Check out a spooky new season of short stories on The Shadow Storytellers website, or wherever you listen to podcasts.
We also have a merch store now!
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Check out a spooky new season of short stories on The Shadow Storytellers website, or wherever you listen to podcasts. We also have a merch store now!
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 Happy Holidays! All December, Matt and I have been telling Christmas ghost and ghost-adjacent stories on The Shadow Storytellers. Today's episode is the 4th and final one before we return to non-seasonal tales of terror in January, so it's a great time to binge the set if you want to fit in some last-minute festive chills. Ghost stories are an old Christmas Eve tradition, and they're typically best told around a warm fireplace, but of course you can also enjoy ours while wrapping presents, traveling, baking, or taking care of whatever last-minute tasks are on your list. They're completely free to listen to and currently ad-free as well. "Something Else Is Coming to Town" A young boy's attempts to catch Santa in the act inadvertently release a horrifying darkness into the world. "The Gingerbread's the Thing" An amateur baker/necromancer creates a haunted gingerbread house to get to the bottom of her sister’s untimely death. "Don't Ruin It" Specters reach across the ether to crash a Christmas Eve family dinner, but their powers to terrorize have nothing on That One Uncle. "'Til the Merry End" A recently deceased mall Santa arranges for a Christmas miracle. Click the titles to stream directly from The Shadow Storytellers website, or come find us on whatever podcast platform you like: Apple Podcasts Breaker Castbox Goodpods Google Podcasts iHeartRadio PlayerFM Pocketcasts Podbean Podcast Addict Reason Spotify Stitcher We hope these Christmas ghost stories bring some spice to your season, as they have to ours! Halloween is right around the corner, and what better way to celebrate than by dimming the lights and listening to some spooky new stories? Wait, did I say, "listening to"? Oh yes. Matt and I are trying something different this season. In a few weeks, we're going to be launching our very own speculative fiction anthology podcast, called The Shadow Storytellers. On this new weekly show, we'll be sharing some of our creepiest, most bizarre and fun short stories for your listening pleasure. All of the content is brand new or never-before-shared, and we've been having a whole lot of fun bringing it to life in audio form. As huge fans of horror and sci-fi anthologies like The Twilight Zone, Tales from the Crypt and Creepshow, we really could not be more excited to share this project with you. The Shadow Storytellers first episode will go live on Wednesday, October 6th, 2021, with new episodes airing weekly afterward. If you want to make sure not to miss any updates on the show, use the panel on the right to sign up for email notifications or update your preferences to specifically include The Shadow Storytellers as one of your interests. For more information, please check out The Shadow Storytellers website.  Stories carry with them great power, They can transport us into the light, and into the dark… And into a place in between, a land of shadows… It is in this land where the macabre and the strange reign, With tales of terror Tales of hope Tales of the whimsical And the weird These are stories told in the shadows And we are the Shadow Storytellers. See you in the shadows! Hey, everyone, I dearly hope, as you read this, you're in good health and hunkering down somewhere safe and warm if you can. If you or someone you know is sick, I wish you a speedy, uncomplicated recovery. If you're on the front lines providing healthcare, food, utilities, household essentials, shipping, sanitation, and other life-saving services, I thank you, and I hope from the bottom of my heart that you'll finally, miraculously receive the living wages and all-around consideration you've always deserved for the work you do. As a writer, editor, and voracious reader, I'm one of the lucky ones in all this. I'm used to working from home alongside my husband, and apart from worrying about other people, fending off existential dread about the world, and nursing some disappointment over a few specific events I was looking forward to, I actually enjoy the day-to-day of quarantine living. Like many purveyors of digital media, Matt and I are cutting prices and offering new freebies, in the hopes that everyone will have access to something fun to pass the time in isolation — preferably something that doesn't require going to a store or waiting on our overstretched physical shipping infrastructure. If this isn't the time to read an ebook, I don't know what is. If you've already read all of our indie books that you're interested in, or if Horror and dark Sci-Fi just aren't what you turn to in times like these (they are for me, but it's a totally personal thing), I recommend checking out the Smashwords Authors Give Back sale for tons of different indie options across genres. As for our catalogue, here are the details on discounts and freebies:  Obsessed monster hunter, Mina Todd, and easy-going skeptic, Ben Pastor, wage a secret resistance against the shape-shifting aliens infesting their small town of Prospero. The whole 4-book Prospero Chronicles series is marked down from $9.96 to $3.96 through the end of March. (Amazon doesn't allow individual non-KU books to be marked down any further than $0.99 on short notice). Amazon Smashwords Barnes & Noble: book 1, 2, 3, 4 Apple: book 1, 2, 3, 4 Kobo: book 1, 2, 3, 4 This YA Horror/Sci-Fi series is about neurotic, mismatched teens struggling to trust each other so they can deal with an alien invasion of shapeshifters. The fourth book involves their entire town being quarantined while they fight for the fate of the world, and it might be my favorite thing I've done so far.  Once upon a time, on a glamorous space station called Eris, there was a young woman who could spin base metals into gold… At least, that’s what she tells people to separate them from their money. The Acid Test of Naia Mills is going to be free on Kindle from March 30th through April 3rd (using my KU allowance of free days). Also, if you're a KU member, you can read it for free whenever you want. Amazon This one's a Sci-Fi retelling of "Rumpelstiltskin" set in the distant future, after humanity has survived the death of Earth and joined a wider bi-galactic community. Not without growing pains, of course. It's part of the Escape Velocity series of Sci-Fi folktales, but they can be read in any order. No cliffhangers, no reliance on previous installment info.  Once upon a time, on the second planet from Apocrytus, there was a monster whose face men trembled to behold… Or they would, if they knew who she was. Perhaps she should leave more survivors The Kryssitid Gaze will be free on Kindle from April 6th through April 10th (again, my limited allowance of free days from KU). It's also included with your KU subscription if you have one. Amazon It's another Sci-Fi folktale retelling in the Escape Velocity universe, this one based on the legend of Medusa. It's more R-rated and darkly comedic than Acid Test, revolving around an alien woman's efforts to survive when her planet is overtaken by a violent, dogmatic cult. Tonally, I'd describe it as Deadpool meets Ginger Snaps.  When an aspiring teenage actress is given the chance to participate in human trials for a revolutionary new beauty supplement, she sees her one chance for a camera-ready body and a real career. But what the treatment turns her into may be even more monstrous and cutthroat than her professional world. Some Side Effects May Occur will be marked down from $2.99 to $1.20, both as part of the Smashwords sale and on Amazon, from now through April 20th. Amazon Smashwords It's YA Horror/Sci-Fi set in the not-too-distant future, during a beauty arms race.  When the ghost of a handsome young man named Joshua Thorne appears to a lonely bookworm named Angela, begging her to help him solve his own murder, she follows him eagerly into the hidden world of jumbled memory and fantasy he calls the Pocket. The truth of his story is hidden there somewhere, but it might not be the story either of them is hoping for. Out of the Pocket is also going to be marked down from $2.99 to $1.20 from now through April 20th, both in the Smashwords sale and on Amazon. Amazon Smashwords This is the YA Fantasy that won me my Feminist Book of the Month author cred :) It's a satirical, trope-subverting take on Paranormal Romance, and it's intensely claustrophobic.  