Hey you guys, Hell Night is live on the Kindle store! Pick up a copy! Read it! Enjoy it! Post a review! You’re awesome!
Okay, I know I said that the book would be out in January. As it turns out, that was a filthy lie. But don’t despair, it’s coming soon! We had some minor production hiccups, and the manuscript went back to Santa’s workshop for a few weeks. Things are back on track now, but I’m still not entirely sure about the release date. I’d like to thank everyone for their enthusiasm and their patience.
Story time. As those of you who read The Devil’s Mouth early on know, that book had a fair amount of typos. Those were all my fault, and due largely to my own impatience, not to mention my vast overestimation of my own proofreading skills. The result was a final product that was less than it could have been. Those mistakes cost me with reviewers, and, I’m sure, with a fair number of readers. It wound up being an embarrassment to me, and to everyone else involved in the book.
Your enthusiasm has been contagious. I’ve been working my butt off to try and get the new book out as soon as possible, but I have to force myself to take a deep breath. And then let it out, because otherwise I wouldn’t be breathing anymore and I’d die. Seriously though, I hate to push the release date back, but I want to take as much time as is needed to make sure this one is as good as I can make it. If people hate it, I’d at least like them to hate it for subjective reasons.
Thanks for your patience,
Hey folks, just a quick update. Hell Night is coming. Pretty soon. Like really pretty soon. I’ve been quite busy getting all my ducks in a row, and, you know, life stuff. I’ve also been slightly more active at my weird side project, The Mud Lake Proboscis, so if you’re into ill-conceived liberal propaganda, check that out. More updates to follow.
ALEX RAINS knows all about hunting vampires—after all, that’s his job, and he’s the best at what he does. But when he follows a lead to the tiny desert town of Prosperity, Nevada, Alex quickly learns that vampires aren’t the only things that go bump in the night. He’s just as surprised as the town’s residents when the dead start walking the streets of Prosperity . . . and they’ve got a bit of an appetite.
Together with a ragtag group of survivors, Alex will have to dodge undead horrors and small-town drama as he digs into Prosperity’s darkest secrets and macabre Wild West heritage to figure out why the dead aren’t staying dead, discover what–or who–is responsible, and put a stop to it . . . before the whole mess gets out of hand.
After dealing with the undead in Prosperity, Alex Rains is going to have to update his resume.
It’s sunny with a chance of apocalypse in HELL NIGHT, Matt Kincade’s eagerly anticipated follow-up to THE DEVIL’S MOUTH. With HELL NIGHT, Kincade once again delivers fast-paced, gritty pulp action, engaging characters, and delightfully grim humor.
What the heck is a Bearalope? Where the heck is Prosperity?
That’s why we call it a teaser.
Alex Rains knows all about killing vampires. Too bad it’s not vampires this time. If Alex survives his trip to Prosperity, he’s going to need to update his resume.
Here’s another little vignette starring rockabilly vampire hunter Alex Rains, star of the soon to be released novel The Devil’s Mouth.
Terry leaned sideways across the armrest of the old couch, one hand behind his head and the other across the back of the couch, holding a lit cigarette between two fingers. His mohawk wasn’t done up, and the blonde stripe of hair fell down to one side. He was shirtless, and had a skull tattoo over his heart.
Amber leaned into Terry, her head against his bare chest. Her tank top rucked up over her lean belly, revealing a bangly navel piercing. She readjusted and scooted higher upon him, her knees tucked up close.
The little house was dark, only lit by the TV.
“Babe,” said Terry, “I’m hungry.”
“I know,” she replied, playing with his hair. “But I can’t do it again. Not this soon.”
“Oh come on, just a little bit.”
“No, Terry. I can’t. I’m still dizzy from last time.”
“But I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Terry picked up the TV remote from amongst the mess on the coffee table and changed the channel. “But baaaaabe, I’m hungry.”
“You just ate yesterday.” She rubbed her hand against his bony chest. “You said you’d be good for three days.”
