Self-Publishing

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Title: Psychotic
Author: Harper Kingsley
World: Heroes & Villains
Genre: mm superhero
Word count: 8750
A/N: This story is set during part three of Allies & Enemies. It began as a cut scene and was expanded.
A/N 2: Includes excerpts of upcoming stories. First two chapters of Allies & Enemies, the first two chapters of The Panic Pure, and the opening of Normal Again.

Summary: Warrick should stay safe in their little cabin in the woods, but sometimes that whole superhero thing gets away from him.

Available at: Amazon, Smashwords for $0.99

EXCERPT:

He’d given up that life. He wasn’t that guy anymore. He’d made promises and commitments. But that was all in the past tense. He was in the moment, in the now, and there was the thunder red of rage-rage-rage burning across Vereint’s brain.

All this time, Warrick had been so great about following the rules. So why did he have to fuck up now?

Vereint had come back to an empty cabin, a TV still showing GNN, and a note. Warrick had seen something that called for Blue Ice, so he’d gone off to handle it.

Vereint’s panic as he chased after Warrick had gradually turned to burning anger. Didn’t Warrick understand what putting himself in danger did to him? The sense of helplessness and suffocating worry that he felt?

Vereint wanted to scream in Warrick’s face, but he knew he would end up on his knees begging him to never leave him. And that patheticness only made him angrier. Never in his life had there been anyone to bring him so low as Warrick could.

By the time he reached the warehouse, he was mostly in control. Then he broke the lock and slid open the door. It felt like the moment froze in front of him, the air going heavy and still.

Warrick was dead.

There was blood everywhere in a butterfly spray, and at the center the torn cocoon. Flesh splayed open in pink and white ridges of muscle and tendon. Eye sockets blackened and exposed amongst the brain matter. Warrick’s face was pasty and still, his shattered lips still parted around where his teeth had been kicked out.

Vereint sucked in a hissing breath and his hands clenched into claw shapes at his sides. He was going mad. The world was a riot of bright reds and softer pinks and the glistening lengths of intestine. The image before him soaked itself into his brain. Becoming the truth of his existence.

Then he noticed that the Blue Ice uniform was wrong. It was one Vereint knew for sure had been ruined in a fight with Behemoth. He’d thrown it away himself, which had been a real hardship. It had been his favorite.

Just that quick he knew someone was messing with his brain.

It was as though someone had snapped a new lens on a camera, everything coming into focus. He could still see the mind fuckery of the illusion, but it was hollow and thin, all the emotional impact removed.

There were two men in black three-piece suits standing next to a card table. They were laughing and joking, placing bets on how long he would freak out.

As his mind started working again, Vereint’s eyes were drawn to the vibrating silver device on the table. He’d only ever heard about them, but he was sure that it was a Psiren. It produced sound waves focused to some frequency that could force the human brain to experience different emotions. The feelings drawn up were so strong that some people experienced correlating hallucinations.

Vereint tried to make his body convey terror and grief and was glad of the ski mask he’d pulled on before leaving. He’d never been that great of an actor, which was why he usually let Warrick do the lying for the both of them.

His eyes slid to the back of the room where he’d spotted the glint of a blade pressed tight against the real Warrick’s throat. His jaw clenched tight with fear and anger.

Warrick wasn’t moving, was flopped limply, but Vereint could see the minute quiver of his breaths. He was pulled across the over-sized lap of a man that had to be a good fifteen hundred pounds.

Vereint recognized the man as Jericho Slim, sometimes called the Knife Man because he could do horrible nightmare things with a blade. He could draw them out of his flesh like gall stones. He would gag and a blade would come out from between his lips or sometimes it would just be slivers. It was said he could spit his Needle Darts faster than a viper and he could hit a target up to two hundred feet away.

Even though he was sure he was faster than Jericho Slim, Vereint didn’t want to risk the guy getting lucky. It was better to play it safe and maneuver the situation to keep Warrick alive. Because a single scratch from one of Jericho Slim’s bioblades and Warrick would rot from the wound like it was the bite of a Gila monster; it was a horrible way to die.

