A bit of SHOWing and not TELLing with Simon Okill
Now please don’t get me wrong. Whenever I experience the light I am endowed with a kaleidoscope of images that coalesce into my next book. For many years now the lights have taken me to another place. They always come at precisely 3 am – the dead hour when my body is at its lowest ebb and therefore cannot resist the taking. And with 4 books and 22 scripts to my credit, well you can guess how many times they’ve indulged in the taking.
My internet persona and eccentric title is Phantom Bigfoot, birthed amongst the scrambled ether of digi-information circling our planet at the speed of light. I was plucked from the waves of confusion when I first thought of Bigfoot and what makes Bigfoot so elusive. That’s another story, but first, what happened at 3 am last night.
The aliens from the planet Abba, I kid you not, there actually is a planet Abba and FYI they invented that disco-ball craze just so Abba could win the Eurovision Song Contest – I digress somewhat off course – suffice to say Phantom Bigfoot was successfully absorbed into the ethernet one microsecond later. At that exact moment I was formulating scenes of my vampire sequel Luna Aeturnus or Eternal Moon.
Phantom Bigfoot woke up groggy and confused, a normal state for me, but they didn’t know that – these aliens are pretty dumb – they get their timelines confused all the time. Anyway I slipped off the massage table in what I could only describe as a Swedish sauna. The heat was so intense I felt dizzy as if standing on a rowboat in a stormy sea.
“Where the hell am I?” I called out.
That was when I noticed something rather odd – on a table were two wine glasses and a bottle of Chateau Dupont 1919. My heart skipped several beats. But that’s right out of my vampire Luna Series. Have those damned aliens sucked my brains again or are they telling me they put that idea there in the first place? Did I need an answer?
“What the bloody hell’s going on?” I called out.
I looked all around the room which began to hum with static. A clinking of glass whirled me back to the table. I was shocked to see my vampire muse, Eternal, seated at the table. Her luxurious deep burgundy hair cascaded about her pale shoulders. She fit perfectly into a tight, sexy black backless dress. With a nod and a knowing look from her pitch-black eyes, I felt irresistibly lured to sit next to her. She handed me a glass and poured red wine. The wine seemed thick and treacly as it stuck to the sides of the glass.
“Come Phantom Bigfoot, partake of my muse.” She spoke without moving her lips.
No way! But as hard as I tried not to, my hand gripped the Gothic wineglass depicting horned Satyrs and before I knew it I was drinking ice-cold blood. Okay I’ve licked blood from a finger cut and it tasted salty and coppery, but this stuff went down a real treat. It tasted like a Chateauneuf du Pape. I slammed the empty glass on the table which I now noticed had an IKEA label hanging from it.
“More … give me more!” I demanded. What the heck, in for a penny …
My muse smiled serenely and in a flash of movement she stood next to me, stroking my head. I had a sudden urge to write.
“Let me tell you about Luna Aeturnus,” I offered.
“Don’t tell me – show me!” She snarled and clipped me across the head.
Um, how the hell do I do that?
A humming sound caused me to look over my shoulder. No way, dude! The walls rippled and shivered like a road under the hot sun. My teeth vibrated and my hair went stiff with static. Before my stunned eyes I was now driving an old relic across the cobbled square of the village Douvrey in the Burgundy Region of France. My stomach churned with fear as I, Edouard Clavet, stepped from the old Renault 6CV. I scanned the square for my sworn enemy – The Count. I knew I was searching for a demon hidden within a man’s skin because this was a world of my construct. So I’d better get into Edouard’s character.
Father Papineau dashed across the square towards me, desperation etched on his face. He looked exactly as I had imagined, slightly overweight, a kind face, now grimacing, topped with grey hair. He gripped my arm and without further ado led me to the pharmacy under protest.
“I have no time for this, Father.”
I was introduced to Doctor Colbert, a lover of movies, actresses and Sherlock Holmes. He used Holmes’ techniques to help Inspector Gerard with his murder cases. My muse slapped my head.
