Insight and education for end-of-life care

Nonfiction

Date Published: 12/1/2024

 

 

The Chronicles are an essential and informative read for hospice nurses, caregivers and others interested in end of life. Journey through 29 amazing stories of an Alaskan Hospice nurse with incredible people and learn about pain, symptom management and grieving. Through their love and loss, find encouragement and inspiration in these real-life lessons on this specialty of nursing not taught in the classroom. Hospice . . . Hospitum . . . Hospitality

 

Early Reviews

“Esther’s book is a must read for any nurse across the lifespan. She has not simply put together a collection of powerful stories of dealing with death and the dying process, but each story closes with the pearls of wisdom each patient and family were taught about end of life. Esther shows us, story by story, that being there to provide for the needs of peace, comfort, and love of the patient and their families in those last moments is one of the most important vows a nurse can keep.”

Christi M. Angelo, APRN-BC, F/AC  Hospice and Acute Care - Alaska

 

“This account of an experienced hospice nurse in rural Alaska is both inspiring and informative.  Esther’s interactions with patients demonstrate both the depth of her humanity and experience with patients toward the end of life. For the intended audience of Hospice nurses and caregivers, it provides a framework and clinical information while maintaining a truly compassionate undertone. Other audiences will be moved, informed and inspired...”

Patty Hewson C.R.N.P. Adult Primary Care - Pennsylvania

 

“The Chronicles depict how cultural beliefs and traditions one is raised with can help bring peace to the patient in knowing what their final journey holds. Faith, hope, and love are epitomized through Esther’s work.”

Angela Watson, MSN, BSN, BA, RN Case Manager Indian Health Services - New Mexico

 

“You will find a treasure chest of valuable knowledge to support any of the disciplines of the Hospice team. Every chapter connects you with the real dynamics of individuals and families as they walk through the end stages of life. I warn you now, some of these insightful stories will bring a tear, but also provide real and helpful expertise that will further enable you to do your calling better.”

David J. Gibson - Ordained Minister and Hospice Chaplain - Indiana

Introduction

The Chronicles offers insight and education for end-of-life care, including pain and symptom management on specific disease processes.  The stories are for Hospice Nurses and caregivers, providing care for patients and loved ones. The Chronicles of love, endurance, faithful companionship, and pain will inspire you as you experience the stories unfold in the Alaskan setting. 

The Chronicles include 25 different disease processes, remarkable caregivers, the grieving processes, the four levels of care Hospice provides, and healthy boundaries that need to be in place with patient and caregiver relationships. Practical information is shared about the disease process when one enters Hospice and the journey experienced until the patient dies. You will find beauty in seeing the elements of the physical, mental, spiritual and emotional being and how those intertwine in each patient’s story.  Caregivers will gain insight into symptoms associated with each disease and how to provide comfort to their family members.

Hospice Nurses often feel a calling to this type of nursing. One way or another, we were drawn into it. Most nurses don’t say, “I want to deal with death and dying every day!” Over the course of one’s life, you engage and meet with circumstances that compel you to learn more about this process of life that is so taboo in our Western culture. The spark in your heart for end-of-life caregiving develops over time leading you to support and grow that passion with more knowledge and purpose.

Caregivers who can care for their loved ones and participate in the process; whether in a skilled facility, assisted living home, hospital, and in the home setting; are a resource of strength and kindness to the patient when walking this journey. You are loved and appreciated by every Hospice team member!

Some stories will invoke deep emotion. Not everyone has a peaceful death. You will explore the reasons why this can happen and understand this concept more after diving into the pages ahead!

 

About the Author

Esther Pepper, RN, BSN, is a Certified Hospice and Palliative Care Nurse who was raised in Alaska and has lived there most of her life. She has 20 years of experience as a nurse, 16 of which have been in Hospice care. She found her calling and passion for end of life early in her nursing career. She is dedicated to training new nurses into the field of Hospice and works as a Hospice Case Manager in South Central Alaska.

 

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Teaser Tuesday ~ ACE - Riptide MC by Anne Kane

 

Riptide MC (#1)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: 1/3/25

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

Someone took a shot at my Emma – and signed his own death warrant. No one hurts my woman and lives.

