Meeting Mel Gibson ~ Excerpt from “Diary of a Hollywood Nobody”

Copyright 2011-2024 by Lisa Maliga

Thursday, May 18

I was sentenced to eight hours in the legal department at Warner Bros. The lawyer’s secretary was pregnant and all she did was sit behind her desk and talk on the phone. The lawyer, Mr. Manic, was civil to me at first. He sauntered in around 10:30 and disappeared into his office on the other side of the suite. Preggers sat in the large reception area and I was squeezed into a file room with a desk on the other side of the secretary’s office. The water cooler was beside the desk and he came over to fill up a mug and hand me his car keys! Mr. Manic told me to go down to his car, a Jaguar convertible, and retrieve his briefcase.

I loped downstairs, glad to get out into the sunny day and check out his wheels. It was a white Jag. with a matching leather interior and it sure smelled clean and new when I opened the door. Then I saw the briefcase. It wasn’t the standard issue case made of imported leather; it was quadruple sized and HEAVY! As I lugged it out of the car, I almost dropped the damn thing.  That it contained books was evident–but all 26 volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica? 

The briefcase never left the ground. Having to go upstairs in the elevatorless Admin. building meant that the case rested on each step. Mr. Manic was having me, someone who was probably half his weight, play pack mule? Why? Did he hate temps?

The endearing Mr. Manic also had his car washed for him. A man stopped by and asked Preggers for the car keys so the Jag. could be washed and the gas tank filled. I’d happened to be in the reception area doing some file organizing so I witnessed the man pocketing the keys. I wanted to tell him to make sure he left the top down and hit every phone pole on the way back!

Preggers had me “run” to the mailroom to drop off some important letters. Just as I was rounding a corner, I barely avoided slamming into an equally surprised Mel Gibson! Those famous blue eyes were huge; we were just inches from a collision!

Book link: Diary of a Hollywood Nobody

Visually-Enhanced Book Excerpt

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Arlen’s Best Birthday Excerpt from “The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story”

Copyright 2011-2024 by Lisa Maliga

I loved my birthday no matter how old I got. Our MySpace site was blessed with people who left a lot of comments wishing me a happy birthday and I just never got tired of seeing it all! I did a special birthday poem and got more blog comments that way. God, I was having fun.

On top of that, I was in love with an angel from Tupelo, Mississippi named FlowerChild. She was a divorcee who was only thirty-five and was the brightest woman I’d had the privilege to meet online thus far. She wasn’t a writer but she wrote like one, and she worked in the deli department of a supermarket where she was in charge of making those wonderful party platters.

That FlowerChild was born only ten miles from the King [of rock n roll] made me love her even more. Ironically, she wasn’t a huge Elvis fan at all; something I just happened to overlook and forgive, as she was a fan of my books and had purchased all three copies in hardcover. FlowerChild loved reading and had excelled in it back in high school. She was going to attend Mississippi State, but she got pregnant and married, yes folks, in that order, and college had to wait.

Something about her was so refreshingly different and wonderful that I decided to give up flirting forever. I loved the hell out of her. I thought about her most all the time, and then some, to the point that she’s sort of like a billboard in my brain.

If things were going well for me, that afternoon they hit a peak. I heard back from that publisher I’d been in touch with for the past few months about my short story. Seems like they liked it so much that it would be put into a sexy horror anthology, which was going to be released by year’s end! Payment was okay but potential exposure was great. Not only that, I would finally have a legitimate new writing credit! I was one very happy man.

Book link: https://www.lisamaliga.com/book-the-narcissist-chronicles-the-whole-story

Video Excerpt

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Private Dancer’s Warning ~ Book Excerpt from “The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story”

By Lisa Maliga

Copyright 2011-2024

This excerpt features an email exchange from Private Dancer, one of Arlen Stevenson’s many online MySpace friends, to another woman who is in love with the zombie author. Only Arlen’s manager intercepts the missive. It serves as a strong warning about Arlen’s narcissistic ways.

