Monday, December 19, 2011

Annual Holiday Party

You really do have to love the holidays. I recently hosted my annual party and friends and family from all around came over and enjoyed the eggnog, hot chocolate, and fire pit.  The air cooled down a bit even if this is Florida and even if I had to lower the thermostat to 66 degrees.

Alex Denmon knows how to rock an ugly Christmas sweater

Evening highlights include:

My friend Eddie falling asleep on the couch as the party raged on

Eddie's pot-roast was a huge hit!

My friend Ryan and his girlfriend were misidentified as Zach Braff and Jennifer Garner

I almost lit my sleeve on fire

My meatballs were a hit, thank you crock-pot goddess

Ruchelle Owens, winner of the riddle, showed up and seemed to have a great time

My cat figured out how to open doors

One of the guests, a female named Sara, decided to turn on Call of Duty at 3am.

The hostess with the most-est continues to impress

No one was maimed, died, or got arrested (tame party, sounds like weaksauce but it wasn't)

My niece danced to Sexy and I Know It and at the age of three looks like a potential diva.  She made me watch eleven times as she danced and then also refused to dance until everyone washed their hands six times.

The police helmet from the 2007 hat party made its way back out via Alex Denmon's head

My Dad and Paula went on a beer run and showed up with three cases of beer to add to my two cases and three bottles of liquor

Also noteworthy and important:

Lindsey made her beans again

Josh did not drink a deadly tea, though he almost did

Craig and Stacey came in from Orlando- no party works without them

Tre and Min, always wonderful, let me act ridiculous and it was great to see them and add their Christmas present under my mini-tree.

Mike and Elena came to their first Holiday party in my house and really amped things up

My good friend Brent and his wife Kim showed up (it has been a while since I have seen them out and about)

Josh, Dave, and Alex helped create the world's best gamer / nerd photo of grown men spelling out COD with their hands.

Dana took the picture and then made fun of us in her pleasantly biting way that we all adore....

The party really set the tone for Christmas and hopefully next year those who didn't make it will be able to join us!

Monday, November 28, 2011

Black Friday and Giveaway Update!

As of right now 333 people have signed up to win one of three signed copies of For Nothing.  My apologies to my international friends.  I will hold an international ebook giveaway soon.  I hope that will make amends for this purely U.S. driven contest.

There are 2 days left to sign up for this giveaway. Goodreads is hosting the giveaway so please feel free to log in and sign up!

Sign up HERE

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.  I completed my third Thanksgiving celebration on Sunday so needless to say I am turkey-ed out.  But there are plenty of things to be thankful for:

1)  My wonderful family and friends

2)  Being able to have three Thanksgiving meals

3)  Pants with a forgiving waistline

4)  Avoiding the classic "meat sweats"

5)  Sweet libations in abundance

6)  Avoiding all the speed traps between Miami and Tampa, and Tampa and New Port Richey

7)  Sleeping through you crazy folks spending $52 Billion on Black Friday.  Crazy sale hunting hounds!

8)  Did I say sleeping through Black Friday?  I read that one person was stabbed, another trampled, and an entire store hit with mace.  You know you can buy a lot of this stuff online right?

9)  Mom's homemade cookies

10)  I can almost smell Christmas.  And if I couldn't, the stores will make certain I FEEL Christmas.  I saw my first Christmas displays this weekend...probably because I don't shop often and failed to notice them go up just after Halloween.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Give away time! For Nothing on Goodreads

So it is time to do another signed book giveaway!  This one is running through Goodreads in advance of the release of Buffalo Soldiers.  As of this second over 30 people have signed up but don't worry! There are THREE copies being given away by yours truly.

I even promise to devalue it in advance with my sloppy signature.  Wow this sounds more and more like a once in a lifetime opportunity!

Anyway, here it is: --->

Not here...the the right... ---->

Monday, November 14, 2011

Screenplay: For Nothing complete

The first draft of For Nothing, as it pertains to the world of screenplays, is now complete thanks to my good friend Thomas Humphreys.  Don't let his dabbling with alcohol and nonsensical Welshman ways fool you.  This man is a seriously talented writer.

If you are uncertain what goes into adapting a novel into a screenplay, let me tell you it is not easy.


- The novel is 280 pages, roughly.  The screenplay needs to be under 120 pages.  There is an axiom that a page of a screenplay is worth one minute of film time.  To cut a novel by 60% and still convey the original story is a monumental task.

How monumental?  At the moment it is about 180 pages.  So where to cut the next 60 pages becomes problematic to say the least.

- You have an author who considers the novel his baby, and you must please him.  I hope I wasn't tremendously picky through the process, but Thomas was very patient and kind enough to let me put my two cents in on a few moments through the process.  If impossible sinners could be saints, he might be one.

- Don't mess up the story, readers will know and will call you out for it.  All while cutting out 60% of the story...did I mention that?


