Holiday Book Buying

Today, as everyone probably knows by now, is Cyber Monday. It's the Internet equivalent of Black Friday where everybody rushes to their favorite online store and starts buying their holiday gifts--but without the swearing, shoving and groping. I think some marketing dweeb just made it up, but...many online stores offer free shipping and extra perks, so what the hell.

Anyway, for those with horror or western readers on your shopping list, I'd like to suggest giving my novels a try. I can't promise to come to your house dressed in a red suit but I'd be happy to toss a lawn gnome or two down the chimney...

You can purchase these at Amazon, Barnes & Noble or Borders online (or order them from the live stores if you're brave enough to battle the holiday shopping crowd. I'll provide the Amazon links.

If you or your gift getter enjoys witches, demons, zombies and a good old-fashioned horror romp there's:

GRIMM

http://www.amazon.com/Grimm-Howard-Hopkins/dp/1430306947/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1196095557&sr=1-1

If you are looking for a more Stephen Kingish type read there's:

NIGHT DEMONS

http://www.amazon.com/NIGHT-DEMONS-Howard-Hopkins/dp/1430318708/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1196095602&sr=1-2

Lovers of horror, suspense and dark fantasy short stories might enjoy:

DARK HARBORS

http://www.amazon.com/Dark-Harbors-Howard-Hopkins/dp/1430317167/ref=tag_dpp_lp_edpp_ttl_in

For the kids (8+) There's my horror series about a group of misfit kids who hunt supernatural mysteries called:

THE NIGHTMARE CLUB #1: THE HEADLESS PAPERBOY

http://www.amazon.com/Nightmare-Club-Headless-Paperboy/dp/1430306904/ref=sr_1_11?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1196095602&sr=1-11

For western fans who like their dust mixed with Vampires there's:

THE DARK RIDERS

http://www.amazon.com/Dark-Riders-Howard-Hopkins/dp/0615150071/ref=pd_bbs_sr_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1196095602&sr=1-3

And for western fans who like Ripper's:

PISTOLERO

http://www.amazon.com/Pistolero-Howard-Hopkins/dp/1430312742/ref=sr_1_12?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1196095602&sr=1-12

Author page: http://www.howardhopkins.com

Ta-Ta Time

(Insert easy offended stop warning here…ok, proceed, brave ones…)

I miss October.

Oh, it’s not because the month contains one of my very favorite holidays, Halloween. (For horror writers everyday is kind of Halloween.) Or because of crisp apples, blazing orange pumpkins, the intoxicating scent of rotting leaves and trees fiery with color. Those things are great, but as we slip into dreary—in Maine anyway—November I long for October for another reason.

I miss October because it is ta-ta month. Yep, it’s that stimulating time when the gals of MySpace and the blogosphere implore everybody to feel their ta-tas. I’m down with that. And some of the brave and beautiful even say it with photos. Photos are goooooood. Really good.

Ta-tas. Even the word is fun to say. Ta-tas. They just roll off the tongue. Um, I mean it just rolls off the tongue.

I miss those glowing October ta-ta days. It’s one reason I’m studying so diligently for my freelance breast examiner license. Well, that and the fact that ta-tas rule. They do. Big and little, black and white, all are precious…er, never mind. Lost it there for a moment.

So I am proposing we extend ta-ta October through November (maybe longer. I can definitely see a year-long event coming on here…)

I think there’s a French slang for ta-tas: ninny or ninnie or something to that effect. So I’m thinking Ninny November. No c’mon you didn’t think I would call it Nipple November, did you? Y’all know I can’t say nipple on here.

There are ta-ta police, you know…

Things that Dangle, Part 2

Ok, since I promised to continue with last week’s topic, dangling, those easily offended should change the channel now.

One…two…three…

You had your chance…


I am pretty certain if I had boobs I would never leave the house. I spend way too much time scanning the, um, boob tube, for them, worshipping from afar and anear. So if I had a pair of my own…problem solved. Right?