Note: It’s been edited for length and the typos and misspellings are intentional to show the rawness of the exchange.

I opened up the email from Private Dancer.

I know you and Arlen have some kind of friendship going here. I know you flirt like hell that there is no harm either, well what you think is no harm. But I don’t know how far it’s gone. I am hoping I am wrong, and you didn’t go there to see him . please tell me you ddin’t and if you did, hun, all I have to say, GOD HELP YOU.

I am going to write some things I bet your bottom dollar he’s said to you. And he not only has told you, he has told all other women that he is woooing, sleeping with, or setting up to sleep with.

* Darlin, don’t listen to tehm, they don’t know what they are sayin.

* You know I love you & only you.

* Darlin I have to make those comments on the profile cause my manager tells me to cause it sells books.

* You are the most important thing to me and no one else.

* If you cant come to me, I will come to you.

* Once I [redacted] and we have sex, you know you are all mine, don’t you?

* If you come out here darlin, we will go to the lake house. Then you can meet my buddies and you can become a member of our private club.

* Once you are here darlin, I want to build you a log cabin for us to live in, and never leave. And you can manage and help me with the myspace and read my emails and comments, then you can help me weed out the ones you don’t want.

* (For those who are married) Darlin, don’t worry that you are married, I am too. She does her thing and I do mine. Your husband will never find out. We can meet some where he will never know… just you and me and have all the sex we want.

*  You are the best in the world, you are the only one I love, you’re the only one I want to be with, none of the other women know about us, so don’t tell them. Be careful with your comments, or they might get wind of us.

* He is going to tell you don’t listen to me..but I can get in touch with all the women who are already in touch with me that he did the same with. The more you keep flirting dirty with him, the more serious he will get about meeting you, and will push youinto it or coherse you to making your mind up to doing it.

* He can’t understand why all the women have this thing for him. He is just a simple Southern smalltown boy. He isn’t a saint, but he never expected this to happen. He knows how bad he can be, but that would make all the other women jealous.

Arlen has ruined some marriages but he blamed the women. He didn’t tell them to come there, or have sex with him. He says this stuff to all the women, not just you. He has all the women believeing they are the only one, right down to sex and cooking and everything else…

I am just trying to let you know what he really is like. And that he doesn’t care no more about you and your feeling than any other woman. He just loves having them eating out of his hand and thinking he is their man, their god, their sex machine…..

If you want to keep it up…fine I cant stop you. But you need to know the truth… remember if he isn’t doing things or saying things to you, he is to other women, and he will hurt them emotionally and blame them for it…

I was glad that Arlen pointed it out, and that I was quick enough to save it. I filed it, not fully contemplating what I had just read. And it was still going on.

An author of zombie fiction, Arlen J. Stevenson uses his writing ability to entice his online victims. He flirts with them via email or instant messages. But what happens when he meets his online match?

Book link: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story by Lisa Maliga

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Out of the Blue: A Novel ~ Video Excerpt

Copyright 2014-2024 by Lisa Maliga

The month of August was sweltering. Sylvia Gardner was unaware of how the heat would affect her on a Thursday afternoon during the second week of over 95-degree temperatures. Images of Jamaica held far less appeal than they did during the winter months. The thought of visiting Bob Marley’s country faded.

It was her day off from her cashiering job at Jenson’s Drugstore. She was taking advantage of the air-conditioned climate. The movie was Splendor in the Grass starring Warren Beatty and Natalie Wood. The Zenith TV stood in the corner of the living room on a faux wood grain wheeled cart. Beneath it was stored the new TV Guide, along with the Richport News entertainment section, and the monthly PBS magazine. 

She switched on the TV, knowing the movie would be on by the time she returned from the kitchen. She could enjoy the movie, sip from a bottle of ice cold 7 Up from the freezer, and maybe indulge in a few handfuls of potato chips. Oh yeah, and that container of French onion dip from Kroger was still on the second shelf of the fridge.