I may or not have made several promises.

Items said to have been mentioned include but are not limited to:

- A round of shots at a local American bar.

- To attempt to work in a small role for his actor brother, Mike Humphreys, if we ever get the chance.

- To write this blog.

All in all not a bad deal for a superb piece of work.  Though I did have to mention that Americans really don't say bollocks.  The term is beneath our civilized society.

Follow Tom on Twitter here: @ 

Follow him on Facebook here:  His Facebook Page

Follow his actor brother Mike here: His Facebook Page 

How can you not like people who hangout and get dirty like this?

Monday, November 7, 2011

Cover of Buffalo Soldiers: An Upstate New York Mafia Tale book 2 in the series...

Jesse Horst has once again blessed me with some fine work for the cover of my novel.  The Buffalo Soldiers artwork is phenomenal.  For more of Jesse's work go here: AWESOME ART

The novel is almost completed and December 1 looks like the release date.

Spread the word!

Friday, October 21, 2011

Dark Places; Halloween Special Part 2

Lucy rolled over leaving her wet and mascara-streaked pillow case behind her turned head.  She blinked until the moist lining around her eyes stuck heavily to her lashes and she glanced at the mug of tea that still held three-quarters of her drink.  Her trembling hand reached out, but she knew she needn't touch it to know that the mug was cold, its contents colder still.  She microwaved the drink half a dozen times already but her body didn't want to hold anything down and after the first incident she decided a dry mouth was better than a sore throat.

She looked past the tea and to the red lights of the digital clock on the nightstand.  At a quarter past two in the morning, Darren had been missing for close to sixteen hours.The police almost left without even taking notice of the small trail of blood down the stairs.  She had searched the basement for hours before and after the police left.

"Where did you see him last?" officer Thompson said after they arrived.  He was armed with a notepad and pencil, his gun resting lazily on his hip.

"I saw him here.  He went into the basement,"  she recalled between sobs. "He went down, about two minutes later I went to check and he wasn't there.  The door was shut. He never came out."

"Mrs. Stansason, where did he go after he left the basement?"  he sighed and looked down at his notepad as if it were a magic eight-ball with all the answers.

"What aren't you hearing?  He never left, that's what I'm saying to you!"  Lucy felt the heat rise into her face just recalling the nonchalance they tossed her way like left over scraps. "He went down, he never came back up."

"Tr to look at it from our point of view," the female cop said.  Lucy couldn't remember her last name and she didn't really care. "He isn't down there, so he must have come out.  The basement window is bolted and too high for him anyway.  This door is the only way out and you said you watched it the whole time after he closed it."  She looked at Lucy with darting, dark, eyes.  "So, Mrs. Stansason, where did he go?"

The conversation circled the drain of futility like that for hours with a few condescending questions like, "Are you on medication?" and "have you been drinking?" thrown into the mix just for agonizing fun.

Lucy rolled over and looked at the ceiling, the wooden blades whirled in a hypnotic rhythm of vapid promises. Streaks of moonlight threw themselves across the foot of her bed. She imagined Darren on the streets alone or worse kidnapped with some sick predator.  The fan continued its hum. She tucked her feet under her as she rolled to her side and brought her pillow into her arms where Darren had rested as a small child.  Her feet bit at her, protesting from the miles she walked around the neighborhood asking questions.  Some of those who answered their doors expressed their sympathy, some looked on her tear-streaked face and darting eyes with a mixture of worry and disinterest, and still others judged her motherhood with open contempt. She closed her eyes, shutting it all out until she could clearly picture Darren's bright smile and even brighter eyes.

The metal chain on the fan swayed back and forth, chiming every so often and allowing its voice to be added to the harmonizing blades gliding above the bed.  Her eyelids drooped as anvils attached to them.  The fan suddenly sounded like gentle waves lapping at the shore whispering her son's name.

Darren isn't asleep! He could be hurt!

Lucy snapped her eyes open.  She expected to see the fan and the moonlight and the red clock and her tea-mug, but what she saw instead stopped her heart and sucked the air straight out of her lungs.  She blinked her eyes and it was gone, or it drifted to the side, but each time she tried to focus, the translucent form had shifted and moved again.  But she knew her son in any form and through any haze of sleep.

"Darren," she mumbled.

Yes mother?

"Are you safe?  Tell me you're safe."  She felt the sleep flying from her mind but her body felt drugged and slow to react.  Her voiced sounded like a mouth stuffed with cotton.

Safe? Yes, I think so.  I don't feel pain mother.

"What happened?  Where are you?" Her heart rate accelerated and she felt it slamming against the top of her chest, but still she could not move.

I don't know. I think someone came for me. I mustn't say, he'll get mad and then he'll hurt me!

