War erupts between the living and the dead in this unholy romp pitting a ragtag band of misfits against a new breed of vampire. These creatures of the night aren't dapper fiends seducing lovestruck damsels, they are soulless monsters that thrive on carnage and prey on the innocent. Sex, drugs, and violence reign supreme in this gruesome struggle where nothing is sacred and everyone is fair game.
Sink your teeth into Trailer Park Trash & Vampires, a depraved plunge into pure mayhem laced with dark humor and drenched in blood.
. . . . .
When I set out to write this book, I had two goals in mind. First, I wanted to do something new and different with vampires, and given the popularity of this sub-genre, that was a tall order. However, I think I succeeded. My vampires aren't bothered by crosses or garlic, they don't turn into bats, they don't sleep in coffins, and they may not dig the sun, but they can endure it. They don't even have fangs. By placing them in a trailer park and showing these fiendish creatures struggling to survive in our modern world, I think I was able to present a different side of these terrors, and I actually feel that their vulnerability makes them even more unpredictable and dangerous.Secondly, I wanted to have a huge climax. Who doesn't? Seriously, nothing is more disappointing than a gripping tale with a lackluster finish, and I wanted to offer up an explosive conclusion in TPT&V. The end result was a saga that simmers, slowly building momentum until boiling over in a bloody battle that encompasses the last third of the book.
Currently, the book has a 5 star rating on Amazon courtesy of 15 reviews. Here are a few choice excerpts from those reviews:
"If you are looking for the glitzy hollywood-pretty vampires, which politely and quietly feed and sip upon the high society of Europe, and then delicately wipe their lips with a lacey wet-nap and break for tea and biscuits to discuss Faulkner --- look elsewhere."
-Mal Rorrer
"What Mr. Wayland has done here is to portray vampires the way I believe they should be portrayed, violent and animalistic. These vampires don't sparkle in the sunlight, they rip your throat out and laugh about it as you bleed to death. The human characters in this story are no less entertaining that their inhuman counter parts. The collection of outcasts thrown together in this trailer park are all unique in their own way and each of them contributes something to the story (even if it's nothing more than acting as a vampire happy meal.)"
-Brandon Bowles
"Mr. Wayland has done away with the aristocratic bloodsuckers of Eastern Europe and replaced them with gritty, primal, and at times surprisingly human monsters. The author not only reinvents the vampire genre, but also creates characters that are powerful and easily related to. Readers will quickly forge bonds with the blue collar residents of Little Drop and their satanic assailants. Black humor abounds in this highly imaginative and blood-soaked romp through Anywhere, USA. If you are tired of the same old one-dimensional rehashed horror clichés then I strongly suggest you pick up a copy of this book."
-Erin Sprinkle
"Think Pulp Fiction meets the Evil Dead Trilogy. There's plenty of action, insanity, and, of course, sex to keep any hot-blooded reader (vampire or human) hooked."
-William Brust
Additionally, I always envisioned releasing TPT&V as an illustrated novel, and I was able to partner with Chris Visions, an amazing talent, toward that end. Here's one of the spectacular pieces of grisly artwork he provided for this edition:
Lastly, I didn't think this blog would be complete without an excerpt, so here's one of my favorite sequences from the novel. This is the second chapter from the big finale, Part Four: Come Hell to Earth. Here, our hero, Lennie Prescott, a drunk who was once a hell of a basketball player, is under attack. Vlad, the oldest and most powerful of my vampires, has declared war on the people of Ryker's Trailer Park, and he's looking to kick his campaign off by taking Lennie's head. Lennie has other ideas . . .
chapter 2: war
1
Lennie Prescott found himself dancing with the devil in
the eye of the hurricane.
The rain was pounding down in swirling sheets, stirred by
the gusting winds. The nightmare ride
that had started back when the strangers took the trailer on Lot 9 had reached
a fearsome crescendo.
The big vampire was after him and it
was on as it had never been on before. Prescott
was moving before his mind actually acknowledged the need to flee. The big vampire was bearing down on him and Lennie
was running, his sore muscles answering the call of duty.
