Category: zombie apocalypse

“Jimmy, close the door. No more stops.” Jimmy shut the door and Tara straightened
out in her seat. “We go to Alex’s. We wait there ’til she shows up or ’til
morning – whichever comes first. Then we all find a way out of this fucking city.”

God himself couldn’t have been
more absolute in his decree. It was becoming more and more apparent that Los
Angeles, California was the last place on Earth anyone should be right now. A
simple drive across town to a friend’s house was turning out to be a moonstruck
detour through insanity and dementia. The longer they spent drifting through
the blood-mists of this New Hell, the more they could see what was really out

Spirits of dead victims trapped in
stores, offices and cars, unable to escape the horrors of their repeating
fates, beating on panes of glass like padded walls in an asylum – it was death
that haunted them, not the other way
around. The alleys were so black it felt like their souls were in danger of being
consumed by the void as they passed – and they were. A deep groaning hummed above from slithering leviathans
infecting the sky, blocking out Heaven’s view of the foul disease of evil
spreading below. There were eyes in every reflection, every shadow, every crack
they passed, watching them drive deeper into the city. Every stoplight was
blinking red. Every streetlight would flicker as they drove under, threatening
to leave them blanketed in dark. Every wall perspired with crimson droplets leaving
a metallic stink waiting to taint their lungs. And their every breath was a
reminder of the surrounding death they had to maneuver through to find their

Excerpt from Chapter twenty of Blood Magik: A Cold Day in Hell by Corwyn Matthew

art: Lo! the Red Sky is coming! by iacocca on \m/ -z

I think I finished off Chapter 49 in the BM saga tonight. Book One ends at Chapter 22.5 (The Bathroom Blues), Book Two picks up at Chapter 23 (which is not yet available), and Book Three, which I’m calling (for now) Blood Magik: A Living Hell in L.A., starts at 38.5. I decided on the running numbers because the story never really stops. It’s not like a series. It really is all one story and, maybe long after its all said and done, will be printed up as some titanic, 2,500 page omnibus that might be better sold as a stepping stool for us short folk to reach the top shelf than as a novel. (In that it’d be thick as fuck, not that that’s all it would be good for. Although, metaphorically speaking…kind of a cool concept considering it’s what might give me that “step up” in my career by the end of it.) Anyway, I’m not sure if anyone has ever done the running numbers before. Let me know if you know of a saga or series of books that has. And, as always…



Much love, my dudes. -cm


…quick words slipped into Blood Magik: Living Hell in LA (Book Three) this morning, getting back to the start of a mid-novel showdown twenty (of my character’s) years in the making. This one has a lot of potential for fantastical, apocalypse-world imagery since it’s taking place in the center of a bit of “terraforming” being orchestrated by the elemental, Raze: one of my demon queen’s twelve elite demons. These extraordinarily powerful entities don’t play too much into the plot, but have a final purpose in the overall story that won’t be revealed until the end of the Blood Magik saga. Until then they’re more like obstacles to have to work around while navigating through the New Hell. And this one is gonna help set the stage for a pretty savage beat-down. Fun times. =D Get in on the growing saga by getting your exclusive, collectible copy of the start of it all on my web page –> <– while they’re still discounted. Gonna be doing my first con next weekend in Yuma so it would be safer to get yours now since this edition is extremely limited. Also, follow my personal journey to becoming a better writer. The stuff I put together now is embarrassingly better than what I put together in the first book. Not the story, but the writing. I actually spent over a year updating Book One just so it could come close to what I’m actually capable of now, but compared to Book Three it’s hardly even noticeably the same writer (aside from my cheesy sense of humor). This too can make make Book One even more of a collectible, so don’t wait much longer. The first run will likely be gone soon. \m/

Pretty sure I slaughtered this fucker. 😬 I think I might bring this gun and some targets to #Yumacon and set it up so peeps can shoot #zombies and earn a % off of a purchase. 🤘 Stop by my Blood Magik booth if you’re gonna be there and take your shot at getting the #book or other #collectibles discounted. 🧟‍♂️🧟‍♀️

I paid for a t-shirt design on so I’d have a shirt to rock at cons and the dude sent me back some utter crap. I went ahead and did this one myself (added the border, posterized the image to give it that water color  look in the background, added the red stress marks around the edges and some more blood speckles throughout). Whadda ya think? o.0

I got my first ever booth at a con in Yuma on Oct 6th, bitches! \m/ \m/ It’s a little one (convention), which is good, because I have no idea how well I’ll do. I got migraine issues and dizziness that comes with it (which sparks anxiety…) so I’m not very sociable for any longer than an hour. But I got fam in Yuma who are gonna help me out and take over the booth if I have to escape for a few hours, so we’ll see. Any ‘Zoners amongst you? (That’s peeps from AZ, for the laymen.) Let me know if you’re gonna be there. If you’re a follower and are there I’ll give you a free copy of the book. I’ll also be pushing a select few boxes of comics (since it’s a comic con) and maybe some action figures. I’ll be saving most of the horror stuff for horror cons, tho (assuming I’ll survive this one and want to do more). And, as always, slip on over to to get your copy if you can’t make the con. Look for the exclusive Pure Art edition that’s limited to 500 copies. Support indie horror scribes and fellow tumblr horndogs!

