Playing around with different tunings to find the right riff for this new song I’m writing. Why are older musicians in love with Drop D? It doesn’t speak to me at all.
First thing’s first; there have been a few of you who’ve subscribed to The Gonzo Wolf. Thank you. I don’t email everything I post, but I will be hitting you up at least once a day. I post everything to Threads automatically, though; it’s a WordPress thing. I hope you enjoy what you’ll see here.
Fast forward.
It didn’t take me long to discover a writing prompt for this morning. Easy choice: there was no coffee ground, so I ventured to 7/11 aka the Bishop Arts version of Maz’s Watering Hole. Yes, I just made a sequel reference. I used “Mos Eisley” a couple of days ago in a rant. I don’t like redundancy in literature, unless I’m attempting my best JD Salinger prose.
I didn’t get kicked out of bed last night, which means my wife was sleeping deeply. Also, those gun-range approved ear plugs came in clutch. I didn’t get woken up not once while I slept last night. I’m an on again/off again snorer, you see. She is as well, but I’d never wake her; it’s cute.
It lets me know she’s still breathing in the night without fully waking up, rolling over, and seeing for myself. You can’t buy that type of comfort.
My luck, I’d forgotten to grind coffee before going to bed. I’m a bit of an early riser, so I pre-plan my mornings the night before. The open floor plan of a condo is only cool until it isn’t, even if it ever was at all. I try not to pay attention to such things. I’m a busy person, you know. Busy mucking up my mind with other shenanigans: UFO’s, politics, guitar, etc.
Now, I don’t know about you, but there is no way I can accomplish my morning porch swing ritual sans critical ingredients. I grabbed my Angus Young hat and headed to 7/11 in slides, athletic shorts, an official Starving Zoe t-shirt, and a beard resembling a bird’s nest. Radagast has officially entered the Star Wars universe, and space/time is about to tear.
My Gen-X nerds will catch my chirp.
It’s chilly in Dallas this morning, and the hair stood on my legs as I reached the outside. I almost turned around to put on pants, but I didn’t want to risk making noise; risk waking my wife. Not out of fear, mind you; she’s not a hateful person, although misunderstood at times. I was damn fearful of her when we first met; quite intimidating, to be certain. That is, until I fell in love with her. Understood, I shut the truck door, and blasted the Autograph…
(Yes. I’m that guy. Motley Lou from Hot Tub Time Machine).
When I pulled in a mere three blocks away, the Panhandle Army appeared to be nowhere in sight. Also, the parking lot was unusually empty, save for one minivan with a huge dude asleep behind the wheel; reclined, blanket and all. The whole thing shook when he rolled over. I didn’t want to wake him either, but for obvious reasons. Don’t poke the sleeping dog unless you must, and dog was the only way I could describe this poor man. Reminded me of a type of hairy pit-bull/human hybrid. Maybe a werewolf with skin allergies during the ‘return’ process. The night following the hunt. His was obviously successful but, of course, I digress.
There were minimal patrons inside the establishment, so I expected there to actually be coffee available. If there’s more than one trailer full of lawn equipment on any given morning of the work-week, then you’re not getting coffee at a Dallas 7/11. Now, I don’t mean this in a racist way whatsoever – those guys are f’ing artists with a lawn – and I respect them all highly. Hard-ass workers, the lot, and they deserve every ounce of that goddamn coffee. I can take my lazy, artistic ass elsewhere and enjoy it!
The choices were:
Decaf
Pecan
Morning
Columbian
Translation:
Hell no
Hell no again
Luke warm black water
Clear, scalding water
How in the world did a franchise known for its morning coffee drop the ball with something as trivial as coffee?
Suddenly, a cross-eyed Asian girl popped up from out of nowhere – I shit you not; I’m not trying to be hateful or racist in anyway. I’m only stating facts that were suddenly placed in my face – and offered me this swanky-ass grind-o-matic nonsense. I accepted for the sake of timing. I knew I would want to get straight home and behind the keyboard to tell this tale before the details faded.
Long story short, that wasn’t coffee either. Just tan water cosplay. I am an Army style black coffee drinker, and I love every goddamn second of it. Thank you, Uncle f’ing Sam for instilling in me the lust for this planet’s true life-blood. Now, I patiently await my queen to wake via her own wishes so that we may have coffee together. It’s a tough gig.
All things; in love.
Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon. I hope you all have an amazing Sunday. Except YOU; you know who you are.
The “comments” section is at the very bottom of the page. That way, if you’re going to be a poon, I can try to sell you a book on the way down.
The Reverend’s Reads
To most, 1865 was an eye-opening year. The American Civil War was officially over and the soldiers fortunate enough to survive the bloody conflict returned home to collect the pieces of their former lives. To young Arizonan, Robert Jack, the fateful desert homecoming marked the end to all he once knew. Forgiveness is overrated. Death is final. Revenge, however, dances between the fine lines of mortality and eternity. Love always finds a way.
“Reading Jim Walker and the Redemption Hymn is equal parts quirky fun and riveting action. Cloud’s confident, entertaining voice draws the reader in like an old radio western: the perfect bite-sized story with a main character you’re ready to follow through every adventure he finds himself on. So, tune in next time…”
– Megan Stockton, author of Lovely, Dark & Deep
The history books would read that Jim Walker was brutally executed after the Battle of Goliad, but a few promises in the right ear blurred the contrast between blood and ink. Now an aging bounty hunter on the verge of retirement, his services are requested in the Northern Arizona Territory to solve the terrifying mystery of the Verde River Massacre. With guns from a local Deputy, courage from a saloon proprietor, and a deathbed confession from an all-too-familiar Medicine Woman, Jim sets off on what could be his final adventure. Will he lay the ghosts of his past to rest once and for all, or is he simply whistling his Redemption Hymn?