After what he figured had to be a good five minutes of shivering, shaking, and quavering garbled cries, Vereint let himself sag to the floor with a low moan. From what he knew, an improperly used Psiren could cause catatonia in people that had experienced severe psychological trauma.

He was worried about Warrick. With his history and not possessing Vereint’s natural protections, things were worse for Warrick. Being hit with the effects of a Psiren could give him permanent brain damage.

Vereint was certain he was going to be killing some people today.

/EXCERPT ∞

Aside 0 comments

Okay, so there’s been stuff happening with me. Sorry I haven’t kept you up-to-date, but I’ve been in one of my moods, though I seem to be coming out of it fast 🙂 So that’s good.

Heroes & Villains is releasing August 14th (tomorrow!) from Less Than Three Press. You can pre-order it now if you don’t already have a copy. Or if you want to try and win yourself a copy, follow the blog tour. A winner will be drawn August 19th, and since there’s five stops, you have five chances to win. Awesome.

The Armchair Reader – Aug 12th with the awesome Cole Riann.
It’s Raining Men – Aug 13th.
Pants Off Reviews – Aug 14th.
World of Diversity Fiction – Aug 15th.
Megan Derr’s LJ – Aug 16th.

And if you don’t know Heroes & Villains, it’s the first full-length novel in my superhero series chronicling the life of Vereint and Warrick.

Set in a semi-dystopian world where everyone can have superpowers if they’re lucky in the genetic lottery or they have enough money to buy some, Vereint starts off wanting to be a superhero like his idol Blue Ice. He was lucky enough to be born with metabilities, so he set off to build himself a secret identity and became the superhero Starburst.

Quickly nicknamed Candy Ass for being so lame.

Everyone seems against him, especially the man he spent his teenaged years admiring, Blue Ice. It feels as though nothing he does is every enough, he needs to break out of his humdrum life where he has an office job for money and is mercilessly mocked every time he goes out to help people. Nothing he does seems to alleviate the public’s opinion and he feels like he can’t take it anymore…

So he doesn’t. He sheds his superhero skin and becomes the supervillain Darkstar.

He’s no Lex Luthor plotting and planning world domination. He’s out to have some fun and make some money. He’s not interested in atrocities, especially when they’re done in his name. He’s got no interest in minions or followers and he’s a little creeped out by all the fanfic. He’s just a guy with superpowers having a good time and committing some crimes.

Though it’s kind of cool that Blue Ice is his arch-nemesis. There’s nothing like making the guy that bullied you squirm.

Darkstar x Blue Ice.

(And suddenly I started sounding like a commercial for toys. Unfortunately, I talk like that in real life too. Never ask me to describe a stirling engine. It gets real weird real fast.)

Plus there’s this 🙂

Across Two Divides: Arc One comprises Chapters 1-10 and is available now from Amazon and Smashwords for $2.99.

You can still catch up with the free version at FictionPress. But look, I made such a nice cover! I’m so proud of myself.

This is my soap opera romance novel family life story. I’m already planning out all these story arcs that these people can go through. The assassination attempts, the killer allergies, the grief for a cousin that’s gone… This is totally my soothing brain story.

And this is the same world as The Panic Pure and From Diamond to Coal, so there might be crossings with Arianetta and his creepiness, or William with his giant robots.

EXCERPT:

-FRANKIE-

Sitting broody on his couch wasn’t something that Frankie did very often, though he’d caught himself drinking more and more until he was starting to get vaguely concerned. It was one thing to be a social drinker, and something completely different for him to need a drink in his hand to be able to even think about facing his day.

Looking around his living room, his accomplishments hanging from every wall, he should have felt proud but it was just empty accolades from people he didn’t care about.

He looked down at the magazine still held in his hand and tossed it away with a grimace before taking another swallow from his tumbler of scotch.

It was just a stupid magazine and he shouldn’t let it get to him, but it was the little things that always ended up cutting him the most. He’d had a lot of respect for Hester Mann, but it looked like that feeling wasn’t returned, to the point that she’d written such an awful article about him. It was like a straight stab to the heart.