 

Emma:

After witnessing a cold-blooded killing, I run to the only person I can think of who can protect me. Ace is my high school fantasy turned big bad biker. Did I mention sizzling, sexy, and hot? He’s everything I know I should stay away from, but his touch makes me melt and when his lips devour mine, I forget why I shouldn’t let him near me. But he’s more than just a one-night stand. He makes me feel safe. Loved. Wanted. All the things I’ve never had -- and that’s addictive as hell. Ace makes it clear he wants to claim me, make me part of his biker family, and keep me by his side. And I want him. Forever.

 

Ace:

I’ve always had a thing for Emma, but back in high school, she dated my little brother. So I moved on. Joined the Navy SEALs. Re-upped a few times, but when that last mission went south, I knew it was time to bail. Feeling lost and adrift, I came home. And patched into the Riptide MC. Finally felt like I had a home and a family. I didn’t think life could get any better. A knock on my door in the middle of the night changed everything. Emma fell into my arms, terrified and wounded. Some asshole shot my Emma. He may not know it yet, but he just signed his own death warrant. Once I’ve taken care of her, I’m going to convince Emma to stay with me. Forever.

 

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Anne Kane

 

Emma

It was midnight by the time I left work. My shitty excuse for a car had crapped out on me yesterday and transit didn’t run this late, so I had to walk home. Short enough walk, but this wasn’t the safest part of town for a woman alone to traverse after dark. I knew better than to take the shortcut through the park, especially at night. The bad guys came out when the sun went down, clinging to the shadows in the park as they went about their illegal activities. Drug deals, illicit arms sales and who knew what else. Still, that route would cut the length of my walk in half, and after slinging drinks at the bar all night, the temptation was too much to resist.

My aching feet won the argument with my common sense, and I risked it.

It was dark under the towering trees. The heavy branches blocked out the majority of the moonlight, making it feel eerily like the setting of a horror movie. More than half of the lights on the concrete path had been knocked out by kids throwing rocks. I stepped up my pace.

I was halfway through the park when the sound of a gunshot rang out loud in the still night air. I jumped, automatically turning toward the sounds.

In the clearing off to my left side stood a big guy holding a gun. He had it pointed at another guy who had a splash of red spreading from a hole in his chest. The shooter took two more shots, hitting the other guy right between the eyes. The victim crumpled to the ground as blood and brains splattered from the back of his head. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. A thin trickle of blood trailed from the corner of his lips and splashed the ground. In the light of the full moon, I could see the life fading from his eyes as he stared at the man holding the smoking gun.

I slapped my hand over my mouth, desperately trying to stifle a scream. I wasn’t successful. I stood rooted to the spot, my mind trying to process the horror of what I’d just witnessed.

The murderer swiveled and looked straight at me. He was a huge monster of a man, with tattoos covering every available inch of skin on his heavily muscled arms. His chest was wide, and no doubt just as muscled beneath a skintight shirt.

His eyes were cold and hard as he brought the gun around and pointed the deadly weapon straight at me.

Survival instinct kicked in. I turned and ran.

Shots rang out behind me. One. Two. The bullets went wide, the shooter’s aim hindered by the moving target.

Me.

I was the moving target. He was trying to kill me. The third shot scorched a fiery path across my side. When I brought my hand down to my ribs, I could feel sticky dampness oozing from a ragged hole in my jacket. A coppery smell filled the air. Blood.

No time to stop and assess the damage. That wasn’t a warning shot -- it was meant to kill. Hopefully, that was a regulation gun, with a six-shot magazine like you see in the movies. Three shots to commit murder, and three fired at me. The asshole was going to have to reload before he could finish me off.

Enough time for me to escape? I had to hope so. One hand pressed to the throbbing wound on my side, I plunged into the heavy shrubs lining the pathways. I’d be an easier target if I stayed on the paths. Better to get a few scratches. At least it was too dark away from the path to follow the trail of blood I was undoubtedly leaving behind.

The murderer didn’t waste any time coming after me. His progress was marked by heavy thumps of his boot as he charged down the path. Hopefully he hadn’t seen me dart into the bushes. “You can’t escape, you little bitch,” he snarled. “You’re pissing me off, and that’s going to make it worse when I catch up. Give up now and I’ll take it easy on you.”

