Title:
Perverse
Author: Larry Rodness
Series: Stand Alone
Genre: YA Supernatural/Vampires/Paranormal
Publisher: Itoh Press
Release Date: Dec 2012
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
18 year old Emylene Stipe, a 2nd generation Goth, is shaken
to the core when her make-believe world turns out to be real.
BRIEF SYNOPSIS
A supernatural fiction about a 2nd generation teenage Goth
teen named Emylene Stipe
who finds a charcoal sketch in an antique shop. When she
brings it home an image of a young
girl appears in the sketch and then materializes in her
apartment. Emylene introduces this girl
whom she nick-names ‘Poinsettia’, to the local Goth crowd
and the two become fast friends. But
Poinsettia has an ulterior motive for her sudden and strange
intrusion into Emylene’s life which
causes Emylene to question
her whole belief system.
Excerpt:
Defiant, Emylene continued down the street under the
assumption that it was her anger that was driving her, unaware that she was subconsciously
being pulled toward Other-Town by another force entirely. Soon she found
herself caught up in the hustle of the street, people wide-eyed with
excitement, as if they were on their way to a Beatles reunion or a motocross
death race. The closer she came to Other-Town the more she felt a palpable buzz
in the air, short-circuiting her thoughts and reaching deep into her loins
until all she could feel was an over-riding erotic urge that threatened to take
over her entire being. A feeling Laszlo knew all to well. Just a few more steps
and she’d be there.
"Emylene, one more step and you'll never see your
parents again! I guarantee it because you will have become one of them!"
Laszlo's croaking plea must have taken hold somewhere in her
because she stopped dead in her tracks right at the edge of the demarcation
line. Gazing through half-stoned eyes, she peered across the street at what
earlier today was a ghost town. Now the area was alive in strange and wonderful
ways! Buildings were lit with a seductive liquid neon, and music filled the air
with fat, juicy beats. Even the pavement was alive with thousands of sparkling,
crimson tendrils, an illuminated pathway welcoming everyone to a Mecca of
sensual mayhem.
"They named it 'Other-Town', you know, to make it sound
bland, almost harmless. But that's not what you're feeling now, is it?
Look…" said Laszlo.
He pressed his toe hard on the ground, and the tendrils
oozed playfully under his boot like a school of dancing minnows.
"Pretty, aren't they? Do you know what that is? That is
the blood of the victims who crossed over and never came back."
Just then, four brash youths pushed their way past Laszlo
and Emylene, acting like they were on their way to Spring Break.
"Let me go! I don't need your help!" argued Emylene.
"Of course you don't. Maybe those boys will help
you."
Emylene watched the youths enter the first bar they saw,
lured by the music.
"They are acting on the same impulses you feel now. It
will seduce them and then it will feed on them. Some will return, some won't.
Those who make it back will find themselves a little weaker the next day, like
that waitress back at the restaurant. They'll laugh it off, call it a hangover.
Except this hangover will never be over. After the first encounter they'll be compelled
to return again and again until they have been used up and their lifeblood
becomes part of the flow you see beneath your feet. Then those tendrils will
stretch a little further to take more of the city until, inch by inch….
Emylene, I told you about the Vrykolakas back in the old country. What you see
before you is different, worse. This is not one demon, but a town full of
demons, built to ensnare its victims and grow with each conquest. You and I are
the only ones who can stop it."
Emylene pressed her toe onto the glittering tendrils. Like
everyone else who touched them, she felt a slight tickle, and became giddy.
"I'll make you a deal, Emylene," he continued.
"I will do everything I can to help you find your parents. In turn you
will do everything to help me find my wife. And I promise, if I can't cure her,
I'll kill her. Emylene?"
No reply. Laszlo was not getting through to her. The
tendrils were becoming so magnificently overpowering now that if Emylene’s life
had slipped away then and there, it would have been all right with her. But,
something pulled her back. It might have been Laszlo's promise or the chanting
from a group of Cowled Men in a distant land or a chilling breeze coming off
the snow drifts on a cold, Croat farm. Whatever it was, it imbued Emylene with
enough resolve to pull herself back from the edge. The light that had gone out
in her eyes briefly had returned.
"Good girl," said Laszlo.
In the 80's Larry studied musical theatre writing with PRO
under Broadway conductor Layman Engel, which led him to write for dinner
theater. He then moved into the screenplay arena where he has written over a
dozen screenplays and has had 3 scripts optioned to date. In the past 2 years
he has also become a published novelist.
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