Archive for the ‘Book Project’ Category

As some of you may or may not know, my brother and I co-created an author and a 100-book saga. Debuting in Jan. 2013 from author Darrell Scott comes a 5 year journey of lies, deceit, conviction, and realization as they not only discover the truth of their erased lives but the future fallout of mankind’s own future: BLOODLINES!

Please enjoy Chapter 1 of BLOODLINES #1: Land of Confusion.


“I’m going to rip your heart out…,”

Beaten beyond recognition. Battered to the point of death. Both swollen eyes, looking like pink and purple kiwis, seeped of puss and bright red blood. The nose was smashed into the face by a force stronger than any one man can physically do with a mere fist. Some teeth were missing, others were bent inward. Where the lips and cheeks were a smeared black and blue and drizzled in blood from the caved in nose. The mouth of the man was gaped open as if he was trying to inhale every breath of precious life he could; hard exhausted breath as if he just ran twenty miles before having the identity beaten off him.

Kalub Johnson stood toe to toe and chest to chest with the physically disfigured man, looking down at his victim’s face. Somehow, in his head, Kalub heard the world ‘victim’.

“Victim? VICTIM?! Oh No! No, No, NO! VICTIM’S don’t DESERVE the punishments that they are FORCED to ENDURE! YOU…,” his uproar lowered to a diabolical whisper, “…you, you fuck, Are…No…Victim!”

Kalub’s left fist was wound in the other man’s shirt so tightly, the skin on his knuckles tore open like a banana peel being bent too far. The thought of the other man as a ‘victim’ only enraged further. Kalub’s right hand had every shade of every color in the rainbow except for green from bruises, lacerations, and a smeared mixture of the other man’s blood and Kalub’s own blood mixed together.

Kalub felt no pain. Instead, he felt powerful and fueled with a rage that he never knew existed. Without looking away from the man’s face, Kalub blindly reached over to his right and he felt something metal in his hands. With his mind’s thought, he felt the metal was brittle and flakey, but solid. And thin.


Kalub brought the flat strip of rusted metal to his view and saw the wedge of iron in his hand. It was scrap piece of metal dis-formed triangular shape with rigid edges, looking obviously cut from a blow torch. With impressive speed, Kalub released his grip on the shirt and ignored the burning pain in his bleeding knuckles as he quickly reached up and grabbed the man’s lower jaw. His four fingers were wrapped over the bottom teeth of the man as his thumb was along the jaw.

Shoving the jagged metal into the man’s mouth, Kalub began to use the scorched ripped edges of the metal wedge and violently sawed into the man’s cheeks. The force of Kalub’s cuts were beyond vigorous as he pulled the man’s jaw side to side just as hard as the metal tore into the flesh of his mouth, like a person trying to cut a turkey in half starting with the ass end first with a hacksaw. Screams from the depths of Hell arose from the man’s throat as his mouth gapped open wider and as he screamed, the metals rigid side ripped into his tongue.

Kalub released his lower jaw and quickly grabbed a hard handful of the man’s hair, bending his head all the way back as he threw the metal scrap wedge behind him. His head folded back all the way like a step-pedal trashcan lid. The bottom jaw of the man seemed to flop downward like a broken tailgate.

“Let’s see if you like being FINGERED AND VIOLATED!”

Kalub yanked back harder on the man’s hair, gapping the man’s mouth open so far he could swallow a football, rose his right hand, and shoved it directly down the man’s throat. He felt the jaw bone on his right knuckle as it made contact, slightly gouging the already exposed wound.  As the walls of the man’s throat enclosed around Kalub’s hand, he positioned all of his fingers together like the top of a spear, and shoved his hand deeper down into the esophagus.

Kalub released his hair and grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling up on it as a driving force to shove his right hand down further into the man’s throat, like toddler shoving its entire arm into the top hole of a jack-o-lantern. The horrific screams of the man were gargled and gagged as Kalub’s forearm caused the man’s Adam’s Apple to lodge from its appropriate place. It seemed to want to burst through the skin.

“When I Said I Was Gonna Rip Your Heart Out, I MEANT IT!”

With this verbal threat, Kalub pulled up on the back of the shirt again and drove his hand, his wrist, and his forearm deeper into the man’s neck. The man’s eyes were bulging from their sockets, looking like sunny side-up egg yolks ready to pop. The man’s legs and life gave out from under him and Kalub allowed the now dead man to descend to the floor, letting his arm exit the torn throat with a handful of fresh flesh as he fell. A sprung leak of fresh red blood, a green chunky mixture, and an unknown purple fluid escaped out the mouth of the corpse as Kalub stood over his victim, clenching the flesh in his hand.

Book #1

Book #1

Discover more about Darrell Scott on FACEBOOK and on their WEBSITE (Write us anytime, we’d love to hear from you!)


