Saturday, January 03, 2015

Excerpt: The Boy and His Corpse by Richard B Knight


~Book Details~

Title: A Boy & His Corpse
Author: Richard B Knight
Series: Stand Alone
Genre: YA Horror Comedy
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: Sept 24 2014
Edition/Format Available In: eBook & Print

~Blurb/Synopsis~

Like any fifteen-year-old, Alan Chandler has to deal with the horrors of adolescence—social awkwardness, joblessness, and a father who drives him nuts. But there are some not-so-typical horrors too: His father’s job is to resurrect people as anti-terrorist soldiers. Even though his father keeps warning him that the day will come when he’ll need to take over the family business, Alan is more interested in starting an Undead Wrestling Federation—if only he could keep a corpse on its feet for more than a minute at a time.
Meanwhile, troubles are brewing in the Middle East. A mad dictator threatens to start World War III, and Alan knows that if his father leaves for war, he won’t be coming back. Not alive anyway. With the future at stake, Alan must choose between his adolescent dreams and becoming the leader his father needs him to be. He needs to find himself and understand how his powers work...before it’s too late.

~Book Links~

Goodreads | Amazon US Kindle | Amazon US Print | Amazon UK Kindle | Amazon UK Print

~Excerpt~


Mr. Rovas backed into the table and then slowly walked to the other side of it, putting a corpse between them. Herbert watched his shape with slit eyes through the lemony mist. 
“Alan isn’t going to have any kind of future whatsoever with something like this,” Herbert said, inching forward. He felt hot and tingly all over and slowly edged closer to him like a mummy movie from the ‘40s
“You better stay where you are and think about this, Herbert,” Mr. Rovas said, reaching over the corpse and picking up the joystick. “I don’t want to have to hurt you. You’ve been an asset to this team and I don’t want any bad blood between us.” 
“An asset to the team? I AM the team,” Herbert said, and without even raising his hand, three of the corpses sat up. He controlled them by simply raising his eyebrows. Their hands, like his own, were fists. 
“Herbert, I swear to God, I’m warning you,” Mr. Rovas said, pulling down on the joystick to no avail. “I’m just doing what’s best for the team. What’s best for you!” 
The three corpses, one thick and tall, one skinny, and one plum-shaped, got off the table and started slowly advancing toward Mr. Rovas, who continued to back up. 
“Don’t make me do it, Herbert. So help me God, don’t make me do it.”
Somewhere in that fuzzy head of his, Herbert wondered, Do what? But all he saw was green. His world was lost in hatred. 
“That’s it, you leave me no choice!” Mr. Rovas shouted. He shoved his hand in his coat pocket, shook it about, and suddenly, gray handles sprung up on his shoulders. In five separate snapping pieces, a backpack formed on his back and a long, gray hose formed in his hands with a red canister beneath it. A mask composed itself over his face with protective eye gear and a patch for his mouth. He now cradled a flamethrower. 
The hose coughed twice, letting out little bursts of flame, before shooting out a fireball in the third puff. The plum-shaped corpse went up in flames instantly, waving his arms up and down as a silent scream left his mouth. Herbert felt the impact like a punch in the heart. Hell burned its way up his legs to his face. 
The corpse threw its arms about spastically until it fell to the ground, its body in cinders. 
The two corpses fell to ground and Herbert went to his knees. “Please, don’t hurt me,” he said. 
Herbert watched the man’s heavy black boots cross the floor. He felt a stream of heat erupt over his head. The mask came off and Mr. Rovas’ voice was thick with hatred. 
“I told you not to mess with me, and now look what you made me do! You’re not in control, Herbert! I AM. Just as I’ve always been! Do you hear me, Herbert? Do you hear me?!” 
Herbert watched the flames in Mr. Rovas’ eyes. The sadistic man chuckled in amusement.


~Author Information~

Richard B. Knight (The "B" stands for "Brandon") teaches Language Arts during the day and writes fiction at night. He decided that he wanted to be a novelist back in the fourth grade. It was all quite spontaneous. Back then, his teacher asked all of the students what they wanted to be when they grew up, and while many students chose "doctor", or "lawyer", or "astronaut", Richard, wanting to be funny, chose "drag queen garbage man". It wasn't until his peers starting reading off their choices that Richard decided that it would probably behoove him to write down another profession. He has stuck with "novelist" ever since.

Richard has a love of movies, video games, and comic books, and all three influences come through in his writing. He currently lives in Clifton, New Jersey with his lovely wife, Rona.

~Author Links~

FacebookGoodreadsTwitter

No comments:

Post a Comment