Author dell Sweet @ Amazon
iTunes The Zombie Plagues links
THE ZOMBIE PLAGUES LINKS GEO DELL
The Zombie Plagues Book One
The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 1
The Zombie Plagues Book Two
The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 2
The living have fallen only to rise again as the living dead… #iTunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-zombie-plagues-book-two/id712828153?mt=11
The Zombie Plagues Book Three
The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 3
The struggle for life is contested by the dead, if you lose they win #Zombie #iTunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-zombie-plagues-book-three/id718606094?mt=11
The Zombie Plagues Book Four
The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 4
The living turn the tables and begin to hunt the dead. https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/zombie-plagues-book-four-outrunners/id757924377?mt=11
The Zombie Plagues Book Five
The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 5
The new society of the living faces major problems that may break it. https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-zombie-plagues-book-five/id987794002?mt=11
The Zombie Plagues Book Six
The Zombie Plagues – The Zombie Plagues, no. 6
Plague is the new book in the Zombie Plagues series. How the Undead Apocalypse started… #Undead #Zombie #Horror https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-zombie-plagues-plague/id1278635477?mt=11
The Zombie Plagues Box Set
The Zombie Plagues – Box Set
He came awake in the darkness, but awake wasn’t precisely the term. Alive was precisely the term #Dead #zombies https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-zombie-plagues-box-set/id1257737729?mt=11
The Zombie Plagues Dead Road
The Zombie Plagues – Dead Road
The Collected books. The complete Zombie Plagues collection in one volume #Undead #Dead #iTunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/zombie-plagues-dead-road-collected/id1138525466?mt=11
Posted by Geo 07-20-2017
Do you have anyone in your life that means a great deal to you? Stupid question, right? We all do. But, no, we all don’t. There are people who close the door on relationships and slap some padlocks on it and say, “That’s it! No one else gets in!”. So it isn’t really a stupid question when you get down to the real level where things do matter. I did not have anyone in my life that mattered on that level. Yes, some family, but family can live without you, often does. No serious relationships. No reaching out for anything either. The doors were locked. I don’t usually wax heavy here and I wont, I would just say that yes, the world can be a bad place sometimes, but if you keep the doors shut you’ll never know how good it could have been. Just food for thought, not really trying to go anywhere with this line of thought. Okay, I’ll move on.
Let me relate this story to you. This actually occurred. I’m not taking a swipe at anyone at all here and I suppose I could have seen this a different way, not humorous, but I tend to try to find humor in things…
So I’m at the dollar store with Mom a few months back at she spies these pink cell phones and decides to buy one to support Breast Cancer and it’s a good cause and it says it’ll be so easy to move your number, set it up. A snap, plus it comes with a Cadillac full of minutes and a camera, and, well, it’s pink. So she buys it. I was for it because I am a cheap kind of guy and I would end up with her old phone which is perfectly fine, it’s just old. It’s been perfect for four years. No problems. Just ate minutes and pooped data, or phone calls. Bad analogy there but you get the idea. So, great phone, just old and a new one beckoned. I would bet there are people reading this who have almost gotten into relationship problems using that same reasoning. Funny the double standards we have, eh?
So, she buys the phone, we go home and I go to work on the computer because other than working and chasing Horny Tom Cat’s away from my cat that’s about all I do. So I typed away for a few minutes, but I kept hearing these sighs and mutterings, so finally I said… “Uh, Mom… Everything okay?”
Let’s set the record straight I knew everything was not okay, but I was hoping for an answer like “I’m taking this $#@%^ phone back it is junk!” Yes. I was actually hoping for that answer. Instead, I got … “I can’t figure it out. I’m doing exactly what it says…”
“Okay,” I soothed. I am a man. I know how to fix these things and most of the time I don’t even have to read the manual. I didn’t say that. I have learned not to say it because it just turns out to be that one time when I can’t do it and I look stupid. So I took the phone and spent the next hour doing all the same things Mom had and getting nowhere.
“$#@**%# Phone,” I said.
“I told you,” Mom agreed. “There’s a number to call.” She held up a piece of paper and I couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t given me the piece of paper earlier when I could have possibly used it, but then I reminded myself that I never would have used it anyway.
“Hmmm.” I frowned and looked over the number. “So. You have a phone that doesn’t work and they give you a tech number to call.”
“Well, you have the other one.”
“Yes, but what if I didn’t?”
Mom shrugged and I realized the stupidity of my own question, still, didn’t it sort of make sense? Isn’t it sort of like offering a drunk a drink while he waits for the AA meeting? I don’t know. Reluctantly I punched the number into the other cell phone, pretty much jammed the end of the cell phone halfway into my brain and waited.
