Well good morning, all you shiny, happy people! It’s The Reverend; who would’ve thunk it? Well, probably all of you by now.
I LOVE IT when the WordPress AI image generator absolutely refuses to create a cover photo from my subject matter. Eat wieners, Skynet!
The schizophrenic upstairs was finally taken away by the police last night to get some help, I hope. It’s actually a hilarious story and, I wish I could tell you, but I’m currently being monitored by the other side.
You see, there’s a couple of local, influential-in-small-circles, religious nut jobs doing religious nut job things. They’re trying to convince people that I’m a satanist, or evil, or the opposite of whatever it is they publicly stand for – I truly give two poops and a poke. I really didn’t want to poke the bear, but I woke up feeling frisky. Let me make this clear so even the folks in the nosebleeds can understand:
I was officially baptized into the Church of Christ in 1983.
I officially lost my faith on September 21st, 1997.
I was officially excommunicated in 2005.
Since then, I’ve been me; a student of all religions, but hoping it’s all really aliens. I’m really leaning toward the whole Sith thing. I dig cloaks.
For me to get reinstated as a Christian and pretend the excommunication never happened (which is what several Christians have suggested to me over the years; um, no) would completely unravel the laws of the Christian mythos, therefore, I can no longer be a Christian; get off my case about it.
I must NOT go to church ever again, or it proves the whole thing is hokey.
I’m doing this for YOU. I’m the glue that holds Christianity together. Perhaps I’m the second coming? Remember: It’s not sacrilegious if they kicked you out…
Tis a heavy burden.
You know what?
Fuck it.
I’m gonna tell my story. IDGAF if you go to church with the President; hypothetically. For reference.
RIP
So, I’ve been given some of this super secret, soon-to-be-legal-as-soon-as-the-disabled-ramp-gets-installed-at-the-dispensary, happy plant by one of the businesses up the street. I plopped down in Pepaw’s porch swing and “popped a nug into me pipe” (in a Popeye voice).
Ceremony is everything, otherwise everything is nothing.
Newsflash: It’s some of the worst I’ve had since high school. All-Terrain Abbott’s wacky 4th grade science lab cronies have bred most of the THC out of it. It’s basically tobacco that tastes like weed, but I digress. Coming soon to a gas station near you.
I was mid-flame, when I noticed movement out of my right peripheral. I paused like stunned animal. There were three sets of feet coming down from my disturbed neighbor’s house, and I suddenly got incredibly happy. Holy shit, I thought to myself, this bastard finally went out and found some friends! Maybe they can help keep an eye on the poor, unfortunate soul.
No such luck.
When they turned the corner, I noticed two of them had on reflective vests.
It was in this moment when I realized I had a choice. Tuck the pipe away (even though it’s legal, it all smells the same; I didn’t feel like having a “moment” in today’s citizen/law enforcement climate), and walk inside, or be who I am and take the fattest, smokiest pull off my rather noticeable pipe and blow it in their direction?
A smile formed on both sides of the stem as I performed the latter.
Both cops busted out laughing. They wanted to confront me – I could see it in their eyes – but they were escorting a dude in handcuffs down two flights of stairs. They got into their unmarked vehicle, locking eyes with me for a good ten seconds or so as the gate slowly opened, and drove away.
It was in that moment when I removed my ass from its perch and went indoors. I’m defiant, but I’m not stupid. I didn’t do so earlier because I didn’t want them to know which door was mine. Wink.
I mean, between the AI, “gunfire detectors”, and facial recognition, they could know everything in a few seconds if they’d wake up their IT guy. Big Brother is always watching, he just doesn’t know what he’s looking for half the time. It’s a big, big world, folks.
Always trust in the force, kids. Within ten minutes, there were badges all over the place searching for something or someone with flashlights. No, they weren’t looking for me specifically (a masked guy was trying to kick in my neighbor’s door; no bullshit, it’s an interesting town), but I would’ve been the prime suspect if I were still sitting there performing my Hobbit ritual.
I basically farted in their general direction, and lived to tell the tale. Wow, that’s a lot of pop-culture references smashed into a couple of paragraphs, but I managed to pull it off. This is why they pay me the no-bucks.
Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon.
Perhaps t’was the good lord who speaketh to me through the bud, and sayeth, “Go into thyne house, oh poon, and testeth not the moxy of Dallas PD. They art ruled by a fascist-in-training, and are unpredictable AF. Although, one of them was white, so I had that fifty-percent privilege thing going on. I’m not proud, but I’m stuck with it. Waste not; want not.
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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