fiction

Book Series Blurbs

~ Blaine Arcade ~ 3 Comments

Here are the blurbs for my most in-depth and lengthy works, spanning several volumes, be they part of large arcs or simply taking place in the same world.  You can check out the blurbs for short stories, novelettes, novellas, novella/novelette series, and standalone books at these links.

The Captain Rob Series

(Captain Rob Fights, Captain Rob Sinks, Captain Rob Robs, and Captain Rob Deals)

porcecoversmall

Born from ridiculous contrasts, high fantasy and lowbrow humor, one note jokes and epic book series, comes the four volumes of Captain Rob!

Rich with lore and odors, the world of Porce is much more than a gigantic public restroom to its many races and creatures.  In the waters of Third Sink a maligned vessel is commanded by Captain Kilrobin Ordr, fierce pirate, slightly undead warrior, and gentleman scholar, well… man scholar.

The Captain and his crew face many challenges on their journeys, from graffiti worshiping Toil Papists who praise their god’s glory at Glory Hole to monsters engineered by the world to defeat them, along with bloodthirsty reflections, sewer-sea beasts, and tornado spewing hand dryers.  Do you have the courage to peek behind the bathroom door and find out what’s making all those terrible sounds!?  Then barge right in and partake in the plumbing of new depths! Continue reading →

Don’t Strike the Platform

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Don’t Strike the Platform

by

Blaine Arcade

Cupcakes awaited in the break room; the scent was clear as he’d passed by. His coworkers figured he couldn’t smell through the hood, but it was much thinner than people thought. Black as night, yet clear as a bell. All his senses were needed to get his swing right.

And by the reaper he had gotten it right, every time, every year, up to today. His final swing: the 733rd. One strike. If it took two his record was ruined. Retirement would sour. Cupcakes would taste like ash.

The swinger made his way up the five steps to his black platform, sealed slats ready for runoff. Closed audience. Two television cameras. Everyone around the country knew him, but none knew his face, just the expert swing. The block was locked in with the basket. Clean, but not slippery. Good job Phil. Phil was on rags and mops. Good guy, No perfect record though.

Up came the squirmer with his handlers. They marched him up, bent him, and locked him on the block. Squirming couldn’t do any good now, but most kept going like live bait. Continue reading →

Twitch Stream Stories Redux #6: Recognizable Scratches

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These stories were written live on stream based on prompts provided by the viewers. They have been edited, with this second more in-depth edit occurring much later, but not meaningfully rewritten or expanded so as to preserve the spirit of the exercise. Sadly, the prompts themselves were not recorded until many stories in.  Sometimes the prompts were silly challenges, or quirky thoughts, or dark ideas, or utter nonsense.  I did my best each time.

If you enjoy this, please check out the other activities from the stream. If you would like something longer and much more thoroughly planned, simply investigate my more traditional work at the top of the page.

Recognizable Scratches

prompt provided by Chaytoncross

Six little pairs of shoes hovered a foot off the old wooden floor of the schoolhouse. The seventh pair belonged to an adult and shuddered up and down where the others were deathly still. Four button noses were pressed against the peeling paint, flakes falling faster than ever thanks to their giggling. One of the girls tapped on the wood and waited for a response.

Clop, clop, clop, the wall responded, exactly like the hoof stamps of a pony. Their giggles answered it. The girl tapped on the wall twice more. Clop clop. Continue reading →

Twitch Stream Story: You See Strange Blackbirds There

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Author’s Note:  This flash fiction story was written based on a prompt provided by certified_lover_boy_ during a livestream.  I hereby transfer all story rights to them, with the caveat that it remain posted on this blog.  If you would like your own story, stop by twitch.tv/blainearcade during one of my streams and I’ll write it for you live!

Prompt: In a secluded mansion on the outskirts of a quaint town, the eccentric Blackwood sisters guard their family secrets with unwavering devotion. When an unexpected visitor disrupts their isolated existence, the delicate balance of their mysterious world is thrown into turmoil.

Of course, you see a lot of strange things other than blackbirds on the sisters’ grounds. Nobody knows where they got all those carriages, or who used to be inside, just that the vines had taken their place.

Oh and the weather, it seems to start over their mansion, right out of the chimney sometimes. That’s why I don’t go anywhere near there. You’re not thinking of going are you? You are!? Well then, sit down, please, let me tell you a story, my treat. Continue reading →

Peanut Gallery (Section 2)

~ Blaine Arcade ~ 1 Comment

Peanut Gallery is a never-ending story written live on stream, with contributions taken from the audience.  New watchers become characters, and commentary can be integrated wholly or in part in numerous wild ways.  If you would like to participate, join us over on my Twitch channel and click follow to stay up to date.

