Copyright 2010 – 2013
Read about the adventures of a bumbling sexual predator that uses the Internet trolling for conquests. Arlen J. Stevenson, a hack zombie author from Alabama, ends up on large social networking site hoping to be the most popular writer there. What happens to him is a fusion of dark humor and unexpected consequences.
Here’s an edited [from R-rated to PG-rated] excerpt from Chapter 5. Enter the mind of a narcissist, as seen from his point of view.
I was languishing in my popularity as the best author’s advocate on the entire Internet. I had to wade through a lot of email lately; many of it from horny ol’ gals way more outspoken than Helena. Some of them could string together their sentences while others were in the deluded state of thinking they were writers but hardly able to use words intelligently.
Up in North Carolina I had a minor author’s advocate just itching like a tick to see me real soon. She was north of fifty, but raring to go. She sweetly wrote to me, “Arlen I just have to have you now and if that’s too blunt for you…” No, Katelynn Brenner, that’s exactly my speed. Now. I want everything now, always have, always will. And if you’re horny and I’m horny, well hell, that’s just the best combination in the whole wide world and then some.
Katelynn knew I was married, but that wasn’t a problem. It’d be a done deal as soon as she scraped her pennies together from her cheating dog of a husband. Katelynn clearly wanted me so bad and be happy with just being my weekend buddy. Hell, name the time, date and place and we’d be ready for our Friday through Sunday buddy-fest.
Then there was the matter of Candice. She was a hack PP [Promises Publishers] writer who’d never amount to anything literarily, but she came from a decent family and had lots of money. Divorced, three teenagers, a chubby ol’ gal who lived in Georgia and was willing to meet with me any day or night of the week. I had to hint to a longterm relationship as she might’ve been horny but she was kinda on the needy side. Gals like that needed reassurance and that came in the form of the words: “longterm” “relationship” and the seal the deal phrase: “I can see us being together for a long, long time.” I also wasn’t above and beyond throwing in the word “love” here and there, but my strict rule was never before the fifth email exchange. I usually phrased it like this: “I am slowly but surely falling in love with you,” but that was reserved for the real hardcore “in need cases” as I referred to ’em. So far there had only been a few, and I closely monitored them for a potentially sticky situation.
I knew when that verbiage landed in their inboxes I was almost assured of being in their personal inboxes for real. Being the online personage I was, I never knew for sure if some ol’ gal would post pictures of me and the happily “Arlenized” ol’ gal up all over her site and the Reality Writes forum, the “private party page” which was a pretty wild place of writers exchanging some juicy tales. Meeting the women had to be done judiciously. Locals and near-locals were the best because the cost factor didn’t really enter the equation, as no motel rooms were needed. ‘Course they could turn into stalkers and I was god damned lucky that I hadn’t had to deal with that recently.
Love Me, Need Me: A Narcissist’s Tale is available in paperback and eBook formats.