Frankie let himself flop sideways on the couch, resting his head on a fat red decorative pillow, the rich brocade probably leaving marks against his cheek.

As a kid he’d believed that fame would bring happiness and everything that he wanted out of life. Instead, he’d found himself emptier than ever.

“I’ve got a black hole heart,” he muttered, then barked a laugh that sounded more like the start to tears.

He held his arm up in front of his face, making the medical alert bracelet dance and sparkle against his wrist bone. He could see the reflected light hitting the opposing wall and that entertained him for a while. Anything not to think about Hester Mann and her strange vendetta against him.

His thoughts were broken by the vibrating buzz of his phone in his front pocket and he had to fumble around to get it out. “Hello?” He was proud that the word came out clearly and not the slurred mess it might have been.

“Francis? This is Christian.” There was something dark in the man’s voice that had Frankie forcing himself upright on the couch. He didn’t even care that Christian had used his real name.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

There was the sound of a heavy sigh. “Do you think you could come and see Nicholas?”

“Why? Is he all right?” Frankie was worried, more worried than he’d thought he could be. There was just something so fragile about Nicholas, a brokenness that no one had ever been able to completely fix.

“I don’t know,” Christian said. “He was fine at work, then there was a bit of an accident with some spilled coffee and now he’s crawled into bed and I just don’t know what’s going on with him.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Frankie said. “You still at that one hotel?”

“Yeah, the same one we always stay at,” Christian said, then gave the room number. “Hurry.”

“I’ll be there.”

Hanging up his phone, Frankie wasn’t sure he would be able to make it there as easily as he’d thought. He’d already drunk more than enough scotch and he wasn’t sure just how steady his legs were going to be, but it wasn’t like he had a lot of choice. Nicholas needed him to be there for him.

He’d failed before, but never again.

/EXCERPT ∞

The Way of the Househusband 01 at Amazon

December 21, 2012 0 comments

Faizel, by Harper Kingsley

Title: Faizel
Author: Harper Kinsgley
Genre: mm supernatural, vampire
Word count: 10,400
Rating: Adult

Available as KDP Select. If you’ve got an Amazon Prime membership, go read it for free.

EXCERPT:

He was a handsome stranger in painted on pants and Chuck Taylors. His dark brown hair curled around his ears in enticing tousled waves. He had rich olive skin and a straight nose with perfect nostrils. He was built in lean lines and looked like he should be an endearingly dorky guy, completely oblivious to his own good looks.

Except he walked like a predator. He tried not to, but his hips insisted on falling into their natural position when he didn’t concentrate. An arrogant, rolling walk that caught and held the eye, luring in his prey.

He’d always been so well-known that he couldn’t have pretended to be anyone other than himself. He was more easily recognizable than the Master. The name FAIZEL was synonymous with power and prestige. He was always near the top of every Most Wanted list the Resistance put out.

He’d always enjoyed playing with the Resistance. Hunting them down and spoiling their plans had been endlessly entertaining. It was why he’d never just completely exterminated them all the way the Master wanted.

The Master was talking synthetic blood and genocide. He had wanted a world completely devoid of normal human life. The Phageless would cease to exist and only the New Breed would remain. He wanted a world of rules and restrictions, a totalitarian empire with himself at the top.

Faizel enjoyed being powerful, but he wanted the thrill of the hunt. He was young and virile and he’d been Reborn without a soul. But he still remembered his human days and all that burning hate and rage was still there, bubbling under the surface of his skin.

He’d killed most of the people that had made his living life so miserable in one wild spree of blood and viscera. After that though… he’d spent enough time around the Master to realize that he didn’t want to live in that sterile, cruel world with only his own kind for company.

He hadn’t been able to stand it.

He had secretly begun to sabotage his own mission plans so there were weaknesses able to be exploited by a clever but desperate human. He’d sifted out the weakest of the Resistance to leave the best behind, separating the wheat from the chaff.