"Who will hurt you baby? Tell me, tell me Darren!"  She wiggled her fingers and felt her body jerk as if she had fallen.  Her eyes fluttered and Darren faded and the moonlight returned.

No mom!  I can't.  Oh no!  He's coming!  He's coming!

Lucy sat up in the bed, breaking free of her paralysis. Her eyes snapped open but her son, or the dream of her son, was gone.  She looked around the room allowing her heart a moment to slow down. She lay back on the bed.  "It was all a dream," she said to the dark room around her.

No one answered.  The silence beat against her ears like drums.  Silent base echoed, followed gradually by a scuffling snare.  Then a thud.

Lucy sat back up and looked out of her bedroom door to the long hallway that reach like a black tendril towards the kitchen.  At first she didn't see anything, only heard the small scuffling.  Then step by step, she saw him.  His shadow seemed darker, cutting across the dark hallway in a twelve foot silhouette that snaked across the floor.  Lucy stood up and took a tentative step towards him.  He came closer and then she ran to him, arms outstretched.

She slid to him on her knees, the carpet immediately burning her flesh as she fell before him and lifted his little body into her arms.  He smelled musty and his blue bed clothes were tattered.  Tears poured in rivers of liquid salt down her cheeks.  She squeezed him so hard she heard the air leave him and then she relaxed her grip and put him to the ground and back on his feet.

She could barely make out his features but she brushed the hair away from his face and away from a gash over his eye.  "My baby, my baby, my baby!"  His arms fell at his sides and she smoothed the wrinkles in his pajama sleeves and looked at him.

Before he said a word, she knew.

"I'm not your son Mrs. Stansason."

She knew he wasn't.  She knew her son in any form.

And then she screamed.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Halloween Update and Script Update for For Nothing

Hope you all had a great weekend.  Mine was relatively relaxing and I was able to write a bit so that was nice.  Weekends can sometimes get away from me because the family expects me to crawl out from under my rock every now and then to visit with them, but this was a kindly weekend and fortunately I was able to accomplish both my familial responsibilities as well as my professional goals.

I just have a few quick updates on this manic Monday...(pause for the 1980's flashback brought to you courtesy of the Bangles).

Update Uno:

The second installment of my Halloween Special Dark Places will post this week, most likely on Wednesday so keep an eye out.  I love the feedback so far, and thus the story weaving continues!

Update B (yes I know it is not 2, have a sense of humor!):

The screenplay being written by Welsh Lord, Thomas Humphreys is making serious progress.  In fact, he has decided to grace us with a snippet of the work in progress. So without further ado, please read on:

Catch up with writer Thomas Humphreys on Twitter @Mr_Frodo_Esq

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Dark Places; Halloween Special Part One

Darren ran through the kitchen chasing the bouncing rubber ball that ricocheted off of a counter top and then off the pantry door. His knobby legs were small but moved fast enough that he could easily beat the other children from around the block in footraces.  He loved the feel of the wind moving through his hair when he was allowed out of the house.  Some kids didn't enjoy running, but Darren loved to race anyone who was willing.

He always won.

"Darren! Cut that out!" His mom loved to tell him to stop doing things.

He slid across the tiled floor in his fresh white socks and reached out as the blue and red rubber ball changed direction and sped towards his face.  He snapped his wrist around and caught it, chest heaving from the sprint.  The red emblem on the ball matched the emblem on his blue cotton pajama shirt.  His pants matched as well but he liked to tuck his pants into his socks so he looked like he wore white superhero boots.

His mother stooped down, still holding the pan she was cleaning, and grabbed the ball out of his hand. "You have so much energy!  Can you please just relax until I'm done cleaning?  Then we'll go to the park. I promise."

Darren let go of the ball and ran over to the counter where his orange juice waited just where he left it.  The house smelt of fresh cooked bacon and his mouth tasted of it's remnants.  He looked over at his mother, humming a tune he couldn't place.  She really was the best cook in the world, he was sure of it.  He swallowed the citrus down in between gulps of air.  Superheros didn't get tired. He was going to have to train harder.  The park was good for that. The swings, the jungle-gym, the tires, they all were great to practice on.

His mom finished drying the pan and walked across the kitchen to put it away.  Darren knew he was in trouble the second it happened.  She spun around just in time to catch the large toy truck on the ankle.  Darren squinted as she exhaled in pain.  He felt bad that she hurt herself, but he felt a bit more bad for himself.  She was going to yell at him, he knew it.

She didn't disappoint.  "Darren!  Pick up your truck.  How many times do I have to tell you?"  She lifted her foot up and rolled the sock down.  Darren could already see a red mark.

"Want me to get ice?" he asked.

"No.  What I want is for you to take your truck downstairs and put it away."

Darren felt his heart rate speed up.  He hated the basement.  He hated its smell.  He hated the wet feel of it.   He hated how dark it was.  He hesitated.

"Now! Darren."  She gave him that look that promised a red bottom.

