Author: Joe King An aimless, down on his luck man discovers a clandestine government agency tasked with combating supernatural evil, beneath the grounds of a mental health hospital where he works; the agency, the Frontline Unified Battalion of Arcane Resistance (F.U.B.A.R.). Getting recruited for their cause, he is accidentally afflicted with a curse, casting the sensible ego aspect of his personality into a subconscious prison, allowing his psychotic id to take over his body. Now this madman must lead a motley crew of supernatural agents, including a punk rock witch, a werewolf, a medium and the ghost of his best friend, and a female Japanese ninja, against a globe spanning, world devouring evil, whilst dealing with the monsters inside his head.
Published On: Dec 24 2014
Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Horror
Publisher: Self Published Purchase Links:
An aimless, down on his luck man discovers a clandestine government agency tasked with combating supernatural evil, beneath the grounds of a mental health hospital where he works; the agency, the Frontline Unified Battalion of Arcane Resistance (F.U.B.A.R.). Getting recruited for their cause, he is accidentally afflicted with a curse, casting the sensible ego aspect of his personality into a subconscious prison, allowing his psychotic id to take over his body. Now this madman must lead a motley crew of supernatural agents, including a punk rock witch, a werewolf, a medium and the ghost of his best friend, and a female Japanese ninja, against a globe spanning, world devouring evil, whilst dealing with the monsters inside his head.
Taking slow, measured steps down the hallway to the source of the sound he was careful not to screech the soles of his shoes on the linoleum. Dave found himself standing outside of a small counselling office. The eye level plaque read Dr James Carver. Not funny really, oh well. The voice was vaguely familiar to him as it teased his memory. Sounding almost cartoonish, it took him a few seconds to place it. Scooby-Doo! That was it, the voice sounded just like Scooby-Doo. Believing the impression to be the doctor or his guest joking around, Dave carefully tiptoed on the balls of his feet over to the door, tilting his ear to the wood. He could do with a laugh.
The smile on his face was genuine this time as it really was a good impersonation. But after a few minutes of eaves dropping on the comedic accent, he came to the conclusion that this was no joke. The speaker genuinely seemed to sound like that or it was some diehard commitment to the bit. His smile slowly diminished at first, as pangs of shame coursed through him at the knowledge that he was unknowingly mocking this poor person. Finding subtle, private amusement in the antics of recovering crack heads and schizophrenics is one thing, but the visualisation of himself hanging around outside a room to unknowingly mock somebody who must suffer similar treatment on a daily basis like they are a circus sideshow was cruel. His look of regret instantly dissolved into a curious mix of jolting shock and profound awkwardness as the door quickly swung open.
Standing before him, he was greeted by a bemused looking Dr Carver. The doc was about forty, of slight build and wore spectacles that looked like they were held together by willpower and positive thinking. His semblance reminded Dave of the actor Sam Rockwell. The doctor was observing Dave over the tops of his glasses, his brow furrowed and his chin pointing down to his chest as if he was unsure of what he was seeing. The silence stretched for a long moment and Dave was frozen like a deer in headlights, waiting to get an absolute ear full for snooping on personal matters concerning doctor-patient confidentiality. Uncertain on how to explain his action, Dave’s brain sputtered along as it attempted to cobble together whatever piss poor explanation he could for his actions. That’s when his eyes drifted to the trail of thick dark matted hair that led across the carpeted floor. Any attempt at an apology went on the backburner as his curious eyes wandered across the hair strewn carpet towards the bulky figure casually occupying the visitors’ chair. Dave’s blood turned to icy slush. It wasn’t a plucky Great Dane. Sitting there in torn jeans and a ripped up red and white plaid shirt was a werewolf.
Hello Joe and welcome! Feel free to add, remove, and/or change questions to suit your personality and book being promoted. Keep it fun!
Welcome Joe! Please start off by telling us a little about yourself.
I enjoy peeking out from behind the curtains of my living room, wondering when they will finally find me…I’m sorry I’ve said too much.
Is F.U.B.A.R. a single title, or part of a series?
It is the first part of a series. I am currently writing the second book now and can’t wait to get it out there!
What were your inspirations for the story?
Mainly just growing up with an unhealthy obsession with pop culture dramatics: superhero comics, monsters, martial arts, comedy, you know, the usual.
Please share your setting for F.U.B.A.R.. Have you ever lived or visited there? If so, what did you like most?
Have I ever lived at the Mad House or Black Harbour city? Can’t say that I have, though I often stare longingly at fictitious worlds but goddammit I just can’t transcend to them! Probably for the best though, not sure if I would fancy living in Black Harbour city, I hear there is a ton of monsters and I am not talking about priests and taxi drivers.
When did the writing bug first bite?
In my sleep several years ago, at first I hoped it was a radioactive spider and decided to test my agility…didn’t pan out.
Who are you favorite authors, book/series?
Some of Clive Barker and Dan Simmons’s work made a big impression on me. But in terms of series work:
John Connelly’s Charlie Parker series, F. Paul Wilson’s Repairman Jack series, Charlie Huston’s Joe Pitt series, Jonathan Maberry’s Pine Deep trilogy, Benny Imura quadrilogy.
If you could have an author roundtable discussion with any authors, who would you invite?
Dead ones only, I find that I sound much more intelligent and witty when nobody else can talk back. Is that weird?
Do you have any hobbies or special things you like to do in your spare time?
Stalking, killing, burying, repeat.
What’s the strangest thing you’ve heard or seen?
Customers at Subway, Jesus Christ!