Fifteen-year-old Cassie Fremont and her tiny band of teenage survivors take a road trip across the zombie-infested U.S. to rescue their stranded friend, and no amount of blood and guts along the way will quell their sense of snark. Now, if only they knew how to drive. My first-ever published novel, Confessions of the Very First Zombie Slayer (That I Know Of), will be free on Smashwords only, from now until April 20th. Smashwords It's a YA Horror-Comedy that I don't usually do promotions on, because I'm quite frankly a little embarrassed. It's easily my roughest, most juvenile published work, but it's also been one of my more popular, and I figure, maybe some silly zombie-smashing action is exactly what's needed. So, I'm tossing it out there for all who could use it right now. That's all for now, although there's a chance I'll be announcing a new indie release as well before all this is even close to over. Stay safe, and happy reading.  So I know I've been a bit of a ghost lately, but I promise, there's a good reason. Better yet, that reason is finally ready to share. I've been working on a new series of sci-fi folktale retellings called Escape Velocity: Feminist Folktales from Beyond the Stars. I use the term "series" in the loosest sense. These novellas will all take place within the same sci-fi universe, involving many of the same planets and alien species, but each one will be a self-contained reimagining of a specific fairy tale, myth, or legend. Start anywhere, stop anywhere, no risk of cliffhangers. How many of these there might ultimately be depends on you guys. If you like them, tell me! More importantly, tell all your friends! There are plenty more folktales out there itching for an overhaul involving badass ladies and laser weapons. If these are a hit, I might even get Matt in on the fun too. For now, I've got two of these bad girls on the shelves today. That's right, no countdown. I've been neglecting my reviews, my social media, (my laundry, my loved ones...) all for the sake of getting these ready to enter in the 2019 Kindle Storyteller contest, which closes for entries at the end of August. I made it! And just in time for Women's Equality Day, too! What this means for you is that you can read these right now, and if you're a Kindle Unlimited subscriber, you can do it for free. (If not, they're only a buck each.) If you prefer to go old school, paperback editions are coming in a few days as well. Without further ado, let's take a look at my new lovelies!  Once upon a time, on a glamorous space station called Eris, there was a young woman who could spin base metals into gold… At least, that’s what she tells people to separate them from their money. Naia Mills is a con artist, a Human orphan scraping to get by in a galaxy that doesn’t want her, more than a century after her ancestors rendered the Earth uninhabitable. She travels the stars selling fake gold jewelry and elixirs, until the day she unknowingly swindles the son of a space station commander. Now confined to the station and threatened with a slow death in a radioactive penal colony, Naia has three days to buy her way to freedom with an impossible act of alchemy. Eager to get out from under his father’s thumb, and fascinated with Naia’s profession, the commander’s son is an easy dupe and willing accomplice, but to get their hands on the gold they both need to escape, they’ll have to make a deal with the local mob, and a queenpin so powerful and private that even her closest associates don’t know her name. (Click here to read on Kindle) I've always wanted to adapt "Rumpelstiltskin." I honestly don't know why Disney hasn't gotten around to it yet; it's well-known and brimming with potential. For one thing, its princess comes about as close to saving herself as the Grimms' heroines ever do. Of course, in my version, her shot at survival comes in the form of an identity theft caper, and she'll have to decide what it's worth to her to save the prince as well.  Once upon a time, on the second planet from Apocrytus, there was a monster whose face men trembled to behold… Or they would, if they knew who she was. Perhaps she should leave more survivors. Meligora lives for revenge, but it’s not as dreary as she thought it would be. Her old life ended when the Brotherhood took control of her planet and started rounding up women for mandatory “conversion,” removing their stingers, wings, and most of their eyes, looting their bodies for their valuable reproductive organs, and leaving them docile shells of their former selves. But after her own botched procedure turned her into a lethal weapon instead of a slave, she learned to make the best of things, bending Brotherhood enforcers to her will and slaughtering them in droves each night. She knows it’s only a matter of time before someone tries to stop her, but when a young Human bounty hunter finally follows her trail of corpses, he offers her a choice: stay a wanted killer of dime-a-dozen thugs, or join him in tracking down the man who mutilated her. (Click here to read on Kindle) Unlike "Rumpelstiltskin," I picked the legend of Medusa because of how abjectly horrible and in need of fixing the original story is. Seriously, look it up. Or don't, if you want to continue having a good day. Naturally, I took a lot more liberties with this one, and the result is an intense yet fun revenge fantasy that I'd roughly quantify as a blend of Deadpool, Aliens, and Ginger Snaps. I'd also unreservedly call it my most bizarre work to date. So that's that! For today, anyway. Thanks for checking out what I've been up to this summer, and if I've sufficiently intrigued you, happy reading! (Note: because these are on Kindle Unlimited, they're not available in digital form anywhere other than Amazon. However, if you're interested in writing a review and aren't set up for mobi files, email me.) On this, the eve of the release of Almost Infamous, Matt's countdown of sneak peaks into the world of the supers draws to a close, with an introduction to the unlikely super who's about to shake the world. Superheroes have been a part of everyday life for more than a hundred years. They star in movies, grace advertisements, walk the red carpet, and occasionally save a life or two. Empires have risen and fallen because of them, and time after time they have saved Earth from certain annihilation. And they have become irrelevant. With supervillains effectively extinct, superheroes have become idle and are in danger of losing their funding and their livelihoods. Fearing this, a team of heroes have come up with a drastic plan: to create a team of supervillains who answer only to them, staging crimes so they will have someone to fight. These are the stories of the men, women and monsters who take part in this dangerous program. These are Almost Infamous: Origins. Previously on Almost Infamous: Origins: Prospects, Unwanted, Torches and Pitchforks, The Redcape, Family Business, Villain Worship, Anger Management, Flawless Victory, Are You Now or Have You Ever Been, Nothing Fancy, and On the Town. Almost Infamous: Aidan Begins By Matt Carter Aidan Hacklin's Hall, Indiana, USA My little brother, Andy, had gotten another award for some reason. It might have been athletic, or academic, or possibly one of those “everybody gets an award” days that always tended to run out of awards just before I would’ve gotten one; it didn’t matter. Andy got an award, and that was reason to celebrate. Andy waking up in the morning seemed to be enough reason for my parents to celebrate. Meanwhile, should I ever do anything worth celebrating, all I’d get was a pat on the back. If I was lucky. Then again, occasions where I’d done anything worth celebrating were pretty few and far between. And so, because we had to celebrate, Mom and Dad let Andy choose any place he wanted for dinner, and as always he chose the Super Pizza Adventure in South Bend. I didn’t see why we had to drive an hour to a stupid kiddie pizza place just because my brother got another stupid award that wouldn’t mean anything by the time he graduated high school. I didn’t see why everything had to be so easy for everyone and why everything had to be so hard for me and why the universe just didn’t work out for me like it did for everyone else and why, why, why this all had to happen when I had such a bad headache. I texted Vic from the car. I guess you could say he was my best friend. Aidan: This bites. Vic: Super Pizza Adventure? Their pizza sux, but I can tell you how to cheat at skeeball if you wants. Aidan: No thanks. Vic: Or that if you look up the skirt of Super Sally you can see her thong. Aidan: That’s a robot you know. Of a large fluffy bear. Vic: Don’t mean she doesn’t have a thong. I read it online. Aidan: You really gotta