"I hate it down there," he whispered.  He picked up the truck anyway.

"Everyone hates basements.  Now go put your truck away."   She gingerly placed her foot back on the tile and flexed her foot.

He carried the truck under his arm, it was heavy and nearly half the length of his body.  It was the only truck he had that could actually carry all of his army men standing up. He stood in front of the heavy door that blocked the musky basement from the rest of the house.  He pushed it open and swung his hand around to the left of the door, groping for the light switch.  He pungent smell of wet stone wafted up to meet him.  The bit of day light that hit the stone stairs showed the cracking foundation and webs where spiders had taken up residence.  He flicked the switch, bathing the stairway in a soft yellow glow.  The light gave just enough illumination to allow a peak down the stairs and into the suffocating darkness.

Darren took a deep breath and put a trembling foot on the second stair down.

Superheros are scared of nothing!

He took another step.  His heart kicked back and forth inside his throat like his rubber bouncing ball.  He willed himself forward and down, down into the deep blackness underneath the house. Halfway down the steps Darren felt a breeze brush across his face as it traveled up the stairs and behind him.  His neck prickled with goosebumps and he felt cold.  The basement always felt cold.

He looked back up the stairs, feeling small as the door loomed up above him. But then he remembered he had taken his eyes off of the looming dark now to his back.  He snapped his head around and ran the last half dozen steps to the hanging light bulb a few paces into the dark.  Leaping as high as he could with the heavy yellow truck, he made a grab for the silver chain that hung like a life line from the ceiling.

The chain clicked and cast an eerie pall that fell from the ceiling like an unsatisfactory cone of dim light.  Beyond the cone, the basement retreated into darkness. Darren squinted into the grey and black world clinging to his tiny refuge of light.  He knew that his pile of toys lay a dozen feet deeper into the gloom, past where he could hope to see.  He took a step towards the darkness.

Then he felt the breeze cross over him again.  This time it tickled the back of his head first and then ran over his ears and face and into the black unknown.  Darren rubbed his arms for warmth and took a step backwards into the light.

An idea struck him.

He bent onto his knees in the middle of conical sanctuary.  The stone floor felt grimy on his hands and a small black smudge left its mark on his palm.  Darren didn't care.  He focused on setting the wheels of his truck straight.  He eyed up the area where he knew his mountain of toys lay hidden from sight.  He brought the truck backwards and rocked it forward.  He had to get the angle right.  He pushed the truck forward, the cool metal gliding across his palm as the yellow truck squeaked slowly into the dark on black plastic wheels.  The truck rattled as it rolled along the uneven floor until it disappeared from view.

The wheels continued their cry.


Darren felt the hair on his neck stand up and he looked harder into the dark.


The draft washed over him smelling of basement musk and mildew and dirt.

Then he heard it.  Faint at first, so faint he thought it may have been the squeaking wheels.  But then he heard it again and his eyes went wide.  His heart finally dropped out of his throat but it didn't resettle until it hit the pit of his stomach.  On reflex, Darren stood straight up.

He he he...

It laughed again.  He had never heard a laugh without joy before.  Whatever lurked in the dark struck Darren's childlike sensibilities as instantly wrong. He froze, fear locking his feet to the cement floor.  He thought to run.  His feet disobeyed.


He heard the wheels of the truck again.  Could he have imagined the laugh?  


The sound seemed to be coming closer


The yellow truck emerged from the embrace of the shadows and came to a slow stop at Darren's feet.  He knew he had to get out of there.

Superheros are scared of nothing!

The laugh seemed to come from the side this time.  Darren spun around and made a break for the stairs.

He he he

He reached the stairs and leaped up two at a time.  A breeze wafted over him again, but he ignored it as he made his way for the door and the light up above.  He was at the top stair when the door slammed shut.

He turned around and looked down the stairway.  He could see the mud from the floor on his knees and curling out from the underside of his socks.  His heart seemed to stop beating and contented itself with rattling the inside of his fingers. Darren reached behind him and felt the doorknob. It didn't turn.

Then the light at the bottom of the stairs went dark as if someone or something had snuffed out a candle.

"Mom?"  Darren tried to bang his tiny fist against the door behind him but his arms had gone week. He let out a trembling breath.  A white cloud puffed out of his mouth as the cool air seemed to instantly drop to frigid.  The last light flickered above him.

"Mom!" Darren yelled.  His strength returned, he turned and pounded on the basement door.  "Mom!"

The last light went out bathing Darren in frozen darkness.

"Mom!" his voice shook.  He felt tears rim his eyes and they stung from the freeze that bit at him through his thin cotton pajamas.

He felt something grip his ankle.  A frozen grip that lashed through his pajama pants and tore into his ankle.  He cried out and gripped the doorknob in both hands.  Then his feet were airborne as it tried to pull him down the stairs.  Darren clutched the knob with all of his strength and his body went taut. Fire burned in his arms and his midsection felt like he might be pulled in two.