Odd, she thought. It hadn’t done that in a while. As she was about to switch back, the picture sharpened even more and she was attracted to the verdant landscape. Something about the bucolic setting captivated Sylvia.

 And that was how it all began.

book link: Out of the Blue: A Novel

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Zombie Excerpt from “The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story”

By Lisa Maliga, copyright 2011-2024

I posted my short story Zombies At The Kings Country Buffet. The comments came pouring in and I was winning more subscribers and more fans. Some of those ol’ gals were bringing in other ol’ gals. I was sent pictures of some of ‘em and lots of private email addresses and phone numbers. To say my calendar was getting kinda full was a huge understatement. God, I loved MySpace!

A few days later I found time to chat with [my manager] Helena on the IM but I had to remain hidden or else I would’ve been inundated with gals wanting to chat. We discussed the overwhelming success of my short story that had been on my web site for years, but over here it had garnered over 60 comments. Danielle in Odessa, Texas wrote about my witty horror tale, saying she was laughing and crying at the same time and she would stay far away from buffets in the future. BlueEyedBlonde wrote, in part: “you have quite a sense of humor about you (Thank GOD!!!) I enjoy your writings…”

Gillian in North Carolina: “I don’t care bout no dam zombies but what you tell me is that u got some balls great big size and I love you writeing”

Frankinzombie: “Because Im a loser baby,now why dont you kill me, that is If I turn into a zombie. Its all fantasy,we know about reality,work,hot girlfriend who likes expensive things,and talks to much while your watching a football game, giving your bud some $ to score some bud, and dosnt show up till the next day,wop-ass time,i know you been pinching my bag mo-fo,escape from reality,til zombies really happens,its comming soon”

Robbi Zombie: “Arlen, you are 1 of the finest zombie writers in your genre. Not only do you maintain a level of tension, but it’s interlaced with lots of humor. I wish I could give you 10 kudos!”

Then it happened. Some firefighter in a small town of South Hampton, Alabama wrote about wanting a speaker at his Christmas party—and the man even gave an amount. That would be enough to buy a new computer. Things were lookin’ up!

An author of zombie fiction, Arlen J. Stevenson uses his writing ability to entice his online victims. He flirts with them via email or instant messages. But what happens when he meets his online match?

Link: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story by Lisa Maliga

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“September Harvest” NEW Cover, Excerpt & Book Trailer

By Lisa Maliga, copyright 2023

March 2023

Online comment: If only someone would have warned these gullible people about what was going on BEFORE they took the bioweapon. I warned people. Did you?

My reply: I didn’t realize how bad it was until June 2021. I spent all summer writing a novella about what I saw going on. Sadly, I don’t have a billion-dollar budget to bamboozle people with endless publicity. But I did try…

After answering that question, I decided to put together a book trailer to promote my book. And I changed the cover from one of the watercolor illustration of the mall’s interior to a photo of a dead mall’s exterior. Finally, I rewrote the book’s description. 

New Book Description:

It’s 1979 and Laurie Caswell is working as a bookstore clerk at the Northbrook Mall. That Saturday evening, she sees a movie with her boyfriend, Dennis Nolan. Instead of dining at a restaurant, the teenage couple goes to her parents’ suburban house for some adult beverages. He leaves, and in the early hours of the morning, she has a horrifying nightmare.

A nightmare of a future where the mall resembles a prison. It’s populated with overweight, black-clad people wearing face masks, and lining up outside the former Sears department store for mandatory Convict-21 injections.

Will the nightmare come true, or will the old book she discovers the next day at a yard sale help change the course of humanity forever?

Excerpt:

“The signs on the door demanded that recipients of the Convict-21 vaccine must wear masks, be over the age of twelve and I stopped reading the sign after that. The cosmetics section of the once-thriving department store was minus its display cases. The Avon and Revlon makeup kits were gone. Vibrant young salespeople offering sprays of perfume were absent. No floral fragrances lingered in the air other than generous gusts of alcohol-based sanitizer from spray bottles being squirted by uniformed medical workers. It reminded me of some sort of pest-control team—and it appeared like we were the pests.”

