I am still working on formatting The Peanut Buttor Tweatment for Kindle. I think I made a breakthrough. :) *Fingers crossed* My main issue has been getting the pictures and words to stay on the same page when converted to Kindle format. But, I have done some research and hopefully it will be available for Kindle soon.
Now, both "Operation Onion" and "Ally Ally Oxen Free" are available on and Kindle and Smashwords. Smashwords offers the short stories in several formats including Kindle, Epub, PDF, and other formats for online reading.
I am still working on two projects.
Attach of the Dust Bunnies - if all goes well- will be released by the end of October.
Remain Calm is a novelette Ebook. It is a comedy based on the idea that the insane never question their sanity. If everything stays on track, it will be available in print, on Kindle and Smashwords by mid November.
I've added a small excerpt below.
Solitary confinement—a padded room with a little window at the top of a three-inch thick door. Nothing to do but write on this paper with a crayon, because they can’t trust a crazy person like me with a pencil. Who knows what I might write if I had a real pencil. My genius intimidates them all. I don’t belong here, and I’m not just talking about this room; I shouldn’t be in here with all these loonies.
You wouldn’t believe the people I tolerate in this place. The most annoying is Mumbles. It’s not his real name. I assigned it to him after spending each and every night trying to make out what he was saying. He ‘s always talking, his lips always moving, but the sounds are incomprehensible. I can’t stand not knowing what someone is saying. What if he’s talking about me and everyone else can understand him. Then, they all laugh at me behind my back. I know how secret languages work.
The other person I have deal with is Mothman. Another name assigned by myself. You should see this guy running toward light, burning his face when it touches the hot bulbs, and letting out that horrible screeching sound. Moths don’t screech, I know, but they do tend to migrate toward light. Hence, the name.
Both of these men are pawns in the institution’s game of chess with me. And now, they’ve succeeded—check mate. I have no moves left. I will never get out of here.
How did they use their pawns to make such a clever move?