Cover Reveal and Excerpt courtesy of Sourcefire Books!
The vampire, whose fangs were too big for his mouth, turned to the camera and hissed.
"Don't look at the camera," said Justin Hollow, the director.
"I
keep poking my lip on these things," said Harold, spitting the plastic
fangs out onto the ground. He hadn't been a very frightening example of
the undead before, and he was even less scary with no fangs and a thick
line of drool running down his chin.
"Cut!" shouted Justin, loud
enough to be sure that the command was heard by his production crew of
two. "C'mon, Harold. Stay in character. We're three hours behind
schedule."
"I don't care. I hate this. You promised that I'd get all the girls I wanted. So where are all of the girls I want?"
Justin let out his thirty-ninth exasperated sigh of the night. "The movie has to come out first."
"It's not even a real movie."
Justin
bristled. It was a full body bristle, head to toe, which he hadn't even
realized was physically possible. Bobby, who handled sound recording,
and Gabe, who handled everything else, both stepped back a couple of
feet. Neither of them truly believed that they were about to witness a
murder, but they wanted to get out of the splash zone, just in case.
Had
this been one of Justin's movies, he would have very slowly lowered his
camera, stared directly into Harold's eyes with a steel gaze, and then
after an extremely dramatic pause asked "What...did...you...just...say?"
His actual response, delivered in a squeakier voice than he would have allowed from his actors, was: "Huh?"
"I
said it's not a real movie." Harold started to wipe the fake blood off
his mouth. It didn't come off, and probably wouldn't for several days.
Justin had planned to feel guilty about this later, but now he wouldn't
bother. "Nobody's ever going to see it. You probably won't even finish
it."
"I finished my last three movies!" Justin insisted. "I got hundreds of hits on YouTube!"
That
statement was technically accurate, though it was the lowest possible
number of hits you could get and still use "hundred" in its plural form.
The only comment anybody posted about his latest film had been "This
twelve year-old filmmaker sort of shows promise," which really
frustrated Justin since he was fifteen.
Harold shrugged. "This is a waste of time. I've got better things to do on a Friday night."
"Nobody
ever said this was going to be easy," said Justin, who had indeed said
that it was going to be easy when luring Harold into the role. "You can
quit now, but what are you going to think about your decision ten years from now?"
"I'm going to think, wow, it sure is nice to be such a well-paid dentist."
Harold
walked off the set. It wasn't an actual set, but rather a small park
near Justin's home, where they were filming without a permit. Justin
knew he should shout something after his ex-actor. Something vicious.
Something devastating. He thought about shouting "You'll never work in
this town again!" but, no, it had to be something that Harold would
consider a bad thing.
"Fine!" Justin shouted. "But when we record
the audio commentary track for the Blu-Ray, I'm going to talk about how
you abandoned us, and how much happier everybody was with the new actor
who took your role, and how we all agreed that he should have been cast
in the first place, and how he had so many girlfriends that he couldn't
even keep track of them, and how they all found out about each other and
had a great big awesome catfight in his front yard! And I'll pronounce
your name wrong!"
Harold continued walking, apparently not heartbroken.
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