Superheros are strong.

"Mom!" he cried in one last desperate plea.  Then it yanked him harder than before and Darren's grip broke.  His face hit the top stair before he could bring his arms around to brace.  He felt the warmth of his blood trickle along his brow and then he was descending the stairs.  Each step bounced into his forearms at jagged angles and cruel ledges bit into him all the way down leaving a trail of fresh blood, invisible in the darkness.

Darren tried to scream as he was dragged across the dirty basement floor and past his idle yellow truck, but  he had no strength left.

He he he

The voice seemed pleased.  One last thought fluttered through Darren's fast fading consciousnesses as he succumbed into weeping oblivion.

 "I'm not a superhero."

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

The Lies We Tell Our Children

Quick note: October will be ghost story blogging time. Get ready for it and feel free to email me or 'comment' suggestions. I shall shamelessly pander to reader requests.

Quick note 2: Buffalo Soldiers is at 50,000 words. Yep.

The blog....

A friend of mine recently launched into an explanation about how she can't sleep because her daughter wakes up three times a night, comes into her room, and in a sleep-zombie-like coma, grabs her face and lays her head on the bed while still standing. She is convinced it isn't a sleep walk as I suggested being armed with very little facts. So she told her daughter that if she sleeps in her bed the whole night through, then the Sleep Fairy will visit and leave a treat.

Well, mother knows best and it apparently worked. Now her daughter sleeps the night through and checks each morning for a new piece of candy. Day five of this brought a repeat of day numero uno's treat. According to the parent, this resulted in the candy being placed on the counter with a huff of disappointment. "I don't know what do," she said. "This might not hold up and I will have to find another lie to keep her in bed the whole night through."

This got me thinking...

We lie to children all the time. It isn't merely a trick, or something done only to keep up mystical appearances. I think it is a cultural habit. Don't get me wrong, I fully intend on lying to my future child as well, but it really is accepted practice. At what age is it wrong to lie? Is it only wrong to lie when all parties involved in the conversation are mentally sound enough to see through the lie? Under that logic is it okay to lie if the other party never suspects? Is it okay to tell a story...

Top Lies I Uncovered As A Child

1) Duh. Santa didn't exist. I found this out at my mother's house because I hid in her closet during a game of hide and seek and found a toy gun. Said gun was then either re-gifted by the jolly fat man or it was a lie! His name was certainly on it.

His slave workforce needs to be fed too doesn't it?

2) Easter Bunny. I walked out of my room in a sleep-zombie-like coma and saw my older brother and mother stuffing baskets with candy. I inquired. I was told the Easter Bunny was sick. That didn't hold water even at my fragile age. (No it was not last year...not that I would admit to you anyway)

Ha!  I know how you feel kid.  I felt the same way when I found out...

3) Tooth Fairy. I felt your hand go under my pillow Dad. You might want to invest in ninja stealth courses...or dispense with the charade and just give me cold hard cash. I say cold and hard because you only gave me a quarter. Cheap-o.

I got the same letter!  Only those were REAL teeth Dad!

What lies did YOU uncover as a child? I would love to hear some of below so we can make fun of you for being a sucker! :)

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

For Nothing Movie Adaptation Update / Preview

I thought some of you might be interested in the latest news about For Nothing. As some of you know, the story is being reworked into a screenplay by the talented Welshman, Thomas Humphreys.

Thomas, who has fought through breaking his wrist, has been working diligently to try and get this disaster into top screenplay form. It means a ton that he believes in the work enough to undertake the monumental task of parsing a 300 page story into about a 100 page screenplay. But to break your wrist and still find ways to work on the project, that is dedication my friends.

For example, I was once hungover and so did not write a word.

At any rate, Thomas and I had a bet as to who would finish first: me on the sequel Buffalo Soldiers or him on adapting For Nothing into a screenplay. Since he broke his wrist he is at a serious disadvantage at the moment. As I round the 60-65% complete mark, who knows where Thomas is on this adaptation...

But alas! Thomas does, and has sent us a preview of the screenplay!

Thanks Mr. Humphreys. That actually got my adrenaline going. How exciting! Though I feel safely ahead...for the moment.

Follow Tom on twitter @Mr_Frodo_esq

Friday, September 16, 2011

All About Context My Dear

Context is an amazing device. It lends back story to individual sentences and has the unique ability to keep us from sounding equal parts ignorant, ridiculous, or just plain confusing. For instance, I recently wrote about my Google history being somewhat scary sounding. In fact it was ripe for an FBI search of my home.


- Detonator
- Fertilizer
- FBI protocol
- Properties of acid
- Violent chemical compounds

This combination is enough to make me seem quite mad. Fortunately, if big brother really is watching, they know I am writing a novel. "I AM WRITING A NOVEL," I call out to my smoke detectors on my ceiling. Yeah sure...smoke detectors.