stop doing that. Vic: Thong watching? Aidan: Going online. “Aidan, honey, put that away. This is your brother’s night, and I don’t want you taking away from it by being on your phone all evening,” Mom said. “But, Mom!” I protested. “Listen to your mother, son,” Dad said. I felt like a political prisoner. I just got this new Edgetech phone, top of the line, loaded with games and apps and finally got more people’s numbers on it than just my family, and they wouldn’t let me use it? I was pretty sure villains in the Tower at least had access to phones. Andy looked at me, smug, “It’s all right, Mom and Dad, I say that if Aidan wants to use his phone, he can.” I could have both punched him in the head and hugged him right then, but since both of them would have made him scream and punch me in the head, I didn’t. “Sorry, kiddo, but we’re almost to Super Pizza Adventure, and after that it’s all phones away,” Dad said. “But what if I get a text?” Andy asked. “Well, sure, it is your night,” Mom said. Injustice. Plain and simple. But would I get up and say anything about it? Would I fight for what was right? Of course I wouldn’t. Because I was Aidan Salt, the inconsequential. Even if I said anything, nothing would have happened, so what would the point be? # At least Super Pizza Adventure was a lot of fun, even with my headache and all the injustice I had heaped upon me. I couldn’t let anyone see that, because I wanted them to know that I was still angry, but I couldn’t help the childlike glee that always came with coming here. It was a kiddie place through and through, made up to look like what a five-year-old would think a superhero’s base would look like and populated with wandering and occasionally singing cartoon-like animals dressed as heroes (some of them people in costumes, some of them really convincing robots). They must’ve thought Andy was here for a birthday, because three of the robots (a bear, a bunny and an alligator made to look like a villain) crowded around him and sang him a non-copyrighted birthday song. For his part, Andy didn’t do anything to make them think otherwise. With all the attention on him, it was easy to sneak off and play some games. I didn’t text Vic for his foolproof method of cheating at skeeball (though I kinda wished I had), but I did a pretty good job I think, getting a fair few tickets. At least until the machine jammed. I just got a ball clean in the 1,000 points hole, hardest in the whole game. That should’ve come with a whole stack of tickets, enough to actually get something resembling a respectable prize. But I could see the corner of a ticket lodged diagonally in the machine, hear the tickets grinding to a halt behind it. It figured. The way this day was going, I should’ve seen it coming, especially with my headache making things worse. I had to go find someone, had to get the tickets that were rightly mine, had to make this goddamn machine play nice. At once, the headache seemed to spread to my whole body, an annoying, tingly ache that spread from the tip of my nose to the ends of my toes. And then at once, almost like a tickle, it seemed to pop, disappearing and leaving me completely clear. With that, the housing of the skeeball ticket machine popped open, dented outward, hundreds of tickets pouring out. I yelped in surprise, but then made to grab as many tickets as I could that unspooled, cramming them in my pocket before anyone could see, and get the hell out of here. Now headache free and carrying a stack of tickets that I’d add to my bin at home (I’d been saving up for a video game for some time), I was thinking that this day was about to make a turnaround. Screw Andy’s accomplishment, I was on a roll. And then the thought hit me. It was a small thought, a passing notion that I tried to ignore but couldn’t entirely. What if I did that? It was stupid thinking. I wasn’t super. I couldn’t be. I hadn’t been exposed to anything toxic or alien or been experimented on by a scientist, and I sure as hell couldn’t be a super from birth, because powers like that pretty much always manifested at puberty, and here I was about to graduate high school. There was no way I could be special. I just wasn’t that lucky. I couldn’t be. I was Aidan Salt and I was always destined to be Aidan Salt, pointlessness personified. I could dream of being a superhero, sure, just like I could dream about hooking up with Kelly Shingle (Hacklin’s Hall High School’s finest) or dream of winning the lottery, but none of these things were going to happen, because I just wasn’t the kind of guy that it happened to. These things happened to more interesting people than me. Better people. People who had a destiny. So, yeah, the machine popped open right when I got pissed at it, and my headache went away at the same time. Coincidence, it had to be. Some mechanical failure, or maybe some passing super saw how frustrated I was and decided to take pity on me, or perhaps did it just to give me false hope, a dream that I had a superpower I clearly could not have. That made much more sense. Even so, all through the car ride home, I couldn’t help but think that this might be that one time, that one infinitesimally rare time, that something good might have happened to me. Better than getting a new car or finally losing my virginity (though both of those would’ve been pretty sweet), this was the sort of thing that could change my life. If I had superpowers, I could be someone special, the kind of person that people finally would take notice of. A better person than Aidan Salt. It wasn’t possible, but it might be. Right? Didn’t the universe owe me that chance? I had to find out. I had to be sure. We’d just arrived home, pulled in our driveway, everyone getting out and ready to come down after such a great evening celebrating Andy. I was trying to draw together that feeling I had when I was pissed at the skeeball machine, and I thought I might have it. An intense tingling that went all throughout my body, a sensation that I could suddenly feel everything around me, not just me. The knowledge that I was about to become something so much greater than I currently was, that my life was about to change. Focus. I had to send that focus somewhere, and the focus just happened to find our mailbox. It exploded, peeling itself outward like a banana while shards of metal and bits of torn mail flew every which way. Mom screamed and ran, and Dad looked stunned. Andy ran in the house, crying and whining that his celebration had been ruined. His celebration may have ended, but mine was just beginning. Hands shaking with giddiness and figuring the phone ban was long over, I texted Vic. Aidan: You won’t believe what I just did…  Eighteen-year-old Aidan Salt isn’t a superhero. With his powerful (and unpredictable) telekinetic abilities he could be one if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He’s unambitious, selfish, and cowardly, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with all the paperwork required to become a professional superhero. But since the money, fame, and women that come with wearing the cape are appealing, he decides to become the first supervillain the world has seen in more than twenty years: Apex Strike. However, he soon finds villainy in a world where the heroes have long since defeated all the supervillains. While half the world’s heroes seem to want him dead, the other half want to hire him as their own personal villain to keep them relevant. Choosing the latter course, Aidan enters a world of fame, fortune, and staged superhero fights that is seemingly everything he ever dreamed of . . . at least until he sees what truly hides behind the cape-and-mask lifestyle. Almost Infamous will be released on April 19th, 2016, from Talos Press. Find it wherever books are sold (including the Amazon link so helpfully included here and in the cover above). Once again, to celebrate the countdown to the release of Almost Infamous, Matt's sharing this series of sneak peaks into the world of the supers. Keep watching here or on his homepage as the day draws closer! Superheroes have been a part of everyday life for more than a hundred years. They star in movies, grace advertisements, walk the red carpet, and occasionally save a life or two. Empires have risen and fallen because of them, and time after time they have saved Earth from certain annihilation. And they have become irrelevant. With supervillains effectively extinct, superheroes have become idle and are in danger of losing their funding and their livelihoods. Fearing this, a team of heroes have come up with a drastic plan: to create a team of supervillains who answer only to them, staging crimes so they will have someone to fight. These are the