“Show – don’t tell!”
“Okay I get it!”
I examined a teenage girl with bite marks on her neck. Her pulse was weak from loss of blood.
“This is the work of vampires.”
“That is our conclusion, Doctor Clavet.” Father Papineau said with a nod to Doctor Colbert.
My need to confront the demon leader of the vampires dragged me from the pharmacy to find The Count awaiting me outside the café. My evil foe was also known as Lucien Dupont, once a simple vineyard man. But the demon had taken root and erased all vestige of the man Lucien once was. With considerable trepidation I approached the terrifying beast covered in white makeup and dressed like an undertaker. My hand slipped into my jacket pocket and gripped the cutthroat razor that I knew would be there. Sweat erupted across my brow as the game of death unfolded. My fear was all too real. I wanted to throw up.
We weighed each other across the distance of a table. My hand slid into the pocket and gripped the razor. My fear grew with every beat of my racing heart. I noticed a faint smile crack The Count’s face. He made a sudden move. I stumbled back as his hand withdrew a Samurai sword.
In a flash The Count attacked with such ferocity I was stunned. I fell and scurried under a table only to see it slice in two. I tackled The Count. We struggled. His strength was far greater than I had ever imagined. As his fangs drew closer to my exposed neck I slashed his throat with the razor.
The Count fell backwards across a table. He frowned, surprised. The look on his face spoke clearly – how could this weakling defeat me? He collapsed to the ground clutching his neck.
My Eternal muse stood beside me looking down at The Count. She bit her arm and allowed me to sample her essence. Her syrupy blood wine revitalised my strength.
“Your task has only just begun.” Again, she spoke directly into my mind.
The village hummed and rippled around me. The vision faded away to be replaced by a great expanse of moorland. I was weighted down by heavy armour and chainmail, so cold it burned my skin. My breath billowed steam in the chill air. I hefted my sword alongside eleven of my brethren.
“We are the Knights of the Round Table, true and bold with righteous purpose.”
I did my best to keep up with them. “Knights of the Round Table … and bold … righteous purpose.” I said, one step behind.
Eleven swords were raised. I joined last of all as the tips kissed. The battle to retrieve Arthur’s Grail commenced. One by one the brave knights fell until I, Lancelot, was alone facing The Black Knight known as Mordred, the vile necromancer and minion of the Devil. At his side was my true love, Eternal the muse. She trembled with fear. His sword at her throat reminded me of his devious power.
I circled Mordred. He grinned black fangs. His eyes burned with hellfire.
“You dance with the Devil – you sleep with the Devil.” As he spoke, black smoke puffed from his face shield.
Our swords clashed in a shower of sparks. No matter how many times I thrust and parried, Mordred was always one step ahead of my moves. His demon was too strong, too devious.
“You are no match, Lancelot. The Grail is mine as it should be.”
He tricked me with a rock smashing my helmet against my skull. The ringing blow rocked me back off my feet. My eyes teared up. A strange sensation of ice-cold tingling spread through me. I looked down to see Mordred’s black sword buried to the hilt in my chest. I felt no pain, just the sadness of defeat. I had enough time to watch my true love run away into the swirling fog. All was not lost if Eternal escaped.
The moorland rippled into a vast room of stone. A fireplace big enough to conceal a house crackled with dancing flames. I was disorientated. I looked all around in wonder and amazement as a blonde woman entered the room through a heavy oak door. I stood transfixed by Lucrezia Borgia’s beauty. She swished towards me with a smile that all of Italy now feared. In her hand was a gold goblet, perhaps poison meant for me. But dripping from her mouth was Eternal’s blood. I could smell its familiar allure. A gasp turned my head. Eternal, my true love lay across a massive four-poster bed.
“Eternal Blood is only meant for me, Lucrezia.” I slapped the goblet from her hand.
“No Edouard, she is too strong,” Eternal screamed out.
Lucrezia howled like a wolf and rushed to Eternal.