Well, maybe not. I get a notion they’re a lot more fun when you don’t have to haul them around or worry about them flopping out every time you bend over. Plus who needs more things that dangle and get caught in doors at unfortunate moments? I mean, really. But at least they don’t have the problem with slamming toilet seat covers in the dead of night. Unless you go to bed with a bottle of tequila and find yourself crawling to the porcelain goddess in the dark. Freak accidents and all that.

Um…oh, sorry, I was momentarily distracted by something dangling and fluffy…

So where was I? Oh, yeah, why are we so fascinated with dangling parts, anyway? Wish I knew. But since we were made with ‘em, I’m sure there must be a good reason.

So I will end this with two thoughts: One, I am seriously thinking about starting a Boobs for Books program. So fire up those digital cameras! Joking. Sorta. Maybe. I think.

And two, it could have been worse when it comes to talking about things that dangle…but talking about hemorrhoids for a few paragraphs really isn’t very appealing...

And to all those Dark Biters out there on my list, have a safe and spooky Halloween! For me it’s the only time of the year that Peanut Butter cups might get my attention off other types of cups.

Pffft, who am I kidding?

Things that Dangle...Part 1

Why is it human beings were made with dangling parts?

Those of you who let out a gasp at that statement, take a moment to catch your breath. Those who didn’t gasp, send me a photo resume…the female portion of the audience, that is.

Anyway, it goes both ways. Both genders. Um, I mean, who can resist playing with things that dangle? Women like things that dangle. God knows I am fixated on a couple dangling goodies. But since I can see the hole I am digging getting way too deep, I won’t expand on that angle any further.

The thing with dangling parts—and my focus this week will be on the male portion of the population--is they tend to get caught in stuff waaaay too easy. Especially in the dark. I have a feeling the Devil made toilet seat cover flaps just to keep us guys from getting too full of ourselves. FYI, if you get up to go potty in the dead of night and can’t find the light switch, pretend you’re a girl and sit. And for godssakes don’t buy a wooden seat cover. Or that bang you hear just may be the sound of a do-it-yourself gender change.

Doors are bad for dangling parts. Fruit of the Loom makes skivvies for a reason. To get even with door makers and prevent accidental dangling mishaps. Remember: guns don’t kill walnuts, slammed doors do.

And skinny dipping…well, let’s just say there are a lot of weirdo fish…
Sooo…I am going to leave this piece dangling. I’ll be getting around to my favorite dangling female parts again soon enough. Be warned. I didn’t call this dark bits for nothing…

Bathroom Humor...

Those easily offended by “bathroom” humor might want to change the channel now...

Ok, I warned you…

Anybody else have phobias about odd things? I don’t mean the usual fears of snakes, flying or horny trolls.

Well, maybe horny trolls.

I’m afraid of public restrooms. And not just because some government official might want to play footsie under the stall. I think it might be the smell. Don’t get me wrong, I have a weird attraction to the scent of those urinal cakes. I did try to eat a moth ball once, so no help for me there. But discounting the “other” odors natural to bathrooms there’s that unidentifiable toilet bowl essence only those too familiar with worshiping the porcelain goddess are intimate. I get the shakes just thinkin’ about it.

And there’s the fact that a public restroom can turn even the most well-mannered adult into a five-year-old. You know…that period in your life when you think boogers are really funny. Take a look at the stall walls someday. No, not just for the phone numbers. I’m pretty sure you’ll see what I’m getting at.

And toilet paper is NOT an ornament, people! It’s sacred stuff. White and fluffy. It should be cherished. It also comes in handy in the bedroom when you’re in a mummy mood…
But I digress. I won’t go into the five-year-old perspective too much because it only gets worse. Remember at five, not only are boogers funny but poop is guaranteed to get a laugh. So is…nevermind. I think I was better off with horny trolls. Maybe I’ll get to that next time.