Video

Book Links:

Amazon: SEPTEMBER HARVEST

Apple: SEPTEMBER HARVEST

B&N NOOK: SEPTEMBER HARVEST

Kobo: SEPTEMBER HARVEST

Smashwords: SEPTEMBER HARVEST

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I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist ~ New Cover & Excerpt

By Lisa Maliga, copyright 2016

Before I became a fan of THE WALKING DEAD, I wrote about a character named Arlen J. Stevenson who was the author of zombie fiction. I chose that genre because it seemed a little different—edgier—than thrillers or science fiction.

Originally, this manuscript got some interest from an editor at a small literary press. “It sounds serious and worthy, and I appreciated the description and know exactly what you’re talking about from hard experience. I do wish you luck with it though because…it has to be said!”

When I first uploaded I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist, along with my companion title, Love Me, Need Me: A Narcissist’s Tale, I designed my own cover. I’ve since stopped doing this as I prefer not fussing around with fonts. I finally got around to having the cover redesigned after combing through some stock photos and finding one of a man who resembled the Arlen I’d imagined. Art and reality merged.

Since publishing this book, I’ve learned a lot about formatting. While awaiting the cover to be designed, I had a look at the sample, noting some the spacing issues. I went through line by line and fixed the problems. By doing this, I reread the story and was struck by the online psychological game playing that abounded within the book. 

This is unlike any other book I’ve written. It took years of research before I wrote my first draft. I did encounter several versions of Arlen online and in real life. At the time, it was very difficult to be around those types of uncaring and self-centered people. But what I learned filled more than one book. 

EXCERPT:

Here’s Arlen’s email to LeeAnn [Southern Pecan is her MySpace name] after “meeting” her on September 28.

Date: September 30

LeeAnn,

You’re wise, insightful, and loving. On top of that, you radiate both a wonderful sexuality combined with a heaping dose of loyalty. All mixed together, it’s potent.

Why do I want you with all these other people around? Frankly, there’s not even a choice involved, you are simply on a different level.

I’ll make this short and sweet. I want to get to know you more, the sooner the better. If all you want is an internet friendship, fine, just tell me. But if you want the chance for more, tell me that, because that’s exactly what I want. The reason you and I both are doing this is because we both sense we’ve gotten ahold of what potentially could be the real thing for us both.

Let me know, darlin,
AJS

P.S. My marriage is not what it should be, dear, and has been for awhile. This doesn’t flatter me in the least, but even if it wasn’t, I don’t know that I could resist you.

BOOK DESCRIPTION:

The author of three zombie books uses his literary accomplishments to entice his online victims. Arlen J. Stevenson flirts heavily with several women via raw and steamy emails in order to lure them to his lake house. His MySpace site has amassed thousands of potential victims. “I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist” shows Arlen’s arc of seduction with eighteen different women. You’ll meet poetic Southern Pecan, desperate Betsy, flirty Debra, and lonely Ginger.

The love and long-term relationships he proposes to the women lasts long enough to satisfy his ego and sexual cravings.

This unique volume can be read as either a sequel or a prequel to “Love Me Need Me: A Narcissist’s Tale.”

WARNING! “I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist” may be offensive to those who dislike graphic language and sexual content.

Amazon: I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist
B&N NOOK: I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist
iTunes: I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist
Kobo: I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist
Scribd: I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist
Smashwords: I WANT YOU: Seduction Emails from a Narcissist

 

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Out of the Blue: A Novel ~ Meet Sylvia’s Mother

By Lisa Maliga

Copyright 2014-2015

It all began in the summer of 1979 …

Sylvia Gardner is a naïve library clerk who lives with her dysfunctional mother in Richport, Illinois. Vivian tells her daughter not to trust men because they only want to use her. After being dumped by her first boyfriend, Sylvia falls in love with an English actor after watching him on a PBS drama. Researching Alexander Thorpe’s life and career for two years, she saves her money so she can visit him in his Cotswolds village. She stays at the Windrush Arms Hotel, soon discovering they share a secret connection.