So the context matters in this case to make sure I don't get arrested.

Why am I thinking of all of this? The reason is because I was contemplating a few of the various actions this past week and I am pretty sure that if I just list them out there would be a whole new layer of eccentricity. So without providing context here are a few highlights:

1. Did the "reeling in a fish" dance; partner included.

We did a way better job than these jokers though.

2. Ate pizza at three am. This proceeded tears from somebody (not me) and preceded the same person's attempts at stealing construction cones. Relax he (or she?) didn't steal them.

3. Sang the song "Fuck You" in a crowded place (not me I am amazing). Then played the tambourine because the singing was so off....

No image, video, or audio. Thank God.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Back To Books Blog Hop WINNERS

First, thanks to everyone who stopped by my blog and entered this contest. It has been so fun to see your comments pouring in, even if it was "Just Business". It is great to see so many avid readers out there and even better when a few of you guys are willing to take a chance on a debut novel.

...even if it IS free...

Since I hate speeches, let us jump into the winners of this wonderful contest!

As promised, I am giving away three ebooks!

The winners of an ebook copy of For Nothing, America's #1 Crime Thriller (by Nicholas Denmon) are...

Darlene of Darlene's Book Nook

Tina of Tinaburiedunderbooks


Carmee ... just Carmee...

Now Darlene and Tina you provided an email address and I will email you to see the best way to get these ebooks to you. Carmee - you did NOT leave an email address so I will need you to email me at nicholasdenmon08 at gmail dot com. You have 24 hours to get back to me or I will select a new winner! :) SO HURRY!!!

And now... The Moment you have ALL been waiting Forrrrrr......

The Winner of the Grand Prize!!! The Winner of a SIGNED copy of For Nothing, one of America's best fiction novels (by Nicholas Denmon)is...

BJ of @beejee77 via Twitter!! Congrats! I will email you promptly to discern the best way to have your copy delivered!

For everyone else who entered, remember I hold these contest about once a month so don't lose heart! Your free copy might be just around the corner... of course, you could just buy the book and support my pizza habit.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Back To The Books Giveaway Hop

It's that time again where I like to give out free stuff!  Well of course it is in exchange for you doing a few simple tasks...

<insert evil laugh> sounds something like Muah Muah Muah (not to be confused with kissing noises)

What am I giving away??

I'm giving away three e-books of For Nothing! Yay!

Three winners will win e-book copies (format of your choice) of America's #1 Crime Thriller For Nothing by Nicholas Denmon...(What?  It was number one on Smashwords for a moment :) )


There is also A GRAND prize. A Grand Prize Winner! One paperback signed by me.  It might take a way the value of it but I like to write in books.  I promise I won't sign it in crayon.

Alright, go! Follow this blog! Leave a special comment below with the words "It's just business".

+1 entry - "Like" my Facebook Page.
+1 entry - Follow me on Twitter. - @nicholasdenmon
+1 entry - Friend me on Goodreads.

Giveaway ends September 7th. Remember, you follow the instructions, you sign up for your chance to win!  Simple, easy, fun...DO IT! IT'S FREE!!!

Now jump to these other great authors giving away free stuff too!! Go on! Get going!

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Writing, Drinking and Saved By The Bell?

Apparently I have the ability to fall off of the face of the earth at times.   As a writer, I lock myself in my office and go through a methodical process of shutting everyone in my life out so I can spend time with my imaginary friends.   When the clamoring gets too loud, I make time for my family and friends and quietly admonish myself to find more time to walk amongst the living.

I am always happy when I do.

This weekend, to the detriment of my novel's progress I went with family and friends on a day time Saturday barhop along St. Pete Beach.  I got some sun, forgot about dieting, ate some chicken wings, had a few brews, and told quite a few jokes.  All in all it was a good time.  I'd do it again. Just not tomorrow.

Tonight, tomorrow, and the rest of this week will be me playing catch up.  My WIP (work in progress) stands at just past 30,000 words.  I MUST MUST MUST get to 40,000 by this weekend.  

I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

Speaking of Thomas the Tank Engine, I wonder if my niece even knows about the wonders of that story.... I am unsure where and how deep generational gaps go.   I work with a few younger twenty somethings and they barely know about Saved By The Bell and my A.C. Slater and Zack Morris references fall on deaf ears more times than not.

Maybe if I had some of what she has, I could finish this manuscript faster.... 

Haha. Just kidding children.  This is how I really feel about drugs...

Have a safe and drug free Tuesday!

Friday, August 19, 2011

A Tale of a Gollum, A Book, and an Interview

Let's get business out of the way first.  Thank you for everyone buying, promoting, reviewing and loving (of course) For Nothing.  The response, which I owe to all of you, has been amazing.  I am working on the sequel and am nearing the end of the first act of that book (roughly one third of the way done).  Sorry that it takes a bit away from my blogging, but I will make a better effort to update.