I doubted that. Considering I’d just watched him kill someone in cold blood, he wasn’t likely to pat me on the head and send me on my way. I paused and crouched down beside a flowering shrub. My heart beat so loud it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. Looking around, I tried to figure out the shortest way out of the park.

“Did you see which way she went?”

“No, but she didn’t pass us, so she must be heading for the road.”

Shit! There were two of them. I hadn’t seen a second man, but then again, I hadn’t stuck around long enough to take in details.

“Makes sense. We need to stop her.” The sound of branches snapping filled the air.

“These damn bushes are thick.” Even muttering to himself, the murderer sounded closer. And cold-blooded. As if he were discussing an annoying insect, not a human being. “You recognize the bitch?”

There was a long pause. “She did look familiar. Maybe works one of the bars in the brewery district? I think she might be a bartender. That shock of red hair should make her easy to find.”

“Pity we didn’t get a pic.”

That remark was met with a derisive snort. “If we had time to get a picture, we would have had time to end her and solve the problem.”

“Do you think she can ID us?”

“I doubt it. It’s dark enough out, even with the damn moon shining and she only saw us for a few seconds. I’m not even sure she saw both of us.”

“Doesn’t matter. The boss ain’t going to be happy with a witness running loose. We need to find her and wrap up the loose ends.”

I had no illusions about how they intended to wrap up the loose end, meaning me. I needed to get out of here and call the cops.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to move. I veered to my left, away from the two thugs. Weaving my way as quietly as I could between the ornamental shrubbery, I stayed low to the ground. I didn’t dare stand up and make myself an easy target. That damn full moon was not helping me now. The thought of being outlined against the sky terrified me, and the bullet wound on my side hurt like hell.

The distance between me and the assassination squad widened. They were following the path, but headed in the other direction, presumably directly out of the park. Which meant I needed to circle around and exit by a different route.

Thug number two raised his voice. “Come on out and discuss this, girl. It’s not what you think. We can explain.”

That would be interesting. How did he think he could explain shooting someone at point blank range? And the fact that he’d taken a few potshots at me didn’t inspire much trust on my part. Not to mention their talk of ending the problem, with me being said problem.

I worked my way in the opposite direction, lengthening the distance between me and them. It felt like forever before I reached the edge of the park, not too far from where I’d originally entered. Seems I’d been walking in a circle.

I took a careful look around to make sure it was safe to emerge before scurrying across the road and into the sheltering darkness of an alley. I reached into my pocket for my cell phone to call for help. Not that I had a whole pile of friends who could come to my rescue, but the cops needed to know there was a dead body in the park. Maybe, if they were quick enough, they could catch the murderous twosome before they escaped the area.

Crap! The phone wasn’t in my pocket. I knew I’d tucked it in there when I left work, which meant it had fallen out somewhere in the park.

An icy river of fear trickled its way down my spine. If the murderers found it, they’d know who I was. Sure, there was a password, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think it couldn’t be hacked, and guys who committed murder wouldn’t balk at illegally hacking a phone. Even if they didn’t manage to bypass the password, my home screen picture showed me grinning like an idiot while standing in front of the bar where I worked, the name of the bar clearly visible above my head. I thought it was cute when I tagged it as the home screen picture. It might as well say, come and get me!

Dumb. Dumb and Dumber.

Now what? I couldn’t very well go home and wait for the bad guys to figure out where to find me, and I definitely couldn’t go back to the bar.

The rustling of bushes in the distance made me jump. Sitting here stewing wasn’t helping any. Sooner or later, those guys would double back to find me.

Where to go presented an issue. It wasn’t like I had a loving family waiting to protect me. I only knew one person who might be able to help me. Then again, I’d dated his little brother in high school. I may have burnt that bridge behind me.

Justin Maclean and I had been close once upon a time. Friends close, not lovers close, although we had dated. It kept the other guys away. It was a tough neighborhood, and we’d had each other’s backs. I’d had a crush on his older brother James though. Tall, dark and brooding. Just what every teenaged girl longs for.

Turned out the younger Maclean and I had very different dreams.

