Evil Begets Eve-Il

By Andrew Howell

" Mystery, suspense, Eve-il, and diverse erotica flow through this presentation of intriguing short stories. Two detectives chase a serial killer through a sodden underworld of sexual depravity in EVE-IL.
Strange repercussions are at work for the crew of a large drilling rig offshore in Colombia as the result of the abhorrent actions of two crew members in a small town bring an ancient evil to the surface in RIG-WRAITHS.
Follow the actions of a young businessman and his kinky exploits with his "Girl Friend" in COLD ETHEL. Run with the Hound dogs in an off beat tale of life in the Ozark mountains of Arkansas during the late 1920's in YOU HAVE TO KEEP THE BLOODLINE STRONG.
Alien Conspiracy theories collide with an ominous religious televangelist for the story I TOLD YOU SO. These and other entertaining tales lurk within the heart of this short story collection....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Nov 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514441787

Andrew Howell

Andrew was born in the USA at 8500 feet elevation in the mountains of Colorado. Along with growing up as a Navy Brat in the USA, he has traveled the world as a construction professional living in Dubai, Abu Dhabi, KSA (Saudi Arabia) Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Chile, Peru, Greece, Iraq and Colombia. This broad exposure to Global cultures provides a colorful backdrop for many of his stories. He has been writing for more than 20 years and covers a variety of genera’s. In addition to “Get out of Denver & Scramble” He currently has three other books published. “Writers Write” was published in late summer 2014 and “Writer on the Storm” will be out in October 2014. His fourth book “The Night Rider” is due out near the end of the year. The sequel to Scramble “Armageddon with a six Iron” will be finished in early 2015. He continues to work full time as a Corporate Manager while adding to his existing inventory of literary work on a monthly basis.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Andrew Howell.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 11/12/2015

Xlibris

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Contents

Continued Conversation

Eve-Il

Cold Ethel

Rig Wraiths

Boyz To Men

You Need To Keep The Blood Line Strong

Queen Of The Fae

I Told You So

The Ending Of An Era

Writer Biography

DEDICATION

To Sir William and Neville. You guys always liked these diverse types of tales…

"Mystery, suspense, Eve-il, and diverse erotica flow through this presentation of intriguing short stories. Two detectives chase a serial killer through a sodden underworld of sexual depravity in EVE-IL.

Strange repercussions are at work for the crew of a large drilling rig offshore in Colombia as the result of the abhorrent actions of two crew members in a small town bring an ancient evil to the surface in RIG-WRAITHS.

Follow the actions of a young businessman and his kinky exploits with his Girl Friend in COLD ETHEL. Run with the Hound dogs in an off beat tale of life in the Ozark mountains of Arkansas during the late 1920’s in YOU HAVE TO KEEP THE BLOODLINE STRONG.

Alien Conspiracy theories collide with an ominous religious televangelist for the story I TOLD YOU SO. These and other entertaining tales lurk within the heart of this short story collection….

Continued Conversation

Hi,

In my first book Get out of Denver we had a conversation (well we did if you read the book) and I have received some good feedback from that style so I thought I would chat with you again.

This collection of short stories delves into areas that may be uncomfortable for many readers, in fact up until the last minute it was going to be published under a pseudonym.

I have written stories like these over the years, not sure really why, I guess I thought the storylines were unique and I sometimes add some of life’s horrors to remind everyone they are out there.

Could be I just have a twisted streak that has to get on paper…

Ernie Breaux and his wife Robin run an orphanage in Honduras for unwed mothers and abandoned babies. (WWW.ERINTERNATIONAL.ORG) Ernie is an ex US Marine. At 6'5, with his shaved head, Coonass crazy laugh and pushing 280 pounds he can be an ominous presence. When he is not building Rabbit cages or shooting Machine pistols in Honduras, He sometimes works as an Investigator with church’s to find teen age runaways or girls abducted by Coyote’s" in Miami and South America. He has shared with me some of the atrocities he has come across and believe me, real life is every bit as horrific as fiction.

For every copy of this book that sells, one dollar will go to support Ernie & Robin’s work in Honduras.

Chris Joyce said something once that keeps me in search of the unusual. He told the ICOCW group (Inner Circle Of Creative Writers) one night after a young upstart commented that one of his stories had already been done by the TV series South Park, he said Nearly everything has already been done and what the hell is South Park? While I did know what South Park was, I had never seen or heard of anything like Chris’s story line so I am sure others might not have either. My point is I think you find my stories here original, possibly depraved and decadent but definitely original.

The short stories contained in EVIL BEGETS EVE-IL deal with women & men, evil, mystery, twisted synapses, fantasy, and intrigue. Not Apple pie and mom stuff for sure.