The phone stopped burring and a Voice came on the line. Computer voice. Push one for billing issues, two if you’ve had an affair with a politician, three for technical support. I pushed three but I didn’t push it fast enough because the whole thing played again. I ended up having to call back and immediately press three.
Now, let me say this delicately, why would you get a job in tech support for American consumers if English is not your first language? And, why would a major company hire you? After thirty seconds of trying to understand the woman I gave the phone to Mom hoping the kindred spirit thing would kick in but no, she couldn’t understand her either. She gave me back the phone. Apparently womaneez doesn’t cross the language barriers easily.
It must have been about two hours later and the third string of numbers the woman had given me before the phone finally began to work.
“You are being happy with your experiences?” The tech asked me.
“Are you serious,” I asked?
“Yes. Of Course. Serious is what I am being.”
“Oh God,” I said aloud. “Have you ever heard this?”
“Yes? I am Listening.” She obviously thought we had bonded.
I hung up. Mean, I know.
Two days later there was a recall on Mom’s Coffee Maker. I called tech support.
“Yes? I am being happy to be taking your call.”
“Never mind I’ll buy a new one.” I said.
A week later my new laptop croaked. I called customer service.
“Yes? I can be helping you?”
“What? Do you work for the Coffee maker place?”
“No. That is my sister, Sari.”
Okay. That’s it for this week. Check out my book series. I’ll be back next week…
Check out the Zombie Plagues below…
Posted by Geo 4:50 AM 07/17/2017
What I am up to…
I am working on the second Dreamers book and the second Rebecca Monet novel with Dell. I also published the sixth Zombie Plagues book recently and I am working on two new Guitar Works books, six and seven. That is my time laid out for me.
Misspent youth: How I got beat up the first few times – And Old School Mothers…
When I was a kid there was no Internet, phones were barely more than curiosities that not everyone could afford, and Jesus was only in the second grade. Uh, before God zaps me let me explain that, that would be Jesus Santos whose parents had moved to Galveston where I went to school at Island Elementary, not the savior that died on the cross.
But, that brings up a point, why name the kid that? Wouldn’t you be a little concerned that some smart Alec like me would come along and say. “Hey, are you that Jesus?” and “So, where are your disciples?”
Anyway, after Jesus punched me I realized that people with funny names can fight. And right after that I realized if you point that out to the person in casual conversation Jesus just might punch you again. I was not a smart child, a little brainy, but lacking common sense. What would have been great is if I could have taken Jesus through life with me to help me see those things. But no, not too long after that we moved to New York and I realized that people with funny accents tend to want to smack you when you point that out to them. And, not only that, they’ll turn it around on you and claim you have the accent because you came from Texas… I think I fought every day for the first few weeks.
But I fought. I didn’t call their cell phone and leave a nasty message. I didn’t leave a nasty note on their Facebook account, or hack it. That’s all I read about lately. That’s how it’s done. No face to face stuff. Of course, as I said we didn’t have Internet and phones were not for causal calls. I could see me picking up the phone and calling Jesus’s house…
“Oh… is this little George? How is your mother?”
And that would have been the end of it right there. Small town. Maybe we had a half dozen phones, and everyone knew everyone. His mother would have recognized my voice, asked about my mother, and then what could I say? “Oh, she’s fine, and, by the way, Mrs. Santos, do you know if Jesus found his disciples yet?”
Even if I had done it I would have no more hung up the phone than Jesus’s Mom would have been on the phone to my mom. My mom would have hung up the phone and, as we used to say back then, my ass would have been grass. The shit would have hit the fan. Never mind ‘Wait until your Father gets home’ Moms were prepared to deal with you back then. They may have looked like lightweights… No tattoos or piercings, gym bodies or anything else. They were just tough no nonsense moms hanging out in the kitchen in their June Cleaver shifts baking pot roasts and meatloaf, but they were tough. Truthfully, if you asked a group of old school mothers where Jimmy Hoffa is they could probably tell you. They were that tough.
“Do you know who that was?” She would ask me…
“Mother Mary?” See, once you start down the road of smartassery it’s hard to stop.
Have you ever eaten soap? I have, and a conversation that made smart remarks about both Jesus and his mother would have been a soap eating offense.
But we didn’t do those things, mainly because we didn’t have the technology and secondary to that any kids mother could put a foot in your butt back then. It was a federal law. I’m pretty sure. So whatever you did it was coming back at you, so kids took care of things themselves.