“But I’m hungry now.”
“You know I can’t do it again so soon.”
Terry took a drag off his cigarette. “I don’t see why you have to be such a bitch about it.”
“Come on, Terry. I love you.”
“I’m just kidding.” He blew out smoke. “Bitch.”
“Don’t say that.” She snuggled against him like a child. “Just love me.”
“I love you even though you’re a bitch.” He tapped ashes onto the floor and then snaked an arm around her shoulders. She sighed contentedly.
Terry leaned in, parting his lips as he neared her neck. “I’ll just take a little bit. Just a pint.”
“No, babe. Please.”
He pulled his lips back, razor sharp fangs slick with saliva. His breath was hot on her neck. “But you taste so good. You know you want it.”
“Please no, Terry, you know what’ll happen.”
“It’ll just hurt for a second.”
“Bitch.” He leaned in, and suddenly his hand was an iron collar around her neck. “You couldn’t stop me. I could just take what I want.” He rested his lips against her neck, and the tips of his fangs just grazed the skin. Her breath hitched.
She squirmed, halfheartedly pushing against his chest. “You know I couldn’t. But you love me.”
Terry grinned. “If you won’t do it, maybe I’ll go find some girl who will. Maybe I won’t be so nice to her. What about your sister?” Still holding her fast, he leaned forward and dropped his cigarette butt into one of the empty beer bottles on the coffee table.
She grimaced, and her voice was a childlike whimper. “Please, babe. I can’t. I’m still sick from last time.”
“Don’t you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“Well I’m hungry.”
She let out a shuddering sigh. “Okay,” she said. “Just a little bit.”
He smiled gleefully. “I love you, babe!” He released her neck, and slapped her ass as she stood up. “Bitch.”
She walked into the bedroom and returned with a shoebox, then sat down next to him and opened the lid. He watched hungrily as she took out a length of surgical tubing and tied it around her arm. Amber clenched and unclenched her fist, watching as the veins swelled in her forearm. “Just a little bit, babe.”
He nodded. “I know. Just a little.”
Amber took out a length of plastic tubing, terminating at one end with a needle. She made sure the plastic ratchet clamp was tightened on the tubing, sighed, swallowed, and slipped the needle into her vein.
She undid the tourniquet around her arm. Red flowed up the tube to the clamp and stopped. She took a length of tape and secured the needle in place, then put the other end of the hose into a simple drinking glass.
“Hurry up, babe.”
“Almost there, Terry.” She released the clamp. Red flowed and looped through the clear plastic hose, sputtering and pouring out into the glass. She watched the level carefully, her fingers hovering over the tube clamp.
At about two fingers, she reached for the clamp.
“Wait,” said Terry. He held her wrist. “Just a little more.”
“No, babe, it’s too much.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who fucking cares.”
“Babe…” She made to sit up, and he pinned her down with a hand around her throat. Careful not to disturb the hose, he straddled her, holding her down with his weight. She struggled and he held her fast. “Babe, please.”
He screwed his face up into a parody of hers, “Babe, please,” he whined.
The level of blood in the glass still rose.
Her eyes fluttered. Her skin grew pale and clammy. She tried to fight him, but could not. Tears flowed down her cheeks.
“You know what, I’m fucking sick of you.” The glass brimmed, and Terry took the hose and popped the bloody end into his mouth. “You know why I never bit you? It’s cause I wouldn’t want you to be a vampire. The thought of listening to you whine for eternity makes me want to fucking kill myself.”
“Say goodnight, bitch. I think you’ll be a better lay after you’re dead.”
Her fingers trembled and twitched.
A shotgun blast shattered the stillness of the summer night. The doorknob of the tiny house spun across the room and put a divot in the drywall. The cheap hollow core door, mortally wounded, twisted on its hinges.
The man in the white cowboy hat racked another shell into the shotgun as he kicked the remains of the door away. He wore a gaudy Hawaiian print shirt, unbuttoned, with a white tee shirt underneath. A Japanese sword hung at his waist. His eyes were dark as the shadow of a tombstone. He levelled the shotgun at Terry.
