Blog – Page 2 – Vintage City Publishing

September 21, 2019

VICIOUS CIRCLE – CHAPTER THREE

NOW:

Paul checked himself in the rearview mirror and found it hard to recognize the man staring back. The blond hair was longer than his FBI days and stylishly cut, but an occasional errant strand of hair threatened to stage a rebellion. Contact lenses had replaced his wire-rimmed glasses.

Gone were the days of bargain basement clothing and do-it-yourself tailoring. Now it was Italian silk suits, usually gray or light blue, Egyptian cotton shirts, and calfskin shoes as soft as cashmere. No tie, just the top two buttons of his shirt left open to show off the gold chain and dangling Italian horn, lest anyone question his lineage.

He had been living this façade for almost a year, gradually easing into the Tagliani family lifestyle. It was important he didn’t rush things, that he allow his employers to decide how quickly he rose in the organization. If Paul took one misstep, he knew it could be fatal. And his employers were cautious.

August 25, 2019August 26, 2019

VICIOUS CIRCLE – CHAPTER TWO

Walter Donlan, senior accountant for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, sat with two of the strangest FBI agents he had ever met. If they hadn’t shown him their badges and ID cards, he would have guessed they were solicitors for an international cosmetic company.

The agent in charge, Monty Halloran, was the head of a new task force on organized crime, although the paperwork he had showed Walter was vague in describing their directives. He was tall enough to have to stoop when he came through the door. Walter judged him to be about 6’6”.

Halloran’s head was shaved, and around his neck, he wore a silver chain with a monocle, which he brought to his eye when scrutinizing Walter’s framed certificates and pictures on the wall. Underneath his right eye was a deep red scar that made his eye bulge and his top lip sneer.

August 11, 2019August 25, 2019

New Fiction (and Commentary)

For those of you clamoring for new fiction from me (all five of you), here’s the first chapter of an unpublished novel. Every few weeks, I’ll post another chapter along with my author commentary. I hope you like it. And if you don’t…well… just keep scrolling.

VICIOUS CIRCLE

by Slade Grayson

Chapter One

A year ago:

In a Northern New Jersey strip mall, Charlie Grace sat at the brass-railed bar of Kelsey’s Food and Sprits and sipped his drink—a mixture of Kahlua and cream. It tasted like chocolate milk but had a decidedly stronger kick. The cream gave his stomach a thick coating to buffer the alcohol, which was good because Charlie had been having stomach problems, probably the start of an ulcer, although he refused to admit it. He resolved to lay off Mexican food for a while and maybe chew some Tums. He thought thirty-six was too young for a man to have to worry about his diet, but he didn’t relish the thought of going to a doctor either. What if it wasn’t an ulcer? Thoughts of stomach cancer nagged at him and kept him awake at night. Charlie also thought thirty-six was too young to have to worry about ulcers and cancer.

July 29, 2019

HOW TO GET REVIEWS OF YOUR BOOKS!

But not, like, a bazillion. Because let’s be honest, if I knew that, I’d be too busy filling a private pool with dollar bills and diving in. And if you happen to already be one of those lucky authors who has thousands of reviews on Amazon and Goodreads, A – this post is not for you and B – please tell me your secrets, including which dark lord you made a sacrifice to and what said sacrifice was. I’d love to know. For research purposes.

Continue reading “HOW TO GET REVIEWS OF YOUR BOOKS!”

June 10, 2019

Anatomy of an Ending

There is a popular sentiment that stories, like life, are about the journey, not the ending. I think good fiction has to differentiate itself from life, so stories are about the journey and the ending.

Maybe I’m hopelessly morbid, but I think about death all the time. I know I’m not the only one, but how I’m going to check out is constantly on my mind. It doesn’t frighten me or stop me from living, but like a good story, I do want to know how it all ends. Like reading a good story, though, I’m not eager to get there. It’s a paradox. I don’t want it to end.

You can stop psychoanalyzing me now.

April 16, 2019April 16, 2019

VINTAGE CITY AT AWESOMECON 2019!!

DO YOU LOVE THINGS THAT ARE AWESOME!?!?

Continue reading “VINTAGE CITY AT AWESOMECON 2019!!”

April 13, 2019April 13, 2019

Under New Management, The Walking Dead Shambles On

I haven’t written about The Walking Dead for a while. I haven’t felt like it’s been worth writing about for a while. But now that it’s under new management and a major cast member has exited the show, I was interested to see where the series stands after nine seasons, an eternity on network television.

(Coincidentally, this ended up being 3,600 words, an eternity on the Internet, so if you don’t feel like reading that and want to leave right now, I really can’t blame you. I wrote it, though, so I’m posting it, dammit!)

April 12, 2019April 12, 2019

Nick DeWolf’s Review of “A Dirty Job” by Christopher Moore… or… “Word Salad” by A Usually Solid Writer

Moore is regularly a bright, funny, poignant writer who fine tunes his books the way a great chef would a recipe, removing all excess ingredients and giving us just enough of each of the primary flavors that our senses are delighted and intrigued. This time, it he took whatever was in his fridge that wasn’t quite rotten but not still fresh, poured it into a casserole dish, set the oven to 450, and prayed. Then when it didn’t come out right, he slathered it in cheese, added some 150 proof rum, and lit the top on fire. And as such, I will politely decline the offer of seconds, thank you.

Continue reading “Nick DeWolf’s Review of “A Dirty Job” by Christopher Moore… or… “Word Salad” by A Usually Solid Writer”

April 3, 2019April 13, 2019

Tattoos And The People That Love Them (a.k.a. This has nothing to do with writing.)

I always liked tattoos.

My brother’s friend had two full sleeves, and a few on his chest and back. The running joke was, he couldn’t walk past a tattoo shop without stopping inside to get one.

An exaggeration, of course, but he did have a lot of tattoos. So many, they blended together on his arms into a swirl of Jackson Pollack-type images and colors.

I thought that was too many. I like tattoos where you can tell what the individual image is. It stands apart from the others, like a panel in a comic book. My brother’s friend had so many on his arms, they were a blur.