That being said, there was an awesome interview done with me and the awesome reviewer and writer Cambria Hebert.  We cover such fun facts as: Do I wear boxers or briefs? Would I rather be a werewolf or a vampire? Find out that and more in my interview with Cambria Hebert here.  

As you may have read, my brother Chris and I wake up at 5:30 am these days in order to go to the gym in order to get our pump on. These wonderful excursions to the gym have led me to compile a few things I have wondered while working out.

1) Hey guy, is the grunt that important? Not the little grunt, the one that makes all the ladies give you a wide berth in case you're really a roided rapist?

2) How do I take my boxers off to get in the shower with out ruining everybody's day?

3) How do I get them back on? (I have solved this issue by wearing my towel like a kilt and going up and under).

4) I can't believe the gym is so packed that early. I said to Chris, "People that come to the gym this early are really serious about their work out." He replied, "And then there is us." In between bites of my two power Twinkies I asked, "What do you mean?"

5) It is amazing how body's react differently to the same work out. Case and point, Chris works out the same as me...he even does a few more reps than I do. But look at the differences in how we are shaping up:

Me getting my svelte on...I grew those mountains myself.


He is looking more tan though

Ok guys and gals that's it for now.  Enjoy you weekend!!

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Now this is how you pump iron!

Well I put the challenge out there to my lovely fans (really just friends and family more likely than not) to help me reach 400 'LIKES" on Facebook.

The terms?

A signed copy of For Nothing mailed out by your favorite author (better be me) to a random fan who liked my page during that run to 400.

Who won?   I knew you would ask.  Stay tuned for the answer later tonight.

In writing news, I am trying to hit 25,000 words tonight on For Nothing's sequel.  Buffalo Soldiers is scheduled to go out October 15th and I need to really focus like a laser beam on that deadline.

In personal news, my brother and I are doing this diet workout thing that sucks.  My dinner tonight is a fruit smoothie and starting on Monday we will be waking up three days a week at 5:30 am to workout before our day jobs.

Crap.  Whose idea was this anyway??

I suppose it's okay though because we might eventually look like this guy and have the same feelings... towards the effects.


It's funny I suppose but when I work out I always take it to another level.  Apparently I can't do anything half way.  This is a home video of me teaching Chris how to properly train:


Monday, August 1, 2011

Movies Based on Comics Are Taking Me For Granted and Why Shouldn't They?

The weekend is usually a good time to relax and rinse away the rigor of the work week.  But every so often you have so much to do or have so much fun that you are actually more tired on Monday than you were on Friday.

That is pretty much how I feel today.

I had a going away dinner for my brother Rob who is becoming a Customs Border Patrol officer on Friday.  So the evening was full of good food and drinks as we toasted him a farewell before he leaves for months of training and then to wherever they decide to place him.  It was a good time and you can't help but be happy for someone who gets something they have been working towards for a good long while.  But part of you is also sad to see them go.

Four of us brothers lived here in the greater Tampa Bay area just three short months ago, but now only two of us remain.

Ah, the price of growing up and moving on.

So in good Denmon fashion, we hid our feelings behind a wall of booze and laughter and on Sunday I watched Captain America in honor of my brother Rob who is probably going to keep a few of the worlds bad apples away from American soil.  The movie was decent, enjoyable even.  But I think I might have been distracted through the entirety of the film by a PREVIEW.

Another damned Spider-Man movie? Really?? Even worse, it seems to be the retelling of the story from the beginning, from the spider bite, sans Toby Maguire.  How many times must I suffer Hollywood's lack of creativity?

Some guy named Garfield who is a new Spider-Man

Oh well.  I will probably see it and help perpetuate the notion that retreads are a good idea when it comes to lining pockets versus actually coming up with something new.  Captain America, despite this distraction, was a fun film and the Avengers movies are going to make a boatload of money.  They already have, but wait until they all join forces in one movie in 2012.

My brother Rob standing strong at the border.

Other than that, I got into some scotch and cigars in order celebrate my buddy Craig's engagement to long time sweetheart Stacey.  His parents always throw great parties and this was no exception.  If you happened to show up, I was the guy hanging out by the meatballs and the aforementioned scotch. 

He is getting married in March so I need to find the best place to rent a donkey for his bachelor party...

The donkey show from Jay and Silent Bob

On the writing front, I am about 17,500 words into the sequel to For Nothing.   Buffalo Soldiers is really coming along and I think everyone who read For Nothing will love where I am taking the Upstate New York Mafia Tales. Here's to hoping!

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Treasure Hunt Blog Hop Winners!

