Flash: Four

Acquired from the internet

Repairing a home is never easy, especially the old ones, and especially when dealing with the eccentric owners with more money than sense. Carlos fed me the fourth of the railroad ties for the circular saw we were milling into four-by-two to repair flooring throughout the house.

Staining them will be a bitch, but it made the house ghost happy, and we got to charge for the special services on top of our extra fees for working in a haunted house.

(words 81, first published 3/28/2022, from a FB word prompt (Four) for a writing group I belong to, aiming for around 50 words)

Book Review: Dead Eye Series

Book Cover from Amazon

Dead Eye: Pennies for the Ferryman by Jim Bernheimer
Dead Eye: The Skinwalker Conspiracies by Jim Bernheimer

SERIES REVIEW

Last month I went over an awesome sci-fi/mystery series by Liana Brooks, this month I thought I would talk about another favorite author’s who has a mystery/urban-fantasy, Jim Bernheimer and his Dead Eye series. The series is from early in his writing career, but the character and supporting cast have all the quirks and humanity you expect in Bernheimer books. I would love to see more books of this series, but it doesn’t make nearly as much money as his D-List Supervillain series.

Writing being the uneasy mix of creativity and putting food on the table means if a author has a choice between writing two stories which he is interested in, he is going to choose the one more likely to get recompense. But, maybe, the Supervillain creativity well will run low and Mr. Bernheimer will need a break and we will get a book three in this series. Each of the books is good as a stand-alone so read away! (Oh, and purchase them, so, you know, the drive of putting food on the table makes writing more of these books more tasty to the author.)

 

Book Cover from Amazon

Dead Eye: Pennies for the Ferryman by Jim Bernheimer

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON

My name is Mike Ross. I’m a Ferryman. I help people with ghost problems, or ghosts with people problems. Funny thing, no one ever helps me with my problems. Civil War ghosts bent on killing me, Skinwalkers who just want my body, and a vindictive spirit linked both to my bloodline and my destiny… It turns out the dead still hold a good deal of influence over the world, and they don’t want to give it up. I’m in way over my head. Fortunately, I’m too stubborn to quit.

 

MY REVIEW

Another excellent Jim Bernheimer book, in yet another genre – this one Urban Fantasy. He gets to do his normal snark, but at lower levels then the superhero (Confessions of a D-List Superhero) and the sci-fi police procedural (Prime Suspects) series. He continues to master the first person Point of View voice.

The book is from early in his writing career and shows a passion, just an underlying something, that makes me feel this is a personal favorite. I love the description on the 2nd page; it leaped off the page 
“Me, I was still under warranty, so they shipped me back for replacement parts…”
The character’s voice is captured in this sentence – partial despair with a breath of hope, but mostly getting on with life. Of all the characters Mr. Bernheimer has created, I think I identify with Mike Ross the most.

The overall manuscript feels like a collection of short stories, with each vignette separate but a connecting overall story arc as well. Makes it easy to read a section and put down for other activities; I read it in one gulp per my normal reading habit. As mentioned the story is earlier in his writing career so some of the transitions are bumpy. But the character makes the trip worth a little shimmy. The fight scenes are brutal, dirty exchanges concentrating on survival; the character is getting on with life, and plans to keep it with training from the wrestling team at high school and the all-expense-paid training from Uncle Sam. Towards the end of the book, the fighting gets more Fantasy/magical and isn’t quite as fun – but makes up for it by making the magic stronger as the main character learns how to cope with the new necromancy world he has been thrust into. Be interesting to see what happens next, as the character continue to grow into his full potential.

Give me two pennies, because I want to take another trip with the Ferryman.

 

Book Cover from Amazon

Dead Eye: The Skinwalker Conspiracies by Jim Bernheimer

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON

My name is Mike Ross and I’m a Ferryman – like in the Greek myth. I didn’t ask for, or really want, the job, but I’m trying to make the best of it. Most ghosts are okay and just need a little help to get where they need to go. Unfortunately, there are lots of exceptions, like power-mad psychopaths, spirits still trying to fight battles long since lost, and the worst of the lot – the Skinwalkers. They live vicariously by possessing people and controlling them like puppet masters. Then they toss them aside when they’ve outlived their usefulness.

One of them stole my father fifteen years ago, and now I’m going to make that ghost pay.

 

MY REVIEW

A wonderful seven-hour read. While the Dead Eye series is set up with stand-alone chapters, little short stories in-and-of themselves, I read the book in one sitting. I didn’t mean to, but after about half-way through, I couldn’t put the book down.

Mike Ross has gone on a road trip to find his father with his blind Pastor friend to keep him on the straight and narrow path while crossing the country following Skinwalkers. A dirty, knock-them-down fight opens the book, but the action is slower than the first book as the magic continues to grow more and more every battle. The first few chapters don’t seem to be going anywhere, but are wonderful little vignettes providing the character’s powers, history, and introducing the cast without the typical retrospection so common in series books. Nope, Mr. Berheimer completely shows everything instead of telling us. Great storytelling.

Mr. Bernheimer has quite a bit of fun revisiting (Texas) history from a ghost’s viewpoint. Episode 17 “Dallas Texas – Paranormal Population: One” and Episode 19 “Trying to Forget the Alamo” adds an aspect of worldbuilding, making the book both tied to the real world and distinctly not Our real world (maybe, at least I hope so).

The strongest thread point of this manuscript is romantic – taking a bit away from the action of the Urban Fantasy. Page 40 captures Mike’s problem of finding love after becoming a Ferryman in two sentences, set immediately after meeting with a single-mother stripper he used to date before everything changed: “The fact that she was better off without me was unsettling … It made me wonder, what kind of gal would be better off WITH me?”

The answers which danced in my head after he asked himself this question went from bad to worse. Dead, crazy, tortured prisoner, someone so desperate and broke (mentally and financially) you never know why they love you. The thing is Mike is such a real person, even as ink on page, you pray he doesn’t end up with such a person but at the same time you hope he finds someone because he is so lonely after everything he had seen and done and the Pastor just isn’t enough. And when you are hoping, you also don’t want the author to sell some perfect person for the perfect love interest. You really do want Mike to meet someone who is better off with him.

Does Mr. Bernheimer pull it off? Well, that would be telling. I’m just going to say Victoria Poe is not exactly the person I want directing my road trip.

Flash: Daylight Regrets

Daylight came too soon, pushing back the magic of night. Julian pulled the crumpled bedsheeets around him wondering … wondering if he could continue, wondering if he could stop.

Joseph had been his world from the moment they met at the recreation center. Joe, blond, sculptured, and popular was the pool attendant. Surrounded by the teenage crowd of beauty, where he reigned supreme.

Julian debated pretending to drown to get his attention … for weeks. Instead, for the first time of his life, he crushed his shyness and asked the guy out. He expected to be shot down. Joe could have any guy or girl in the pace. Instead he said yes. Yes to a dweeb, yes to a guy in a homophobe town, yes to him.

They swam daily during lunch. They ate breakfast and dinner together. From the first date, they saw each other every day. The high school Julian had been certain would turn against them in their senior year, supported them – their star quarterback, swimmer, pitcher and the new guy who stole his heart and won the county science fair and took the chess team to national finals.

They changed the town. Gave hope to other kids who came out to their parents. Joe still won prom king, and the crowd cheered when Joe and Julian took the dance floor beside the prom queen and her college boyfriend.

Five years of bliss. Joe supported him through college. Cleaned house, cooked meals, massaged aching shoulders. They started talking about adoption after Julian got his first full-time job.

They were suppose to have forever.

Julian rubbed the goosebumps on his arms as he watched the sun climb in the sky.

The problem is Joe thought so too. So much, so hard, he continued to visit Julian every night since he died. And Julian couldn’t say no. He never had been able to turn Joe away.

And he needed to.

Needed to.

Needed to send Joe to the light. Instead Joe left before the dawn every morning. And Julian relived Joe’s betrayal every day – Joe dying while Julian had to keep living. The moment Julian was told Joe would never …

He needed to stop this cycle before it destroyed him. He needed it to continue so he would always be loved. Never seeing Joe again would kill him. Keeping seeing Joe would break him.

He couldn’t keep living like this. He couldn’t stop living like this.

(words 408 – originally appearing at Breathless Press 10/10/2013 for the 5/6/12 Sunday Fun – See the picture that inspired the story! – As I do not know the copyright permissions, I have not copied it here; republished new blog format 9/8/2019)

Flash: Sisyphus Duties

From Unsplash: Boulder Photo by Peter Gonzalez (unsplash link no longer available) / Woman Photo by terricks noah
Cropped and merged by Erin Penn

All she had to do was push the stone to the top of the hill just once before sunset. Once. Some days she nearly made it by inches, some days she only got half-way.

Today she didn’t even try. Just standing took all her strength. She leaned against her nemesis, the boulder, slapping it a couple of times like a good dog by her side.

Exhaustion.

Back before this mission, an eternity ago, she had similar missions. Get through this pile of paperwork. Pay the rent again. Take care of the student loan. Put food on the table. Smile at the spouse. A spouse she never saw, rent for a home she never was in, a loan for an education she never used, food for children she couldn’t raise. All to push paperwork off her desk until it returned the next day. Phone call, computer files, interviews. Push, push, push.

As things went, pushing a boulder up the hill was a breeze. If she started now, she may make it about half-way. She shrugged, having found her millionth wind, and started pushing. She wasn’t sure if she was in hell or purgatory or still alive on earth. The boulder started moving for the day.

(Words 204; first published 6/16/19)

Flash: Simile Comparisons can be Real

Photo from freedigitalphotos.net

Elijah staggered up the steps. Once on the Victorian wrap-around porch he dragged off his sweat-soaked T-shirt and heaved it in the hamper his mom kept outside for his use. He flopped onto the wicker bench beside the hamper to unlace his work boots. Propped against the white picket railing, he delayed, gathering strength to bend over.

Mowing lawns in August was rough, but brainless. Some days the mindless work made him long for school to restart. Get the brain cells sparking. Even high school lit class sounded like paradise two days ago. Today, the monotonous activity kept him moving.

Moving. He needed to move.

Hoisting his left foot onto his right knee, Elijah tackled the wet grass-stained lace. Broken dirty fingernails dug into the sticky Gordon knot. Eventually the heavy boot thunked on the porch. A sodden once-white sock flew in a high arc, landing in a splat beside the hamper. The newly lightened foot floated to the wooden slats.

His jeans had a hole, above the knee. Elijah started at it a bit poking his finger in the opening.  He would need mom to patch it. Mr. Taggert didn’t like his team to look ratty. Team … I guess two people would still count as a team.

Other foot.

Task completed, and five pounds lighter between the shirt and boots, Elijah stood. The breeze was picking up, turning the hot afternoon chilly as it dried his sweat. Shivering, the teen debated taking off his work pants before going in. His mom hated him tracking grass clippings in the house.

“What’s up homey?” a voice said unexpectedly, breaking into his thoughts.

Elijah jumped. Spinning rapidly, he saw his best friend since fifth grade stepping onto the porch. The turn combined with exhaustion, physical and emotional, left him dizzy. He leaned against a nearby pillar for support, while his overdressed friend waited for him to regroup.

The tux looked great on Matthew. But then Matthew, from his wavy black rock-star hair, to the perfect cleft in his chin, had always looked good.

Naturally muscular and agile, Matthew had made the football team freshman year as linebacker. Elijah preferred track, but relented to Matthew’s friendly taunts to be a wide receiver under the condition Matt take up shot put. Which meant Matt had ended up with football AND track scholarships on the table waiting for him to finish his senior year and Elijah got a lot of bruises from being tackled.

“Gotcha!” Matt reported as he bounded over. Seeing Elijah still depending on the pillar for support, his skin more ashen than bronze despite a day outdoors, Matt got concerned. “Dude, are you okay? You look like you have seen a ghost.”

Elijah swallowed and licked his lips and swallowed again, trying to get the spit up to talk. “I have, bro. Haven’t you read the obituaries today?”

“What?” Matt shook his head.  “Have you ever known me to read the paper? You have the freaky parents still getting the morning paper delivered.”

“Matt, you missed work yesterday. I thought you had cut out for the beach or something.” Tears streamed down Elijah’s face. “Your parent found you dead, an aneurism or something.”

Matt laughed. “Stop messing with me, Dude.”

Elijah slammed his hand against the wooden pillar. “Oh God I wish I was. … Mr. Taggert let me off early so I could shower and go to your viewing tonight.”

“Dude, stop it. You’re scaring me.” Matt tried to grab Elijah by the shoulders to shake sense into him.

Elijah had stepped back quickly to avoid being touched, so only the tips of Matt’s fingers passed through Elijah.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” The teen ran to his front door, banging open the screen. “Not again.”

Behind him, his best friend stared at his fingers in shock, waving them back and forth a moment. He laid his hand on the railing and gently pushed it through.

“Shit.” Matthew squeezed his hand into a fist. It felt solid. Matthew inhaled, trying to kick start his thoughts. He blinked. “Wait, what did he mean by ‘again’?”

(words 685 originally appearing at Breathless Press 6/27/13 for the 4/1/12 Sunday Fun – I have modified the final 3 paragraphs; republished new blog format April 28, 2019)