stories of the men, women and monsters who take part in this dangerous program. These are Almost Infamous: Origins. Previously on Almost Infamous: Origins: Prospects, Unwanted, Torches and Pitchforks, The Redcape, Family Business, Villain Worship, Anger Management, Flawless Victory, Are You Now or Have You Ever Been, and Nothing Fancy. Almost Infamous: On the Town By Matt Carter Helios Hollywood, California, USA It’s not easy being a superhero, but it is pretty fucking awesome. Most of the time. Times have changed and we have to change with them. We’re not living in a day when all you have to do to be a hero is wear a super suit and save the occasional kitten from a tree or put out a fire, though it doesn’t hurt to do that periodically. These days, it’s all about image. You can’t just come in and save the day and hope for that to be enough if you want to be relevant. No, you need to put yourself out there. You need to be visible. You need to be a master of media both old and new, how to give interviews, how best to make use of the constantly shifting world of social media, and how to stay in the public eye in ways beyond conventional heroics. Some of us are into the stage, or music, or modeling, or maybe even charity work. I prefer film, myself. I gloriously look the part, after all, and my powers of strength, flight, telekinesis and energy projection are rather camera ready and, dare I sound blasphemous, godlike, wouldn’t you think? I fight hard to be what I am, and I take care of myself. No fewer than two hours out of my daily routine are dedicated to exercise and grooming, and since you probably won’t have heard of half the stuff I do (and wouldn’t be able to even pronounce half of that), I won’t bore you with the details. I eat a calorically modest diet and I generally don’t drink or do drugs to excess, but I allow myself indulgences periodically because what’s the point of life if you cannot live it? Though I may not be the greatest superhero alive today (a title that will likely always be held by El Capitán), I aspire to be a symbol. Someone people can look up to. And not just little people, either, but other heroes. Take Icicle Man, for instance. He’s only been in the heroing game for about four years now, and boy is he green. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good friend, and he’s great at what he does, I’ve never met a better cryokinetic, but he lacks discipline and vision. Though a full Protector, he’s only what I’d call a good hero. Let me tell you how I started to make him great. ------------ It all started after he froze that paparazzo solid. We’d just left Modesto’s Keep, greatest club in Hollywood (I know the owner, nice guy), just the two of us, guys’ night out (no girlfriends, though plenty of girls inside willing to ignore that). He’d had a little too much to drink, one of his many vices, and though I’d imbibed, I found my feet with greater ease than him. We were walking down the outer stairs of the levitating club, him singing some inane K-pop song he’d made famous back home, when we got to the usual throng of paparazzi that separated us from our limo. Now, unlike most celebrities, I understand the necessity of the paparazzi. They’re vultures to be sure, the kind of scum who deserve to burn in every level of hell for the sake of variety, but they do their jobs well. They follow us around and take our pictures, acting as some of the greatest free press agents you can imagine, while also giving us a peek at just how in demand we are (the more of them stalking you, the more popular you are). Depending on how much of a bad boy image you want to cultivate and how much money you have (or free time for community service), you can beat them up periodically. Do your penance, say you’ll never do it again, wait an appropriate length of time and do it again. I’ve got too good a relationship with the press to do this very often, but Icicle Man, he acts like a bad boy, which is a shame, because a) it’s not something he aims for, and b) he’s got too much of a babyface for the part. If it was something he meant to do, he could maybe pull it off, but it’s not. He lets himself be ruled by real, human emotion, and that’s death in this job. You’re either constantly vigilant, or you’re nothing. Now where was I? Right. Paparazzi. We were walking through the throng, camera flashes in our eyes and the usual questions and provocative statements meant to get a reaction from us flying around. I flashed my brilliant smile, I made good with them, even managed to namedrop my currently filming project a couple times and apologize for not being able to offer spoilers. Icicle Man, surly and drunk, wouldn’t even deign them that, which is cool, people can do whatever they want. Sometimes he’d jerk, look like he wanted to strike them, but I’d hold him back, keep the smiles going, keep him from getting too cold. And then one of them just shouted, “Any truth to the rumors you’re gay?” In point of fact, Icicle Man isn’t, but he does have his own sexual predilections that are better kept private (private enough that they’d make the team look really bad), and he’s pretty touchy when it comes to anyone talking about them. So I couldn’t entirely blame the guy when he raised a hand at the paparazzo and froze him solid in a block of ice. This was one of those rare moments where you got to see the rest of them act like people, running and screaming instead of just standing there taking pictures and trying to provoke us (not that they didn’t start doing the same when they got to what they thought was a safe distance). I entered damage control mode quickly, taking off and hovering a few feet off the ground. I melted the ice with the energy beams from my hands, telekinetically breaking the rest apart when I got the frosty (and terrified) paparazzo free. “You should’ve let him freeze,” Icicle Man said. “Quiet, and let the master work,” I said, flying over to the paparazzi and the crowd that had gathered. Usually, I had writers for my best speeches, but on this occasion I was willing to improvise. I was always pretty good in my improv classes, after all (as any good superhero should be). “Gentlemen, please forgive my friend here. As superheroes we should aspire to be above such base instincts as anger, but in this instance, can you entirely blame Icicle Man? Day in and day out we fight for your freedom, and if you’ll pardon my crudity, freedom is pretty fucking heavy. It’s such a great weight that sometimes we bend and snap under it in ways we cannot predict and do not mean. So do not blame Icicle Man, blame those who would threaten your freedom for placing the weight on his shoulders,” I said. This seemed to get some of their attention, but not enough. Time to sweeten the pot. “Tell you what, guys, we’re on our way to another club. Stick around us, and shots are on me!” I yelled. This got a much better response, as I knew it would. The first speech was for my image. The shots offer was to get them off my back. Icicle Man’s image for the night wouldn’t be in great condition, but he’d survive, at least until someone else fucked up even more. I flew back over to him. He looked up at me sulkily. “Why’d you do that? Why’d you play their game?” he asked. “Because, like it or not, we’re not the only people in the world. We need them to make us great, whether you like it or not. Now pull your act the fuck together. We’re going to hit another club, we’re going to buy those assholes some shots, and we’re going to make it such an awesome party that they won’t even try and remember that you nearly killed one of them tonight,” I said. “But their cameras?” he asked. “Way ahead of you,” I said, quickly texting one of the Protectors’ lawyers. Cybernetic implants kept her from ever having to sleep (and she was a bit sweet on me), so I knew I could get her to suppress this from becoming a thing by the time all the paparazzi sobered up. “This’d be a whole lot easier if I could just kill some bad guys,” Icicle Man said. He had a point there, not that I could tell him that. There were people, myself included, who had some plans to fix that, plans to make our very own supervillains to change the status quo, to prove to the world how desperately we really were needed. I liked Icicle Man, well enough, and he was my friend, but with a head like his, he couldn’t really be trusted with something like that. Not yet at least. But if I kept him under my wing, taught him the ways of the world, maybe he could be brought in. “It would be, wouldn’t it? But we can’t predict when, or if, the villains will ever rise again. What we can do is be the best damn heroes possible. Ask my why,” I said. “Why?” he asked. “Because if you make people do what you want them to do, make them behave as you think they ought to, they will naturally resist. However, if you are someone they aspire to be, a hero to them, you won’t have to tell them what to do for you, because they’ll already be doing it without you needing to ask. Inspire that kind of devotion and you can slake your lusts and rages on them periodically without any fear of repercussions or need to clean up like I did for you tonight. Do you understand?” I asked. He smiled, “I think I will when I sober up.” “Good boy. There might be hope for you yet,” I said, laughing.  