Well they say when you want to bury a body you should bring along a shovel and a few bags of lime.  The gangsters who follow this blog know what I'm talking about and I am pretty sure a few of this month's contest winners were in on the Jimmy Hoffa disappearance. 

Essential Gangster Supplies

Quite a few people entered the contest and went on the search for Jimmy Hoffa's body, and by the activity on this blog, my Fanpage, and on Goodreads - a fair amount of holes were dug in the wilderness hoping to solve the mystery of his resting place.  But in good mafia fashion those of you who know where he is, kept your mouths shut.  A book apparently wasn't enough to bribe you into ratting on your fellow Denmon Familia members (by the way that was a suggestion for the name of those who follow my blog and fanpage etc and I think I like it!  What do you think?)

But since I am the Don in this enterprise only a select few of you get a cut of this month's take.  Your participation, as always, was amazing but there are winners and there are losers and the winners for this month's blog hop are as follows:

Electronic Book copy of For Nothing

J. Barrett
Nikki aka Sherri McCarver
Helen Seely

I have already emailed you so please email me if you did not get your coupon code


Super Gangster....


Fan-tastic member of the Denmon Familia (will it stick?)...

SONIA REMO aka Momma Elk!!

Sonia please email at to collect your prize.  I will need your mailing address!

For the rest of you, there really are no losers, because it was fun wasn't it?  And there just might be another contest NEXT month!  So how bout that?

Of course you can always buy a copy of the book if you are impatient.  Check out my website HERE and click the book cover to buy it!

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Treasure Quest: Discovery Lies Between The Covers: Mega Blog Hop Tour

The lovely ladies involved in the Mega Blog Hop Tour invited me to once again take part in their wonderful Blog Hop.  The theme for this one is a Treasure Quest.  What could be more appropriate for a bunch of mafia lovers than the promise of treasure.

After all, the mafia hustles everyday in order to get their piece of the pie. Occasionally they haul off loads of treasure such as:

The Lufthansa heist was a robbery at John F. Kennedy International Airport on December 11, 1978. An estimated $5 million in cash and $875,000 in jewels were stolen, at the time making it the largest cash robbery ever committed on American soil.[1] This robbery was the subject of two television films, The 10 Million Dollar Getaway and The Big Heist, and is a key plot element in the 1990 film Goodfellas. (Wikipedia) 

Lufthansa -twice jacked for loads of cash


They make other's go on a treasure hunt for nothing, we call that a wild goose-chase such as:

James Riddle "Jimmy" Hoffa (born February 14, 1913 – disappeared July 30, 1975, declared legally dead July 30, 1982[1][2]) was an American labor unionleader and author.
Hoffa was involved with the International Brotherhood of Teamsters union, as an organizer from 1932 to 1975. He served as the union's General President from 1958 to 1971.  Hoffa, who had been convicted of jury tampering, attempted bribery, and fraud in 1964, was imprisoned in 1967, sentenced to 13 years, after exhausting the appeal process. It was not until mid-1971 that he officially resigned the Teamsters' presidency, an action that was part of a pardon agreement with U.S. president Richard Nixon, in order to facilitate his release later that year. Nixon blocked Hoffa from union activities until 1980; Hoffa was attempting to overturn this order and to regain support.
Hoffa was last seen in late July 1975, outside the Machus Red Fox, a suburban Detroit restaurant (Wikipedia).

Jimmy Hoffa, his body has never been found
So what does this mean for you?   I will be doing a fun combination of the two.  In order to claim your loot, you must find someone.  If you join my Fanpage on Facebook at AND join my blog as a follower, you will be entered into a raffle to win a free ebook.  Just sign up, and comment on the wall or in the comments section with, "I came here looking for Jimmy Hoffa!"
5 people will win a free ebook of For Nothing (currently the #1 selling thriller on Smashwords).


If you find a friend to join my blog as a follower OR to join my Facebook fan page they will be entered into the raffle too AND each person who says "I was sent here by (enter your name) to look for Jimmy Hoffa!" will give YOU another raffle ticket (thus increasing your chance to win) up to as many people as you can find to join your gang and to help search for Jimmy Hoffa's body!
Whoever gets the most people to join the search will win the GRAND PRIZE...a signed hardcopy of For Nothing.
SO what are you waiting for??  Get out there and find your gang to look for Jimmy Hoffa's body...just don't look under Giants Stadium, it has been tried unsuccessfully.  Besides it has since been torn down....


1)  HAVE FUN!!!


3)  THIS TOUR STARTS:  Monday, July 18, at Midnight (Arizona Time)
      THIS TOUR ENDS: Monday, July 25, at Midnight (Arizona Time)
      Winners will be drawn and posted June 21st! *** 




***Authors have full discretion to choose an alternate winner in the event any winner fails to claim their prize(s) within 72 hours of their name being posted or after notification of win, whichever comes first. Anyone who participates in this blog hop tour is subject to these rules***