This then would be either his finest
hour or his last. God knew he was going
to try, but if he was a betting man-
But it was better not to think of
such things, it was better to move. It
was better to take hold of the doorknob and thrust the door open, slamming it
behind him as he rushed into the camper.
Don’t stop! Prescott wouldn’t allow himself any time to
take pride in the seconds he had earned.
Pride meant death and he knew it.
Anything other than allegiance to
the battle would result in failure. Lennie grabbed the couch, the ugly piece of
shit couch that no one could ever like, and the adrenaline coursing through him
boosted his strength. He was able to
thrust the ravaged piece of furniture against the door, wedging it shut with a
single monstrous shove.
But Vlad wasn’t coming through the
door. The vampire dove through the
kitchen window, rising up amidst the shattered glass with a grace that would
have seemed more at home in a ballet as the camper rocked violently.
“Motherfucker,” Lennie said. The beast was no more than six feet away.
Vlad brushed himself off gleefully
and offered the teacher a big smile.
“Howdy, neighbor.”
For an instant, Lennie thought he
was going to faint. His legs went
rubbery and he wavered on his feet. A
single thought kept him alert: Toby.
It was going down and Toby was defenseless. Well, maybe not defenseless, as sharp as he
was, he probably had a better chance of getting through this than Lennie
did. But he was outmatched. They were all outmatched if they went at it
alone.
All these thoughts raced through his
mind in no more than a second and then it was just like before, he was moving
before he had decided to take action.
The vampire started laughing.
Lennie moved the couch just enough
to open the door and dashed outside, pulling the door shut carefully and
letting up at the last moment so that the locking mechanism didn’t catch as
Vlad lunged after him. The storm was
picking up and the moisture on the ground made it hard to keep his footing, but
he battled for traction.
Prescott waited a beat and kicked the door open on the
oncoming vampire, catching him high on the forehead with the aluminum
frame. Vlad stumbled backward, spitting
curses.
It was familiar, this motion without thought, this inspired
drive that came from being called upon in the heat of battle. His life was in jeopardy and part of him was
petrified, but part of him was thrilled to be a keg in the machine once more. There had been games when he felt like this, contests
where the heated competition had triggered moments where his primitive nature
took hold and his body and spirit merged, excluding his mind from the
proceedings.
It was as though Lennie’s intellect became an observer in
such situations.
A jagged bolt of lightning arced across the sky as the
vampire leapt outside with a fearsome roar. Lennie made a U-turn and used his momentum to
pitch himself toward the broken kitchen window.
He knew such a leap wouldn’t be nearly as easy for him as it was for the
beast, but he thought it was possible.
He was cut on his forearms and his belly as he went
through and he slammed down on the tile floor awkwardly, but by some miracle,
he came to his feet quickly, his momentum carrying him across the room. He crashed into the tiny kitchen table he
kept against the wall and sent the chairs clattering to the floor. Without hesitating, Lennie bounded into the
living room, shoving the couch forward, using it to barricade the door a second
time.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Vlad groaned. He ignored the window this time and patiently
made his way around the camper, looking for a back door but finding only a tiny
ventilation shaft.
Lennie went to the gas stove and turned all the eyes on
“HIGH,” pinching off the pilot lights with his thumb and index finger. He ripped open drawers until he found a
lighter and put it in his pocket. He
could smell the gas in the air and it made him think of the family cookouts he
had enjoyed as a youngster.
His mind had yet to catch up with his body.
Well, there you have it, the inside scoop on my baby, TPT&V. If you enjoyed this, I promise you that you'll have a great time with the book. I strongly believe that fiction should exist solely to entertain, and no one will be bored with this novel. Thanks for taking the time to read this blog, and I hope to see you at the trailer park!
Click either of the following links to buy the version you prefer:
6 x 9 Paperback - $8.99
Kindle Version - $1.99
Warning: Explicit Content
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