Terry spun Amber around as a shield and cowered behind her. She hung limply in his grip, her head lolling over his fist. “Who the fuck are you, man?”
“Boy, I’m the fucking grim reaper.”
Terry’s eyes danced around the room, searching for escape. “I’ll fucking kill her, I swear to God.”
“Looks to me like you already did.”
“Are you sure of that, asshole?”
“Seems she’d be dead either way. And really, what’s one more? See, I been lookin’ for you, boy. Been followin’ you since Taos. I know about all of them. Jessica. Sarah. Bethany. Rachel. In the big scheme of things, one more don’t matter to me. What matters to me is putting your punk vampire ass in the ground for good, and that’s gonna happen one way or another.”
“Then why don’t you just shoot through her, asshole?” Terry laughed, “Yeah, that’s what I though. You fucking pussy.”
Amber’s eyes fluttered open. She reached her hand around and seized the tube protruding from her arm. In one smooth motion, she ripped it free and jammed the needle, still spurting blood, into her lover’s eye.
Terry screamed and let go of her throat as he brought his hands to his face. She fell to the ground.
In an eyeblink, The vampire hunter fired. Terry’s head, from the nose up, ceased to exist. A red mess decorated the far wall. His body fell headlong over the couch, coming to rest at an obscene angle, legs dangling crazily in the air. Amber sunk to her knees and sobbed once.
“Easy there, little darlin’.” Alex drew his sword as he approached Terry. “It’s all over now. You best look away.”
She didn’t look away.
Alex Rains loves three things in this world: Rock and Roll music, fast cars, and killing vampires.
Carmen Carranza is a tough lady cop who’ll do whatever it takes to find her missing sister.
When their paths cross, they team up and leave a trail of corpses across the desert as they hunt an ancient evil preying on migrants in the American Southwest…
Hey you guys, I’m really excited to be offering a free preview of my upcoming thriller/horror novel The Devil’s Mouth, the first book of the Alex Rains, Vampire Hunter series. Right below, you’ll find download links for the first three chapters, and I’ll even throw in the prologue at no extra charge.
I’ve been polishing this particular turd to a glossy sheen for quite a while now, and I’m really happy to be able to start sharing it with the world. So please, download your free preview, enjoy, and tell me what you think!
The full version should be available on the Kindle store sometime in April.
Please note, these are quick-and-dirty home-brew ebook conversions, and I can’t guarantee that the formatting is perfect. Bear with me.
A little while ago I mentioned I’m working on a big project, and I guess there’s no reason to be so secretive about it. I’m just putting the finishing touches on a novel called THE DEVIL’S MOUTH, an action-horror-thriller starring the rockabilly vampire hunter Alex Rains. Just for the heck of it, I wrote up this little short story, (if it’s even that, I suppose it’s more accurately a vignette) to introduce you fine folks to my main character. So enjoy, and if you like it, please let me know.
Without further ado:
By Matt Kincade
The kid noticed a spot of dried blood on his jacket, and a bit more under his fingernails. He scratched the dark red flakes off the black leather, then pulled a switchblade from his jacket pocket and cleaned under his nails with the point of the blade. At that same moment headlights appeared, two white points on the desert horizon. He closed the knife and put it back in his pocket.
The night sky was ink-black, stippled with a thousand bright stars, a full moon painting the low desert hills in gray hues.
The car came closer, headlights illuminating an advancing blur of blacktop. Now the kid could hear the engine: the loud, throaty roar of a V8 with a four-barrel carb and a performance exhaust. The glow of the headlights reached him and the mesquite bushes he stood next to, casting his face into sharp contrast, throwing long shadows from the gravel at his feet. In the light his bleach-blonde hair was short and spiked, and his baby-face had a half-dozen piercings. A smear of dirt crossed his cheek. He stood up straight, smiled disarmingly, and put out his thumb. Continue reading