 

About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

 

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Release Blitz ~ Mother of Red Mountains - A Novel by Apple An

 

Title: Mother of Red Mountains: A Novel of a Woman's Journey Through Revolutionary China

Author: Apple An

Genre: Historical Fiction

Cover Designer: GetCovers.com

Publisher: Voiced Heard Publishing, LLC

Publication Date: Dec. 30^th, 2024

Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

Blurb:
An ambitious civil engineer desperately wants to protect her baby girls in the shadow of China’s tumultuous mid-20th century.

 

Despite tragedies in her childhood, Jun crafts a stable life by changing her name twice to fit in a male-dominated and politically charged society. Ambitious and high-achieving in her career, she seeks help from her in-laws to care for the girls.

 

But when the Red Guards threaten the young family because of their association with in-laws' capitalist class, Jun worries their very existence is in jeopardy.

 

With their safety frequently compromised, will Jun triumph over the grave danger she encounters and successfully protect and maintain a stable life for her young family?”

 

If you like strong female protagonists facing mountainous challenges and are interested in people's lives in 1930s to 1960s China, you will find Jun's life journey fascinating yet relatable.

Apple An is a professor at Syracuse University. She was a historian in her profession and a founding editor-in-chief. Over almost 30 years, she has published 200+ academic articles and three books. Her research has been cited 016,000+ times by scholars from many disciplines. She has been recognized 23 times for teaching, research, and service. 

 

Apple started her literary journey in 2017. In 2023, she published her debut memoir, Las Crosses: An Unwavering Journey to a New Life in America. The book has been among Amazon's best sellers in several categories including Biographies & Memoirs of Asian & Asian Americans, History of China, Asian American Demographic Studies, and Biographies of Educators. It is selected as the finalist for the 2023 Annual IAN Book of the Year Awards for two categories: Women’s Non-Fiction and Multicultural Non-Fiction. 

 

In December 2024, Apple will publish her first historical fiction, Mother of Red Mountains. 

 

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Book Blitz ~ The Others by T. C. Weber

 

Sci-Fi / Action Adventure

Date Published: 12-25-2024

Publisher: Freedom Thorn Press

 

When a corpse with webbed feet and other aquatic adaptations washes ashore during a hurricane, the county medical examiner calls in marine biologist Will Myers for assistance. The deceased’s mysterious sister, Andreia, claims the body and asks Will to help figure out how her brother died. Will and Andreia bond over shared tragedies and a yearning to heal a dying ocean as they seek to learn how her brother spent his final days.

Andreia brings Will to her undersea home, part of a hidden civilization inhabited by smugglers, hackers, treasure hunters, and traders—all members of a different species, driven to the edge of extinction by human diseases and climate change. As feelings between the two grow, the investigation into her brother’s death leads to a sinister plot by a fanatical cabal. Together, Will and Andreia must find a way to save both humanity and the ocean without imperiling the existence of her species.

About the Author

As an ecologist who grew up diving and fishing in the Florida Keys, Mr. Weber drew on his knowledge of the setting and relevant science to bring it to life. His cyberpunk novel Sleep State Interrupt (See Sharp Press) was a finalist for the 2017 Compton Crook award for best first speculative fiction novel. Two sequels, The Wrath of Leviathan and Zero-Day Rising, followed, as well as an alternate history novel, Born in Salt; a post-apocalyptic horror novella, The Survivors; and a satire of local government, The Council. He has also had numerous peer-reviewed scientific papers and book chapters published. Mr. Weber is a member of Poets & Writers, the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association, the Horror Writers Association, and the Maryland Writers Association.

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Book Tour ~ The Storm Descends - Demon Storm Series by Valerie Storm

 

Demon Storm, Book 7

 

Young Adult Fantasy

Date Published: 12-13-2024

Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing

 

The Catalyst is quiet

The Catalyst is quiet.

Kari struggles with the damage she did when she lost control.  Her loved ones suffered at her hands, leaving Ari scarred in ways she will never be able to ignore.

How he survived?  Only the Seraph of Nalmi knows.

Then a request arrives, a simple task compared to everything else she has been through: travel as Freehaven's emissary and meet with Brianna, a now-ancient half demon who destroyed the first demon city across the sea - and who may have some information on defeating the Catalyst for good.  Kari, Ari, and Guine prepare to cross the Demon Sea...

But the shadows await them.

