“Oh, I don’t know. I was lonely, what with you on vacation and all, and thought maybe I’d give you a buzz so you could talk dirty to me. But I’m afraid I have to draw the line at letting you call me mommy ... or daddy, for that matter,” she quipped.
“I can think of a few other words for you.”
“I’m sure you can, but think of them while you’re packing. Vacation’s over.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” she said with an impatient sniff.
“Why am I packing?”
“Because that’s what people do when they take a trip, unless they plan on traveling naked, and if that’s your plan, then please let me know so I can make sure I never have the same itinerary as you.”
“Hold on. What trip?”
“The one you’re taking,” she said as if speaking to a moron.
“Why don’t we start over, and you tell me what’s going on?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied in that annoyingly chipper tone she adopted whenever she knew she was pissing me off. “You’re going to China.”
“What?! Why the hell would I go to China?”
“James’s orders. He called and requested your presence.”
“Why?”
“Beats me. You can ask him that in person in about two days.”
“I don’t even have a passport,” I protested.
“Wow, that’s kind of sad,” she said. “Not surprising, mind you, just sad. Fortunately, you don’t need one.”
“Why wouldn’t I need a passport to get into China? Pretty sure they check those things there.”
“Because it’s a long flight, and since commercial airlines tend to have rules against their passengers going up in smoke when sunlight hits them, I made some alternate arrangements.”
“Define alternate arrangements.”
“You, my friend,” she replied, putting even more chipperness into her voice, “have been booked into a first class coffin in the cargo hold.”
“WHAT?!” I screamed into the phone.
“You’re welcome. By the way, you might want to pack a pillow.” Click.
Bitch!
♦ ♦ ♦
Scary Dead Things
Available in ebook, paperback, and audio
Author’s Note
There’s an old saying, “Death is easy, comedy is hard.” Personally, I don’t buy it. I don’t think comedy is particularly hard at all. Why? It’s not because I think I’m some kind of comic genius. Trust me, I’m not that delusional. It’s because no matter how lame a joke you make, or how badly you deliver it, someone, somewhere, will laugh at it. There, comedy – bad comedy, but still. Horror, on the other hand, is hard. Now, I’m not talking about the ‘Jason jumps out of the bushes and you scream like a little girl’ type of horror. That’s fairly easy to do. My youngest could jump out of the shadows and get that result if he timed it right. I’m talking about true horror, the type of horror that makes you afraid to turn off the lights at night; the type of horror that makes you think, and not about good things. That’s hard, especially in written format. Of the dozens upon dozens of horror novels I’ve read in my life, I can only think of two that genuinely scared me. That’s not to say the rest were bad, far from it. But only two gave me reason to want to check under my bed before going to sleep.
Being that I’m not a complete prick, I’ll be happy to give credit where credit is due, and tell you which ones: Stephen King’s It, and The Relic by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. The latter is more of a techno-thriller than pure horror, but it’s pretty damn scary nevertheless.
If that’s the type of book you were looking for when you grabbed this one, then I shall apologize profusely. Please feel free to go pick up one of the above. It’s okay. I promise not to be jealous…much.
As for this book, it falls into one of my favorite sub-genres: horror comedy. No, I’m not talking about dopey slapstick like Scary Movie, or its legion of increasingly unfunny sequels. I’m talking horror comedy of the type in which a terrifying situation is thrust upon main characters that just don’t give a fuck. We're talking guys who are too busy spouting one-liners or hitting on the babes to notice that the world has literally gone to hell around them. Army of Darkness and Ghostbusters are, in my not so humble opinion, classic examples of this genre. Think about it. The coming of Gozer the Gozarian could easily be construed as a soul-crushing horrific fate for the people of the world, if not for one Dr. Peter Venkman, who just couldn’t be bothered to take it all that seriously.
This is that type of story. Hopefully you enjoyed the ride. And just remember: there may very well be creatures writhing in the darkness waiting for you, but sometimes the thing they expect least is to be met not with screams, but with attitude.
That being said, all that remains are my hopes that you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Rick G.
About the Author
Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.
Defilers beware!
Rick Gualtieri is the author of several books, including:
THE TOME OF BILL SERIES
Bill the Vampire
Night Stalker
Scary Dead Things
The Mourning Woods
Holier Than Thou
Sunset Strip
Goddamned Freaky Monsters
Half A Prayer
The Wicked Dead
Shining Fury
The Last Coven
GET BENT!
Bigfoot Hunters
Devil Hunters
Lycan Moon
Midnite’s Daughter
Sign up for Rick’s Newsletter: www.rickgualtieri.com/newsletter
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Follow Bill the Vampire on Facebook: www.facebook.com/BilltheVampire
Bill The Vampire (The Tome of Bill Book 1) Page 30