Eighteen-year-old Aidan Salt isn’t a superhero. With his powerful (and unpredictable) telekinetic abilities he could be one if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He’s unambitious, selfish, and cowardly, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with all the paperwork required to become a professional superhero. But since the money, fame, and women that come with wearing the cape are appealing, he decides to become the first supervillain the world has seen in more than twenty years: Apex Strike. However, he soon finds villainy in a world where the heroes have long since defeated all the supervillains. While half the world’s heroes seem to want him dead, the other half want to hire him as their own personal villain to keep them relevant. Choosing the latter course, Aidan enters a world of fame, fortune, and staged superhero fights that is seemingly everything he ever dreamed of . . . at least until he sees what truly hides behind the cape-and-mask lifestyle. Almost Infamous will be released on April 19th, 2016, from Talos Press. Find it wherever books are sold (including the Amazon link so helpfully included here and in the cover above). Once again, to celebrate the countdown to the release of Almost Infamous, Matt's sharing this series of sneak peaks into the world of the supers. Keep watching here or on his homepage as the day draws closer! Superheroes have been a part of everyday life for more than a hundred years. They star in movies, grace advertisements, walk the red carpet, and occasionally save a life or two. Empires have risen and fallen because of them, and time after time they have saved Earth from certain annihilation. And they have become irrelevant. With supervillains effectively extinct, superheroes have become idle and are in danger of losing their funding and their livelihoods. Fearing this, a team of heroes have come up with a drastic plan: to create a team of supervillains who answer only to them, staging crimes so they will have someone to fight. These are the stories of the men, women and monsters who take part in this dangerous program. These are Almost Infamous: Origins. Previously on Almost Infamous: Origins: Prospects, Unwanted, Torches and Pitchforks, The Redcape, Family Business, Villain Worship, Anger Management, Flawless Victory, and Are You Now or Have You Ever Been. Almost Infamous: Nothing Fancy By Matt Carter Nevermore Paris, France Aline was drunk, but not as drunk as she looked. It was the best way to do business after all. Stumbling around, splashing her drinks, dancing and making out with tourists in the club, making a great fool of herself. In short, a perfect distraction. With her the fool, it offered Claude and me the chance to sneak through the disorienting din of the club and separate the tourists from their wallets. The money and credit cards was much appreciated, but the ID’s and passports would net even more. We could never stay at the clubs too long this way, but we still had our fun. It was not my favorite way to spend a Saturday evening (I’d much prefer the clubs without the work), but we hadn’t had a good job in a while and needed some spending money.. Normally, we specialized in more high-end robberies than picking a few pockets, jobs where someone with my unique skillset could really make a difference. We may not have been the best in the business, but we did well enough for ourselves. “Ugh, I hate the commies, always so grabby,” Aline said, readjusting her top as we walked to the next club. “And they never have enough money,” I said, frowning as I sorted through our spoils of the evening. “You should try seducing American girls, Aline. They are never on their guard, and cannot take their liquor. Easy picking,” Claude said, smiling the smile that always made me look forward to getting him undressed later. Aline frowned, “No thanks, I still have my pride. Besides, American girls are more Ange-” I glared at her, and she quickly corrected herself, “-Nevermore’s style.” I nodded, smiling and puffing on my cigarette. Nevermore may not have been the name I was born with, but it suited me much better. I liked the dark. Not only did it suit me, but it was a fine place to hide when I was not having fun. This was more often than I would tell Claude or Aline or their friends or any of my other lovers, and that was how I liked it. I would smile, and I would be their friend, and I would party with them, but I would only allow myself to be as happy as I wanted to be. It helped prevent life’s greater disappointments. “Are they your style?” Claude asked, arching an eyebrow. He knew what was and wasn’t my style, and we’d shared enough men and women in our bed for him to know that, but he liked talking about it, and if it meant not scaring him away, I would indulge him. “American girls are fun, but not enough challenge. They’re drunk and on holiday in the most romantic city in the world, if you believe the travel brochures, and their inhibitions disappear. It is too easy. I much prefer their boyfriends,” I said. “And they are less of a challenge?” Claude said, looking me up and down. “In their way. When they are on holiday and they are looking for an affair or a casual one night stand, they have a particular image in their mind of the perfect French girl. Tall and pretty and blonde with an accent that’ll fuck you long before her mouth even touches you, like Aline,” I said. “Awww, thanks, Nevermore,” Aline said, pulling the cigarette from my mouth and kissing me swiftly on the lips. As usual, she used this as an excuse to keep my cigarette. I could have taken it back from her, but instead I just pulled another from my pack and lit it on hers. “They don’t come looking for me, not unless they’ve particular tastes, or are willing to take a walk on what they’d call the wild side, which few are, at first. Hence, the challenge,” I said. It was true, I was likely more beautiful than Aline, on my better days I was almost sure of it, but the tattoos I had covering close to 70% of my body had a way of scaring most men off. That’s what happens when you cover your body in tattoos representing each of Edgar Allen Poe’s greatest works. You didn’t fall for him because he was cheerful. Though I did fall for Claude for that reason, so what did I know? I’d had many lovers before I met Claude, but none of them stayed around like him. They would last barely more than a night, treating me as if I were a cheap whore because they could, and because I let them. Claude, though, he stayed. He had a dark sense of humor to him that appealed. It was a sense of humor that would often manifest as cruelty, but he rarely meant it beyond jest. He was kind more often than he was not, and he was fun when working and when off the clock. He was not the perfect man, but he was one I did not mind spending time with. Besides, he was the one who usually got us the good jobs. Usually. “I want to go home and sleep,” Aline grumbled. “It’s barely 1 am! Are you serious?” I asked. “Serious about getting out of these heels, yes,” she said. “Two more clubs, and we’ll call it a night,” Claude said. “One,” Aline pouted. “Two,” Claude said. “One and a half?” “Two,” Claude said, his voice losing all humor. Aline kept pouting, but she said no more. We’d both learned better than to get Claude’s temper up. Claude stopped, gripping my hand tightly. “Did you bring your costume, Nevermore?” he hissed. “No. I didn’t think it was that kind of work night,” I said. “It will be soon,” he said. I couldn’t see what he could, but that was nothing new. Claude’s X-ray vision made him an excellent thief and often let him see danger before it came. This time was no different. I could hear them before they rounded the corner. Hissing and laughing and boasting. Scalefaces. Lemurians. Tall and muscular and thoroughly unattractive, they were also incredibly dangerous in groups if they had a mind to be. Since we were not from Atlantis, it was unlikely they would strike us on general principle. But the way Claude was trying to turn tail and run, I did not think these were ordinary Lemurians. The first one barely rounded the corner before seeing us. He