  

Kari knelt in a field of dark grass beneath a dark cloud pouring dark rain. Ari lay limp in her arms, dead to the world. She bowed her head over his prone body, colder than death even without the rain to drench them. It pattered, loud against her flicking ears—the only sound all around.

            “Wake up, Ari, please,” she whispered to his chest, clutching him tighter. “Please.” Her voice broke, and a wail wrenched free.

            “Love makes you weak.”

            Kari’s head shot up at the whisper, but there was no one around. There was only the rain, hissing now, each drop harder and sharper.

            “You are a plague.”

            The whispers came from the rain, now searing pinpricks rather than drops of frozen water. Gritting her teeth, Kari lifted Ari, held him close to her chest, and ran.

            “One day, you will wish for the power you forsake!”

            Kari’s feet sloshed through thick, black puddles. She slipped and barely managed to roll onto her back before she and Ari fell. She grunted, struggled to get back up with his weight.

            A beam of light broke the murky sky. Kari squinted at it; the sight filled her with an unexplainable, instinctual hope. She pushed off from the muddy ground—harder now with her and Ari both sopping wet—and ran for the light.

            “PLEASE!” she screamed to the sky. “SAVE HIM!”

            It was all she wanted; she would give anything—anything.

            “You have a destiny.” This whisper was deeper, ancient—a voice so full of raw power, it grabbed Kari’s spine and forced her to straighten. “Vessels do not earn worldly attachments.”

            Velthas. His pull was strong even now, even though she had not seen the Tree in weeks—months. Forced rigid, Kari dragged her eyes to the beam of light.

            “Holy light,” she managed through a jaw clenched shut. She curled her fingers around Ari. “I forsake everything else to you.”

            A ripple—the jarring snap of something breaking in her mind. Kari gasped and fell forward, barely catching herself on one hand before she collapsed on top of Ari.

            The rain slowed, she thought; at least, she felt the pattering on her back less. She closed her eyes, hoping, wishing, praying.

            Fingers touched her cheek. Her eyes flew open and found Ari’s eyes—green as the deepest forest. He lifted one corner of his mouth tiredly.

            “You’ll carry my faith, won’t you?” he whispered. “My light?”

About the Author

Valerie Storm was raised in Tucson, Arizona. Growing up, she fell in love with everything fantasy. When she wasn’t playing video games, she was writing. By age ten, she began to write her own stories as a way to escape reality. When these stories became a full-length series, she considered the path to sharing with other children & children-at/heart looking for a place to call home.

 

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Book Tour ~ Why We Fall - Why Pain and Suffering Are Our Greatest Teachers by Daniel Martinez

 

 

Why Pain and Suffering Are Our Greatest Teachers

 

Self-Help

Date Published: ‎August 26, 2024

Publisher: ‎ Mindstir Media

Have you ever questioned the importance behind the pain, suffering, and desperation we feel in life? Often times, it's easy for us to lose ourselves in the moment and not see the big picture of things. Yes, pain is uncomfortable, suffering is horrible, and desperation makes us feel like we're losing ourselves before we've had the opportunity to find ourselves. Often times, these emotions have so much they can teach us, yet we avoid them because we don't want to experience any kind of suffering in our lives.

In Why We Fall, I take you through a journey to uncover the truth behind the importance of these emotions in our lives. I walk you through the importance of learning to understand them and how to find the best way to cope with them. It's not an easy journey, but once you grasp the concepts and ideas that we'll discuss in the pages of this book, you'll find that living a fulfilling life and one that you feel satisfied with, has never been easier.

 

Being a warrior doesn’t mean that you never fall. It means that you’re courageous enough to recognize that you fell in the first place, that you’re courageous enough to accept it, and that you’re courageous enough to decide that you want to get back up again. That’s the true definition of becoming a warrior.

About the Author

It’s not easy. Before we move on, remember this. It’s like going against your own nature. You’re programmed to behave in a certain way. Your genetic code tells you that it’s ok to be the victim and to believe that everything that happens to you happens because there is a certain type of secret conspiracy working against you. We enjoy and crave being the victim. It’s comfortable and we like it. Easy things are what the mind naturally cherishes the most. Well, we’re going against this. We’re going to challenge ourselves to stop feeling sorry for ourselves and instead begin to think in a “problem-solving” mentality.