“More – I must have more.” Lucrezia drew a knife and slit Eternal’s arm.
I grabbed Lucrezia and threw her to the flagstone floor. The door creaked open to reveal The Count – Cesare Borgia. Dressed in black and brandishing a sword he charged at me. I dodged several lunges. The sword skimmed my hair and thudded into a bed post.
“Why do we always play this pointless game, Edouard? You are weak and I am strong. That is the way of things – as it should be.” Cesare’s eyes glowed red with rage. “I always get what I want.” He kissed Lucrezia passionately. “I shall be Eternal!” With a powerful tug, her plucked the blade from the bedpost.
I backed away, falling across the bed. Eternal, my muse gave me that look of defeat I now dreaded. My body tingled all over as Cesare pierced my heart. I slowly fell to the floor.
I landed on a bed of rose petals. At my side was my Eternal muse, so beautiful, so alluring. She bit her arm with long incisors and offered her Eternal blood for the bonding. I was dragged off the bed by a pair of wicked strong arms. I looked into Marc Anthony’s red eyes brimming with hatred. At Anthony’s side stood Cleopatra, grinning with triumph.
“When will you ever learn, fool?” Anthony drew his short sword. His eyes gleamed with pleasure.
I staggered back and dodged the thrust at my chest.
“Okay guys, I’ve had quite enough of all this killing.” The bedroom shimmered and rippled. I now stood in a large cubicle with pulsating lights travelling up thick cables snaking the walls. A door opened. A female technician entered with a bottle of Champagne and two glasses. This vision of beauty haunted me even now, my muse, Eternal.
“You’ve done it, Simon – you’ve written the first holo-novel.”
“I had a dream 2023 was going to be my year.” We clinked glasses and drank. “Here’s to the future of novels.”
Thanks Phantom Bigfoot… oh my! Holo novels!
Simon lives with his wife, Shirlee Anne and their cat, in a pretty coastal town in South Wales, UK. They both love Stephen King and had read many of his books and enjoyed their transition to the screen. Due to their love of books they dabbled in writing for some years as a hobby. They were approached by a film company to write a paranormal TV series. They struggled most nights and all through weekends to come up with 22 episodes only for the company to go bust. After an accident at work Mr. Okill was forced to retire due to a disability Battling with depression, his newfound skills of writing became his sword and their scripts templates for novels. His writing became more serious as certain A-list actors expressed interest in his scripts and his debut novel Nobody Loves a Bigfoot Like a Bigfoot Babe was accepted by Christopher Matthews Publishing after so many British publishers turned it down.
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A young woman is nearing her Eternal Vampire state as her birthday approaches. She is held captive by the hybrid vampire she created and slowly drained of her pure blood to keep his addiction in check. She outwits him and escapes to a chateau in the hope of reaching maturity. But he follows her unmistakable scent and massacres all that dare protect his supply of Eternal blood.
She awakens in a tiny room trapped and defenceless with amnesia, but something deep in her subconscious yearns to be set free by the next full moon – the date of her Eternal Birthday.
Her true self, Eternal, emerges in brief flashes of awareness to protect her from the horrors of this terrifying prison. Desperate, she forges an alliance with her true love, a gorgeous young doctor treating her.
But her nemesis is out there somewhere, relishing the hunt for her blood – and nothing will stop him from becoming Eternal.
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Published June 15th, 2013
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Where Phantom Bigfoot came from
Nobody Loves a Bigfoot Like a Bigfoot Babe (Book 1)
The Northern California town of Big Beaver has become a haven for Bigfoot, alien sightings and is home to The Phantom Bigfoot Bather. One particularly weird Beaverite, Duane, has kept the Bigfoot a secret, but to his utter dismay, a female Bigfoot abducts a teenager. Duane must use all his guile to stop his secret from getting out, especially now that MB, his close friend and crypto-zoologist, is on the trail, along with Sheriff Lou and the FBI. Can Duane keep his Bigfoot friends a secret? And what does MB discover deep in the forest?
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