Author Guest Post with Robert Creekmore: Prophet’s Death

Death-cult leader Joseph Proffit has met his end! Along with him perishes the secret method for manufacturing indigo, the substance that imbued him with godlike abilities.

Welcome to the July 19th stop on the blog tour for Prophet’s Death by Robert Creekmore with Goddess Fish Promotions. Be sure to follow the rest of the tour for excerpt spotlights, more guest posts, reviews, and a giveaway! More on that at the end of this post.

Please note that this post contains affiliate links, which means there is no additional cost to you if you shop using my links, but I will earn a small percentage in commission. A program-specific disclaimer is at the bottom of this post.

Author Guest Post

Pros and Cons of Writing in Your Genre

            I suppose to answer that question, I’d have to answer in what genres do I write? I could be coy and pretend that I’m above it all -that no one genre could encapsulate me. Though, I believe that could be said for most authors. But let’s face it, I like writing shit where people get murdered and brutalized in medieval ways.

            I reckon that’s horror. But there’s also southern gothic noir in there as well. Winnowing structures, lost to the modern world permeate my work. An abandoned offshore platform, secret caverns, and deep hollers of the Southern Appalachians are woven within my universe.

And, many of my characters are queer, both protagonists and antagonists. Perhaps then, it’s LGBTQIA+ as well?

For me, all this means is that the gloves are off. I’m allowed to write for a less squeamish audience who are ecstatic to see child rapists get their balls snatched off with braided fishing lines. That are unbothered that I humanize persons struggling with substance issues. Or put all consensual adult sexual relationships on equal footing.

While that’s unlikely to get my book sold at the local supermarket, I’d like to believe that there is an audience out there who feels like my work is personal to them. That I’m saying things they wish more would. And maybe more will because I do. 

If you’re reading this and have the desire to one day see your book in the grocery aisle, by all means, go for it. There’s nothing wrong with that. I simply cannot be bothered with the constraints.

It’s at this point that I feel as though I’m obligated to list the cons of writing in Queer Southern Gothic Noir Horror.

…

Okay, after considering this for a while, I can only liken it to asking someone to describe the cons of eating their favorite ice cream. I just can’t do it.

So, I’ll keep eating cookie dough ice cream as long as creameries keep making it and hope that y’all will continue to read about the murders I put on the page. That way, we can both be happy.

About the Book

Prophet’s Death
by Robert Creekmore

Published 2 July 2024
Cinnabar Moth Publishing LLC

Genre: Southern Noir
Page Count: 344
Add it to your Goodreads TBR!

Death-cult leader Joseph Proffit has met his end! Along with him perishes the secret method for manufacturing indigo, the substance that imbued him with godlike abilities.

To the dismay of Naomi’s family, she succumbed to the injuries Joseph dealt her during their final battle atop the abandoned Coast Guard station, Frying Pan Tower, thirty miles off the North Carolina coast.

Both of their bodies were lost at sea when the one-hundred-foot-tall structure crumbled during Tropical Storm Gabriel.

Naomi’s beloved companions escaped aboard her dive boat, along with Joseph’s final victim, who is on the verge of death.

In the aftermath, Naomi’s family has no choice but to rebuild their lives in hiding, fearing reprisal from the handful of remaining Apostle loyalists.

Soon, their secret, dormant conflict will be thrust onto the world stage by a wealthy benefactor who funnels his personal hatred and unfounded grievances into throngs of ignorant followers.

Is this the end of Naomi’s family? Without her, how will they survive?

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Excerpt

He guides the boat between the two wooden bunks of the boat lift. Nate fights his way onto the dock through the sheets of rain blasting sideways into his face. He activates the hydraulics. The lift pulls the boat out of the water and level with the dock.

The three of them drag Malcolm off the boat before Nate lifts it higher to avoid the rising water.

Exhausted after moving Malcolm from the dock to the side door, the three can go no further and lie him on his side atop the sofa in front of the picture window.

“We have to call home,” Nate says.

“Telling someone that their spouse is dead isn’t something you do over the phone,” Herschel replies.

“More urgently,” Rebecca interjects, “we have to get electrolytes into Malcolm. He drank plenty of water before passing out, so he’s not in imminent danger of thirsting to death. To regain some level of consciousness, we need to get something like Pedialyte in him.

But, no stores will be open in this storm.” “Would powdered Gatorade work?” Nate asks.

“Yeah,” she responds.

Nate gets up and begins rummaging through Naomi’s kitchen junk drawer. He excavates an old plastic container, half-filled with clumpy orange Gatorade powder. Nate mixes up a batch inside a large plastic cup with a flexible straw. Malcolm mumbles and occasionally opens his eyes. When he does, they encourage him to drink. Within the hour, he’s holding the cup himself. His eyes begin to regain life. He looks around, saying, “Where is the other woman?” “She didn’t make it,” Rebecca answers.

A wave of melancholy washes across his exhausted face.

“The sooner we leave, the better,” Nate says.

“Will he make the week-long boat trip back to Northern Virginia?” Rebecca asks.

“No. That’s why I’m going to take Tiffany’s Corolla.”

“They’ll follow you,” Herschel says to Nate.

About the Author

Robert Creekmore is from a rural farming community in Eastern North Carolina.

He attended North Carolina State where he studied psychology. While at university, he was active at the student radio station. There, he fell in love with punk rock and its ethos.

Robert acquired several teaching licenses in special education. He was an autism specialist in Raleigh for eight years. He then taught for four years in a small mountain community in western North Carolina.

During his time in the mountains, he lived with his wife Juliana in a remote primitive cabin built in 1875. While there, he grew most of his own food, raised chickens, worked on a cattle farm, as well as participated in subsistence hunting and fishing.

Eventually, the couple moved back to the small farming community where Robert was raised.

Robert’s first novel Afiri, is a science fiction love letter to his childhood hero Carl Sagan. It was nominated for a Manly Wade Wellman award in 2016.

Robert’s second novel is the first in a trilogy of books. Annoyed with the stereotype of the southeastern United States as a monolith of ignorance and hatred, he wanted to bring forth characters from the region who are queer and autistic. They now hold up a disinfecting light to the hatred of the region’s past and to those who still yearn for a return to ways and ideas that should have long ago perished.

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Giveaway Alert!

Robert Creekmore will award a randomly drawn winner a $10 Amazon/BN gift card.

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