was dressed in human clothes, none of that gleaming armor the true scaleface warriors loved to wear to prove they still remember their home country. For a moment I thought Claude was overreacting. Then the scaleface cried out. “CLAUDE! YOU SON OF A BITCH, GIVE US OUR MONEY!” it yelled in shitty, hissing French, charging down the alley toward us. Claude shook himself out of my hand and took off running, Aline and her high heels not that far behind. I should have followed, but that was not what I did in situations like this. If I didn’t want to do it to impress Claude (which I always enjoyed doing), I did it because it was what I always did. I was our group’s muscle after all. Calmly, I stepped out of my heels and kicked them aside. I let my tattoos do the rest. A large, black, bladed pendulum burst from the tattoo on my chest, swinging down between the Lemurians and scattering them. Not ones to fear any battle, they skirted past the pendulum. A great black cat, as large and ferocious as a lion, burst from my arm, mauling and pinning the two scalefaces in front to the ground. The other two fought past it easily, running at me and shouting their hideous reptilian curses. This was not as clean a fight as I usually liked, I always liked to put on a bit of a show, but this time, keeping it simple would work. Before the final two could reach me, a great flock of ravens, cawing and scratching, surrounded them. They cried out and tried to fight the spectral horde summoned from my tattoos, and they could do nothing. I could have left them be, bloodied and confused, as Claude and Aline had already made their escape, and I could just as easily. But even though this fight was nothing fancy, I wanted to give it a grand finale that Claude would appreciate. I wanted to make the Lemurians know fear. Summoning an ax into my hands, I walked through the flock of ravens to the thrashing, fighting scalefaces. With all my tattoos animated, trying to burst through my skin as one, I must have looked a terrifying sight. The bloodied leader of the Lemurians looked at me with pure spite and said, “Stand back, she-witch, and let us claim what is ours!” With a dark smile, I said, “Nevermore.”  Eighteen-year-old Aidan Salt isn’t a superhero. With his powerful (and unpredictable) telekinetic abilities he could be one if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He’s unambitious, selfish, and cowardly, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with all the paperwork required to become a professional superhero. But since the money, fame, and women that come with wearing the cape are appealing, he decides to become the first supervillain the world has seen in more than twenty years: Apex Strike. However, he soon finds villainy in a world where the heroes have long since defeated all the supervillains. While half the world’s heroes seem to want him dead, the other half want to hire him as their own personal villain to keep them relevant. Choosing the latter course, Aidan enters a world of fame, fortune, and staged superhero fights that is seemingly everything he ever dreamed of . . . at least until he sees what truly hides behind the cape-and-mask lifestyle. Almost Infamous will be released on April 19th, 2016, from Talos Press. Find it wherever books are sold (including the Amazon link so helpfully included here and in the cover above). Once again, to celebrate the countdown to the release of Almost Infamous, Matt's sharing this series of sneak peaks into the world of the supers. Keep watching here or on his homepage as the day draws closer! Superheroes have been a part of everyday life for more than a hundred years. They star in movies, grace advertisements, walk the red carpet, and occasionally save a life or two. Empires have risen and fallen because of them, and time after time they have saved Earth from certain annihilation. And they have become irrelevant. With supervillains effectively extinct, superheroes have become idle and are in danger of losing their funding and their livelihoods. Fearing this, a team of heroes have come up with a drastic plan: to create a team of supervillains who answer only to them, staging crimes so they will have someone to fight. These are the stories of the men, women and monsters who take part in this dangerous program. These are Almost Infamous: Origins. Previously on Almost Infamous: Origins: Prospects, Unwanted, Torches and Pitchforks, The Redcape, Family Business, Villain Worship, Anger Management, and Flawless Victory. Almost Infamous: Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been By Matt Carter Spasm Belfast, Northern Ireland, British Empire In my short, short life I’ve spent a lot of time in interrogation rooms, enough to tell if the people doing the interrogating knew what they were doing or if they were just rank amateurs looking to rattle my cage. The people who’d caught me this time belonged to the former category. The room was a few degrees too hot, enough to cause a slight sweat but not enough to make you notice it terribly unless you were really feeling for it. The walls were featureless save for the door and a mirror that most certainly had a few men in official-looking suits standing on the other side of it, enjoying the sight of a young man sweating (perverts, probably). The lights were bright enough to be an irritation, but not so bright I couldn’t open my eyes, and the missing foot on my chair made it rock slightly. My chair was lower than those of the interrogators who’d be sitting across the table from me any moment now. I wasn’t handcuffed, which meant they were confident they didn’t need me handcuffed. All subtle cues, all telling me how much I needed to be on guard around these people. The door opened. A man and a woman walked in; the woman cold and professional in an immaculate business suit and carrying a briefcase, the man thin and tall with a moustache nearly as skinny as himself and a flesh-colored eyepatch over his right eye. This is what my eyes could tell me. When it came to people, though, eyes weren’t all I had. Like I could tell you that she was suffering from indigestion, and he had a strained left knee from what felt like a sports injury. He hadn’t slept very much, and she was on an upper of some sorts. Both of them had superpowers, both of them were completely calm, and both of them had the heartbeats of people who would kill me if they had to and wouldn’t lose much sleep over it. This I knew because I was a super with an excellent line on how people’s bodies worked and how to make them do what I wanted. This was also likely why I was here. “Thank you for your patience, Mr. Long. I am Lieutenant Bowman, this is Mr. Hastings, and we’re with the Ministry of Metahuman Concerns. Would you like a drink, perhaps, before we get started? Coffee? Tea? Iced water?” the woman asked as she sat down opposite me. Hastings didn’t leave his place by the door. The heat of the room made water tempting, but I wouldn’t let them see any weakness, “I would like to speak with an attorney.” “And if you were under arrest, you would have that option. But this here isn’t an arrest, it’s just an informal inquiry,” Bowman said, her smile pure ice. Hastings didn’t move from his spot by the door. “Then I’m free to go,” I said, standing and approaching the door. Hastings stood in front of it, his face impassive. “We didn’t say that. Things work differently in the Ministry, and with your status as a non-registered superhuman, you belong to us until we are satisfied we’re finished with you. Do you understand?” Bowman asked, never leaving her seat. “Piss off,” I said, raising a hand to Hastings. Something was wrong. He should have had a massive wave of drowsiness and walked out of my way, but he didn’t move. He barely budged. Traces of a smile grew at his lips. There was a feeling in my skull, a twitch, like someone reaching inside, peering around. “You’ll find Mr. Hastings’ gift is to neutralize the gifts of others, so while you are in this room, you are at our mercy,” she said. Not bloody likely. You think I don’t know you won’t let me leave this room? Just play their game and find an opening. I sat back down. “Much better,” Bowman said, opening her briefcase. She pulled out a laptop, opened it up and started typing. “Now before we begin, we have a few questions just to confirm some information. Need to make sure we dot all the I’s and cross every T, don’t we?” she asked, smiling. “Ask away,” I said. “Your full name?” “Liam Long.” “No middle name?” “No.” “Date of birth?” “I’m twenty-one, if that’s what you’re asking, but I was never given a proper actual birthdate.” “I see. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were a ward of the state?” “Until I escaped, yes.” “At age fifteen?” “Yes. Is that a crime?” “Technically speaking, yes, but since that’s not what my department covers, I’ll be more than happy to let you slide on this.” “Thank you. Now if you don’t mind my asking, if you have all the answers, why do you need me here?” I said. “We’re getting to that. Now, you are gainfully employed now, are you not?” Bowman asked. I smiled, “Yes. At St. Martin’s Flowers.” “Doing what, exactly?” “Sweeping up. Heavy lifting. Running the register from time to time. I’m not that brilliant at making arrangements, but I can make decent funeral wreaths when I must.” “Don’t you think that’s odd?” Bowman asked. “What is?” I asked. “Well, that with a superpower that grants you complete control over the human body, you just work as a shop boy? You could be a healer. You could be rich. And instead you content yourself to a life of mediocrity. Why is that?” she asked. A question I’ve known most of my adult life. “I find happiness in it,” I said. “Do you find happiness in anything else?” she asked. “Plenty of things.” “Like what?” “Football. Girls. A good pint. Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said. “Really?” she said, tapping a few keys on her keyboard and turning the laptop around. “Not even this?” There were a few pictures of smoking craters and burned out buildings, pillars of smoke, sad, scared-looking people in crowds. Red-caped superheroes were keeping order and putting out the flames, but the damage had been done. Not enough. She tapped a button, and a series of circles surrounded a face in each picture. My face. “You’ve been at an awful lot of IRA attacks, haven’t you, Mr. Long?” “Me and everyone else in Northern Ireland,” I said. “But it is an awful coincidence, isn’t it?” she said. “Seeing as how I am completely innocent, I would say it is indeed awful,” I said. With how emphatically I said that, I nearly believed myself. “Really, Spasm?” she said. My heart lurched. Someone had talked. “That is your, what should I call it, terrorist codename? Supervillain name?” she said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, keeping my voice steady, though finding that twitch in my head harder to ignore. “I’m afraid you do, actually,” Bowman said. “You see, my gift, since I assume you know already that like Hastings, I too am gifted, is to tell when people are lying. And, well, you’re lying pretty fiercely now, aren’t you?” So it was her prying into my brain. Her wriggling around in there. Her I’d have to make exceptionally pay. “What do you want?” I asked, all pleasantness gone. “The usual, if you’d please. Names. Dates. Incriminating information. I’ll even dangle a nice deal in front of you to sweeten things, because I’m not a monster, and I know you’re not either. But before anything else, I’d like to know one simple thing. From all the information we have on you, we know you to be a political and religious moderate with no radical tendencies. Why would you join a terrorist organization?” Her look was pure smugness. Hastings even let his guard off me for a moment, looking over to Bowman to confirm that she had every reason to be this smug. I knew I had to play this next moment very carefully, and take a lot of chances. Chances like them being so overconfident in their powers that they didn’t come armed. “This isn’t a test. More a matter of personal curiosity. Even if you’ve a shit answer, I’ll take it,” she said, leaning forward expectantly. “I just don’t like seeing bullies step on the little guy,” I said, leaning my rickety chair back, just far enough to take its front two legs off the ground. The next part I did very quickly. Feet firmly on the ground, I rocked the chair out from underneath me, swinging it overhand onto Bowman’s head. Her blood splattered across the table, her laptop, even my shirt. Hastings looked at me, afraid, I think, so confident in his power that he didn’t think any action would be needed. He turned partway to the door, scrabbling for the handle and quick escape. I closed the gap between us, wrenching his arm behind his back, dislocating it with a satisfying pop before spinning him around and into the table. His head clanged off the corner satisfyingly, his blood mingling with Bowman’s. I knew he’d lost consciousness the moment my powers came back. I could feel him, and Bowman, both bleeding, badly hurt. Officers were assembling outside, preparing to storm the room. I wouldn’t give them that chance. But first… I approached Bowman. She wept softly, moaning in pain through a mouth of shattered teeth and what I took to be a bit of tongue she’d bitten off on the table. Kneeling down beside her, I reached my hands to grab her temples and said, “Now if I were as wicked a man as you believe me to be, I’d take this opportunity and my newly rediscovered powers to do something truly unseemly to you, wouldn’t I?” She howled out, a sound of raw, wet pain from her ruined mouth. Clearly she didn’t think very much of me. If I didn’t figure that already, I’m sure I’d have been offended. Closing my eyes, I reached into her body and began the healing process. New teeth, new blood, new tongue, all wounds sealed. By the time I opened my eyes, she was as good as new, minus some disheveled hair and blood. She looked at me, bewildered, “What did you-” “Sleep,” I said. She complied. The men outside the door opened it, standing with their automatic weapons trained on me. I waved a hand at them, and as one they all doubled over vomiting violently, letting me pass without any trouble. I’m not a bad man, but I’m not a good man either. I have no problem admitting this. I don’t know if history will brand me a hero or a villain, a healer or a monster, a freedom fighter or a terrorist, and I don’t much care. If a fight’s needed, Spasm will be there.  Eighteen-year-old Aidan Salt isn’t a superhero. With his powerful (and unpredictable) telekinetic abilities he could be one if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He’s unambitious, selfish, and cowardly, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with all the paperwork required to become a professional superhero. But since the money, fame, and women that come with wearing the cape are appealing, he decides to become the first supervillain the world has seen in more than twenty years: Apex Strike. However, he soon finds villainy in a world where the heroes have long since defeated all the supervillains. While half the world’s heroes seem to want him dead, the other half want to hire him as their own personal villain to keep them relevant. Choosing the latter course, Aidan enters a world of fame, fortune, and staged superhero fights that is seemingly everything he ever dreamed of . . . at least until he sees what truly hides behind the cape-and-mask lifestyle. Almost Infamous will be released on April 19th, 2016, from Talos Press. Find it wherever books are sold (including the Amazon link so helpfully included here and in the cover above). Once again, to celebrate the countdown to the release of Almost Infamous, Matt's sharing this series of sneak peaks into the world of the supers. Keep watching here or on his homepage as the day draws closer! Superheroes have been a part of everyday life for more than a hundred years. They star in movies, grace advertisements, walk the red carpet, and occasionally save a life or two. Empires have risen and fallen because of them, and time after time they have saved Earth from certain annihilation. And they have become irrelevant. With supervillains effectively extinct, superheroes have become idle and are in danger of losing their funding and their livelihoods. Fearing this, a team of heroes have come up with a drastic plan: to create a team of supervillains who answer only to them, staging crimes so they will have someone to fight. These are the stories of the men, women and monsters who take part in this dangerous program. These are Almost Infamous: Origins. Previously on Almost Infamous: Origins: Prospects, Unwanted, Torches and Pitchforks, The Redcape, Family Business, Villain Worship, and Anger Management. Almost Infamous: Flawless Victory By Matt Carter Circus Tokyo, Japan A lot of people have told me that life isn’t a game. I always told them they weren’t trying hard enough. Anything can be a game if you apply enough pressure, force of will and creativity. Reality-bending superpowers certainly help too. I hadn’t had the powers for long, and so far they weren’t that great. I couldn’t kill El Capitán yet, and I probably couldn’t outsmart the Gamemaster, but I could completely warp reality within a couple inches of my body. A lot of people would call that a pretty crappy power, but they wouldn’t be trying hard enough. Within an inch