GET BIT!!! -z

The Rotten Man by GaryLaibArt

Ok, so, in Book Three of my Blood Magik saga (I call it a saga instead of a series because it’s all one story, but who knows… It’s its own universe, after all, so may turn out to be a series yet) I pay homage to some of my favorite writers (who are almost all from the UK) by creating a Cockney zombie character I call the Gent. He’s this eerie sort of heckler out of place and time who shows up to test the Coach’s mettle when he’s nearly lost it. A gangly ol’ “sod”, the Gent just may be what tears a tight-knit gaggle of apocalyptic do-gooders apart. Here’s a little taste:

wasn’t long before their resolve was tested.

particularly awkward gangrel with a top hat and a chewed-at human finger-bone
between his teeth moseyed toward them, eyeing their raised weapons with retinas
ablaze and gore-stained hands held high. The Coach usually wouldn’t have
bothered entertaining the notion of any other option other than war, but the
peculiar dress-wear and stroll of the dead-man put his priorities on a tilt,
slightly sloping toward curiosity. His reason, of course, eventually tipped the
scales and his trigger-finger tensed, but before the hammer went clink, the stranger spoke.

Oi oi… A wee bit lairy, are we? I’m not
here to mess you about, guv. Only curious.”

wasn’t the painfully thick accent that gave the Coach pause… It was the
creature’s denotive curiosity. It seemed…unique
in its ways. That and his style resembling an early nineteenth century
Englishman was slightly bewitching.

off, dick-snot. We’re not here to shoot
the shit
with homeless dead-heads,
alright?” Regardless of his own curiosity, he still didn’t feel the urge to be

“Heh. Always did fancy the mouth on you septics.
Randy as a rat-arsed dollymop, the lot’a ya!”

more step and I turn yer brains back to dirt, shit-bag.” He couldn’t discern
much detail through the mists other than the twin-tailed black tux and red
eyes. His pant legs hung inches above his ankles; long arms extending well past
his jacket’s sleeves. The Coach couldn’t decide if the dead-thing was actually from the eighteen-hundreds or
just peculiarly fashioned: some sort of uber, new-age hipster who thought dressing
like Abe Lincoln was the bee’s-fucking-knees. “Keep those filthy paws where I
can seem ’em, son. Only reason you ain’t a stain already is ’cause yer no
threat to me. I’d rather not raise a stink right now if I don’t have to, but
I’d rather raise one than allow you
any sorta notion you got a shot at The Champ.”

you then, mate? Fancy yorself king of
the bleedin’ pilloks?” He waved his arms around to aggrandize, then lowered
them with several tsks escaping his
dead tongue. “How, then, fairs His Majesty with naught but a single subject to

fuck you talkin’ about?”

flock, guv. Flown away off ta the bog,
’ave they? Abandoned their mates for a unified ‘wringing of the socks’?”

shifted against the tree they perched under at the mention of their backup.
What the hell was this lunatic getting at?

’ave you a scheme a bit more potty to
dazzle me wif? Say…a trap, perchance?”

carousing winds parted the mists enough for the Coach to catch a glimpse of his
inquisitor. His thin face did justice to his slight frame, with ears like
satellites angled to refract covert, international intel. Blood as thick as
paste painted a Joker-like smile that enhanced his already deranged aura from
nutcase to super villain. And he stood crooked – always – shoulders angled so
his left arm seemed inches longer than his right. That long arm lifted to pry
the finger-bone from his teeth just before the mist again coalesced until he
was just a shade in a garnet soup.


One thing I’ve realized is how much more potent an accent is in writing when it’s written like it sounds, but this can also be a bitch to read for those who aren’t used to reading it. So how’d it go for you? Tough to get through? Thanks for the feedback, zompeeps. \m/ -z/cm

…plugged into Blood Magik (Book Three) tonight. Poor, poor Alex (my story’s heroine). I bet if she ever got the chance to meet her creator she’d kick me dead in the nuts for the paragraph I just wrote. lol I suppose I’d deserve it. But is it my fault I’m a fan of shit so gross it makes you cringe? It’s all fun and games for me; out here in the “real world” chuckling at the thought of what I’ll never have to endure. But this chick… smh… Just wait, sweetheart. You’re getting off easy right now. This next bit’s gonna be a mindfuck you weren’t prepared for. 