A true warrior has their values so aligned with God that no matter what happens they know that everything is happening according to God’s plan. There’s no need to feel scared or uncertain because they know that God is testing them and making sure that they’re following the right path. A true warrior knows that they’re going to be tough times and that they need to find ways to solve them because only then will they be able to say that they got stronger. Only then can they actually find a sign of improvement. Only then can they feel like they’re making progress and moving on. Even when they fall, they fall forward. Falling back is not an option for them, because they know that that’s letting the victim’s mentality kick in, and they don’t do that anymore.

 

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Book Tour ~ Blood Family - The Martyr's Vow Series by Eric Avedissian

 

 

Book 3 of The Martyr's Vow series

 

Horror/Paranormal

Date Published: 12-15-2024

Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing

 

A bloodline curse haunts monster hunter Armand Tarkanian, granting him the ability to summon the dead. But the more spirits he channels, the more supernatural energy threatens to tear him apart.

An unexpected invitation from distant relatives gives him a chance to learn more about his curse. What Armand finds in their moldering mansion is an odd assortment of Armenian traditions, dark secrets, and personal grudges.

Besides a history of genocide and tragedy plaguing his kindred, things aren’t what they seem: paintings shift and change, bones hang from trees, and the family’s elusive patriarch is a dakhanavar – a vampire from Armenian folklore.

When his undead host hungers for vengeance, Armand finds himself trapped between worlds.

He must choose: either take the Martyr’s Vow and pledge to sacrifice himself, or succumb to the dark impulses that claimed his ancestors.

 

Blood Family is a harrowing tale of generational trauma, folk magic, and ripping free from the past.

 Excerpt

 

The biker in the corner has murder in his eyes, and he’s staring right at me.

He’s a Neanderthal—a brute with a wild mane of unkempt hair and a

beard down to his nipples, like some kind of hog-riding Gandalf. He

occasionally glances at Vonnie, his mouth curled downward.

Breath reeking and leather jacket caked in what I hope isn’t blood, the

beast grunts loudly to himself. At one point, he pauses and scratches his

sideburns, like a dog with fleas.

Honky-tonk music from the jukebox fills the air and twanging guitars

assault my ears.

Yee-haw.

Not that Vonnie and I aren’t strangers to places like this. We’re both

wearing our denim vests—biker club patches prominently displayed.

Legion of the Lamb. Fresno Chapter.

The clientele in that dive bar on a lonely stretch of Highway 99 outside

Fowler is the kind of “grizzled” that would punch you in the mouth for

looking at them the wrong way.

And now I’m staring at the barbarian who is still glaring at me.

He’s thrown down beer after beer, and, after number four, homeboy gets

really nosey and encroaches on my personal space.

“What’s his problem?” Vonnie mutters to me.

“Maybe they’ve never seen a beautiful woman in here,” I say.

Vonnie cracks a smile. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s it.”

I sip my beer, a cold pilsner we paid way too much for. “My, Miss

Hudgens, what could it be then?”

“I think it’s that they don’t want a beautiful Black woman in here,”

Vonnie says, gesturing at the nearby wall with her head. Her hands slip into

her pockets, where I know she’s got her brass knuckles.

My eyes wander over the bar’s decor; shadowboxes filled with medals,

a framed proclamation from the Daughters of the Confederacy, more biker

paraphernalia than you can shake a stick at, and a framed photo of Adolf

Hitler hanging near a Nazi SS flag.

“Oh, great. It’s a racist bar,” I mumble.

Vonnie also scans the room.

How had we missed it? I guess once you’ve been on the road for hours

and you’re tired and thirsty, you don’t immediately notice the decor.

The creep in the corner pushes himself away from his table and starts to

stagger over. He has an awkward and stilted gait—like he’s shit his pants.

He smells like that’s possible.

“Let’s see what the caveman wants,” I mutter to Vonnie.

The biker stares at Vonnie like he’s going to spit on her.

“We don’t get many darkies in here,” he says.

My eyes stray from the hairy beast to do a head count of all of the other

bikers who are also staring at me and Vonnie. I realize that, while the music

is playing, no one is talking. If shit’s going down, it’s going down soon.

