May My Next 61 Books move the world!!!!!!

Evaporate

Evaporate

Ron Koppelberger

Postponing spring bridles the hardheaded grace he shared with madness was risking the invisible picture. Fine Balm lay separate from the challenge of failure and substance. He had harnessed the frequency, the contract between purchase and evaporation, the wont of essentials and the likeness of a ghost. He had become invisible, evaporating by the second, a foot his eyes and then his legs, his wicked temper gone to sedate comfort.
Fine had showered and abandoned his need, his need to drink the essence of life, the blood of darling socialites and matrons in memento. Vampire fellowship, cosmopolitan endurance and specters in velvet, he had simple evaporation like harlots’ in secret.
Fine stifled a chuckle and danced in reviving awards of opiate sweet. He had gone invisible to the glare of the stars and the space between here and there. Patrons, lawless and wandering barefaced, intrigued his mind and in the end Fine gazed into the mirror seeing nothing. Embracing places of provision he saw the harbinger of suffering vitality and his sacred union with blood. Messy tears and hallowed promise expressed his prosperity as he fussed the hour of deadlock, he would taste the defeat of his failure with a vampires desire.

Danger

Danger

Ron Koppelberger

From the beginning to the end sloppy brilliance was unmovable, wrenched out of the shape he became fixed by. Profit Hard pictured fleshy morsels of tender prediction for his keystone house. He amended the ground with exceeding danger. The wager was meager in inexorable gospel, flexible yet dangerous he thought. Entire battlefields of victory depended on the terror the absolute ado of his dwelling.
Twitters and bursting spoils proffered the reward, of what he wondered, meager thrall, simple backwash assurance, tantalizing demons of err perhaps, mind over monster, mind over monster he though as the danger loomed from beneath the house.
Heedless he would favor the area, the house of concrete and mud, the caprice of it he thought as the demon approached on two legs. Docile passages filled his head and Profit sniffed at the air, human perhaps, monster absolute he agreed in the end. Bondage to danger and fearful tears of allocated disturbance, he volunteered his will, his energy, his spirit and the substance of his righteousness. The creature, portraits of delirium and decrees of opium gold filled his eyes for a moment, what is it he wondered. Maroon seas swam before it and the world of the living vanished for an instant. The danger, the danger……..prim and upright yet yelping like a beast from hell, the danger, the danger what was it he thought again? Rebelling from the mists the tide that threatened to kill his essence at every moment he retreated into the house and locked the doors. Someday he would be free to leave but for now there was the monster and the fear and the undeniable future wrought in blood.

Clumsey Tumult

Clumsy Tumult

Ron Koppelberger

Bright aspirations of inviting advise concerned the thoughts of Saint Call. He was a madman to the rest of the world nevertheless tender graces belonged to him in the shape of love and clumsy tumult. Saint was quite and the melting spring snows doted his shoes as he stood near the center of Manger Town Square. She passed him with an undecernable nod and a flash of impossible drama. He yelled to the sky, “Resist the temptation to shun the lost and the lonely few dear Scarlet as you mind your will to the fashion of garden circles!” She paused for a moment in her walk and stared at Saint. He was dressed all in black and his hair was standing on end. She laughed and said,
“Are you insane sir?” He paused for a moment and smiled at her,
“Sweet innocent what do you say in the wont of your desire, what gift have you for me on this spring day. She considered this for a moment and reached into her purse for some change.
Saint, evaded the dappled sun with the better of his arm as he shielded his eyes and whispered, “Wayward thoughtless, she has transformed me with her passion for the day.” he accepted the handful of change and she said,
“You are not a virgin calling to the spring bloom yet you are experience and secret desire………..I have your heart by the delicate will of gossip and fray, I shall make you my own someday dear man.” Saint arrayed himself differently from that point till the end of his life, his clumsy passion and the will to desire what can not be making the truth the truth and his fate better.

Attention Writers of Horror Fiction

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The Ghoul Saloon edited By Ron Koppelberger


For this anthology I would like stories about Ghouls…..living or dead. In Bars, in cars in the wild west, in school and maybe even on the moon! Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls in any world you would like… ” …we’ll all have a drink on the ghoul!” might be a line from one of the stories chosen for this anthology. Humor is ok and so is outright horror. Send me your best, the story you want to shine with.

Send submissions to: will806095@bellsouth.net with The Ghoul Saloon in the subject line.

Reprints are Fine as long as you hold the rights.

Send your submission in RTF Format.

Length: There is no minimum or maximum

*A for the love of only anthology, I have done dozens for the exposure!


FORMAT: Usual Static Movement formatting rules apply: single space with indented paragraphs, no space between paragraphs and standard 12 font. Use centered *** for scene breaks, and please put your bio at the end of the story in the manuscript. Please make sure your story is how you want it to appear in print, and pay attention to grammar and punctuation!

* Cover art to come.

*Poetry is fine......send it if you have it!

Read more: http://staticmovement.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=koppelberger&action=display&thread=849#ixzz26oCtpbwo

A Secret Art Surreal Dreams available at Amazon.com/Ron Koppelberger.....also available Surreal Dreams Two and Three.......this is truely amazing.....Will K. author of August Snow.