The whole thing with Jesus taught me about emotion and how boys handle it. Taught me to duck a punch too. You would think it would teach me to shut up, but no. I decided that since I seemed to have a big mouth, and that teeth were made to last a lifetime, I had better learn how to fight. Somehow I decided in my head that learning how to fight would be easy. And then? Well, if I wanted to make smart remarks about Jesus and his little disciples I could. Of course the part of the equation I had missed was learning. I had to learn to fight, and learning to fight meant getting punched in the face. So, not only was I still getting punched in the face, I was volunteering to do it and I couldn’t even punch them back!
I think it was around my third time in an actual boxing match that I began to think it might be smarter to, one: Read about it first. Two: Try really hard to fall down with my face off to one side. Big noses break easy. Three: Find some other way to spend my Saturday instead of getting beat up.
After I woke up from my last fight I decided that Karate was probably smarter. I mean Kato was really cool. It looked so easy. That was great until I realized that not only would people be punching me in the face they would also be kicking me … In the face… Really hard... And anywhere else their feet could reach… Kids have bad aim. But the good thing I learned was, it is really hard to break your eye… Either one of them. And a point of fact, people with funny names can also kick box like crazy too. And a punch from a gloved hand or foot can still ring your bell. So if, let’s say the guys name was Frances, and he hated the name Frances, it might not be too smart to say things like ‘Frances Is A Sissy’ (Francis of Assisi) damn Catholic school knowledge. Or do you know what Nun means? None for you and None for me! Ha, ha, ha, ouch! My mouth is broken.
After a while I learned to fight. Either that or all the kids with funny names or in Catholic school would have just continued to beat me up all through school and I couldn’t have that. And I learned to fight when I realized I had a funny name too. Huh. You know I think kids can turn any name into a funny name. Gladys becomes Glad Ass, obviously if your last name is Kuntz you’re in for it. A kid in my class had that name. And a kid named Beeman… “Hey! Where’s your Bees Man?” Oh… We were so clever.
So, I grew up and got a job as a writer. Now when I don’t like someone I just kill them off in a plot and then throw a disclaimer in the front of the book saying it wasn’t them. Piece of cake. And if I want to pick on someones name I let the characters do it for me. And I never allow any of the characters to pick on my name. After all, they’re my characters.
Okay. I have to go. That whole Jimmy Hoffa thing has me curious. I have to go ask Mom about it!
Hey, get the Zombie Plagues free. First two books, at Smashwords, Nook, I-Tunes, Diesel, etc… Here’s the Smashwords link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/5280
And check out the newest collection, the Zombie Plagues box set: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/734680
Have a great week! Geo…
Posted by Geo 07-12-2017
These are random thoughts I wrote out and then left: As a writer there are somewhere around three million thoughts streaming into your brain at the speed of light all the time unless you are sleeping…
What if you knew that the last image of you in death, like Elvis sitting on the toilet seat, would be seen by everyone? Would it make you live your life differently if you knew at the very last breath that everyone would know who you are, what you were in life, see a clear picture, see a picture of you, dead, reduced to an inanimate corpse. No magic. You can’t fly. You didn’t miss the bullet. You are no longer a star, bigger than life, you died just like everyone else. And all the things you covered up during that lifetime, all the times when you could have bent, changed, helped, are gone. And everybody knows what you did and didn’t do. Would it change you? Would it mean anything to you to know that, or would you continue to be the person you are right now? (I went searching for a picture of Elvis. I found a picture of Elvis dead, sitting on the toilet. I was sort of shocked. I felt as though it made who he was kind of small. In the end there he was, dead, sitting on his toilet.)…
Did you know there are places in this world where people start their day without coffee? Like a refugee. A refugee doesn’t get the chance to have coffee in the morning. If I was a refugee I’d be like, “Hold your ass! I’m having my coffee here! You rebels are starting to piss me off!” (One of those mornings, any morning really, when I have to do things before I have had my coffee.)…
The Litter box zone:
If you have a cat you have a litter box, unless you’re one of those aliens that teach their cats to use the toilet (They’re probably alien cats. I tried to teach mine and it nearly drowned… Twice). We scoop cat crap, get embarrassed when our friends come over and the cat suddenly decides that fancy fish dinner has settled enough and blows up the house, but if your friend Bob came over, walked into the corner of one of your rooms and took a crap, and then threw some sand over it, would that be okay?
“Whew,” says Bob as you are trying to decide what in hell just happened. “That fancy fish dinner had to go.”
Of course it wouldn’t be okay, so why do we allow cats to do the very same thing and then calmly take a scoop and cover it or remove it? And what about litter that absorbs odor? Doesn’t work. You could blindfold me, walk me around my house and I guarantee I could tell you when I hit the liter box zone. “Yep… Right here. Smells like wet sand/clay and cat sh*t,” I would say. (Do you have a cat? Enough said then.)…
Cat Trials: To determine whether cats truly do have nine lives.