Complications ensue when Harry Livingstone, the hotel’s drunken proprietor, takes a fancy to the young American. As in her dreams, Sylvia and Alexander get together – but with unexpected results.

In this flashback scene we learn more about Sylvia’s mother.

Her mother would’ve disliked Alexander, even though he was a well-known actor. She would have referred to him as a dissipated old lecher for he was a man. An older man. And of course since he was a man, he wanted to get his rocks off. Vivian feared her daughter would wind up as unhappy as she had been once she got married.

After all, her mother had married an older man—Fred Gardner was almost a dozen years older than Vivian. But after the divorce and the move into the apartment complex, Sylvia found a small beige photo album when moving boxes in the garage. She sat down on a lawn chair and opened it up. A smiling Vivian looked at the camera. It was taken from the waist up and she recognized the canary yellow polyester minidress that her mother had bought back in 1969. It was always worn with white vinyl go go boots. Her dark hair was center parted and hung in loose curls just past her narrow shoulders. Her mom looked a lot younger in that picture. She turned the page and saw a bearded man standing next to Vivian. His long hair was thick and curly. A folded red bandana was wrapped around his head. Who was that man?

If you’d like to read more, OUT OF THE BLUE: A NOVEL is available at the following online bookstores:

Paperback: Out of the Blue: A Novel
Paperback UK: Out of the Blue: A Novel

Amazon Kindle: Out of the Blue: A Novel
Amazon Kindle UK: Out of the Blue: A Novel
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1992 Los Angeles Riots Excerpt from ‘Diary of a Hollywood Nobody’

By Lisa Maliga, copyright 2015

This is an edited excerpt from my novel, Diary of a Hollywood Nobody.

Wednesday, April 29, 1992

On Monday, I began a new assignment in the basement of the Union Pacific Bank. There were several departments in the sprawling basement and I got lucky as the lawyer I worked for took every Wednesday afternoon off in order to perfect his golf game at the Wilshire Country Club.

George, the guy in charge of the mailroom, came over to the desk where I sat. My work consisted of alphabetizing loan applications for another secretary. I noticed his serious expression as he told me that the four cops who’d beaten Rodney King had been acquitted out in Simi Valley. The look on his broad Samoan face told me that he didn’t agree with the decision. Neither did I. “People are outside the court house yelling guilty, guilty.” He shook his head. “They’re saying it could get ugly…”

Quitting time was five o’clock and I drove home the usual way and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Until I got home and turned on the TV. I still didn’t have cable but that didn’t matter as every channel was broadcasting the events. Fires were set, looters invaded stores, and my adopted city was in a state of chaos. The only noise I heard was that of sirens screaming down Melrose and helicopters overhead.

Thursday, April 30

Early that morning I called Alltemps and asked if I should go in to work. The answer was yes. I guess being located in the middle of Beverly Hills changed their perspective.

I took Sunset to downtown and parked at the usual lot east of the business district on 6th and Bixel. There weren’t many cars. In the distance, I saw plumes of smoke. L.A. was on fire and I had to report to work in the basement of a bank.

The bank office was abuzz with static-filled radios. Iesha, a South Central resident, spoke of a night of terror. Luckily, her house remained intact and her kids were unharmed. Her husband was out of town so she and her three grade-school aged children endured a night of fires and looting and helicopters buzzing overhead. The nearby mini-mall was looted and burned. No more convenience store, video shop, or Chinese takeout remained.

Sybil was another black woman who had a firecracker of a night. She resided in Koreatown, a hard-hit area near 8th and Vermont. Her apartment was unscathed, but she received a free fire show. Windows broke. Gunshots rang out.

Every so often, someone would remember the employees below street level and announce another mishap. Looting on 6th Street. Fires burned everywhere. No work was done.