Instead of getting angry, Vonnie leans back against the bar, her hands

still in her pockets, and replies, “What? You say something?”

Now, the biker can do one of two things: Pretend that he didn’t hear her

and repeat what he said or throw down.

Since I don’t really want the latter, I clear my throat and intervene.

“Excuse me, my dude...” I immediately pause when the Confederate

flag hanging on the wall catches my attention. “I see you’re no stranger to

lost causes.”

“What?” He’s in my face now. His hot breath smells like ass and he

looms over me like a mountain.

“What I meant was, we don’t want trouble.” I get to my feet and stare

him down. Me and Vonnie kill things that go bump in the night, so I’ll be

damned if I let some knuckle-dragger intimidate her.

“Too late for that, you race-mixing piece of shit. Go on, before I kick

your ass.” It feels like he’s a foot and a half taller than me, and massive.

The name “Gary” is embroidered on his dirty denim vest.

When you’ve had as many near-death brushes as I have, you always

wonder the same thing. So, is this how it ends? Beaten to death by a biker

named Gary in a white supremacist bar?

I glance away from Gary and notice that everyone else in the bar is

wearing the same denim jacket. Large patches identify them as “Fenrir’s

Minions,” a one-percenter biker gang with a less-than-stellar reputation. I

imagine these guys participate in drug running, armed robbery, and the odd

murder.

And me and Vonnie are right in the middle of their turf.

“Look, Gary. I don’t want any trouble...” I begin, but Gary interrupts

me.

“Well, you got trouble, motherfucker.” He growls, like a feral dog.

“Let’s start over. I’m Tark. Me and my girlfriend have been riding for

hours and...”

“That... thing is your girlfriend, huh?” Gary smiles. A bunch of his teeth

are missing. I wouldn’t mind making sure he loses a few more.

“Excuse me? I’m not a thing. I’m a person,” Vonnie says.

You could hear a pin drop. Not even the bartender, a bald man with

sleeve tattoos up to his shoulders, makes a peep.

All is silent except for Gary’s low rasping growl.

“You fucking race mixer!” Gary gets up in my face. Ignorant pissants

like him are always overconfident when they shouldn’t be. “You don’t even

look white. I’ll bet you’re some kind of foreign piece of shit. What are you?

Arab? You a terrorist, boy?”

“I’m Armenian.”

“What the fuck is that?” Gary grunts.

Second by second, I realize that this is not going to end well.

“Come on, Tark. Let’s get out of here,” Vonnie nudges my elbow.

Vonnie has always had better instincts than me. We’ve spent years

hunting monsters—from vampires to demons to ghostly serial killers—so a

brutish racist in a dive bar isn’t worrying me. But protecting humanity sort

of meant all humanity, including ignorant turds like Gary.

“You letting your bitch do the talking for you?” Gary chuckles. Some

skinheads nearby laugh.

So far in my life, I’ve been abused by a domineering uncle, pushed

around by my bigoted father, tortured by a cult leader, marked by the

Armenian goddess of death, and attacked by everything from a possessed

serial killer, ghosts, and zombies. If it’s from this world or beyond, it’s

made my life a living hell. The last thing I’m going to do is take shit from a

nonentity like Gary the Racist Biker.

“Listen, you worthless motherfu –”

I don’t get the rest out.

Gary pulls his fist back to punch me. Vonnie moves a few steps to the

side and I grab the biker’s arm, throwing him off balance. With a quick

lunge forward, I put my other hand on the back of Gary’s head and drive

him face first against the notched wood of the bar. I catch a glint of metal in

Vonnie’s hand as she brings her fist down against Gary the Racist Biker’s

jaw. He slumps over, out like a light.

About the Author

ERIC AVEDISSIAN is an adjunct professor and speculative fiction author. His published work includes the novels Accursed Son, Mr. Penny-Farthing, Midnight at Bat Hollow, and the role-playing game Ravaged Earth. His short stories appear in various anthologies, including Across the Universe, Great Wars, and Rituals & Grimoires. Avedissian received a 2024 Fellowship in Prose from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts. He lives in New Jersey with his wife and a ridiculous number of books. Find him online at www.ericavedissian.com if you dare.

 

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