Closed after one test… No, Cats do not have nine lives.
Excuses for why the cat is gone.
It was past it’s expiration date so I had to chuck it.
There was a terrible showdown between the cat and three mice. I think the mice were carrying knives. It was bad. Yes, they may have been blind mice, but they were friggin’ mean blind mice.
I traded that cat for Volkswagen
What cat? We had a cat?
Other Cat Stuff…
Used cats: You never see ads for used cats, you know, “Gently used cat. Very low miles. Will trade for good dog, beaver or camping tent.”
One of the things I have against cats: They have fur all over them, and since I am in denial about having evolved from some sort of monkey or other animal, it bothers me to know they may rise and take over the world some day. Funny? I’ll bet that’s what the other monkeys thought about 25,000 years ago when Bob the different monkey shocked them all by fixing a hamburger and fries for dinner instead of insects and grass.
Whistling: If you whistle to a dog they’re coming. He or she will be right there. Whistle to a cat and they may flip you off, but they’re not coming.
Things you never hear… “Brother, can you spare a cat?”
“Give a man a potato he can eat for a day. Teach a man how to grow a potato and a cat will probably come along, dig up his garden and crap in it.”
Things I have not seen:
Three legged cats. Cats with their suitcases packed (Do they have suitcases?). Cats with a drivers license. Talking cats. Unpretentious cats.
Okay, enough foolishness…
On other fronts….
I don’t know why I should be surprised when Wednesday shows up and I am no further ahead to catching up on things than I was the week before. Yet every mid week here I am, surprised again. And that would be funny except it’s true, which sort of makes it even funnier.
There was progress last week of course, just not as much as I would like to see. I always want mega progress, the whole board wiped clean and of course that is not going to happen because as the board empties on one end it fills on the other. That is life for most of us I would bet.
What else happened this week: An Amazon page for me.
That leaves Hurricane that was slated to be released last fall and will move to next summer. I like the story and I would like to get it out there but there are dozens of things in between myself and that happening.
This blog is where you will find information from me every Monday. Dell will also do informational blogs.
That’s it for this Wednesday. I hope your week so far was a good one, I’ll be back next week, Geo Dell…
Writers and how we think
Writing Posted by Geo
Writers… We often sit around and think things like this…
“It was a warm winter that year…”
No, no, no… Hmm…
“It was the winter of our…” No, already used… Damn…
“Winter came quickly to the north country as it was wont to do. My brother and I had just come around to our turn to wear the fall coats, there were only the two coats for the fifteen of us children. With them, we were able to play outside while our siblings were stuck inside. It would have been better if we had also had the shoes, but it wasn’t our turn yet…”
No, no, no. Too melodramatic…
“It was a long, cold winter. The cat had a litter sometime in there. A few kittens, maybe four. I often wonder what happened to those kittens. I only know we had meat for Christmas that didn’t in the slightest resemble Turkey…”
No, no, no… It was the dog…
“The dog had a litter that winter… They were fast growing puppies and by December they were half grown, as fat and sassy as could be. I remember petting the one I had named Dingo on the head just before bed a few nights before Christmas. I remember that clearly, yes I do, and it was the last time I ever saw Dingo…. I think so anyway. It’s tough to tell. All I know is that we had meat for Christmas dinner. A small ham, Mom said., but it didn’t resemble any ham I’d ever seen…”
“PETA called, knock it off.”
“It was a long cold winter that year. The rats in the basement had eaten the corn crop and left us starving… Daddy said we wouldn’t have to resort to eating rats, but as he headed toward the basement with a claw hammer I wondered…”
By Geo Dell.
Hey! Check out the Zombie Plague on NOOK! By me!
The Zombie Plagues Book One (A FREE Nook eBook!)
What if the world ended tomorrow? What would you do? Would you be able to survive?
The Zombie Plagues Book Two
The Zombie Plagues books follow a small group of men and women as they struggle to survive on a vastly changed earth
The Zombie Plagues Book Three
Life is good for those who are lucky, but out in the real world it’s a different story…
The Zombie Plagues Book Four: The Outrunners
I saw the Zombie on Madison take a mouthful of her back, just below the curve of her neck…
The Zombie Plagues: Book Five
The Fifth Book picks up the Story of Billy and Beth and their flight out of the ruins of L. A.
The Zombie Plagues Dead Road: The Collected books.
Contains books 1 thru 6. Books One through five were published, book six was not…