“Someone call DC and tell them this is how you write a female hero character!” – Lisa Lee Tone, Bibliophelia Templum
Angel Burns is a young firefighter with a shrouded history. During a routine night at work, she stumbles upon a demonic ceremony that brings her memories out of hiding – as well as her repressed supernatural powers. Angel soon learns her life was intended for things greater than extinguishing fires for mortals. Now on the payroll of the Vatican, Angel embarks upon an epic quest to protect the Gutenberg Bibles from evil. If successful, she will secure peace for generations. If she fails, the power of the ancient books will bestow an eternity of darkness upon all humanity!
Toby Liberman is nearing the end of his rope. After a fateful confrontation with his wife’s lover, he is chased into the woods only to be discovered by an unidentifiable creature. He is attacked and rendered unconscious. Upon waking at the scene of a gruesome triple homicide, Toby is arrested as the sole suspect and thrown into a jail cell with a strange man that knows way too much about his predicament. The stranger reveals to Toby that he now possesses the curse of the werewolf. Using his new-found strength to flee his captors, Toby begins to discover that things are not what they seem in the sleepy town of Twin Oaks, TX. Now hunted by law enforcement, as well as the town’s gun toting civilians, Toby seeks vengeance against his false accusers and embarks upon a quest to clear his name once and for all.
A Curse Beyond Comprehension. A Power Beyond Belief. A Girl Far From Home. Katie Liberman is your typical eighteen-year-old college student…or at least that’s what her family thinks. Picking up five years after the events of A Taste of Home, Katie has dropped out of school and embarked upon a dangerous quest to find Kurt Jimmerson, the New York City attorney responsible for her family’s werewolf curse. Unknown to her, the attorney’s grip on the ‘City That Never Sleeps’ is tighter than imagined and she’ll need any and all help available to be victorious. But… where do you find friends when you’re Far From Home?
Twin Oaks, Texas is at war! Taking place immediately after the Far From Home events in New York City, Katie Liberman has returned to rescue her birthplace from the clutches of her nemesis. As the paranormal battle of North vs. South rages in the shadows, the tiny town must decide to fight against the odds or become one with the darkness. Blood will be shed and only one will survive as the final battle of the Home Series concludes.
I know this is the part where I’m supposed to talk about the book, but I feel as though the synopsis needs its own preface to truly understand. 2023 was quite an eye-opening year! I began it by living my dream as a vintage steam locomotive fireman, but that dream was soon squashed thanks to my writing career. It won’t matter that you wrote your extreme horror offerings years ago and under a pen name. Also, it won’t matter that your publisher and author friends from days gone by express pleasantries and kind, nurturing words to your face, because they’ll clique-up and talk trash the minute you turn your back. F**k the biz, create. Create for art, not clicks. Click for love, not hate. Those are words true artists should have no issues living by, yet most seem to hide behind their keyboard shields, flinging ill-thought words of destruction toward once-trusted ears. Don’t pour something into everything; pour everything into something. Do it all by yourself if necessary. With any luck, 2024 will be the year of The Reverend. I’m not exactly sure what that means yet, but we’ll find out together. Anyway, here are a few short stories and poems I wrote as C. Derick Miller in 2023. I stole them from myself. Fair and square. Enjoy.
Poetry has always come naturally to me. Whether it is an expression of emotion toward someone I care about, or a display of humor pointed in the direction of those I loathe, it is my true outlet. Several of these works were written in a passenger seat while exploring the highways of the United States and somehow managed to survive “The Great Ex-Wife/Ex-Girlfriend Poetry Purge” of 2019. Others were penned during COVID-19 quarantine. Although it may not be the most epic poetry collection you’ve ever read, it all contains bits of blood and soul. You will feel something. Guaranteed.
“This profound collection of horror brings classic monsters into new light in the modern day” – B.L. Blankenship, God Walks The Dark Hills series.
The modern world is a crazy place. Worrying about childish politicians, empty grocery store shelves, and our pending membership to the “global disease of the week” club, it leaves very little time for the average reader to finish an entire novel. This is where Six from Five Seven: Short Stories from a Short Man comes in clutch! A story per day to keep the impending apocalypse away, with a single day left over to contemplate why you purchased this book in the first place. That sounds like an entertaining week when compared to the one you were destined to have regardless. What do a cursed husband, a privileged brat, a curious prostitute, a repressed savior, a vengeful son, and two hell-bound soldiers have in common? Their stories lie within the pages of this collection and invite you to tag along on their journeys of fate, redemption, and demise. When finished, you, dear reader, can hide this book inside your basement with the rest of those important documents you wished you’d never taken home. The FBI won’t be happy, but at least they’ll know you’re a cool person for owning a copy while conducting the raid. That must count for something, right? Let’s hope the judge thinks so!
Also, there’s a few other things not listed here that are floating around out there. Best of luck with the hunt.
Current Projects
Rev. Dare Cloud
Reverend · adjective. worthy of adoration or reverence. synonyms: sublime · sacred.
is a Dallas author, musician, and gonzo journalist. Some of his works include the controversial splatter-western Starving Zoe (written as C. Derick Miller), the Taste of Home trilogy, and the ongoing Jim Walker series. He is also the co-host of the American Justice Podcast and Senior Writer/Junior Producer for AtuA Productions LLC. His literary crushes are (of course) Hunter S. Thompson, J.D. Salinger, and Kevin Smith. Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon.
“You’ve got to press it on you You’ve just been thinking That’s what you do, baby Hold it down, Dare!” – Gorillaz
The Gonzo Wolf 
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