I began this blog, originally titled MY JOURNEY ON HOW I BECAME PUBLISHED IN PRINT, just over a year ago, without a clue on what I was doing as a blogger. (Truth be told, I still don’t quite get it. That is unless a blog is a journal that is for the world to see, then I sort of get the concept. But even then, 19 posts in only 15 months? Yup, Exactly! Why? Honestly, I don’t have that much to say!) Anyway, I stayed dedicated and wrote this quote in my 1st blog posting:

“…Well, today is August 15th, 2011. I’m giving myself 1 year to get just one of my books in print in my hands. I’m re-editing all my work. Re-thinking all my ideas. Starting from scratch without drastically re-writing anything I’ve written so far…”

It’s been over a year, and no, I have not been published in print where I can hold it in my hands. It wasn’t until recently I’ve realized being in print where I can hold it in my hands wasn’t exactly what I really wanted. I wanted and still want, as every author does, is it just TO BE read!

So, I winged the idea of blogging, just to get my feet wet, so to speak. Then I realized the title didn’t work, because…well…writing isn’t a daily exciting drama filled experience that has a new adventure to share on a daily basis! It’s more like, “Okay, today I wrote 10 pages.” The next day, “I wrote 2 pages and checked my Facebook.” And the next day, “I wrote 4 pages and watched my 3 shows on the DVR.” The following day, “I didn’t write anything because of a headache.” Four days pass, and still nothing gets written until the fifth day and you’d blog, “Today I felt guilty and busted out 20 pages to make up for lost time. But 15 of those pages I’m probably going to pitch because I don’t think they’ll work. Damn whiskey…..”

Truth be told, this is usually the way it goes for writers who have kids, bills, a spouse, pets, and/or a full time-pain in the ass-work til you puke-next to nothing paying-overtime inconveniencing-dead end-9 to 5-job to support your life! (This being MY case.) So I went back through the blog postings I’ve written and realized that I write a blog post when I have something to say; whether it be advice on writing, help for other authors, jokes/comical concepts, and/or simple updates that I have to announce.

Therefore, MY JOURNEY ON HOW I BECAME PUBLISHED IN PRINT has been changed to WHEN THE INSPIRATION HITS because as a writer, this is how I function: I write when the time is right and when I’m hit by inspiration! For some goofy reason, I have a big hunch that I’m not alone in this concept!

Til Next Time,



Posted: August 12, 2012 in Book Project, Writing

Yes, it’s happening again and 1 week into the project, I have 6 Twitter followers who have already entered a plot for me to write a flash fiction story for them! And for the world to read for FREE!

Wait, what? What am I talking about?! You don’t know? What the hell is RESTRICTED AREA 2? Well, let me explain, fellow reader!

RESTRICTED AREA is my book collection of flash fiction short stories. Flash fiction stories (aka super short stories) are original stories that have a word count of 2000 words or less. Micro flash fiction are stories that are 500 words or less. Each flash fiction story plot comes from one of my real Twitter followers and I write the story for them, posting up the story for FREE for the world to read & enjoy on (FREE, that is, until the finished book is released on

This is an edited blog posting about my first RESTRICTED AREA project on 12-1-2012:

I wanted to do a project for a long time coming that was a true challenge to my writing ability. But challenging yourself is a lot like disciplining yourself: there is too much grey area to fail. I did a contest of and participated in a restricted word count short story contest about a very vague plot that was provided for you. I had 300 words to write about a woman who found something of great importance in her glove box. I Had A Ball With This Contest! It was the challenge I was looking for. I didn’t place in the top 10, but I truly didn’t mind: I had my new concept to be challenged.

I sent invites to every single one of my Twitter followers and my Facebook followers. The invite had the title of the book: RESTRICTED AREA and a link (which is provided below) to the sight where the guidelines are. I wanted fresh new original concepts from everyday people and a word count of their own; and I would have to write a short story based off their short story plot and using only their word count. Their plot & @Twittername, would be in the book, too, to where readers can find them and Follow them, too. For me to write a story from their plot not only helps me better my writing but I have the change to make their creative idea a fully created story come to life.

The concept of RESTRICTED AREA has one basic theme: restriction. The “restriction” folds in many different ways. The person sending me the plot can only use 1 Tweet, restricting them to 140 characters to tell their plot. I am restricted as a writer to only use their restricted word count. Each plot I have to write, regardless of what the plot is, has to have a sense of a restriction; via a place, or an addiction, or a hesitation, or a feeling, or a moral. Everyone and everything in or about this novel is all based on some kind of restriction. Hence: RESTRICTED AREA.

This is the link to RESTRICTED AREA: (The finished product contains a ton of extras including all 10 flash fiction stories, the story, a short story that I had written that I mused as an online contest for ALL online readers to enter a title for the story, all traffic, each Twitter follower, all their plots-comments-postings, and a very generous blog post from fellow Twitter friend and The Walking Dead fanatic: Alexis Jenny @lexisjen via Twitter.)

There is no deadline to submit a plot but I do have just a few “restrictions” (LOL) when submitting. 1) One submittion per Twitter follower. If you have more than one account, then you can submit again using your other account 2) The plot must be in 1 DM (Direct Message) Tweet only. 3) The word count limit must be between 200 and 1000 words, in 50 intrivals. (200, 250, 300…900, 950, 1000) Send me your plot via Direct Message on Twitter: @Jason_D_Bryant

If you would like to have a flash fiction story written for you or have any other question, feel free at any time via Twitter! I’d love to hear from you!

Til next time…