Get a copy of Book One from my web page here –> 

The top 5 things you will NOT FIND in my zombie novel:

1. CORPORATISM: There are no businesses, cooperate superpowers, cooperate lackeys, yes-sir/no-sir, right-away-sir fascism, capitalist greed or anything remotely related to politics or the super rich.

2. DRAMA: Now, this one is more specific, but was a goal of mine to avoid. What I mean by drama is shit like typical “relationship” drama; as in family tension, best friends fighting over a girl, couples fighting over attention, social ranks arguing over who’s right and wrong. These type of things are all generic, everyday, mundane, fucking imbecilic bullshit that writers throw into stories to either act as fillers to kill time, or to “connect” on an emotional level with their readers/viewers. Connecting emotionally is not a bad thing…but when they use the same goddamn bullshit over, and over, and over again it’s just a severe lack of imagination and a waist of time. I was sure not to expend any energy on these types of generic fillers and stick with what actually mattered.

3. ROMEROS: (I’ve heard that term used before to describe typical, brain-dead, shuffling zombies and thought it nailed my point). Not to knock a classic, but the Romero zombie is the most widely used version of the living dead, so I decided to switch it up in all possible aspects. My mythos is entirely my own. My zombies talk. They run. They laugh. They plot, scheme, terrorize, have powers gifted to them through blood magic, do not die when shot in the head, do not turn you with a bite. This is not a disease. This is magic. Fantasy. A twist that has, of course, been done, but seldom to the extent I’m taking it throughout the course of the books. Book One is only the tip of the bloody dagger, my friends. And there are a lot more than zombies running around to contend with in the future of this saga.

4. RELIGION: Ironically enough, considering one of the main characters is an “ex man of the cloth” and the premise of the whole zombie caboodle is a new Hell on Earth, I did my damnedest to leave religion out of it. I wanted to avoid anything that’s been overly used in the genre so there is no religious nut preaching the Word, or references to Satan and the bible’s version of the Apocalypse. I created my own goddamn devil, for shit’s sake, just so I could avoid the one everyone else is going on about. As I said in #3, this mythos is entirely my own, from the bottom up. The only thing borrowed is some of the obvious concepts such as heaven and hell, zombies and demons. But the rest I developed from scratch. 

5. AWESOME: Wait, what…? YES…you will not find that fucking word used a single time in my novel. It is disgustingly overused in marketing, dialog and (I know I’m calling out the entire planet here but…) in every day exchanges. This goddamn word haunts me at every flick of the station, every casual conversation, every episode or contemporary story. It is a “safe” word (not to be confused with a “safe-word”) that is put in place of a more creative or “vulgar” one to express excitement. It’s what we say to little kids because we’re not comfortable blurting out “that’s fucking badass, little dude, yeah!”. Sure, there is a time and place for that word, but it is NOT in a goddamn zombie novel. 

So these are a few (of many) of the things I did differently to be sure my zombie story was unlike any other. To learn more about the book and how you can get your limited-to-500 Pure Art edition (signed by moi), slide on over to and poke around a bit. Check out the “Take A Taste link to sample the prologue, or the Our Story” link to read more about my philosophy behind creating it. For the ebook (for a limited time) use codeword GoPriestsGo to get the download for a price of YOUR CHOOSING. And, don’t worry, I’m really eager to get this out to as many people as possible so it is PERFECTLY OK TO ONLY PAY A PENNY. This is the first book in (hopefully) a saga, so I’m more than willing to give it away for practically free. The more people who read it the better. If you like what you’ve read here, please REBLOG.  And, as always, thanks for being a part of the New Hell, my ornery zomfolks.

GET BIT!!! -z/cm

New photo edit! I call him Chain-Nose Charles and he approves of this zombie novel. Creep on over to –> <- to learn more. -z 

The looming apocalyptic release of my first novel, Blood Magik: A Cold Day In Hell, intruding upon a suburban horizon under a blood-soaked sky–

 A demon queen gives rise to a horde of militant undead to spread the fear of her reign, but a freshly buried corpse in the midst has his own plans for the New Hell: revenge upon the man who killed him. A story swarming with zombie misfits and hell-spawned beasts, this sports-themed fantasy fuckery takes horror to a place it never should have gone: The hockey rink (and beyond).

A truly one-of-a-kind, contemporary mockery of literature that will have the goody-goody bookworms scoffing and the horror fans fiending for more. Take a stroll through death and sinew by visiting before the big leagues get a sniff of this sleazy bitch and mass produce it in a chintzy little paperback knockoff. -z