Once again without shame or remorse (well, there’s some contrition, but not much), we here at Compatible Creatures present our ongoing plea to lay down some coin for my novel, “Brown-Eyed Girl With A Cold Corona,” self-published a couple of years ago by Outskirts Press.

The Amazon/Kindle page is here.
My author’s page at Outskirts is here.

Original ‘Published‘ post in March 2022 here.

One quick review:

Not since the Time Travelers Wife has a story tugged at my heart, f*** with my head, and left me so chilled, haunted and thoroughly impressed. A vivid, romantic and ultimately chilling debut, I sincerely hope this author doesn’t stop here. A new, genre bending talent has been unleashed and I personally can’t wait to see what he comes up with next.

Although a work of fiction, the storyline scenario is personal. A rough first draft was written in the summer of 1994, a mirror of my life at that time — mundane, regular life shit was ‘tweaked‘ to create/reflect a ‘horror/ghost story‘ ambiance — and after several re-writes, editing jobs was typed-up/hard-copied/storied into a Poor Richard’s Press cardboard box, where it remained for nearly 20 years. Despite some doubts about publishing — in many ways, that original ‘Corona‘ draft was a type of therapy then (30 years ago was a time of way-way-heavy change for me) and maybe should have remained locked up.
However, four years ago the manuscript was transferred from Comic Sans script on paper to disc. The rest is history with publishing in March 2022.

Simple, easy-to-follow plot — off ‘Corona‘ back cover:

Life can sometimes alter course in a finger snap. One second existence seems normal, the next, an out-of-step leap beyond the imagination. A night bar-hopping during Spring break on the California coast shifts from the typical to peculiar and strange in scant moments.
As if out of thin air, she was suddenly sitting close, leaning inward at the little table, her face directly at him. Large, brown eyes intimate and captivating, demanding full attention. The bar’s loud, swirling noise of music and muffled chatter seemed to have quickly vanished into shadow.
Easily, he closed off everything with total focus only on those liquid-brown eyes. In minutes, he fell completely head-over-heels in love, gobsmacked like a virgin little boy.

However, in just a brief, single tick when he’d once glanced away, she vanished. So astonishingly quick the episode, he never got a name or a telephone number. And other people had seen her in the bar, so she was real. Or was she? Such is the beginning.

In an ensuing couple of days, he tumbles like Alice down the rabbit hole. He’s no virgin little boy, but middle-aged and fighting the loose tendrils of a mid-life crisis — divorce, children (for instance, he occasionally smokes pot with his 15-year-old daughter), intense guilt about everything, and booze, all combined for close-call disaster. Yet petty compared to the wondrously-haunting hallucinations he encounters created off that one night with the young woman.

An illusory mystery revealing a murder, though, in an abnormal sequence.

All told in a quick-paced, first-person narrative form. This is the 14th episode of ‘Please, Please Buy My Novel‘ since publication — usually every couple of months a supplication — and I discontinued numbering the occasions after the tenth. Now the new versions just carry synonyms of the word, ‘infinity.’
Additional influence — front/back cover:

By the way, did I mention the Amazon/Kindle page is here?

Obligatory to edify:

Bestseller, or not, yet here we are once again…