Hello, everyone! And welcome to all the new group members. We are happy to have you!
Today is release day for The Twelve Coffins of Dr. Coffin! I wrote this to help celebrate the 12th anniversary of JMS Books. it’s about making a terrible movie on a tiny budget, while trying not to fall for the same man you made the mistake of falling for once before.
I really do enjoy second chance romances.
Director and film snob Leo Wayland has been hired to head the new horror unit of Maiden studios and given an impossible task. Three weeks to film, a tiny budget, and a scandal-laden leading man in Everett Reid. A leading man that has not only been linked to nearly every leading lady he’s worked with, but also a man Leo fell for at twenty-one while working for another studio.
Heading into writing this story, I hadn’t really considered the fact that I was writing a period story. But, taking place in 1959, it did require a good deal of research about film and language, and of the culture of Hollywood at the time. Even being a old Hollywood buff, I learned a lot beyond what was required for the story.
The Twelve Coffins of Dr. Coffin steals a little from the life of Val Lewton, a little from Victor Buono, Ed Wood and a whole lot of others.
You can check out a blurb and excerpt below.
And don’t forget to check out the update on a future Findley Black story at the bottom of his newsletter!
The Twelve Coffins of Dr. Coffin
Blurb
When Leo Wayland accepts a job as head of the new horror unit at Maiden Studios, he knows what is expected. Make cheap movies that earn their money back fast. It doesn't matter that he dislikes horror. He just needs to escape his assistant director's position at a rival studio.
But he didn't expect to be assigned a terrible title and a leading man, all before he even had a script, or that his leading man would be Everett Reid, the actor who rejected a very young Leo’s advances, only to disappear from movies altogether a few years later in a cloud of scandal.
Everett Reid will do anything for a chance to get back the career he lost and away from teaching at a theater camp for children. And if it means working with Leo Wayland again, he can do that too. Especially now that Leo is all grown up and not so untouchable.
With only three weeks, a flamboyant stage actor, twelve scantily clad women, and a sound stage full of coffins may not seem like the makings of something great. But really, that all depends on what you are hoping for.
M/M 1950s Hollywood/ 13143 words
Buy Links: JMS Book • Amazon • Universal Buy Link
Excerpt
Everett let himself into the house and tossed the mail on the entry table already cluttered with bills. They’d been piling up the last few weeks since the money had finally run out.
Besides his ‘55 Corvette, the small bungalow nestled at the base of the hills was all that was left of nearly twenty years of work. It was enough to crush him if he let it.
He stared at the decanter left on the table from the night before when he and Taylor had toasted his contract with Maiden. But his brother had always been more of a drinker than he had. He didn’t want a drink. He wanted to fall into bed for a night of dreamless sleep.
He flipped the switch to the back patio light and pressed his head against the glass, watching the first drops of rain disturb the mirror-like surface of the pool.
It didn’t rain much in LA, but whenever it did, it reminded him of the years growing up down south with his mother and Taylor.
He unlatched the door, slid it open, and kicked out of his loafers as he pulled his shirt over his head. By the time he stood at the edge of the pool, he’d stripped completely, and dove in without hesitation.
It had yet to cool down much from the exceedingly hot day, but as Everett swam laps, the rain pelted him, hard and cold.
He swam back and forth, gliding almost soundlessly through the water, letting go of the day and clearing his mind. He ignored the tug at his thoughts of Leo Wayland and the memories they tried to conjure up. Ignored the chirp of crickets, and the distant hint of laughter from the houses on either side of his. He ignored everything until streaks of lightning across the sky forced him to drag himself out of the water again and go searching for a towel.
He left a trail of wet footprints back into the house, like the ghost of a murdered fisherman, through the living room and finally into his bedroom and the attached bath, where he grabbed one the of the white fluffy towels Steven had picked out when they had first moved in together. Before Steven had broken up with him the first time, the second time, and the third. Before Steven had come back that last time, needing a friend and someone to care for him as he worked through whatever he had to work through.
Everett had never understood what that was. Not at the time, and no better now, all these years later. It was enough to know that Steven had been unhappy, that Everett couldn’t make him happy, no matter how hard he had tried, continued to try, even when all he wanted was to move on and find his own happiness.
Once he was dry, he pulled on a pair of briefs and studied his reflection in the mirror. There’d be no more wrangling children at theater camp, or being flirted with by their mothers. Not this summer anyway. This summer he’d be back in front of the camera, doing what he loved.
Everett Reid had done his penance and now he was going to grab some happiness for himself.
I’m sure it’s bad form to share too early, but as I so often struggle to find time to write and let everyone know what’s going on, I thought I would drop this in now.
I didn’t anticipate I’d write another Findley Black story. But a year later and he and Owen, and the kids of Printer’s Devil were on my mind again. The goal with my publisher was to have this out at the end of September—and that still could happen—but it might end up being pushed back to October instead. But still, I thought you might want a peek!
Findley Black and the Reaper of Shivelly Park
Findley Black knows a little something about serial killers. What he doesn’t know is why someone would want to reenact a series of murders that took place more than ninety years ago. One he’s studied a great deal about as part of his annual Halloween ghosts tours. Unless, of course, it’s not a copycat at all, and the Reaper of Shivelly Park is back for vengeance.
Owen Key never considered himself much for domesticity, but the last two years with his boyfriend Findley have him reevaluating his priorities. His family at The Printer’s Devil is growing, he has a new book on the way, and he wants nothing more than to make Findley an honest man. And what better time to pop the question than on Halloween, the second anniversary of their sort of first date?
But the night has other plans, and Findley and Owen will find themselves with something more pressing than a romantic evening. The ghost of the Shivelly Park Reaper is on the loose. But when no one believes them, they have no choice but to take matters into their own hands. Because, well, The Reaper might just get away with it if not for Findley, Owen and the kids of Printer’s Devil. And Bella. You can’t forget the cat.
Yes, I’ve finally written Scooby-Doo, and I am overjoyed! #lifegoals
