Strange night. I dare not turn on the television, even though I will. I know me.
Glitchy. Off kilter. Sideways.
Am I the only one? Can you feel it too?
Somewhere between Bryan Adams and Peter Frampton on the playlist. May the clouds I offer bring rain in the coming days. Could that be it? Did she forget how to make clouds? Hell, I AM a Cloud. So strange, but not in a bad way.
I wanted me and the wife to hyphenate our last names when we got married, because it was more about a union than ownership. The aliens are never going to talk to us (I don’t care what Dr. Phil says) if we can’t see past our primitive beliefs; whichever one you claim.
I guess I get it. Some women are so in love that they can’t wait to take a man’s last name. That’s cool, if you’re into that sort of thing. Three chicks did it with me once upon a time. Sam and I are different.
Most rebellious couples cosplay as Bonnie and Clyde. We’re more like Master Blaster from Mad Max. Three seconds; break neck. She points, I devour; as it should be. Hulk smash, and all that jazz. Anyway, Cloud-Miller seemed more like a joining rather than a merge. The more peaceful sounding of the two.
It’s who we are. I fought myself tooth and nail for five years saying it wasn’t so, but here we sit. Together at seven years of marriage. My first lasted a year. My second? Six years. My third? Six years. All three of them were full of fights, break ups, separations, affairs, etc. Sam is lucky number four. You claim there is no such thing, but I say poop upon you, kind sir.
I killed that guy when I changed my name. Horrible person. Brilliant writer, but just unpleasant to deal with on several levels. It was fun. Oh, yeah; fun as hell a time or three, but overall unpleasant. Would not recommend. Two stars out of five on a good day.
Seven years. This time, I was the problem child. Writing clique drama, book convention parties, sloppy drunk podcasts (before sobriety), the whole Six Flags/Starving Zoe fiasco. I strangled that fucking writing career with my bare goddamn hands, and cried the whole time. I did that shit to myself. I was riding high with an agent and everything, and I drank it away. Starving Zoe shall live in infamy, though. There’s that.
The world will be a wasteland after the apocalypse, and that book will just be blowing in the breeze down a random street; unscathed.
I asked Sam the other night if she was in any way disappointed in how things turned out. With my writing career, I mean. She got on the elevator mid-way, so she saw the high-water mark (chef’s kiss). She also saw me, the person, at my absolute lowest. It was the climb that attracted her, I think. Thrusting my nails into the splintered wood as I ascended the proverbial barrel; leaving behind the depths from which I wallowed a bit. It looks sexy when you put it in writing.
Regardless, I was professionally someone else when we began dating, and I was certain there were expectations within the relationship as the natural progression of one’s career may take in any of the artistic fields.
My writing career was co-dependent of my alcoholism. As I endured sobriety, I wanted to spend less time pumping out books and attending cons, and more time with my family. When it all finally poofed, like the fresh fart it was, I turned in slow-motion, dropped a match, and watched it burn in the reflection of my sunglasses.
I mean, I’m lying. I’m writing shit now. I don’t know where it’ll take me, if I’ll offer it to a publisher, or if I’ll seek out a new clique to strongly dislike within a year or two. The UFO people are already fighting. Imaginary drama. Social media clowns.
Or maybe I’ll just trap myself in this corner, getting old and crusty, like one of the great minds from time’s past, pecking out life’s final thoughts upon this unforgiving keyboard.
These conundrums were so much easier to navigate when they were soaked in sauce, but I’ll endure the added difficulty. I have a Sam, you see. Seven year Sam, unless my timer runneth out in the next couple of weeks.
The key to a successful marriage in a social media world? Complete and total isolation. Or, from their point of view, “Uh, yeah. They’re the weird couple, and maybe we shouldn’t hang out with them anymore. Did you see the rubber chicken nailed to the pentagram above their front door? What was that?”
No shame. None.
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.
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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. 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
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