Teasers - Find Some Nevets To Read

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Tonight, when I'm not studying for EMT exams, I'll be working hard on my submission, "Terminal Instar," which will be published in the up-coming anthology Notes from Underground, published by the Literary Lab.  In honor of that, I thought it would be a good opportunity to whet your appetites for psychological suspense and literary fiction, as processed through the Nevets filter.  Here are some teasers of things you can read now, without waiting for my novel



From, "Terminal Instar," by C. N. Nevets (c) 2010
To be published in Notes from Underground

You know the invisible hand of capitalism? Yeah, that's me. I mean, it must be. These hands move a lot of money in the course of the day and I don't think one person notices me. My own mother bought a Redbook and a bottle of Snapple from me the other day and didn’t say Hi.

From, "I Need This," by C. N. Nevets (c) 2010

Available on www.Nevets-QST.com.

There better fuckin’ be such a thing as writer’s amnesty, because, if not, I’m not going down alone.  I’m not too proud to name names and finger accomplices.  Yeah, I’m makin’ my own point, but it’s not because I want to.  I just can’t afford not to.  Y’all might understand, but the Man won’t.  The Man never does.  And when the Man comes to whip me behind the shed, I’m damn well not going to be the only one who can’t sit for a week. 

From, "The Best Medicine," by C. N. Nevets (c) 2010

Available in the anthology Genre Wars

For two weeks now, I’ve been trying to figure out if people are laughing with me or at me.  It has been my obsession since I first noticed it.  The snickers.  The cackles.  The guffaws.  The belly-aching, side-slapping, tear-inducing laughter.    I finally found out.  Now, I just have to figure out if I’m brave enough to ram this shotgun down my own throat.

From, "Death, Be Not Me," by C. N. Nevets (c) 2010

Available in the anthology Genre Wars

It’s universal, and it’s inevitable.  When you’re gloves-deep in the case-numbered, putrid brown slime that used to be a loving wife and mother of two, your face itches.  Your eyes.  Your nose.   Your cheek.  The corner of your mouth.

Flash Fiction: "Christmas in Bonn," by C. N. Nevets (c) 2009

Originally presented at Flashy Fiction.   Other Flash Fiction available at www.Nevets-QST.com.

What I remember loving the most about Bonn, when I was there as teenage boy twenty years ago, was the market place. What could be better than walking around an open air courtyard and having the chance to buy fresh fruit, fresh meat, or freshly made crafts? For a kid from the American rust belt, it was like nothing I'd ever seen. 

When Christmas time rolled around it was even more magical. Lights everywhere. Candles all over the place. Lanterns. Incense intermingling with the aromas of roasting chestnuts and grilling bratwurst, given the special accent of plenty of beer. 

I remember December 22, 1986 better than any other day in my life. It was about seven in the evening when my family and I stepped out of our rented Golf and walked to the Bonn market. There was a light dusting of snow on everything, and the air was thick with winter.

It was as if the Christmas spirit had become a material reality. Hope, joy, and good will were everywhere. Under canopies of real garland and berries, Euro-punks with blue mohawks walked side by side with New Wave German businessmen and middle aged fraus in from the countryside. And I was getting to be part of it.

But that was also the night that the Dragon came back for his revenge.

.Nevets.