of my body includes my body, so instead of a pudgy little fifteen-year-old, I could be whatever I wanted, and what I wanted to be was Circus. Circus was a two-dimensional clown, stylized enough that he was more cool than creepy but creepy enough that the normal people would fear me. As they should. Circus was a living cartoon, better than everyone in every way possible. He was cool, he was powerful, and he could impress girls. Lots of girls. Because he was cool and powerful. Yeah. Circus would be popular when I was done with him, then I would tell everyone who I was, and then I would be popular. Respected. Feared. And they would all regret how they treated me, and made fun of me, and they would want to be my friend and take me to clubs and then I could have as many girlfriends as I wanted. Because I’d be Circus. The street was busy when I, no, Circus stepped out onto it. Some people looked at me funny for a second, but then ignored me. I was hardly the strangest thing on the street after all, with gene-jobs and supers and super-wannabes doing their thing, everybody dressed up for a night out on the town. Why would they have to recognize a 2-D clown walking in their midst? Because this 2-D clown was going to fuck up their night. Big time. Circus smiled, bouncing on top of a nearby sports car before touching it, warping the roof’s reality so there was nothing but a gooey, brightly-colored hole. The driver protested, even tried to yell, but Circus kicked her to the street. Achievement Unlocked: Jack 1 car. Circus put the pedal to the metal, zooming through the busy street, scraping off cars, scared people jumping out of the way, screaming. There was a crowd ahead, extra points, but they were all quick and scared enough to jump out of the way. The building behind them, though, didn’t. Achievement Unlocked: Crash 1 car. Laughing maniacally, Circus flew through the windshield, smacking into the wall, rolled up like a poster. He rolled to the ground, then straightened out, then got on his wobbly, flat feet in time to see the car burst into flames. Cool. There was a vending machine nearby. Circus ripped it open, pulled out a half-dozen cans of energy drink in each hand, flipped them all open, and with mouth stretched open to the floor like a snake, drank them all down. Achievement Unlocked: PROPERTY DESTRUCTION! LEVEL UP! Now this was really kicking into gear. The little people, the normal ones, the non-powered ones, they looked up at Circus and ran. Circus, and I, laughed down at them. Clown shoes expanding into large red slabs, Circus smashed the street beneath them. There should have been people beneath the shoes, people to squash like bugs and disappear like bad guys always did, but they were too fast, too scared. They didn’t want to have fun. Instead the clown shoes just smashed into, and through, the ground. Achievement Unlocked: Pound the pavement. Through the ground, into the subway. Circus could have climbed back outside. Circus could have done anything he wanted to. Instead, Circus heard the oncoming sound of a train and got himself an idea. As soon as the lights were on him, he jumped into the air, transformed into a giant, vertical buzzsaw blade with Circus’ smiling face on the side, and cut right through the front and center of the train. Car after car, Circus sliced through and shot to the back. There was the sound of squealing breaks. Crashing. Sparks. Everybody screaming. Achievement Unlocked: Derail 1 train. Circus was in one of the last cars of the train when everything stopped. Nearly everybody was on the floor, bleeding and broken and bruised, though there were a few girls in school uniforms sitting on a back bench, huddled and crying and scared, trying to call out on their cell phones. Back in his clown form, Circus smiled and slid in between the girls with outstretched arms around all of their shoulders. “Hello, ladies. Who wants to visit the Circus?” Circus asked, licking his ruby red lips. Achievement Still Locked: Impress the babes. They screamed and ran. Circus shrugged. He’d reload a saved game next time and try the approach differently. Every achievement was possible, it had to be in the game, you just had to figure out how to approach them. The train halves had come to a stop partly in a station. Emergency personnel and police had already started to show. Circus smiled, jumping and bouncing off the floors and ceiling and finding the police officers easier to disable than he’d expected. They were harder to bounce off of, just crumpling to the ground, unconscious and broken after one hit. 15 HIT COMBO!!!! Achievement Unlocked: Disable 10 police officers. Money and ammo didn’t pop out of their pockets like they were supposed to, but this was a minor inconvenience. Circus looted their wallets, pocketed the cash, and kept going. After another power up stop at a vending machine, it was back up the escalators to the street. There had to be more fun. There was always more fun, you just had to- Yes! There was a karaoke bar. They wouldn’t check my, no, Circus’ ID, because Circus wouldn’t let them. Circus just burst inside, kicking down doors like every badass ever should, then bounced over to the bar. “Beer,” Circus demanded in his high, creepy, clown voice. The bartender, too scared, didn’t stop Circus, gave him a bottle of beer. It was too small, too weak for Circus, so he just made it better. In his hand the bottle grew massive, cartoonish, its contents foamy and at least three times as alcoholic before Circus chugged the massive brew, finishing off with a massive, floor-rattling burp. Achievement Unlocked: Have a real funny burp. Except nobody was laughing. They should have been laughing. Wasn’t Circus funny? Fine, they didn’t think that was funny. I, no, no, Circus would show them what funny really was. Circus jumped on stage, grabbed the microphone. “Now I want to dedicate this song to a special lady out there,” Circus said. “You’ll do no such thing, young man,” an elderly man from the back of the audience said. “I’d like to see you try, old man, am I right, people? Wanna see Circus beat up an old man?” Circus asked, raising his arms to the crowd. The old man calmly stepped forward, straightening his suit before touching a gem on the necklace he wore. He suddenly transformed into a massive, gleaming suit of polished black samurai armor. Circus grimaced, but looked cocky and strong, which was good because I don’t think I’d have been able to do that if I were there. The benefits of playing a game. I wasn’t sure which hero he was, our country was rotten with heroes dressed like mystical samurai and ninjas (probably the Americans’ doing), but the way his sword started to fill the club with wind, and the way the wind cut through Circus’ bubble of distorted reality and hit me, I didn’t think it mattered too much. First Circus was flying. Then Circus was falling. Then I hit a wall and everything exploded in pain. I might have landed upside down, because that’s how the hero looked when he walked to me. I didn’t know why I couldn’t become Circus again, maybe the bastard had used a cheat code or a mod or a hack. “Yield, boy,” the hero said, pointing his glowing, pale-blue katana at my neck. Achievement Still Locked: Defeat 1 superhero. Even though it really hurt, I smiled. Flawless victory wasn’t always possible the first time out, especially with a new game. All I’d have to do is load an old save and try this again, and then I could pull it off. Then Circus would own them all.  Eighteen-year-old Aidan Salt isn’t a superhero. With his powerful (and unpredictable) telekinetic abilities he could be one if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He’s unambitious, selfish, and cowardly, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with all the paperwork required to become a professional superhero. But since the money, fame, and women that come with wearing the cape are appealing, he decides to become the first supervillain the world has seen in more than twenty years: Apex Strike. However, he soon finds villainy in a world where the heroes have long since defeated all the supervillains. While half the world’s heroes seem to want him dead, the other half want to hire him as their own personal villain to keep them relevant. Choosing the latter course, Aidan enters a world of fame, fortune, and staged superhero fights that is seemingly everything he ever dreamed of . . . at least until he sees what truly hides behind the cape-and-mask lifestyle. Almost Infamous will be released on April 19th, 2016, from Talos Press. Find it wherever books are sold (including the Amazon link so helpfully included here and in the cover above). |
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