blazes—before more lives are lost.

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BONES IN THE WALL: Kindle, Audible

PIRATE’S CURSE: Kindle

Your Midweek Update for 09/08/21

All right, so. In case anyone was wondering: my knee is still broken and I’m still miserably unable to do anything fun. This past week has been so, incredibly, boring. I go to work, I come home, I do my physio exercises, I sit on the couch and watch tv, then I take my pain meds and pass out until morning. Rinse and repeat.

On the plus side: I have been catching up on this television people have been talking about. All those Marvel shows (yes, I caved and got Disney+ because I am bored and need something to occupy my time – so why not the entirety of English-language movies and television for all of history?). WandaVision was good. A little confusing but good. Falcon and Winter Soldier, also a very good time. Loved the social commentary and violence. Loki was more confusing, less social commentary. Tom Hiddleston is attractive, though. What is it with the hair flip that works? It’s very confusing.

Honestly, my week has been so boring. On the plus side: I have yet to lose my mind over the lack of murdering that’s been happening the last few weeks So that’s nice. I would hate to go crazy when there was nothing I could do about it.

Again.

I’ve been spending some time (while I’m conscious… so, about an hour a day) writing out plans for what I’ll do once I’m back on my feet. A lot of choking people with random objects (I blame Marvel’s influence), a bit of poison with household objects.

If I were ten years younger, I would try and learn that thigh-spin-chokehold-thing Scarlett Johansen does in every movie. It looks pointless and fun but given the fact that I currently struggle to bend my knee far enough to sit on a toilet seat, I’m pretty sure learning weird assassin moves is off the table.

I guess there’ll be a few things off the table, now. Even once the cast is off, I can’t start sprinting right away. And even if I can, the risk of further injury will always be there. And even then, I know I’ll always be worried about damaging my knee again so I’ll be cautious and I’ll hesitate and I’ll put myself at risk.

Maybe instead of lists of exciting new kills, I need to make a list of my limitations. That one might be longer.

God, why was I so stupid?

Except, I wasn’t. I did what I always do, but this time, it ended in my knee cap fucking off to parts unknown. Am I just getting old?

Fuck.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Blog Tour of Of The Lilin by Pauline Hampton

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About the Book:

Title: OF THE LILIN (The Sage Chronicles, #1)

Author: Paulette Hampton

Pub. Date: August 27, 2021

Publisher: Paulette Hampton

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 317

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle

Kindle Unlimited members will be able to read this for FREE!

While dealing with depression, Sage attempts to pull herself into the light. What she finds is better left in the dark.

After the loss of her mother and her stepfather's mental breakdown, Sage Frankle agrees to move in with her aunt and cousin at the Englewood Inn. Soon, her aunt arranges for Sage to begin working through her trauma with a psychologist. As time passes, Sage finds that she is far from healing and begins to slip from reality into a realm of darkness she is unable to escape. After the arrival of her cousin's intriguing acquaintance, Sage is forced to realize she is indeed trapped, not by her mind, but by her bloodline.

Your Midweek Update for 09/01/21

It’s a brand new month and yet I am still the same dumbass I was ten years ago. Last week, I thought it would be super fun to chase a victim who’d caught on a little too early that they were in mortal danger. It’s incredibly annoying when that happens. It’s like on cop shows when they announce that they’re police when there’s a crowd of people between them, and get surprised when they run. Even if I wasn’t in trouble with the law, I’m probably running from the police. In this day and age, I’m hesitant to report a car accident because I’m worried it will escalate.

That’s not what this is about.

This is about me, chasing after a victim, landing on my fucking knee on a concrete floor, and fracturing my kneecap. And then, because – as I said – I am a complete dumbass, I got up, kept running after this woman who was now screaming her lungs out, and just barely tackled her before we reached a public access door.

The only reason she’s even dead is because she hit her head on the same cement that cracked my knee, which stunned her long enough that I could drag her to the edge of the parking garage and throw her over. Knowing my luck, I figured I would have been pulled over the side with her or she’d land on a passing car and survive or some bullshit like that.

The universe covered my ass this once. Sort of.

Anyways, I managed to limp back to my car and drive myself to an emergency room where they confirmed that my kneecap was not, in fact, supposed to be in that position. I spent my Monday night in surgery and then getting the largest cast put around my knee. It was unnecessarily large for only injuring a small portion of my leg. But I did manage to chip off part of the bone in my kneecap and I have to keep the cast on until the bone has fused together.

I came home Tuesday morning and slept until Thursday – which is why I didn’t update you last week. I was dreaming about flying fish and giant talking turkey legs (I hadn’t eaten anything in over 24 hours at that point). To conclude: my dumb ass is going to be walking around on crutches for at least five more weeks and I am not looking forward to it.

But I know I did it to myself. I went after a victim without backup – which I normally don’t need but I was technically performing a kill out in the open and it’s always smarter to bring backup – I didn’t look where I was going, and then I kept running on it after the initial injury. To be fair: there was no way in hell I was letting this woman get away. I would be in surgery and she’d be giving my sketch to the police. I’d be arrested in a giant, ugly cast. No. Way.

But that is what’s going to be occupying my time for the next few weeks. We are just trying not to fall over at this point. I promise I’m scolding myself continuously, I have no one to blame but myself – and the victim for running… but mostly me. I’m basically out of commission for the next two months at least, which is not the best time for my mental health but, again, no one to blame but the victim. “Fortunately” I can still go in to work but all extra-curricular activities are off, much to my husband’s disappointment. Even if I was able to get close enough to kill someone and they had the decency not to run, I am way too recognizable with this hunk of plaster on my knee. It’s big and heavy enough that I’d happily bludgeon someone to death with it…if it didn’t cause me, just, immense amounts of pain.

If you couldn’t already tell, I’m going to be a little grumpy for the next few weeks. Deal with it.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe