My second novel is out in e-reader format!


12:19…The time has been set…
Violet and Johnny Dotson pull up stakes and relocate to the beautiful countryside near Asheville, North Carolina in an attempt at starting their lives over after series of miscarriages. Unbeknownst to them they have actually been summoned there by a higher power.
Locked away in a mountaintop mental institution, J.C., a mysterious man who was the only survivor found at the scene of a brutal murder/suicide, will only utter five words… “I am the son of God.”
Strange events centered around the unknown patient spur Detective Tom Drayton to connect several bizarre deaths to the time of 12:19.
Armed with an old priest’s advice and a touch of new found faith, Tom follows a path that could very well lead him to the destruction of all mankind.  But is he doing God’s bidding, or could he in fact be the dreaded serpent himself?
12:19…The clock is ticking….

One of the darkest things you'll ever read!

Check it out at Museitup Publishing






 

A new thriller from a friend

 While I'm waiting for my second novel to come out, a friend of mine is about to release her second!

Lisa Regan has a new psychological thriller, Aberration, coming out on June 6th. To celebrate, she will be hosting a Blog Hop on June 6-7 called The Aberration Blog Hop: Finding the Most Aberrant Characters.  "All you have to do is list your top 5 choices for the most aberrant (i.e. abnormal or freakish) characters in fiction, television or movies. Also, if you're a writer, you can then include a short paragraph about who you think is the most aberrant character from your own work."

There will be prizes! 

You can visit Lisa on her website by clicking on the image below.

By the way, if You haven't read her first novel, Finding Claire Fletcher, you really should. Talk about topical...it's about a woman who grew up in captivity and her fear of leaving her abductor. Creepy being that it came out last year, long before the three girls in the news.

The first four people who donate twenty dollars or more to the Boston Marathon Victims at this SITE, and provide me with a copy of their confirmation email at michaelinfinito@gmail.com, will receive a signed copy of my novel, IN BLOG WE TRUST!

Book Signing

My new favorite thing to do... it was kinda fun!

The New Constitution (as I see it) Amendment 1 through 3

  Okay, the existing stuff is in italics....

Amendment 1 (This one should be deleted in favor of my new version, which, although not ideal, is truthful in how it reflects the reality in our country at this time) Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

New Amendment 1

Congress shall assume that the majority of the country is of Judeo Christian belief, but shall endeavor to respect all other forms of religion involving a peace-loving deity. Satanism in any form shall be frowned upon and even peaceful assembly of an anti-God persuasion shall be discouraged and sometimes prohibited. Free speech, damaging press, or petitioning of the government, while not illegal, could bring forth unwanted, and sometimes severe consequences in the public eye.   

Amendment 2 (Should remain as is with an added feature below) A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.

Amendment 2.5

With the upgrade of modern weaponry, and the decreased threat of a foreign power invading our land by foot, the people shall still have a right to bear arms in protection of their homes and property, and also for recreational needs. However, military grade weaponry shall be reserved for the military, and a logical limit shall be set as to the amount of firepower one individual may possess, just as boundaries have already been set on other rights such as speed limits.


(The third Amendment should be done away with because it makes no sense anymore. It should be replaced with my new number three)

Amendment 3 No soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law.

New Amendment 3
The government shall have no say in the matter of marriage; It shall remain an individual choice, a private matter between consenting parties and whichever deity they choose to unite before, if any.

Penmanship is obviously not my strength!

Amazingly, this jumbled mess turned into the first chapter of 12:19, which, although its a little behind its scheduled publishing date, should be out soon!

First Chapter of IN BLOG WE TRUST

1996

                        The crowd erupted into chaotic screams as Incorrigible, the world’s biggest rock band, made their way to the stage. Wasting little time, they picked up their instruments, immediately breaking into the song, “Are We Alone.”  With a bombastic riff behind his gravelly voice, Kirk Cochoran belted out the lyrics, eventually screeching the final lines.

           
            The candles and the stained glass

            Comforted my heart

            As the bitterness in my brain

            Tried to tear their world apart

           

            I am no one

            I am someone

            Isn’t life so odd

           

            I am no good

            I am so good

            A child of some God

           

                     The audience went crazy as the feedback from the guitar Kirk was playing continued to hum, even after the song had come to a thunderous conclusion. He let the instrument hang from its strap, freeing up both of his hands. Kirk then grabbed the microphone stand and pulled it up to his skinny, five foot nine inch frame, almost as if he were humping it.

                        “It’s great to be fuckin’ home!” he screamed, causing the crowd to cheer. “We’ve played all over the world, but I can tell you, Portland’s where the party’s at. This is also a special night for us. One year ago today, we released “Corporate Generation” as a single.”

                        Tommy Hanes, the band’s bassist, and Carlos Russo, the drummer, began to play the rhythm section of the song, while Kirk tantalized the fans with his introduction to the decade’s biggest hit.

                        “Tonight we want to bring it back to where it all started,” he continued, unplugging his fancy red Fender guitar and trading it for an old, worn out, black model.

                        The feedback from the amplifier intensified as the old guitar came to life. The high pitched humming was so loud it brought pain to Kirk’s ears.  He immediately tried to turn it down using the control knobs on the instrument, but nothing was working. The unsettling noise became shrill enough that even the half-stoned crowd couldn’t take it any longer. Kirk reached down to unplug his line, and that’s when all hell broke loose. A surge of electricity made its way through the guitar and into the rocker’s body. He began to shake from the current ripping through him. Saliva boiled from his mouth as he fell backward onto the stage.

                        “Cut the mother fucking power!” Tommy Hanes screamed.

                        Security, roadies, and emergency officials stormed the stage. The electricity was cut off, but sparks still flew from Kirk’s gyrating body. By this time, the genius songwriter of his era was on fire. His eyes had exploded from out of his head, and cooking brain matter splattered the stage like popcorn from a popper. Security officers tried to spray him with fire extinguishers, but nothing could douse the blaze. The power was completely dead, and so was Kirk. The electricity that had settled into his body refused to leave. Blue sparks continued to fly as the pile of charred bone and flesh burned its way through the bottom of the stage and down to the next level of the building. Hoards of people soon pushed their way to the scene, hoping it was all some sort of tricky gimmick that had been perpetrated by the band. The sight of Tommy Hanes down on his knees, throwing up, and Carlos Russo bawling hysterically, should have been a clue to them it was no hoax. By the time the event was over, all that remained of Kirk Cochoran was fourteen pounds of cremated ashes and a rock and roll mystery for the ages.

           
To read more, the entire novel is available on Amazon, Black Rose Writing, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.  It is also available in both paperback and e-reader format.

           

           

           

           

           

           

The Giant

At the base of the alps, amidst the deep winter snows, stood the tiny village of Maryville. An eye-catching array of quaint shops and friendly people, Maryville was viewed by many as a fantasy destination. But for the residents who lived there, what appeared to be a dream life could also be a nightmare.

         On the other side of the snowy mountains lived an evil giant, The residents of Maryville referred to him as ‘Vin the Horrible’, a savage, hairy beast who once a year ravaged their peaceful community. As hard as they tried, the good people of the village were powerless to fend off his aggressive rampage.
          As the new year approached, Gustav Mueller, the mayor of Maryville, called the townspeople together to discuss the problem, just like he had done every year for as long as anyone could remember.
           “This will be the last season we’ll let our town be attacked by that marauding giant!” he shouted over the crowd, who had gathered in the town square.
          “You say that every year, Gustav,” Helmut Klunk, a plump old Innkeeper, replied. “You can’t go on making empty promises. How can we possibly stop a giant of Vin’s size?
         “Yeah, ‘Vin the Horrible’ is a hundred feet tall,” an onlooker bellowed, supporting Helmut’s position.
          “I’m open to suggestions,” Gustav said. “Can anyone think of a way to defeat the giant?”
           A little boy named Hans made his way to the front of the group.
          “Why don’t we just move away from here?” he suggested.
          “Who let this lad speak?” Gustav growled.
            “No…wait…he has a point,” Helmut Klunk agreed. “Why do we need to stay in a village if we know it’s going to be ravaged every year. We could build a new life elsewhere…someplace the giant couldn’t find us.”
          The crowd came to life. There was a buzz of energy amongst the villagers, the likes of which they’d never been seen before
          “Hans is right!” an old lady exclaimed.
          “The boy’s a genius,” the town cobbler added.
          “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow we’ll make preparations to leave this village,” Gustav declared. “‘Vin the Horrible’ can do as he pleases with what we leave behind.”
          The people cheered, and a night of celebration ensued. The next morning, every man, woman, and child went to work, gathering up all the valuables from Maryville. By the end of the day it was done. They were ready to move.
          After a good night’s sleep, a caravan of people made their way from the barren town, leaving the picturesque village at the mercy of the evil giant.

                                                              ***

          ‘Vin the Horrible’ grumbled as he stomped his way toward the snowy valley. Towering above the mountains, he surveyed the landscape, a perplexed expression adorning his gruff face.
          “Where are you?” he snarled, staring down upon the empty streets.
          Angered by things being out of order, he reached forth and clasped his monstrous hand onto one of the buildings, ripping it from the ground and hoisting it into the air.
        “Are you in here?” he asked, gazing into the windows.
         Seeing no one, he put it aside and grabbed the Inn, tearing the largest structure in the community away with one quick swipe.
       “Surely there’s someone hiding in here,” he roared.
         There was no one to be found.
        “Mary Lou!” he shouted, shaking the entire landscape.
         “What is it, Vin?” his wife asked, making her way into the room.
         “I’m putting the snow village away until next year, and I can’t find the plastic figurines. Have you done something with them?”
        “Why would I move the people, Vin?” Mary Lou asked. “We have a billion grandkids. Maybe they got a hold of them?”
         “I think this should be the last year for the snow village,” he griped. “There’s too many Christmas decorations in our house as it is.”
           “That’s fine by me, Honey. I hate crawling around hooking up all the lights, anyway.”

                                                                 *****

          “Did you hear that, Gustav?” Helmut Klunk asked from his position on the carpet, behind a table leg. “It looks like we got out just in time.”
            “Yeah,” Gustav said, wiping his brow, “but where do we go from here?”