By noon, we were dismissed due to the ‘civil disturbance.’ Nerves were wrought. Various forms of panic seized the employees. George was accompanying Rosalinda to her bus stop near Skid Row.

I was driven to the outdoor lot across the Harbor Freeway. Two other cars remained in the $3 per day lot. Behind me, the smoke was billowing higher and darker. I locked my car doors. I was leaving work at lunchtime and wasn’t pretending I was sick; there was a legitimate excuse for going home early.

It started gradually. I noticed more pedestrians on the sidewalks than usual. Teens. Little kids. Mothers.  They headed westwards, about a half mile from Vermont Avenue. People trotting, some running. Uphill, at the intersection of Beverly and Vermont, traffic stopped at a green light.

Read more about the riots as well as the excesses of the 1990’s as a nobody tries to become a somebody in Hollywood. This unique diary is available here:
Amazon link: Diary of a Hollywood Nobody

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Memories of Bakery Bleu

By Lisa Maliga, copyright 2015

Consolidating my archived emails, I came across some that were labeled Bakery Bleu. Ah yes, the first bakery I ever worked at, the one described in my novel, Notes from Nadir. The one where I met Gordon, the owner and baker. A quick Google search revealed that things had changed since that interview back on a beautiful warm and sunny April day. No longer was the bakery there—it had vanished. 

Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 19 ~ The Boss of Bakery Bleu

Upon entering the bakery, I noticed a bin of unwrapped baguettes on the counter. I saw a variety of rolls and sweet rolls on the shelves, and behind the man who stood at the counter, were rows of different kinds of breads.

I met Gordon, a tall auburn haired man bordering on pudginess. He wore a navy polo shirt with the golden-brown Bakery Bleu logo [a pair of crossed breadsticks] above one of his manboobs. He shook my hand and sat down across from me so he could see both me and all the baked goodies to the north.

“Do tell me about yourself,” he said in a hearty voice. His accent wasn’t local, that’s for sure. He sounded English. Of course, I didn’t think he wanted to know about my personal history but about how valuable I’d be as a minimum wage slave, I mean, employee. I smiled, and for once, I wasn’t unhappy about sitting across from the man even though he could only offer a part time job. I pulled out a pale blue resume and handed it to him. He nodded and looked at it. I knew he was probably surprised when he saw the word Dreamweaver on the bottom where I listed a few web related things.

“You had your own business,” he studied that piece of paper atop the black table. “You lived in Los Angeles…what’re you doing here?”

Much as I want to, I couldn’t avoid that question. The man was scrutinizing me now. I looked at his dark eyes, then down at the table. “Cheap rent. I live with my mom.”

He had a genuine, hearty laugh. It sounded so wonderful after not hearing much of it that year. And I laughed out loud myself. It was true, that cliché about laughter being healthy.

“I did too when I first moved here from London.”

“Not London, Kentucky?”

He smiled broadly and I was feeling more comfortable with this man I had just met. “England.” He replied, though I knew the answer and he knew I knew that he was from across the pond.

“The people are so boring here,” I said. Oops, not the kind of thing to say in a job interview, especially as I was applying for a job where I’d be waiting on those boring people. But this didn’t really feel like one. “I didn’t say that,” I said.

He leaned forward a bit, covered his ears and replied, “I didn’t hear that!”

God, we were like teenagers on a first date.

He began speaking of the duties. The first date was over; it was a real job interview. He went over them: waiting on customers, taking calls, helping out with orders, mopping up… “It’s not General Motors,” he said. “We’ve all got to pull together.”

Like team spirit? I thought, but left that unsaid.

He complained about how slow business was. And the customers’ taste in bread. “The baguettes are too hard!” he mocked, using a higher pitched voice. He shook his head and in his sexily deep voice said, “I lived in France for eight years. A baguette is CRISP. Here they think it’s burned. I offered to sell them dough if they want soft baguettes.”

I chuckled at that image.

“Look, I only have one important question for you…” he paused with the drama of a stage actor.

Hmm, this was getting interesting. 

To read more, click NOTES FROM NADIR.

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