Then he had waited and enjoyed being able to toy with his new playmates. He was going to kill them, but he built them up first before he hunted them down. He loved that sweetest first sip of panicked blood, packed with all of that desperate will to survive. It made his heart sing.

He slid through the crowded club to one of the tables at the front. He sat down with such a charming smile that the women already there giggled and gave him flirty welcomes. He smiled but didn’t really interact, just nodding his head here and there when they spoke to him.

Faizel gazed up at the main stage and absorbed the sight of a supernatural cabaret show. It was like Rocky Horror Picture Show with even more garters and lace; there was a bit more skin showing, and both men and women wore short-shorts and a mixture of glitter and glamour.

Dancing and singing men and women, some entirely human while others stretched and bent with supernatural ease. Here and there one of the dancers would flash a mouthful of fangs as they playfully “menaced” their delighted audience. Their faces would twist and turn into a monstrous mask of bulging bone, glaring yellow eyes, and a double row of teeth that were nothing but jagged points.

Money was offered at the end of each set and a pretty girl with flaxen curls and a smattering of glitter on her cheeks went around with a cloth bag to collect the cash. She was wearing a flirty red skirt and a black crop top vest that revealed a toned stomach and a sparkling silver bead dangling at her navel. She wore high-heeled gladiator sandals that crisscrossed up her shins to just below her dimpled knees.

Faizel fumbled in his pocket for a few crumpled bills. He stuck them in the bag quickly so no one could get a good look at them in case money was different here.

Vampires sure were.

He was utterly fascinated by their monstrous faces and the claws he thought he’d spotted amongst them. They were like a mix of human and animal. Even when they weren’t trying to be frightening, their mouths easily shaped snarls.

He was utterly captivated, his eyes trailing up and down the beautiful bodies on display, but what he was really drawn to was the feral nature of them. They were apex predators, of that he had no doubt, though he had to wonder why they were so intent on living amongst the humans, working with them. The idea of it intrigued him.

Faizel had been suppressing his Allure from the minute he’d fallen out of the glowing portal and discovered that he was in a world not his own. The air had smelled different and there was the caressing vapor of distant, strange Power.

His first impulse was to ride in under the radar, to look around for himself and see what kind of world this was. And so far he had been very pleased.

There were vampires here, though a much different kind than he was used to. He could practically see the souls binding them to their bodies, and though their faces turned to those of monsters when they let their Hunger show… they were human on the inside. Beautiful, fragile humans.

He had never seen anything so entrancing. He wondered how hard it was to break them, these dancing, singing, oh-so-human vampires.

November 22, 2012 0 comments

EXCERPT: Allies & Enemies, by Harper Kingsley mm superhero

Title: Allies & Enemies
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm, superhero, action adventure, drama
A/N: Still trying to get a hold of a good cover 🙁 Paid good money for a load of nothing. Might end up with a generic quivering camera photo of flowers or fruit or something for a cover; still deciding.

Summary: Starts where “Heroes & Villains” left off. Vereint could be a terrifying and unstoppable force and it was just luck that he showed even the tiniest bit of concern for other people. If he had been completely amoral he would have been a monster so terrible he could almost be seen as a force of nature.

The sun was struggling to shine through the clouds, but it was just one of those days guaranteed to be miserable. Not just because of the weather, but because of the girl sobbing out her heartbreak on a sterile hospital bed, the sheets pulled up around her shoulders as she buried her face in the rather flat and lumpy pillow.

Vereint clenched his hands together on the handle of the shopping bag he held in front of himself. It took all of his will to keep from running into the room and scooping her up into his arms. Instead, he stood on the other side of the glass and watched her mourn the loss of both of her parents all alone. Behind and to the left of him, he could hear Warrick fast-talking the doctors and the police and anyone else he had to and Vereint was sure everything was going to work itself out.

They were going to take that little girl home and give her a family and make sure she grew up knowing that she was loved. He didn’t think they could ever wipe away the loss of her parents, but they would try their best to make her realize that she still had a whole life to live and that they would always be there for her.