In the end, my Daughter Jennifer (She had not read this book yet but we talked at length about it) said some thing that steered me towards publishing this book in my name vs ghost writer. She said if you went to all that work to write it, then all the work to publish it, you should get the credit for it, even be proud of it. If people don’t want to read it. They don’t have too…

My concern was that I did not want to embarrass my children or family or put them in uncomfortable situations. When I talked to my sons about this they put that concern in perspective right away. In my best paternal mode I approached my son Morgan and asked him about my writing possibly being embarrassing for him or his brothers. He was playing some online game on the computer at the time and in between groups & kills he said. It’s way too late to worry about embarrassing us dad, we were there at the Jack-In-Box incident remember? My son Jarod was seated next to him playing some other online game listening to the discussion and his unsolicited response was Nobody is going to buy the book anyway dad so don’t worry about it. If you’re really worried about embarrassing us then don’t dance at our weddings and stay away from Jack-in-the-Box

Stephen King wanted to remain anonymous for some of his early work. Perhaps he was confident he was going to become an Icon in the writing world so he wrote the Running Man under the name Rob Bachman. I honestly don’t know why he chose to go Ghost. Perhaps back in the day THE RUNNING MAN may have skirted the edges of literary paths he wished to tread privately, maybe his publicist recommend it, who knows. I don’t think it was for discretionary purposes because he wrote Survivor type and The Library Policeman under the auspice of Stephen King. Both of those are outstanding stories, but certainly not anywhere near Apple Pie and mom. The Gunslinger has sold a few books since THE RUNNING MAN. He was connected to the Bachman books and they were re-released with the world knowing it was the Good Mr. King at the helm of Bachman’s big WANG …(The old King readers, the ones from 30 years ago, will get that..!)

Everything that you publish can come to light even if you use a pseudonym so if you publish it you might as well claim it.

I guess that’s why I published it under my name.

As always I look forward to your thoughts and comments.

www.andrewhowellauthor.com

Eve-Il

The woman tossed her long black hair, letting it hang down the full length of her back as she zipped up the custom made black leather motorcycle jacket. Her hair was lush and silky, melding into the night stars in a seductive symphony of eroticism. She wore matching skin tight black leather jeans fringed in silver half-moons and knee high riding boots.

She was stunning in appearance, truly a thoroughbred. She had a tall and athletic build, with long legs. Her ass and muscular thighs were accentuated by the skin tight leather pants. The night was cool and her breathing formed an erotic vapor of heat that circulated around her incredibly beautiful face. The Jacket was of a unique design, stretch tight, swirling with mystical dark leather symbols embroidered on the arms. A white tree entwined with a serpent was emblazoned on the back. The cut of the leather was sleek, revealing succulent arching breasts and nipples that penetrated the soft leather of the very expensive Jacket.

She donned an all-black helmet and slid onto the back of the Ducati 950, also all black. She started the bike and slowly pulled her crotch tight against the seat and leaned forward, grazing the dark steel of the handle bars with her nipples, making them stand out even more firmly.

Revving the engine she dropped the clutch and the front tire of the 950 leaped into the air pushing back hard against her mound. Her feet planted firmly on the pavement, she somehow held the awesome power of the Ducati in check, front tire high in the air like a raring stallion, the back tire spinning & smoking wildly. She began grinding against the bike, arching her hips and rubbing the seat with her crotch, her ass tight with each thrust.

Lifting her feet from the pavement the 950 screamed free and shot forward, like a rocket into the night, the roar of the engine RPM’s resonating with each shifting of the gears. The license plate on the back, barely readable due to the speed of the departing bike, said EVE.

The smoke from the burning back tire began to clear from the street and somewhere the song Do you want crying by Katrina and the Waves could be heard playing as the roaring of the 950 faded rapidly into the night.

*     *     *

Across the city the moon rose full.

The night was cool and she was just ending her shift as a waitress at the rundown diner near mid-town. It did not pay great but the tips were ok and it kept her parole officer off her back which was a huge deal. Besides that, she had a couple of other ways to supplement her income.

She was very pretty. Her face was gorgeous. Along with brown hair and a killer smile, she had a petite slim body with nice pert breasts. Her cute ass was total Johnny Lang Lil School Girl and she oozed innocence, something of which she could not now, nor ever again, claim.

She had been released from jail 5 months earlier, serving time on a bull shit charge, having been set up by her lousy Ex- Boyfriend. They had been at a big party one night that got raided by the cops. Sleazy Ex Boy had hidden an 8 ball of Coke in her purse without telling her. The cops busted her for possession and she was sentenced to one year in county. She had been released after six months for good behavior. Yeah, good behavior they called it. It was more like good blow jobs to the warden and chief guards.