Reconnaissance Cafe

A good deal happened, but it was all a blur to Par, up until the moment he took the first bite of his club sandwich. After his meeting, after shaking off its contents, he had hopped in the nearest taxi and returned to his apartment, on a respectable sixteenth floor, a good safe distance from the Twenty-Seventh. Continue reading →

Heirs of Cain: Venus in Charge

~ Blaine Arcade ~ 2 Comments

Severin Molochi is in love with a goddess.  She’s not the kind found in a church, or that you can take with you to church for that matter.  She’s of the old, muddy, animal line of Cain: those who gained power in the world’s first murder.  Just as Severin and his goddess Wanda are settling in their new home, setting up her future dominion, her jealous siblings come calling, but they’re not after her.  They want every gods’ most valuable asset, the mortal chosen as the conduit between them and the people, who in this case happens to share her bed.

Heirs of Cain, a gothic horror fantasy erotic thriller novelette series, concludes here.

(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 30 minutes)

Heirs of Cain

Venus in Charge

Locked in battle I was, with none other than my goddess herself, my dearest who so transcends the term wife, the mother of my child with so much more potential than I will ever have: Wanda Blasphemer Pelts.

The grueling ordeal entered its fourth hour, judged by the sun’s journey, as Wanda controls my sense of time’s passage and could have been using it against me to gain an edge in our high stakes contest. Half my army was gone, banished to their dark central grave, and there were traitors in the midst of those that remained. Continue reading →

Peanut Gallery (Section 1)

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Peanut Gallery is a never-ending story written live on stream, with contributions taken from the audience.  New watchers become characters, and commentary can be integrated wholly or in part in numerous wild ways.  If you would like to participate, join us over on my Twitch channel and click follow to stay up to date.

Peanut Gallery

by

Blaine Arcade

with contributions from

the Twitch.tv marginalia

The Chatterbox

The Chatterbox

We join in media resting on a couch too tight-lipped to be comfortable, forcing him to put his long legs, awkward given that he wasn’t tall in the slightest, on the coffee table next to the spread magazines. He was definitely a person, but less of a man than his appearance and mannerisms might suggest, more of a guy, a fellow, a ranchless dude, a quenched chap, an every-man with emphasis on the ‘every’.

He was Biy Beforay, and he was getting less comfortable in his vest, rolled-up sleeves, and leather belt by the moment, attacking his collar with a hooked finger, despite having never even donned the suit jacket. Whenever that hand left the collar to recover, it returned to the small object in his lap, bearing two mother of pearl push buttons with white gold rims. Nervously, his thumb danced around the larger and higher button. Continue reading →

Declaration: Pilgrim’s Anchor (finale)

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(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 37 minutes)

Correspondence for Proposed Prisoner Exchange

More weeks had passed, Fool’s Gold Floyd as diligent a calendar as his many other functions. The date was December 11th, which meant the Stoking Dramas were now just three days away. After that would come the first blizzard of Pursuitia’s aggressive winter, blanketing the ground in penetrating permafrost that could claim all a man’s toes before he could take as many steps.

If the blizzard came and Blueberry was still incarcerated then she would be riding out the entire winter with the Bickyplots, who would themselves not dare to leave Bickering Hall the entire time but for the briefest and most vital of errands. The fiends would grow bored, then cajole Chattelpool into breaking out his favorite pet for them to play games with in the torture dungeon-cum-gaming hall they undoubtedly possessed. Continue reading →

Declaration: Pilgrim’s Anchor (part four)

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(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 7 minutes)

Log of Two Hundred and Forty some Severed Personalities

The company’s retreat could’ve been five times as raucous, the giant Franklin kite could’ve struck shrieking sharpsychords instead of Bickyplots, and Private Blueberry still would not have heard it. Partly this was sheer focus, the narrowing of her perception so that it excluded everything from the bigger battle to the breath whistling out her own nose, so that all she heard was the pitter-thump-patter and scrabbling tooth scratching of Bludgehaven’s heart across the wooden floors deep within Bickering Hall.

Also contributing was the labyrinth of chambers, causing even sound to lose its way. Half the rooms had purposes she couldn’t guess. Interior balconies overlooking nothing. Hot coal floors with uneven rake marks. A sauna of yellow clouds and what might have been chunks of vegetables floating through them, suggesting it was a gas of soup not water. Doors boarded up, painted over, clutter piled in front, terrible, angry, living noises piled behind. Continue reading →

Declaration: Pilgrim’s Anchor (part three)

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(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 27 minutes)

The Rules for a Trip to Jerusalem

Independence Hall was locked tight for several days, nary a Founder coming or going, with many of the young staying in private rooms or the barracks left with nothing to do but keep their ear to the wall, pointlessly so considering that the rooms in which those men debated and drafted were so heavily posted with their own authority that no sound could escape them.

What they debated was without question. How would the mission plan be affected by this unexpected invitation to the very same event they might attempt to infiltrate? Could they afford to let the opportunity simply pass by? And whether or not he would be accompanied by a full company of soldiers, would a Founder be in attendance? Continue reading →