The Charmed & Dangerous anthology is out today!

So of course I made a soundtrack for my story. Josh of the Damned Vs. The Bathroom of Doom Soundtrack from notmanos on 8tracks Radio.

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And another soundtrack!

I wrote the fic, so I may as well soundtrack it. Another Supernatural Soundtrack from notmanos on 8tracks Radio.

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New playlist!

It’s quite random. Let's Get Random from notmanos on 8tracks Radio.

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New anthology pre-order available! Josh of the Damned alert!

New anthology pre-order available! Josh of the Damned alert!

Yes! There is a new Josh of the Damned story in this brand new anthology. Check it out! There are many great people involved.

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Flash Fic Challenge – The End’s Girlfriend

  Latest challenge here. This one is really short, but I had to do something with this title. The End’s Girlfriend The hardest part about the end of the world? Explaining to my friends that my girlfriend had to do it. It wasn’t her fault, was it? The angel Gabriel turned out to be Gabrielle, which wasn’t a shock considering how sexist the Bible was. It got a lot of other stuff wrong too, but that’s not the point. I was kind of surprised, being an atheist, that my cool chick girlfriend with the short green hair and combat boots was also the Angel of the Apocalypse. Once I got over the disbelief factor, and ascertained that she was not crazy, it was totally cool. Okay, not the explaining to friends thing. That sucked. Oh, and the whole world ending...

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They judge, and they judge …

They judge, and they judge …

Because I haven’t posted anything for a while, I thought I’d post a picture of all the figurines that stand at the top of my monitor as I write . They judge me harshly, in all their plastic wisdom. And yes, I realize only one is human, and he’s technically a mutant. But I can take or leave non-mutant humans, I suppose.

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Supernatural: The End, Part 11 (The Actual End)

  11 – Back In Black Sam looked out at the pond, and tried to remember when he had ever seen this place. When he was five maybe? He was standing on a back porch that looked kind of rickety, but you couldn’t argue with the view. A placid blue-gray oval of water, a couple of ducks bobbing on the surface, with scattered clots of willows and aspens arranged around the perimeter. This was some hunter’s home, wasn’t it? A friend of their dad’s. Sam couldn’t recall any of the finer details, just this peaceful view, which was so unlike the motels and truck stops and other random places that made up his scattered childhood. “Hey Sammy,” Dean said. He turned to find Dean standing there, but he knew somehow this was Dean and yet not Dean. What was...

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