In her first month inside many of her nights ended in a gang rape by 2-3 of the guards. She didn’t mind the forced sex so much. She even came the first time she was being fucked in her pussy and the ass at the same time. It was the continuous beatings that she hated… and the men, she hated the men. She hated them for the beatings. She hated them for making her come. She hated their leering smiles as they watched each other fuck her. She hated their greedy groaning as they climaxed. She hated men…

Things got better after she met Flo’ and Angel.

That was when she got her first taste of pussy and she loved it. The smell of it, the wetness the taste, loved it all.

She loved women, hated men.

Flo and Angel were lovers and the queen bitches of her prison wing.

Flo’ really liked the Lil School Girl, liked the way she tasted, liked the way she licked Pussy, liked to watch her and Angel fuck each other, Yeah she liked her a lot.

Flo’ had some stroke with the Warden so things got better quick. No more rapes, no more beatings, only good behavior a couple of times a week.

Flo’ was an Amazon. She had ebony skin, nearly 6' tall and built solid. Size 42 double D breasts, rock hard ass & abs and was just one bad bitch, no muzzle. They called her Flo because she looked like a psychotic version of Florence Griffith Joiner the Olympian.

Flo served 2 years in the marines before she was discharged after a failed Psych evaluation.

She was inside for murdering her husband and two crack whores she caught him fucking. She broke his neck and cut off his cock and shoved it down his throat. Then she grabbed one of the whores and stuffed the crack bong up her cunt while she choked her to death.

She stuck a shiv in the last strung out bitch who was so high on crack she could not even get up to run away… Triple murder, in for life, and just released to normal prison in the last 6 months (Psych discharge remember?)

Angel was…well, an absolute Angel. She was Latina, part Mexican, part Venezuelan and who knows what else. What was obvious is that she was as hot as they come. About 5' 8" tall, smooth skin, and luscious breasts, she was built perfectly with long legs and a Latina ass that would put anyone to shame. She could shake that ass and dance like no other woman. Her face and eyes were captivating and exuded sexuality. She was exquisite as a stripper and could often make $4000-$5000 dollars a night in the upscale strip bars. She had a Mercedes and a Corvette bought by ardent male admirers. Angel was one hot lady for sure and her life was very good, well at least it was before she got busted with a Kilo of Crystal Meth.

Angel turned state’s evidence on the dealers, that, and along with fucking her creepy lawyer got her a two year sentence.

The Lil school girl continued walking, past the Porn shops, the strip bars, past the dealers. She watched the six hookers standing on the corner trying to get johns for $ 50 BJ’s in the back seat of their cars. Stupid, she thought, although the little one was pretty hot, she would do her if she was clean.

She opened the door of the XXX peep show parlor called Charlie’s Place and went inside.

Which booth tonight Charlie? she asked Six replied the old man God not again? Said School girl. That one stinks of piss and has cum stains all over the window. How about 8 or 10? Are they free?

How long you staying tonight? said Charlie

All night if it’s a good crowd. No customers and I am out of here in an hour

Ok Doll face you can have 10. Oh yeah, your number isn’t up on the Red board anymore. I think that lil bitch Julie marked it out again. You will need to put it back up if you want any action

Thanks Charlie School girl said. She had been wondering why she had not been getting any calls lately.

She went into booth 10 and locked the door. She selected some lingerie from her bag, nice white and pink panties, matching top….uhmmm she looked sweet & tasty. She put her hair up in a ponytail fashion and then opened the cover to her peep show booth.

The first man of the night entered and paid his $20 for the first 3 minutes. He should be worth at least $100 thought school girl as she saw him staring at her and the bulge in his pants. She slid her hand under her panties and arched her back, touching herself softly, closing her eyes with a sultry moan and began her exotic show.

As far as peep show galleries went this was one of the cleaner ones. It had a good location next to the business district and most of the clients were attorneys, businessmen, or executives who had been out drinking and wanted their Private Dancer. They would come in and whack off watching the girls do themselves. School girl enjoyed teasing the frustrated men and could usually stretch most shows for $100 bucks fairly easy.

Unfortunately you did also get the real sick bastards, like the guy who cut his arm with a Razor while whacking off. Splashed blood on the window, Charlie called the cops on him.

Or there was the guy who brought the fake pussy in to fuck while he watched the girls. Just go get a crack whore and pay the $50 for a BJ for fuck sake. It probable cost less than that vibrating fake pussy he was pounding.

Then there was the guy who would shove a woman’s perfume bottle up his ass and jerk off. He paid $200 every time though.

Yeah helluva way to make a buck thought school girl. But she never forgot the men. And she hated them all.

Four hours